CA 46.5 Operation Second Honeymoon (2 page)

Something to think about, she decided, as they drove west. It was time.

The sun had settled atop the mountains, its warmth fading with the light. The night would bring the desert chill and the not-so-subtle reminder that nature still ruled. Dinner and drinks at their hotel's fabulous restaurant would help to chase away that chill. She looked forward to the hours she and Lucas would spend in front of a blazing fire in their room afterward. Her husband had checked all three of the newly refurbished hotels in Pozos until he found the one room that included a fireplace for just that purpose.

Lucas would never admit as much, but he was a romantic at heart. She'd flipped through a few of the thrillers that were his preferred reading and so far not one failed to include a hint of romance between the main protagonists. She smiled to herself. Just something else she loved about her own private hero. His body was fit, muscles strong and well-toned. No one was a better marksman. Yet, deep inside—where it counted— Lucas Camp was a man of heart with emotions that ran soul deep.

Their destination had once been a large monastery. An unfinished church sat alongside the ruins of the monastery. A few decades ago, renovations had been started in hopes of creating a retreat for those in search of solitude and emotional healing. But the endeavor had been abandoned when funding dried up and the place fell into disrepair once more. The architecture was a stunning example of majestic old Mexico: adobe walls, columns and walls set amid the rough, rolling dunes of clumpy brown dirt and scrub grass, with only a single mesquite tree to provide a breath of shade from the harsh sun. In spite of the neglect, prickly pear cacti thrived while desert trumpet vine bloomed a breathtaking pink.

"A hospital?" Victoria asked as Salvadore explained the plan for the refurbishment.

"Si,
senora." He parked the Jeep between the monastery and the orphaned church that had never seen fruition. "There is little in the way of medical care between Pozos and San Luis Potosi. The facility will offer those in the surrounding villages much needed care."

Excitement kindled in Victoria's belly. "What a spectacular idea!" She and Lucas exchanged a look that verified his thoughts were forming along the same lines.

"We would be very interested in helping," he offered. "Can you tell us what stage you're at with the planning of the hospital?"

He gestured to the sky. "Sunset is quite close. Why don't I continue the tour and we can discuss the planning in more detail over dinner?"

Lucas and Victoria agreed, and Salvadore led them through the building. The extensive tour and briefing underscored the overwhelming amount of work to be done. The outer walls were crumbling in areas. A massive iron gate welcomed those who dared to enter despite the warning signs posted. Salvadore had closed and locked the gate after they drove through it, explaining that the locks helped to deter the
ocupa.
Squatters were an issue with abandoned buildings, even one that had little to offer beyond basic shelter.

The courtyard sprawled before the massive main structure, which opened to a large front room. Somber steps led to a second level. A separate narrow and winding stone staircase climbed to the bell tower. Long ago that bell had clanged regularly, heralding news and reminders to those who dwelled inside. Numerous other smaller rooms and narrow corridors threaded through the adobe walls of the main floor. Though the burden of transformation was extensive, Victoria could imagine the rooms filled with the equipment and medicines necessary for healing. Salvadore provided an eloquent and detailed story of the broad revitalization plan. Victoria sensed his determination and fervor. The job would get done.

Long shadows had fallen, overtaking the high walls around the monastery by the time Victoria strolled back into the courtyard. The cool breeze made her shiver, but inside she felt warm with contentment. The promise of this effort made her giddy.

Lucas draped his arm over her shoulders. "Sloan will be pleased we're interested in this project."

"He will indeed." Victoria wished their friend would call. The news a few hours ago had not been the best. His wife had suffered complications in delivery and things were touch and go. "I hope he has better news about Rachel and the baby by now."

"I'm certain they're in good hands."

Victoria knew Sloan—he would ensure only the best treatment for his family. Still, she worried.

The distinct, cold sound of bullets exploding from their muzzles suddenly echoed in the air a split second before the hollow crack of rounds boring into ancient adobe shattered the silence.

