Authors: Lindsay McKenna
"It will be done," Hector promised, taking the document and quickly writing the new clauses into the contract and initialing them.
"Anything else?"
"I want my grandparents to receive a monthly check from the government of
Peru
for five hundred dollars until the day they die. Just because they're placed in a protection program doesn't mean they will be cared for. Government people could dump my grandparents into some small town and leave them without a way to survive."
"Very well," Hector murmured, again writing hastily. He looked up and handed her the document. "Sign, please."
Pilar took the pen. She stood and placed the document on the polished surface of Hector's desk, her stomach quivering with fear. If it weren't Morgan Trayhern's own life at stake, she would never take this mission, risking her beautiful daughter, the child created out of pure love. But she owed Morgan. Scribbling her signature, she realized the enormity of her decision.
"There. . . ." she murmured, handing the document back to Hector. "It is official."
"And legal."
Hector placed the document aside. "I will make sure that all these things are done should you be killed, Pilar." He opened his hands. "But of course we will do everything to prevent that from happening in the first place. We will do our best to ensure contact with you via radio. The special troops assigned to this mission are the best we have. And one of Morgan's best mercenaries will be at your side."
Pilar sat down. "You must be speaking of Jake Randolph, then. Remember? He was with me when I led the troops to the fortress before."
"Er…no, it isn't Jake. He's at Perseus, running the company in Morgan's absence. It is another man. . . ." Hector pulled a file toward him and quickly opened it. "Ah, yes. And this is so fortunate,
Pilar—
you have worked with this man before."
Frowning, Pilar said, "I've worked only with Jake Randolph from Morgan's company."
"No, no, you misunderstand." Hector beamed happily and held up a color photo. "You must remember Culver Lachlan? He used to be with the CIA. You two worked together for three months and—"
Pilar gave a cry, standing up so swiftly that the heavy chair she was sitting in was nearly knocked over. Her fists knotted and she stared, frozen, at the face looking back at her from the photo.
Hector frowned. "Pilar? What is it? You look as if you're going to faint.
Dios,
are you all right?" He quickly dropped the photo and rushed around the desk. Slipping his hand under her elbow, he helped her back into the chair. "Come, come," he coaxed, "sit down. There…that's it." He straightened and gave her a confused look. "Pilar, you look as though you've seen a ghost. What is it? Surely, you remember Mr. Lachlan? He was the last agent you worked with before you had to quit." He patted her shoulder. "Pilar?"
Tears rushed to her eyes as she sat rigidly, only vaguely aware of Hector's attempts to comfort her. Oh, no, no…how could this be? Could fate be this cruel? Her mouth had gone dry and her throat constricted. Tears blurred the world around her as she struggled to control her rampant feelings.
Culver.
How she had tried to put him out of her heart and mind.
Culver
Lachlan
.
The name sent a bittersweet river of feelings coursing through her, including a terror, and anxiety in her stomach that nauseated her.
"
Dios,
Pilar, let me get you a glass of water. You look so pale. Stay still. Stay still and I will be right back. . . ."
She barely heard Hector leave her side. All her focus, all her rage, sadness and guilt were aimed at the photo lying on his desk. It had been years. Eight long years…Pressing her cool, trembling fingertips to her brow, Pilar tried to rise above the rush of emotions released by the unexpected sight of that photo.
Alone in the office, she stood on wobbly knees. Leaning across the desk, she forced herself to take the photo and turn it around, though her fingers seemed to burn where she touched it.
Culver
Lachlan
.
His name went like a knife to her suddenly aching heart.
Eight painful years of trying to forget.
How could he suddenly be thrown back into her life?
Suddenly panicked, Pilar acknowledged with a horrible realization that by signing those papers, she had been stuck not only with the mission, but with
Lachlan
. She forced herself to look at the photo. He was a giant of a man at six foot five, brawny and strong as his Scottish ancestors before him. He was square jawed, with a thick, bull-like neck, broad, powerful shoulders and a barrel chest. He was built as stoutly as the finest Paso Fino.
Solid.
Hard.
Dangerous.
Oh, how dangerous he had been to her young, vulnerable emotions! Though he'd been only twenty-five at the time himself, but he'd been far from innocent to the ways of the world as she had been.
Much as she wanted to, Pilar couldn't forget the imposing shadow Culver had cast on her life. But the man in the photo looked different from the Culver she remembered. Here was a hardened warrior with a face like armor itself, the pale blue eyes devoid of emotion.
Jerking back her hand, Pilar stood hypnotized by the photo, wanting to wrench her gaze from it, but helpless to do so. Her heart was pounding like that of a frightened animal relentlessly pursued by a jaguar. She saw a coldness she'd not seen before in Culver. His mouth…She quivered internally, recalling his mouth upon her own, hotly, swiftly taking hers, stealing her breath, stealing her very soul with those scalding, spiraling kisses. Now that mouth had become a thin, harsh line, no
longer revealing
any softness.
