Enemy Mine (18 page)

“What if she’s undercover and working for another drug lord? Worming her way into Garcia’s organization to bring him down?” he asked.

“That is possible,” Rosalia said, sipping her espresso. “And that would explain why none of the Canadian or American agencies know of her.”

“They are running a background check on her, aren’t they?”

“
Sí,
as we speak. I won’t have that info for you for another week or two, though. You know how slow they work on things like this. It is not considered a priority.”

Yeah, he knew. This wasn’t a class A emergency. “I’ll be lucky to hear on it in a month’s time,” he griped.

Chuckling, she patted his hand. “Has she threatened you,
amigo?
”

“No.”
Just the opposite.
Mac couldn’t sit here and spill out his guts—and heart—to Rosalia, although that’s exactly what he wanted to do. She had been a very good handler for him—sympathetic, a good listener, astute. She had been in the spy business for over a decade and he trusted this diminutive woman with his life.

“There are other things we must discuss, Mac,” she told him, looking around to make sure no waiters were near enough to overhear them. “There’s a lot of pressure building on Garcia. You may not see it or be aware of it, but we have moles in several other drug cartels and the word is going out.”

“Going out? On Garcia?”

“Yes. You know of Javier Rojas in Sacred Valley. The little guy who’s muscled his way into the big leagues?”

“Yeah, he’s a royal bastard, too.”

“No argument from me.” She bowed her head, her lips barely moving. “Arturo Molinos from Ecuador is Garcia’s main enemy. Standing in line right behind him is Manuel Navarro from the Colombian cartel. We hear rumblings that either of these men may attack Garcia in the near future.”

Lifting his brows, Mac asked, “Attack?” Panic struck him. He had been in one drug war shortly after joining Garcia’s forces, as his personal helicopter pilot. Last time, it had been Molinos who had sent in two loads of mercenaries, dropping them by helicopter on Garcia’s estate in northern Peru. Blood had flowed. Mac had saved Garcia’s family from harm by thinking fast, getting them into their own helo and lifting off—just in time.

“Listen, we know that Navarro has four Russian Ka-50 Black Shark combat helicopters.”

“The Black Jaguar Squadron, that U.S. Army black ops outfit fifty miles from Machu Picchu, has run into them,” Mac agreed. “But I thought that Garcia had leased those Ka-50s from Navarro.” The Black Shark helicopter was a one-man lethal machine with the capability of firing off rockets, missiles and cannon ordnance just like the Apache. But the Black Shark had one up on the American-built aircraft: its telltale heat signature was invisible to the Apache’s sophisticated sensors. One could sneak up on an Apache without the crew ever knowing it was there—until it was too late. No, Mac was well aware of the capabilities of the Black Shark. Plus, Navarro paid Russian pilots to fly them, and those men, hardened veterans of the Chechnya war, could wreak hell on earth in a matter of seconds.

In fact, one or two Black Sharks could level any one of Garcia’s compounds in a matter of fifteen minutes. This combat helicopter took no prisoners. And it had state-of-the-art look down–shoot down capability. It even had infrared that allowed the pilot to spot a human heat signature anywhere—jungle, villa, it didn’t matter
where the person was hiding. Once spotted, a target could be killed quickly with the Black Shark’s amazing arsenal.

“
Sí,
that is correct,
compadre.
Garcia has leased them from Navarro. But who says that Navarro, instead of delivering them peacefully, can’t order those Russian mercenaries to fly to Garcia’s villa and wipe him and his family in one attack?”

Mac knew that could happen. Drug lords pretended to be the best of friends, but were enemies at heart. “So, Garcia’s vulnerable?”

“
Sí,
because of the Black Jaguar Squadron continuing to stop his flights of coke out of the country. He’s not getting the job done, so that leaves him vulnerable. We hear rumblings that Navarro wants to blow Garcia away and take over his territory. Get those cocaine flights out of here and into Bolivian airspace, where the Black Jaguar Squadron does not have permission to fly.”

