Enemy Mine (12 page)

“Nice day for flying?” Garcia said, gesturing to the cloudless blue sky above them.

“It is,” Mac agreed as he came to a halt. Garcia wanted something. It wasn’t like the man to come meet him like this.

A few gardeners were in the background, picking up fallen branches from the thunderstorms that regularly hammered the jungle this time of year. They, too, had confused looks on their faces. Therese wasn’t in sight, she must be in her office, running the place as usual, Mac decided. He had learned early on that the beautiful Peruvian woman was Carlos’s personal assistant par excellence. She kept his bed warm, kept him happy and had the steel-trap mind of a military strategist. Truth be known, Therese was the power behind Garcia’s throne, and in some ways, Mac believed the
patrón
knew that.

“What do you think,
compadre?
”

“About what?” Mac asked, on guard.

“Señorita Lincoln.”

His heart thudded. Carefully, Mac said, “What about her?”

Carlos pulled out his gold cigarette case and opened it. He delicately took a cigarette and snapped the case shut. “Well, today is the day? If she has passed the test, should she not show up soon? Do you figure twenty miles a day?”

Mac wondered if Garcia was fishing. Had they found Lincoln’s body with the knapsack on it? Fear thrummed through him as he tried to appear casual. “Yeah, if she’s in good physical shape she might make twenty a day. Why?” He watched Garcia light his cigarette and take several puffs before removing it from his thin lips.

“Just curious. Do you think she’ll do it?”

“I don’t know,
patrón.
”

“Therese says she will. You know, woman’s intuition…” Garcia chuckled indulgently as he looked toward the gate in the compound’s wall.

“She has good instincts,” Mac agreed.

“What do
you
think?”

Uneasy, Mac said, “I hope she’ll make it. I think she’d make a great nanny for Tiki. From the looks of things, she has the right amount of defensive skills to keep your daughter safe,
patrón.
I haven’t seen her personnel file, of course, so I’m talking through my hat on this.”

Nodding, Carlos puffed away. “
Sí,
you do not have all the information, that’s true. But you were in the military at one time until your dishonorable discharge. You
were in combat in Afghanistan, so you have good gut instincts, too. I was just wondering what you thought.”

Maybe Garcia was genuinely hoping that Katherine Lincoln would make it home today. That would be a first. Carlos didn’t usually bother with a nanny’s test results, leaving those things to Therese.

“Well, if she does make it, she’ll either show up today or tomorrow, I would guess,” Mac said.

Grunting, Garcia nodded. Sticking the cigarette in the corner of his mouth, he clapped Mac on the shoulder. “If you see her, let Therese know immediately.”

“Of course,” Mac said, and watched the drug lord turn and amble down the brick sidewalk toward the main villa. What had that been all about?

Yesterday, an unmarked black Apache helicopter had been spotted less than ten miles from the villa. Mac knew that there was a secret U.S. Army black ops base near Machu Picchu, hidden away in a huge lava cave. The mountains in the area looked like huge loaves of French bread turned on end and covered with greenery. They had been created from lava millions of years ago, and many had cave complexes running through them.

It wasn’t a secret to Garcia or his men. They knew that the U.S. Army had put a fleet of combat Apache helicopters down here, with the approval of the Peruvian government. The Apache pilots tried to stop him and other drug lords from flying cocaine out of Peru to surrounding countries. Yesterday, an Apache had flown very close to the villa, which had been unusual and had sent jitters through the community. Mac had heard about it from distressed soldiers who thought for sure the black helo
was going to attack them. It never had before, but Mac suspected that the Apache pilots operating out of that cavern knew exactly where Garcia was—at all times.

He himself had never been harassed in the air by the phantom Apaches. Of course, his flights were to Cuzco and back, not considered a drug flight route. Maybe that’s what had Garcia spooked. Had the black ops helo spotted Katherine on the trail within range of his villa? Was that why they’d come so close?

“W
HAT THE HELL
is
that
?” Chief Warrant Officer 2 Jessica Merrill demanded into her head set. She was talking to her copilot and friend, Vickey Mabrey, who was serving as weapons officer on this mission. Grasping the controls, Jessica urged the Apache into a slight starboard bank at five thousand feet above the Peruvian jungle. “You got your infrared on, Snake?”

The Boeing Apache helicopter was one of the most advanced in the world for combat. It not only carried live television pictures back to their HUDs, or heads-up display units, it also had an infrared scanner so precise it could detect the heat of a single human. Sitting in the lower cockpit, Jessica frowned and kept her feet steady on the rudders while she gripped the collective and cyclic with her hands.