"Pilar?" Hector came rushing back into the room with a glass of water, the liquid slopping onto his hand in his hurry. "Here. Drink this. . . ."
She sat down and accepted the glass as Hector hovered anxiously, wringing his hands. He was breathing hard, and she felt bad to have caused him such distress. After sipping the water dutifully, she handed it back to him.
"Th-thank you, Hector. I will be all right now."
"Are you sure? I thought you were going to faint, Pilar."
"This agent,
Lachlan
…"
"Yes?" Hector set the glass down on his desk, near enough for her to reach it if she wanted to. He circled the desk and sat. "What about him?"
"Do—" In spite of herself, her voice broke. "Do I have to work with him?"
"There is no one else. Is there a problem here, Pilar? I thought you would be overjoyed to know that an agent you had worked with undercover before would be helping you again. You already know each other, and he seemed to like you. I recall he did try to contact you after that mission. You're a team already, Pilar, and I believe it will serve you well."
Pilar felt torn as never before to divulge the shaming truth to Hector. But the look of fatherly anxiety on his face stopped her. She could tell no one. Not even him. Only her grandparents and Fernando, her now deceased husband, knew the truth. Not even Rane knew—nor would she ever know. Pilar's throat ached with tension from holding back unshed tears. She wanted to weep violently, like the sudden thunderstorms that popped up and rolled across the hills above the jungle, sweeping everything clean. But if she cried, Hector would only worry more.
"Pilar?"
"It's all right," she managed to whisper. Picking up the glass of cool water again, she sipped it.
"You do not trust this man?"
"I…trust him. . . ."
"What then?"
"Are you sure he's with Morgan's company?"
"Very sure.
Jake Randolph called me personally to tell me he was available. Jake, too, felt it was a good thing you two had worked together before."
Touching her throat, Pilar whispered, "And he wanted to come on this mission knowing I would be his partner?"
Hector shrugged dramatically. "Jake and I did not talk about that. He just said that
Lachlan
was available and would take the mission."
"But he's been told I'll be on it?" she persisted.
Hector began to relax a little, some of the tension draining from his features.
"Of course, Pilar.
He was briefed as much as you have been."
Faintness rimmed Pilar's vision, but she fought it off. The desire, heartbreak, rage and anguish refused to be stilled within her, and she felt like a volcano erupting inwardly. Only the cool solidity of the glass clenched between her hands gave her some semblance of sanity in that moment. Pilar couldn't believe Culver would go on a mission with her. Not now. Not ever again, after what had happened.
"Wh-when will he arrive?"
"Tomorrow afternoon at three.
We'll pick him up at the
Lima
airport."
"And where do you want us to meet?"
Hector sighed and brought out a large manila envelope stamped Top Secret. "Only one other person and I know the contents of this envelope, Pilar. I helped formulate the plans contained within it, including specific and detailed instructions of anything you need to know. This mission has the strictest degree of secrecy because we know there are moles on Ramirez's payroll.
"Please be very careful with the contents of this envelope. Read it where no one will disturb you. Provisions have been suggested for Rane while you are gone, and we will make sure your employer has no inkling of why you're leaving for two weeks. We've arranged to have one of our agents call the farm and ask them to fly you to
Argentina
to pick up a mare that will be bred to El Diablo. The owner will think you are in
Argentina
, preparing the flight for the mare. Of course, we'll have a mare show up at the farm when you return to maintain your cover."
"Good," Pilar whispered as she nervously touched the thick, heavy envelope.
"Here," Hector said with a frown, handing
Lachlan
's photo to her. "Put it in there with the rest."
Woodenly, she did as she was instructed. "Are you sure he knows he's going to be working with me?" she couldn't resist asking again.
Hector gave her a strange look. "I'm positive. Jake Randolph said he would brief
Lachlan
immediately after our phone call. I told him I would try to talk you into taking this mission." He touched the phone at his right hand. "As soon as you leave, I'll call Jake to tell him you've signed the contract."
"I see." Pilar took a deep, unsteady breath and got to her feet. She gripped the edge of the desk for a moment, reorienting herself.
"Pilar," he said worriedly, "is there something I should know? You are acting strangely, and it isn't like you. Is there a problem with this agent? I personally went over his file from the CIA and Perseus. He has an impeccable record and was given the highest marks when he left The Company. You will see that for yourself, though." He pointed to the envelope beneath her left arm. "His complete dossier is in there for you to peruse."
Alarm spread through her.
"And what about me?
The information on me?"