Lucas closed himself around Victoria like a cloaking armor and they tumbled to the ground. "Stay down. Stay down," he murmured in her ear. It wasn't until he'd rolled away from her quaking body that she became aware of moaning to her right. Not daring to raise her head, Victoria scrubbed her face through the dirt in order to turn far enough to see.

Salvadore was hit. He lay facedown. Blood spread across the dirt around him in a crimson pool.

The deep-throated blasts of a large caliber handgun and the softer
thwack, thwack
of another lesser weapon filled the air.

They had been ambushed.

Victoria's heart burst with fear. Where was Lucas?

With her next breath her mind calmed and she focused on the wounded man. Lucas could handle himself. Salvadore needed help. She grabbed her courage and began to scoot toward him.

Chapter Three

Three shots sent the enemy scattering from the gate. The silence lingered a full ten seconds but Lucas held his position behind the old stone well. The timeworn wooden bucket still hanging from a frayed rope rocked ever so slightly in the cold desert wind. The two men who'd fired through the towering iron gate were still out there. There was no guarantee there weren't more. For now Lucas had gained a reprieve.

His heart dropped into his gut when he looked over at Victoria. She dragged Salvadore's lifeless body toward the monastery's open doorway. Lucas's gaze swung back to the gate. Still clear. He scanned the top of the crumbling wall for as far as he could see. If these bastards scaled the wall, he and Victoria would be in trouble.

Lucas didn't dare call out to his wife and risk drawing the enemy's attention to her. All the while monitoring the perimeter, he held his breath as he gauged her struggle with the man's weight. The sky grew darker with every passing moment. The night would work to their advantage once they were all safely inside. For now, he needed to keep a distance apart from Victoria in order to draw the fire his way if their assailants regrouped and reengaged.

Cell phone service was sketchy at best. Calling for help would be all but impossible.

Victoria hauled the fallen guide through the entrance of the ramshackle structure that was their only sanctuary.
Thank God.
Lucas pulled in a breath. He couldn't measure how badly Salvadore was injured. Very, judging by the broad, dark pattern of blood on the ground.

Lucas listened for movement beyond the walls. Nothing. His muscles tensed in preparation to make a run for the monastery door. Still quiet.

Go!

He rushed for the entrance. Two rapid blasts splintered the quiet. Lucas hit the ground. Rolled. He fired once at the gate. The darkness was too thick now to see the gunmen, but their shots had come from that direction. Staying low, he scrambled for the doorway. A third shot plowed into the earth next to him. He dove for the floor inside the monastery. The echo of another shot followed him inside.

"I've slowed the bleeding," Victoria called out. "His pulse is still strong."

Lucas pushed to his feet and moved toward the sound of Victoria's voice. By the time he reached her side, his eyes had adjusted to the darkness well enough to make out hers and Salvadore's forms.

"How bad is it?" Lucas knelt beside the man's still body.

Victoria held her cell phone over the man's exposed abdomen. The dim glow from the screen provided sufficient light for Lucas to see that the entrance wound appeared low enough not to have hit a lung or his heart, but it could have hit other major organs that could prove life threatening.

"Judging by the exit wound," Victoria said quietly, "I'm hopeful. The head wound was the biggest source of the bleeding." The light roved upward. A plug of his scalp was missing but the bullet appeared to have only grazed his head.

Lucas placed a hand on his wife's arm. "Find a place to hide. Do what you can to keep him alive." The rooms and corridors they had explored on the tour they'd taken reeled through his mind, but he couldn't recall a particularly good hiding spot. "I'm going up to the bell tower. I don't have enough ammunition for a proper defense but I'll hold them back as long as possible. I can try to pick them off one at a time if they come over that wall."

Victoria touched his face, her trembling fingers trailing across his jaw. "Be careful,

Lucas. We still have much to do."

He couldn't see the fear in her eyes but he could hear it in her voice. He grabbed her and kissed her hard and fast. "And we'll do it all," he promised.

He and Victoria had known each other for more than thirty years. He didn't have to spell it out to her. They were in trouble. Whatever these bastards wanted, leaving survivors would not be a part of their plan.