Mac rolled his eyes. “And I came down here to talk to you about a possible agent working as a nanny.”

Fuentes smiled, but it was strained. “You have many challenges on this mission. And I know you want to rescue that little American girl, Sophie, and get her out of there. I wish I had more promising news,
amigo,
but my hands are tied. I tried to talk to the head of the ATF, but he didn’t take my call.”

“Thanks for continuing to try,” Mac said heavily. “I haven’t found a way to spring her without blowing my cover. And dammit, I want to. It’s just such a precarious situation, and now, with the possibility of Navarro bringing in Black Sharks to waste Garcia…”

“
Sí, sí,
I understand.” Shaking her head, Rosalia whispered, “That is so sad. I feel so deeply for the parents of this little girl. They do not know anything, where she is or if she is even alive. We cannot contact them because if we do, and word gets out, Garcia might kill her. And he would also know there’s a spy in his midst. You.”

Mac felt frustrated. “The only good thing there is Katherine Lincoln. She’s taken Sophie under her wing and the little girl is coping a lot better.”

“That is good. That is what a nanny does best,” Rosalia stated.

“You think she really is a nanny, and I’m just spooked?”

“
Sí, amigo.
She does not fit the profile of an agent. No one knows of her. I think she simply does not like the idea of Garcia being a drug lord. I am sure that came as a shock to her. Perhaps it rides rough on her conscience, eh?”

“Then why would she hang around?” Mac demanded, opening his hands. “
That
is what doesn’t make sense in this equation.”

Giving a slight shrug, Rosalia finished her espresso and set the cup back on the saucer. “Money. Garcia is paying her well. Perhaps she has a sick parent who needs much money for medical help. Many people take jobs they don’t like because the pay is good.”

Shaking his head, Mac said, “Hell, she refused to take his cash. She was okay spending it on the kids at the orphanage, though.”

Rosalia smiled brightly. “Well! She is a woman with a golden heart then,
compadre.
Perhaps you like her, eh?
Every time you speak her name, your voice changes ever so slightly. Did you know that?”

Glumly, Mac finished his espresso. “I don’t want to hear that, Rosalia.” She chuckled indulgently and he smarted beneath the scrutiny of her knowing eyes. Kathy’s kiss…She’d tasted so good to him, been so warm, open, inviting. And then he wondered if her kiss, her unexpected advance, had been in fact a deliberate distraction for her spontaneous words. It hurt him to think that, but Mac couldn’t afford to be naive.

“Listen,” Rosalia counseled him, patting his arm as if he were a little boy, “you have other priorities right now. Navarro, we believe, is on the hunt. Our agent isn’t so close that he knows when, but the word is circulating among his soldiers to get ready for some action. Everyone at our agency firmly believes that Navarro will attack Garcia. Soon. So you must stay on guard, my friend. Try to maintain your cover, but do not get killed, okay?”

Nodding, Mac turned his thoughts to Kathy once again. If hell happened, he wanted to be there to get her and Sophie to safety. But he was gone so much of the time. Could he warn her?

Should he?

K
ATHY COULDN’T DO IT
. She just couldn’t kidnap Tiki after all…. Standing restively at the barred window of her bedroom, staring out across the dark, silent jungle, she folded her arms across her chest. She was exhausted and hadn’t been able to sleep since coming back from Cuzco with Mac. The last week had been a special hell as far as she was concerned.

Garcia had had a surprise waiting for her and Tiki when Mac brought her back the next day: horses! A shetland palomino and two beautiful Andalusians. Because of Tiki’s love of horses, Kathy had approached Therese about buying the child a small pony. Kathy thought it would be fun to take the little girl on rides along the wide, well-trodden paths around the compound. Down the slope and beyond the gate of the walled complex was a wonderful meadow, about a mile away and a thousand feet below the villa. It would be a perfect place to teach Tiki some basic riding habits.

Garcia hadn’t just purchased a pony. With typical extravagance, he’d procured the Andalusians as well, so that adults could ride with her.