“Hold on a sec, I’m switching modes,” Snake muttered. “I’m looking…Yeah, there it is! A definite heat signature source down there.” She grinned crookedly. “My, what good eyes you have, Wild Woman.” Jessica had gotten her handle because she dyed a thick strand of her blond hair red, and generally raised hell like a
good ol’ Montana gal should, even if she was in the ultraconservative U.S. Army.

Wild Woman snorted, “I’m bored to death. There’s not a druggie in the sky.” It was midday and they were trolling along a known drug route about twenty miles from the temple complex of Machu Picchu. Of course, they were under strict orders by Major Maya Stevenson, commanding officer of the Black Jaguar Squadron, never to expose themselves to
turistas.
That was a huge no-no in their game book. As a black ops outfit, they weren’t supposed to be seen, photographed or identified by outsiders—especially camera-happy tourists who snapped anything that moved.

Wild Woman grinned wickedly. The black Apache might show up in a camera frame and be called a condor because the tourist wouldn’t know what else it could be.

Everyone in the BJS knew that Carlos Garcia, the chief drug lord in Peru, had a villa very close to the known drug routes. Today, for some intuitive reason, Wild Woman had decided to fly over this area. Garcia usually had his drug flights originate elsewhere, and she knew why. He didn’t want to draw the lethal capabilities of the Apache arsenal down upon his head.

As combat pilots, Wild Woman and Snake were under strict orders not to fire on any ground structures—only on airplanes or helicopters whose fuselage numbers could be checked by computer and verified as known druggies who flew cocaine out of the country.

Snake frowned. She pushed up her visor and squinted into the HUD in front of her. “Yeah, this is a human, Wild Woman. One person. Doesn’t look armed or dangerous.”

“Probably a villager on the path,” she agreed.

Snake looked up. She sat in the upper cockpit, above the flight commander. “The target is heading toward Garcia’s villa.”

“Drug carrier, then?”

Shrugging, Snake tweaked the HUD. “I dunno. He’s carrying something on his back.”

“Let’s take a closer look, shall we?”

Snake glanced up to her right. “Remember the flight restrictions. We can’t get too close to Garcia’s villa or the major will have our ass, not to mention our rank. I’m up for CWO3 and I don’t want to lose it on a wild-goose chase.”

“Yeah, yeah, I know, I know.” Wild Woman headed down, aiming the nose of the dinosaurlike Apache toward the thin strip of trail. The air was smooth this morning, the sky a bright blue. Blinding rays of sunshine shot through the cockpit, but the air-conditioning kept her cool in her Nomex fire retardant black flight suit.

The only identification either pilot wore was a BJS patch attached with Velcro on her upper right arm. It showed the head and shoulders of a snarling black jaguar on a red-white-and-blue backdrop. Otherwise, no one would know they were Americans, because their aircraft bore no fuselage numbers or flag.

Snake craned her neck toward the cockpit Plexiglas. “Hey, I see him!” The chopper trolled slowly, following the muddy ribbon in the thick jungle about a thousand feet below. The rotor wash made the top leaves shake and shimmy as the aircraft passed.

“Naw,” Snake said after studying the person through
binoculars, “that ain’t no native carrying cocaine. It’s a
hiker!
One of those stupid white women who probably didn’t get her fill of excitement on the Inca Trail, so she’s trying this one out. Fool that she is…”

“Dumb, if you ask me. She’s hiking straight for Garcia’s villa. I wonder if she knows where she’s headed? She’d be the first one that did.” Lost hikers weren’t uncommon around Machu Picchu.

Shrugging, Snake put the binoculars down. “She looks free, white and twenty-ish to me. Nothin’ we can do. She’s a legitimate hiker here in the wilds of Peru.”

“Let’s take a photo of her, just in case. Another mug shot for the major’s files.”

“Roger that,” Snake muttered, flicking a switch. “Candid Camera time, honey. Hey! She’s looking up at us! Isn’t that cool, dude?”

“Just snap the photo, will you, Snake?”

“Smile! You’re on Candid Camera!” Snake pressed a button that would capture the hiker’s image on a digital card. “Now she’s indelibly printed in our BJS files of who’s who, Wild Woman. Are you satisfied?”

“Hell yes! I’m bored. Let’s go see if we can scare up some druggies south of here, shall we? This is our last month down here before we go to new assignments. Let’s make the most of it.”

Snake broke out in song.
“‘Fly me to the moon….’”

Quirking her mouth, Wild Woman eased the Apache back toward the known drug routes. She guided the helicopter upward, the gravity pressing her back into the seat, the harness biting slightly into her shoulders. “Gawd, Snake! Stop yowling! You sound like a damn
Siamese cat with its tail stuck in the door! Give my ears a rest, dude!”

