Mercenary's Woman (19 page)

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MERCENARY'S WOMAN

DIANA PALMER

143

narrowed. He had watched his mother and
siblings die at
the hands of a guerrilla leader at the age of four. His father had been
a poor laborer who could barely earn enough to
provide one meal a day for the two of
them, so his child
hood had been spent scavaging for food like an animal,
hiding in the shadows
to avoid being tortured by the in
vaders. His father had not been as fortunate,
but the two
of them had managed to work their way to the States, to
Victoria, Texas, when
be was ten. He watched his father
scrape and bow as a janitor and hated the
sight. He had vowed that when he was a man, he would never know
poverty again,
regardless of what it cost him. And despite
his father's anguish, he had embarked very quickly on a path to
easy money.

He looked down at
the white carpet, a dream of his from
youth, and at the wealth with which he
surrounded himself.
He dealt in drugs and death. He was wealthy and im
mensely powerful. A word from him could
topple heads
of state. But it was an empty,
cold, bitter existence. He had lived at first only for vengeance, for the
ability and
the means to avenge his
mother and his baby brother and
sister.
That accomplished, he wanted wealth and power.
One step led to another, until he was in over his head, first
as a murderer, then as a thief, and finally, as a
drug lord.
He was ruthless and he
knew that one day his sins would
catch
up with him, but first he was going to know who
had sold him out to the authorities two years before. What
irony that vengeance had led him to power, and now
it
was vengeance that had almost brought him down. He
cursed the woman Jessica for refusing to give him
the
name. He had only discovered her
part in his arrest six months before. She would pay now. He would have the
name
of his betrayer, whatever the cost!

He stared down at the rocks and winced as he saw once

again, in his memory, the floating
white dress and the
equally white face and open, dead eyes of the woman he'd
wanted even more
than the name of the person who had
betrayed him. Isabella, he thought with
anguish. He had never loved, not until Isabella came into his home as a
housekeeper, the sister of one of his
lieutenants' friends. She had talked to him, admired him, teased him as if he
were a boy. She had made herself so necessary to
him that
he told her things that he
told no one else. She had made him want to be clean, to give up his decadent
life, to have
a family, a home. But when he had approached her ar
dently, she had suddenly wanted no part of him. In
a fit
of rage when she pushed him
away at a party on his yacht,
he hit her. She went over the rails and
into the ocean, vanishing abruptly under the keel of the boat.

He had immediately
regretted the act, but it was too late.
His men had searched for her in the water
until daybreak
before he let them give up the search, only to find her
washed up on the
beach, dead, when he arrived back at
his mansion. Her death had cheapened him,
cheapened his
life. He was
deeply sorry that his temper had pushed him
to
such an act, that he cost himself the most precious thing in his life. He had
killed her. He was damned, he thought.
Damned eternally. And probably he
deserved to be.

Since that night, two
years ago, just before his arrest in
the United States for narcotic trafficking,
he had no other
thought than to find the man who had betrayed him. Noth
ing made him happy since her loss, not
even the pretty
young woman who sang at a
club in Cancun just recently. He had taken a fancy to her because she reminded
him of
Isabella. He had ordered his
henchmen to bring her to him
one
night after her performance. He had enjoyed her, but
her violent revulsion had angered him and she,
too, had
felt his wrath. She had taken her own life, jumped from a

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MERCENARY'S WOMAN

DIANA PALMER

145

high balcony rather than submit to him a second time. Her
death had wounded
him, but not as deeply as the loss of
Isabella. Nothing, he was certain, would ever
give him
such
anguish and remorse again. He thought of the woman
Jessica and her son,
of the fear she would experience when
he had her child. Then, he thought angrily,
she would give
him the name
of her informant. She would have to. And,
at
last, he would have his vengeance for the betrayal that
had sent him to
an American prison.

Eb hadn't come near
the house all day. After Stevie was
tucked up in bed, Jessica and Sally sat
together in the
dimly lit living room and- watched the clock strike mid
night.

"It's time," Sally said huskily, stiff with nerves.

Jessica only nodded. Like Sally, her frame
was rigid.
She had made her decision, the
only decision possible. Now they were all going to pay the consequences for it.

Even as the thought
crawled through her mind, she
heard
the sudden whir of a helicopter closing in.

"Get down!"
Jessica called to Sally, sliding onto the
big throw rug full-length. She felt Sally
beside her as the
helicopter came even closer and a flash, followed by an
explosion, shook the
roof.

Smoke came down the
chimney, filling the room. Out
side, the whir of the helicopter was accompanied by
small arms fire and the sounds of bullets hitting something hard. Then that
sound was abruptly interrupted by a sudden
whooshing sound. Right on the heels of that
came a violent
explosion that lit up the whole sky and then the unmistak
able sound of falling debris.