Carlos had had his little girl in his arms as he proudly
walked her to the rear of the villa, where he’d had a new corral built overnight. The Andalusians, one white and one a dappled gray, were an expensive breed brought directly from Spain. Tiki loved her new Shetland palomino, which was one-third the size of the powerful, well-muscled Andalusians.

Kathy had been delighted by Garcia’s gesture. Tiki had wriggled out of her father’s arms so that she could pet her new pony. A stable hand stood nearby to supervise. After witnessing his daughter’s joy, Garcia had profusely thanked Kathy for her influence and ideas regarding Tiki. When he’d turned to her, Kathy saw that his eyes were glazed with tears. His display of emotion had shocked her and confirmed once again that the murdering drug lord had a heart.

“Dammit…” she’d muttered softly as Garcia went to his daughter’s side. The look on Tiki’s shining face as she sat on the patient pony was one Kathy would never forget. The whole scene broke her heart—Garcia as a proud parent, tears glimmering in his eyes, his hands gentle and protective around his daughter’s tiny waist as she sat there on the pony, all smiles.

How could Kathy kidnap Tiki?
How?
She would have to permanently wound Tiki in order to get even with Garcia. This was no surgical strike, that was for sure. In this plan everyone got hurt and no one walked away unscathed. Kathy couldn’t bring herself to hurt Tiki to get even with her father. No innocent child should suffer that way.

Hurt, anger and the desire to get even with Garcia warred with the knowledge that what she had planned was wrong. Kathy’s stomach knotted even more. The
need for revenge had eroded away during the months she’d spent with the little girl. No, she would not lower herself to the drug lord’s level by taking Tiki. Her family had raised her to be better than that.

And then, hell, there was that kiss with Mac Coulter. He curled her toes and made her go weak at the knees. Mac was the man of her dreams and she’d thought she’d never meet anyone like him. Yet there he was. And she’d been in his arms, with his mouth caressing her lips, his hands grazing her body as if she was a priceless gift to him. At the orphanage, in his work with the nuns and the way the children loved him, he’d shown himself to be a decent and loving man. Whether she wanted to admit it or not, Mac Coulter had somehow stolen her heart. But of course, it just wouldn’t work. No way in hell could she fall in love with a drug dealer!

She was learning the hard lesson that nothing was as it seemed. There were no clear black-and-white situations anymore, but rather varying shades of gray. Rubbing her eyes with her hands, Kathy turned and bleakly shuffled back to her queen-size bed. The covers were tangled from her restless tossing and turning. She sat down, closed her eyes and gripped her hands together between her thighs, the coolness of her soft silk nightgown brushing against them.

To add salt to her wounds, Garcia had said he was very moved that she’d spent the money he’d given her not on herself, but on the poor. He’d informed her that every month he would see that the orphanage was supplied with whatever it needed, because she had been so thoughtful and generous.

So much for him being a bad guy.

Dammit, he was! A murdering bastard from a line of murdering bastards! Hands tightening, Kathy tried to deal with the inner clash of right and wrong. For months she’d fought the feeling that kidnapping Tiki would be morally wrong. Who then was going to make Garcia pay? His family deserved to be hurt just as much as he had hurt hers. Grinding her teeth with frustration, Kathy opened her eyes and lifted her head.

At that moment the moon rose above the jungle canopy. The silvery beams flowed brightly into her room and across her body. Kathy wasn’t one for magical happenings, nor did she believe in miracles. But as the light silently touched her, she suddenly knew what she had to do. Maybe there was another way to even the score with Garcia other than making his innocent daughter pay the price.

Kathy’s mind raced wildly. She knew that Therese’s computer held all the information on the drug movements—the names of street dealers all over the world, the middle men who distributed, the drug lords Garcia consorted with globally. Therese already gave her daily access to the desktop computer. They were due for a software upgrade this week, one Kathy would be installing. Could she use that time to continue hunting for the password? She knew where the file was. And she knew now that Therese hated computers and she didn’t try very hard to learn the more intricate operations. All Kathy needed was the password and she could open that file, make a copy of it and then leave.