With the weather so clear today, Major Stevenson had anticipated a lot of druggies wanting to make a run to the border of Bolivia, and she’d put every available helicopter and flight team into the air to stop them. Jessica and Vickey had other fish to fry and couldn’t waste time checking out a lone hiker. Sometimes, though, drug dealers paid Indians in the surrounding villages to carry the goods. BJS pilots would use infrared to find a dozen or so of them with huge sacks of cocaine on their backs, walking to Bolivia or other drop-off points. Not the case today.

“Hey, I thought you liked my singing!”

Snickering, Wild Woman said, “Yeah, when I’m drunk on pisco and sittin’ at a bar in Cuzco, drownin’ my sorrows.”

“Let’s go find some druggies, Wild Woman. I’m hungry for a kill….”

I
T WAS
1500 in the hot, humid afternoon when Mac heard Esau, one of the guards, sing out in an excited voice, “She’s coming! She’s coming!”

Mac had been sitting in the helo, doing some weekly safety checks on the bird. He twisted around to see for himself. Sure enough, Katherine Lincoln had just come through the archway in the outer wall. Relief, sharp and sweet, sheeted through him.

Her hair was matted and uncombed, obviously dampened from the humidity and her exertion. He could tell she’d slipped and fallen many times because her clothes were covered in red mud. She held her head high and her shoulders square as she marched confidently into the stronghold. The look in her eyes was one of fearlessness, of self-assurance. Even the two soldiers on guard duty at the gate grinned and hailed her like a conquering heroine.

Mac knew that Therese was asleep. Midafternoon was siesta time in South America, and only gringos like himself worked through it. Guards, however, had no choice. They were on duty around the estate 24/7. Therese had given him instructions to take care of Ms.
Lincoln should she show up. Mac remembered the wolfish smile Therese had given him and the glimmer in her large, intelligent eyes. She was sure Katherine would make it back. And she had.

As he slid out of the Bell, Mac wiped his hands. He closed the door and walked briskly so that he could intercept her before she went to Therese’s office. Several other gardeners, all older men who used to be farmers in the region at one time, clapped as Katherine passed by. She had a weary smile for all of them.

God help him, but she was beautiful, mud and all. It was the look in her blue eyes that made Mac realize all over again how much of a warrior she was. When Katherine saw him her mouth pulled into a dazzling smile of unparalleled beauty. Heat burned through Mac as he returned her smile of greeting. He drew to a halt six feet away, because if he didn’t keep a safe distance, he would sweep her into his arms and kiss her until they melted together. Every night she was gone, his dreams of kissing Katherine had been torrid and too real.

“Welcome back, Ms. Lincoln.”

“Thank you, Mac. Call me Kathy.” She drowned in his stormy gray eyes, unable to tear her gaze from his face. Mac stood relaxed, hands resting languidly on his hips, that boyish smile dissolving her defenses. Suddenly, her body simmered with a throbbing need that only he could soothe, a need that caught her completely off guard. Since Curt’s sudden, shocking death, she thought her heart had died.

“Not Katherine?”

“No, that’s my official name. My friends and family call me Kathy.”

Friends and family, eh?
Well, okay, he definitely wanted to be friends with her. Much more than that, Mac realized. As Kathy pushed her bedraggled blond hair off her face, he grinned. “There’s a nice swimming hole in back of the villa.” He lowered his voice. “Away from prying ears and eyes. Everyone is sleeping right now because it’s siesta time. They won’t start stirring for another two hours. Therese wanted me to take care of your needs if you came in during this time. What will it be? Swimming hole or a hot shower in your villa?”

Gazing up at his warm, intimate expression, Kathy felt her heart contract. “I’m a nature girl. I’ll take the swimming hole.” Besides, she could be alone with him—the man who had called her bright angel. The endearment had never left Kathy. When she’d felt scared on the trail, she would replay that sweet name and the husky tone with which Mac had said it. It had calmed her frayed nerves many times. She didn’t want to divulge that to him, though. If he knew how much power he had over her…Well, she was barely able to keep her hands to herself. All Kathy wanted to do was kiss him and sink into his strong arms and cherish him as she was sure he would cherish her.

Mac gestured between the two main buildings. “Follow me. I have some towels, shampoo and soap waiting down there.”