The narrow winding steps that led to the bell tower were uneven and crumbling. Lucas stumbled twice before reaching the top. Moonlight melted down the walls surrounding the monastery. The sallow glow allowed him a degree of surveillance. He'd fired four shots, leaving eleven in the clip. He reached beneath the hem of his trouser leg and touched the bulge in his sock. A second clip waited there. It wasn't much but he was damned glad he never failed to prepare for the unexpected even after retirement. And even on vacation. The training was ingrained far too deep.

Victoria hadn't been pleased when he'd met with a private arms source after arriving in Mexico. Since traveling by air with weapons was near impossible, he'd armed himself upon arriving. They couldn't travel via the Colby Agency jet because it would have nullified their carefully arranged plans to remain anonymous. It wasn't a perfect world and unfortunately such steps were necessary. If he'd had any doubts, this ambush proved his analysis.

A shadow passed the gate. Lucas took aim. "Come on, amigos." He hadn't gotten a good look at the two men, but he felt relatively certain they were Hispanic. Americans, whether traveling on business or for pleasure, were often targets of kidnap-and-ransom schemes. Evidently someone had seen through the security precautions Lucas and Victoria had taken and thought they were good targets.

A woman's image flashed through his mind. He shook off the idea. He had to have been mistaken. If
she
was even still alive. Why would she be here? And if somehow she were, she had no bones to pick with Lucas. She had provided intelligence to him from time to time, for a price. They had shared a brief physical encounter. End of story. This ambush would have nothing to do with
her.

Another image elbowed the woman from Lucas's thoughts.
Keaton.
Fury boiled to an instant simmer in Lucas's gut. Victoria would dismiss the notion that he was involved in this. But every strand of DNA in Lucas's being screamed at him to beware the man. His suspicions remained as yet unproven but the facts were shaking loose, slowly but surely.

Right now, however, he zeroed in on the shadowy movement atop the east wall. Survival was the single relevant factor. His forefinger tightened on the trigger of his 9 mm. A fierce pop reverberated around him. The shadow dropped to the ground inside the perimeter of the wall.

The tension eased in Lucas's muscles. He scanned the courtyard, then the wall and finally the gate. There was no way to guess how many assailants were out there. Two at

least. His position provided a full 360 view of the wall and the grounds around the two structures. The old well, the mesquite tree and two half walls that had once divided the courtyard provided potential cover for the enemy. No matter how long this standoff lasted, Lucas couldn't afford the slightest hesitation in his monitoring. Sharp focus was the key.

He prayed Victoria had found a decent hiding spot. If the worst happened, he wanted her protected. Without a weapon, her wits were her only means of defense.

Lucas would lay odds on her wits any day.

Chapter Four

Victoria's heart thumped as the sound of gunfire faded. She prayed Lucas had safely reached the bell tower. She listened for any indication that the gunmen had invaded the walls. The wind whipped furiously, a chilling score to the otherwise silent night.

Leaning close to Salvadore, she whispered, "I'm going to look for a place we can hide. Lie still. I'll be back soon." Leaving him was a difficult choice, but there was no other option. Finding some level of protection was necessary. As far as she could determine, Salvadore was not conscious, but just in case, she wanted him to know that she was not abandoning him.

As she moved through the darkness, she used her hands and her memory of what she'd seen on the tour to guide her. Each step she made was carefully placed. Reserving the battery in her cell phone was essential. Though on last check the phone was useless as far as making a call, the small amount of light it provided could prove invaluable.

She paused at the narrow pathway that led up to the bell tower. Her lips compressed to prevent calling out to her husband. Sparing the time to go up and check on him could cost far more in the end. He didn't need the distraction. Lucas was counting on her to do what needed to be done. Victoria cautiously continued. If she could find a place to hide Salvadore, perhaps then she could help Lucas.

Without a weapon? Frustration burrowed deep in her chest. There was little she could do beyond this immediate task. As she moved along each corridor and through each room, she roved her hands over the walls in search of a nook large enough to provide concealment. There were no closets as far as she recalled. A storeroom near the kitchen was too open. She moved on to the kitchen, the largest space near the back of the rundown structure.