Yeah, she had to leave, that was for sure. But not without little Sophie in tow. That was the other epiph
any: she’d decided to turn mud into mud pies. Don’t kidnap innocent little Tiki, but steal back Sophie, blow this joint and get the child to her home in Lima. Kathy knew Sophie’s parents were aching from her loss. Kathy had seen what it had done to her own parents to have Jason kidnapped.

Yes, this was a better plan. Steal the information from the computer and then work out an escape route for Sophie and herself. That seemed daunting to Kathy. Stealing the computer file was nothing in comparison to an escape. There were only two reliable ways to get out of Agua Caliente: by train or helicopter. Even if she made it to Cuzco, she knew Garcia would be alerted, and he had a lot of men there who would cover the airport, which was the only way practical to get out of the Andean city and back down to Lima. No, it was a terrifying task, and Kathy knew she had to plan very carefully or her life would be forfeit.

First she had to sleep, so she’d be rested. Lying down, Kathy was glad for the overhead fan that moved the sluggish, heavy air around in the room. Even though the window was open, it was still muggy. As she closed her eyes she heard the far-off sound of thunder rumbling. That was the one thing she loved about the jungle—dramatic thunderstorms that would roll across the area at any time, day or night.

With that last thought, Kathy fell asleep deeply for the first time since she’d arrived at the villa.

M
AC
C
OULTER COULDN’T HELP
but chuckle as he stood at the gate. Inside the corral, Kathy led Tiki around on
her pony, Harry Potter, named after the famous child magician. Sophie sat on the white Andalusian gelding called General. The little girl had a small smile on her face, which warmed his heart. Kathy had the reins from each horse in her hands as she led them around the large corral at a sedate walk. The early morning air was cool, with gray clouds hanging, as usual, about a thousand feet above the jungle canopy. Resting his arms on the top rail, Mac grinned as Kathy rounded the corral and spotted him.

“Looks like fun,” he called. He saw her eyes narrow slightly. Was something wrong? Mac hadn’t seen her in a week, since returning from Cuzco. Not that he didn’t want to see her after that life-altering kiss, but Garcia kept him plenty busy flying the chopper.

Tiki waved gaily. “Look! I’m riding, Señor Coulter!”

“So you are,” Mac laughed. “You look like a real cow-girl, Tiki.” And she did. Garcia had bought her a cowboy hat, a set of bright red leather chaps and black boots. The little girl laughed and waved one hand, while she gripped the horn of the western saddle with the other.

Mac shifted his gaze to the white gelding Kathy led. Sophie seemed happy—or as happy as she could be under the circumstances. He could tell she loved this outing. His gaze moved back to Kathy, who smiled at him. She brought the horses to a stop where he stood.

“You ride much?” she asked. Kathy had seen so little of Mac since their heated kiss. She ached for him. For his company. As she searched his twinkling gray eyes, she found herself snared by his maleness, no matter if he was a drug dealer or not. It was a bittersweet moment.

“Me? Yeah, I’ve thrown a leg over a horse now and then. Why?”

“Well, I need a riding partner for about an hour. Interested?

Grinning, Mac shrugged. “Sure.” Any time spent with Kathy was valuable. He met her clear blue eyes and felt helpless. Her smile reached her eyes, and that made him feel good and strong as a man. “What’s the plan?”

“Well, these two ladies are doing so well that I thought I’d ride General, the white Andalusian here, and put Tiki’s pony on a longe line so that she could walk next to me. I’d like to ride down to the meadow below the villa here. But I need help. If you could ride the gray Andalusian, Hector, with Sophie behind you on the saddle, we could go. What do you think? Are you game?”

Any time spent with you is worth it.
Mac didn’t say the words. He climbed between the wooden rails. “Sure. Is Hector saddled?”