“You’re really on top of things,” Kathy said with a low laugh. She fell into step with Mac and realized he was cutting his stride back to match hers. Though her legs were aching and tired, Kathy felt amazingly alert. When they were well past the buildings, she looked around to
make sure no one was near. “I ditched the knapsack five miles away from the estate. They’ll never find it if they go looking for it. That’s why I was late. I dug a hole for it in a dense grove of trees well off the path.”

“That was quite a job,” Mac said. He was relieved she’d taken such care to hide the knapsack, because if it were ever found, he would be fingered, and a bullet to the brain would be the next order of business.

Shrugging, Kathy pushed the hair off her face. She felt gritty, dirty, sweaty and longed for a cooling bath. The brick path curved downward at a much sharper angle now and she could hear a waterfall below them. Surrounding them on all sides was the jungle, but it had been thinned out here at the compound. Large-leaved plants swatted gently against them as they walked.

“I fixed up a lunch pail with some food, too. You’re probably starving to death, after subsisting on protein bars for a couple of days.”

Laughing softly, Kathy said, “Just like that jaguar.” She told him the story as they went down to the pool. Just as she finished relaying her adventure, they found themselves at a twenty-foot waterfall, which flowed over black lava rocks to an oval pool below. The open water created a hole in the thick jungle cover. Kathy appreciated seeing the hazy blue sky and bright sunlight that poured through the opening.

“Wow, this place looks like Shangri-La,” she exclaimed. Spotting two pink, fluffy beach towels on a flat rock near the pool, she quickly unlaced her wet, muddy boots and took off the damp socks.

“Yeah, Therese said that the
patrón
had this place
created for his wife, Paloma.” Mac decided not to say too much more about her. Kathy would find out soon enough about this sordid family. He walked over to a nearby fallen log. “I’ll sit here with my back to you while you strip down and jump in. You can tell me about the rest of your adventures.” Mac knew he should leave, but he caved in to his need to remain with her.

“Thanks.” Kathy quickly shed her damp, filthy clothes, stepped gingerly into the soft wooden chips at the edge of the water and stuck her toes into the clear turquoise pool. It was deliciously cool and terribly inviting. Grabbing the washcloth and soap, she waded across the sandy bottom until the water was up to her waist.

Mac stared up the path as Kathy washed herself and shampooed her hair. No one ever used this pool, to his knowledge. At least not now. Paloma, ever addicted and in a heroin haze, lay in her sumptuous bedroom suite on the second floor of the main villa. Mac had heard that she used to come down here daily to bathe and swim, but now preferred heroin to natural highs.

Another reason to bring Kathy here was that it was one of the few places that wasn’t bugged. He could hear her splashing happily behind him. Every once in a while she would groan with delight. He liked that husky sound, and his imagination was going wild, wondering how she looked without her clothes.

“You know,” Kathy called as she waded deeper into the water, “I saw something very unusual in the sky.”

“Oh?”

“Yesterday afternoon I saw a black helicopter hover above me, where I was walking on the jaguar path. It
was pretty close.” She tried to sound casual and matter-of-fact. Kathy figured a civilian couldn’t distinguish one helo from another, but she knew damn well it was an Apache combat helicopter that had swooped down to above where she’d been walking on the trail. Since it was an Apache, she guessed it was either owned by the Peruvian government, or there was a U.S.-backed black ops going on down here that she wasn’t aware of. Would Mac know anything?

“A black helicopter?” Frowning, Mac realized the Apache that had given everyone at the villa the jitters must have been the same one she’d seen.

“Yeah. Black and evil looking. It was carrying what looked like a lot of weapons.” Kathy could name them off, but that would be a dead giveaway. She stared at Mac’s wide, strong back. She wondered what he was thinking, because he was quiet for a moment.

“There are a lot of helicopters in this area,” Mac said, pretending not to be that interested. He knew exactly who’d been piloting that helo. He’d been briefed on the Black Jaguar Squadron before he’d gone undercover. “Probably a
turista
flight from an outfit in Cuzco. They fly out here all the time. Tourists like seeing the Machu Picchu area from above.”

Kathy turned and started wading out of the water. “Oh. It didn’t look very civilian.” She hoped Mac would say something else. He didn’t, much to her consternation.

After getting out of the pool, Kathy quickly toweled off. Mac had thoughtfully left a pink cotton, knee-length shift for her to wear. Eyeing her muddy clothes, she was more than happy to slip into the simple gown. “Okay,
I’m dressed. You can turn around,” she called. To her delight, Mac had brought a comb and brush, too, which she picked up. She walked over to the log and sat down a few feet away from him, facing the pool.

“I’m beginning to feel human,” she said. “Thank you…for everything. I owe you—big time.”