"There went the
chopper," Jessica said huskily. "Sally,
are you all
right?"

"Yes. We have to get out," she
said, coughing. "The
smoke is going to
choke us!"

She helped Jessica to
her feet and started her down the hall to the front door while she went to grab
Stevie up out
of his bed and
rush down the same hall with him in her arms. It was like a nightmare, but she
didn't have time to
count the cost or worry
about the outcome. She was doing
what
was necessary to save them, in the quickest possible time. She could only pray
that they wouldn't run out right
into
the arms of Lopez's men.

She caught up with
Jess, who was feeling her way along
the wall. Taking her by the arm, with Stevie
close, she
propelled them to the front door, unlocked it, and rushed
out onto the porch.

Eb was running toward them, but an Eb
that Sally didn't recognize at first. He was dressed completely in black with a
face mask on, carrying a small automatic weapon. Other
men, similarly
dressed, were already going around the
back of the house.

"Come with
me," Eb called, herding them into the for
est and into a four-wheel-drive vehicle. "Lock the
doors
and stay put until we check out the
house," he said.

He was gone even as
the words died on the air. Stevie
huddled close to his mother while Sally
watched Eb's
stealthy but
rapid approach toward the house, her heart racing madly. Even though the attack
had been expected,
it was frightening.

A tap on the window next to Jessica on the passenger
side made them all jump. Dallas pulled off his
face mask,
smiling as he replaced a
walkie-talkie in his belt. "Open
the
window," he said.

Sally fumbled with
the key in the ignition and powered
the passenger side window down.

"We got the chopper," he said. "But it's only a smoke

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MERCENARY'S WOMAN

bomb in the house, irritating but not deadly.
Lopez is a
man of his word. He did attack at midnight. Pity about the
chopper," he
added with glittery eyes. "That will set him
back a little small
change."

Sally didn't ask the
obvious question, but she knew that somebody had to be piloting that
helicopter. She felt sick
inside,
now that the danger was past.

"Is everyone all
right?" Jessica asked. "We heard
shots."

"The chopper was
well-equipped with weapons," Dal
las said. "But he wasn't a very good
shot."

"Thank God," Jessica said heavily.

Dallas reached in
and touched her face gently, pausing to run a rough hand over Stevie's tousled
hair. "Don't be
afraid," he said softly. "I won't let anything
happen to
you."

Jessica held his hand to her cheek and
choked back a
sob. Dallas bent to touch his
mouth to her wet eyes.

Impulsively Stevie
leaned across his mother to hug the
big blond man, too. Watching them, Sally
felt empty and
alone. They
were already a family, even if they hadn't
realized
it.

Dallas's
walkie-talkie erupted in a burst of static. "All
clear," Eb's
voice came back to them. "I'm phoning the
sheriff while the others open the
windows and turn on the
attic
fan to get this smoke out of here. Then I'll lock up."

"What about..." Dallas began.

"We'll take the women and Stevie home
with us," he said. "No sense in leaving them here for the rest of the
night. Sally?"

Dallas moved the walkie-talkie to her
mouth. "Yes?"
she said, shaken.

"Come in and help me find what you need in the way

DIANA PALMER

of clothes for all three of you. Dallas,
take Jess and Stevie
back to the house. We'll catch up."

"Sure thing."

Sally got out of the
vehicle, still in her jeans and sneak
ers and sweatshirt, her long hair falling
out of its braid. Dallas got in under the wheel as she walked back to the
house. She heard the engine roar and glanced back to see the utility vehicle
pull out of the yard. At least Jess and Stevie were safe. But she felt shaken
to the soles of her
sneakers.

Eb was in the smoky
living room, having just hung up
the phone. His mask was in one hand,
dangling along with
the small machine gun. He looked tough and angry as he
glanced at Sally's
white face. He didn't say a word. He
just held out his arm.

Sally ran to him,
and he gathered her up in his arms and
held her tight while she shivered from the shock of it all.

"I'm no wimp,
honest," she whispered in a choked at
tempt at humor. "But I'm not used to
people bombing my
house."

He chuckled deeply
and hugged her close. "Only a
smoke bomb, baby," he said gently. "Noisy and fright
ening, but not dangerous unless it set fire to
something. He had to make a statement, you see. Lopez is a man of
his word."

"Damn Lopez," she muttered.

"Amen."

Around them, men
were pouring over the house. Eb
escorted Sally down the hall to her bedroom.

"Get what you
need together," he said, "but only essentials. I'd like to get you
out of here very soon after the
sheriff arrives."

"The sheriff...?"

"It's his jurisdiction," he told her. "I'm sanctioned, if