“No, but the tack is in the room next to his box stall.” Kathy didn’t want to watch Mac as he moved, but she did, anyway. He had on a pair of jeans this morning, his tennis shoes and a form-fitting polo shirt of navy blue that outlined his magnificent chest and proud shoulders. Trying not to remember how her hands had explored his body, or the pulverizing kiss he’d given her, she managed a twisted smile. “This will take an hour. Do you have it to spare?” She knew he was doing a lot more flying of late. Something must be up with Garcia’s drug ties, but she didn’t know what.

“Sure. I’ve got a flight in two hours, no prob,” Mac called over his shoulder, heading across the deep sand
of the arena to the tack room. “You get the girls ready and I’ll be out to meet you in no time at all.”

So, he was a cowboy, too. Was there anything Mac didn’t do well? Kathy wondered as she opened the gate and led the horses out, with her charges on them. She tinkered with the girth on Tiki’s saddle and made sure the little girl traded in her cowboy hat for a safety helmet. She handed one up to Sophie and asked her to put it on.

The morning was brisk, the sky still gray, and birds were singing in the jungle. Kathy stood between the horses, waiting patiently for Mac to reappear. She loved to ride and this was a chance to get away from the villa and nose around. The outing for the girls was a good excuse to scout the surrounding terrain to see if there was an escape route for her and Sophie later on.

Mac Coulter reappeared astride Hector, and rode as if he’d been married to the horse forever. Sitting straight and tall, one hand on the reins, he pulled a baseball cap from his back pocket and settled it on his head. Hector was sixteen hands tall, a gunmetal-gray color with silvery dapples across his body. The horse had a lot of fire and spirit, which was why Kathy wouldn’t allow Sophie to ride him. The gelding was a handful and not for a beginning rider. Beneath Mac’s capable hands, however, the horse was collected, lifting his feet high as he danced toward them, and arching his neck.

“Do I look like a knight in shining armor?” Mac teased as he guided Hector up to them. He saw Kathy grin sourly. “Well, maybe a knight without armor?” he added.

Laughing softly, Kathy tied General’s reins around the railing and then lifted Sophie out of the saddle. “I sup
pose you want me to call you Sir Coulter?” She carried the girl over to Mac, who leaned down and settled Sophie behind him. Kathy watched him make sure that she was comfortable, her legs situated properly across Hector’s broad back and her arms around Mac’s narrow waist.

He looked across his shoulder at Sophie. “You okay back there, honey? You can hold on to me so that you don’t fall off. Hector seems a little frisky today.”

Sophie looked up and said, “I’m fine, Mr. Coulter. I rode every day at home. I have my own horse, Jelly Bean. Before that I always rode with my dad on his horse, and I’d sit like this behind him.”

The sadness in her shadowed eyes tore at Mac. He kept the smile pasted on his face, but he felt like crying for the child. “Sophie, we’re good to go, then. And you can call me Mac, okay? All my friends do.”

“Okay, Mr. Mac.”

Chuckling, Mac looked over to see Kathy mounting the smaller gelding, General. She did it like a pro and was obviously no stranger to the saddle. Her jeans and white cotton blouse showed off her body to advantage. And he couldn’t stop admiring the glow in her expression. She was beautiful to him.

Tiki shrieked with delight as she steered her pony alongside General. The movement brought Mac’s thoughts back to earth.

“I think we’re ready, Sir Mac,” Kathy called to him.

Grinning, he said, “I’ll lead the way, my ladies.” He turned the eager Hector toward the rear gate. The two guards stationed there quickly opened it so they could ride through.

As they left the villa behind, Kathy began to feel lighter and lighter. Mac had his hands full with Hector, who was dancing, his legs lifting high as they went down the gently sloping trail. Sophie rode behind him like a pro, her face alight with joy. Tiki was all smiles, her hands clinging to the saddle horn. Fortunately, General was a quiet horse in comparison to the hot-blooded Hector. Mac was a damn good rider. And Sophie, bless her heart, seemed to be enjoying Hector’s dancing antics. Yes, it was turning out to be a wonderful morning in the most unexpected of ways.