Mac turned and faced her, sitting with his thighs parted, elbows resting on them. “Yes, you do, bright angel.” He saw her cheeks suddenly redden, and he held his breath. Why had he used the endearment? He couldn’t get involved with this woman! He simply couldn’t. Yet he sat there frozen, waiting for her reaction.

Feeling the heat in her cheeks, Kathy knew she was blushing over his calling her bright angel. His voice had turned so damn personal and husky, flowing across her as if he were using his fingers to graze her flesh once again. “That’s a beautiful name.”

“You like it?”

Kathy gently worked through the snarls in her hair with the comb. Once again she saw the warmth in his gray eyes as he held her gaze. “Yes, I do. But it’s making me feel kind of awkward.” She saw his brows dip. “I’m not even hired here yet and there’s something…between us.” God, the
last
thing she’d ever expected in an undercover mission was to be irresistibly drawn to a drug dealer! And her heart was winning the battle. Kathy knew she had to put a stop to Mac’s obvious interest in her, but how? Seeing the disappointment in his expression, she whispered, “I just didn’t expect, well, to meet a man I was attracted to. Not here….”

“I wasn’t looking for a relationship, either. It’s just sort of happened.” His heart beat hard to underscore the truth of his words. So he’d roast in hell at night, wondering over and over what it would be like to kiss that beautiful mouth of hers. Judging from the yearning and confusion he saw in her eyes, Mac sensed that she liked him, too. A lot more than she was willing to admit. That was okay; he could live with it. He had a lot of patience when it came to courting someone he liked.

She managed a slight, nervous smile. “Can we take this one day at a time, Mac? I have a job to do and I don’t want to disappoint the
patrón.
But I want to take you to dinner in Cuzco later if I get this job. That’s the least I can do to repay you.”

Barely able to handle the burning look in his eyes and the way the corners of his mouth quirked, Kathy felt her desire for him triple. Mac had done nothing but help her. Ever since they’d met—was it only four days ago?—he’d been there for her. Kathy was torn up inside, especially when she thought about what she’d come to Peru to accomplish. She would just have to take it a minute at a time. An hour at a time. It was so easy to pretend Mac was just a man, not a drug dealer. Did undercover agents ever get involved on a mission? Kathy didn’t know, but it was happening to her right now.

“That would be nice. I haven’t been taken to dinner by a woman in a long time.” Mac met her laughter-filled eyes. Kathy Lincoln sure cleaned up nice. He could smell the faint scent of the jasmine shampoo she’d used on her hair. The blond strands, though darker when wet, still shone like old gold as she patiently worked the
strands free of snarls. Her cheeks were glowing with good health, and when his gaze fell to her parted lips, he groaned inwardly. Too many times he’d thought of what it would be like to kiss her, to feel the strength and softness of her as a woman.

Chuckling, Kathy said, “I promised myself if I made it back, I’d buy you a steak dinner in Cuzco. I’m good for my word.”

“You’re on, then,” Mac said. Dinner with her would be a gift. An unexpected one, that was for sure. He was going to have to figure out how to look but not touch.

“Can you tell me what’s next on my agenda here, Mac? Do I finally get an interview with the
patrón?
Do I find out now if I have the job or not?” What did Mac Coulter want in payment? Those words begged to be asked, but Kathy didn’t go there.

In no time her hair hung free around her shoulders, drying in the sun. Holding the comb and brush in her hands, she assessed his reaction to her questions.

Keeping his voice almost a whisper, Mac said, “My guess is you’ll be debriefed by Therese in a couple of hours, after siesta. Tell her everything except about the knapsack. And don’t say anything about your run-in with the jaguar. If she asks, just say you didn’t see one. Play dumb.”

“Of course,” Kathy said. She saw darkness enter his eyes. He started to scowl as he looked out across the pool.

“I’m sure Therese will give the
patrón
the debrief of your test tonight or tomorrow morning.”

“Then I get to meet him?” Kathy’s stomach knotted and she held the brush more tightly in her hand. Finally,
she’d get to meet the son of the man who had so grievously wounded her family. Would she be able to keep her cool? Not allow her hatred or rage to show? To conduct herself calmly and attentively, so that Garcia would never know her real intentions? So much of what had happened already had thrown her off course, unbalanced her. Kathy knew now, more than ever, that she had to be careful to not blow her cover. Garcia could never suspect her. Not once.

“Well, I think Therese will wait to hear from him. When he says it’s okay, she’ll take you to meet his daughter. Tiki has to approve of you.” Mac glanced over at Kathy, who had a faraway look in her eyes. He wished he could read what was behind those large blue eyes of hers, but he couldn’t.