The Fifth Kingdom (15 page)

Deanna dreamed about Miranda that morning. She hadn’t dreamed about her mother in years. Not since she had given up hope of ever having her back.

But now Miranda had returned. Standing in front of her in a white T-shirt, khakis and vest with pockets bulging with her assorted tools and her ever-present journal.

Miranda’s mouth was open and her hands outstretched, as if she were begging. But her hands were covered in blood and before Deanna’s eyes, her mother fell forward and the large gaping bullet wound in her back became visible.

Deanna knelt beside Miranda and rolled her over, but when she did so it was Bill lying there. Sightless eyes staring up at the sky and the front of his shirt drenched in blood. A long trail of blood seeping from beneath his body.

Deanna bolted upright in bed, her heart pounding and chill sweat pooling in the small of her back.

His gentle touch came quickly. He stroked his hand up and down along her side, attempting to soothe.

“I’m okay. Just a bad dream,” she said and lay down again, snuggling close to his side, but tucking her arms tight to her chest to keep from embracing him, mindful of their discussion of the night before.

Friends and nothing more to keep things balanced during their mission.

She might have been able to honor that promise if he hadn’t turned and wrapped his arms around her. Dipped his head to kiss her forehead. “It’ll be okay, Deanna. I promise.”

She shook her head and whispered, “I saw death, Bill. You. Miranda. Both of you dead.”

Once again he stroked his hand along her side and kissed her temple before meeting her gaze.

There was no uncertainty in his eyes about the mission. About them. So strong was his faith that it drove away the fear the dream had created. So pure was the emotion in his gaze that it caused her heart to skip a beat and demand more.

She laid her hand on his cheek and his morning beard was rough on her palm. She inched up in bed until they were eye-to-eye and brushed her thumb along his lips. Moved toward him until she was so close that the spill of his breath warmed her skin.

“Are you sure?” he asked, grasping her waist with his hand, but it was almost as if he was questioning himself at the same time.

There were so many things about which she’d been uncertain in her life, most of them having to do with her mother. And here was another thing connected to Miranda, but she had no doubts about him or the sincerity of his sentiments.

She closed the final inch of distance and kissed him, filling the kiss with every scintilla of emotion from deep in her core. Wanting him to know just how much he had come to mean to her in the space of a few days.

A rough shudder worked over him with the kiss and he tightened his hold on her, his body rock hard over the tenderness in his heart. His physical strength hiding the hurts of the young boy.

Deanna wanted to acknowledge that pain. Drive it away with the love that had sprung up between them.

She inched her hands beneath his T-shirt and yanked it away. Ran her hand across the immense width of his chest before shifting her head to kiss the stellar scar up on one shoulder. Moving downward to trail light kisses along the knife scar bisecting his torso while she smoothed her palm across his ribs and the scars there.

She followed the line to the ribs, which still bore the purpling mark from the impact of the bullet. Felt his erection pressing upward along her midsection.

Sitting up on her haunches, she trailed her fingers down below his navel and stripped away his pants, exposing the beauty of his lower body. So powerful and masculine that her body responded, her cleft growing wet and quivering in anticipation. But this morning was not about her. It was about him. Showing him how much she cared and treasured the man he was.

With a half glance, she covered the head of his erection and he jumped beneath her hand. “You’re so beautiful,” she said, aware that he had rarely heard such praise in his life.

He raised his hand and cupped her breast, strummed his thumb along the tight peak beneath the fabric. “You’re the one who’s beautiful. I want to see you.”

She paused her caress only long enough to remove her pajamas, revealing herself to him. Then she returned to her ministrations, her caresses slow and tender as she stroked her hands over him. Pleasured him with her actions. She encircled him and reached down, massaged his balls, feeling them harden beneath her hand.

He shifted restlessly and she took advantage of that to straddle him, bend over and kiss the tip of him.

Bill groaned and reached up, cupped both her breasts, playing with the taut peaks as she took him into her mouth. Loved him with the dance of her tongue along the sensitive skin until he was shaking beneath her and the saltiness of his seed came against her lips.

“I need you,” he said and tracked his hands down her sides to grasp her hips.

She placed a last kiss at the tip of him and allowed him to guide her upwards, until she was poised above him.

Her gaze was locked with his when she slowly lowered herself, taking him into her body. Allowing him into her heart as she bent and kissed him. Gave him all of herself, meeting his mouth over and over again until they were both trembling with need that had to be fulfilled.

She sat back up, driving him ever deeper with the action. Then she began to move her hips, riding him. Reaching for her release and his.

Bill fixed his gaze on her face, afraid that if he looked elsewhere, he’d come too quickly. She was so beautiful, so earnest as she moved on him. Her breath growing choppy as she shifted her hips, the wetness and friction of her movements caressing him.

Cradling her breasts, he caressed the hard tips with his fingers, earning a soft mewl of satisfaction. Needing more, he braced one hand on the bed and sat up, took the tip of her breast into his mouth, sucking on it gently.

She dug her hand into the short strands of his hair and held him close, her soft cries urging him onward as he loved her breasts. Along his length he sensed the rise of her need. Her body contracted around his, increasing the friction as she moved on him. Dragging him to the point of release, but he wanted her to go with him.

Bill teethed the tip of her breast. She cried out and held his head closer. With another sharp bite and a long soothing lick, she arched her body as her climax washed over her.

When she called out his name, he rose up and covered her mouth with his, swallowing her cries. Pumping up into her one last time as her satisfaction pulled him over the edge to his own bliss.

They continued kissing for long moments, arms wrapped around each other and bodies joined. Physical satisfaction giving way to comfort and something more.

Love.

He loved her. He didn’t know how it was possible. She had been prickly and demanding at first, although she had revealed another side to him. Intelligent and caring. Impulsive, but steady. She was everything he’d never had and for the first time in his life, he was actually scared before a mission. Afraid because for the first time in his life, he had something to lose.

She must have sensed that in him for she finally moved, soothing her hands along his shoulders. Along the old wounds that no longer mattered. They were part of his past and she was the future.

Using his greater strength, he moved them until they were lying side by side, still joined. Still wrapped together.

Even though it was still dark outside, it would soon be time to get going. The courier from the embassy would be by in the early morning hours. Lopez was picking them up at nine.

But until then, he intended to savor the comfort of her arms and the promise they held for what was yet to come.

The chill of the night had stiffened her body, making every joint ache as she roused at the noise in the hall outside. There were lots of voices and the tromping of boots back and forth along the corridor. More activity than she had heard in a very long time.

Something was clearly up and she wondered what.

Shuffling to the door, she listened, trying to determine what was going on, but all she heard was the movement of people and the occasional clatter of metal on metal.

Weaponry?
she guessed, growing more worried as the sounds continued for some time, hinting at the fact that something major was happening. The one thing that was giving her comfort was that for the moment, she was not involved.

That relief evaporated, however, as she heard someone say her name and booted men loudly approached her door.

She stepped back, preparing for what they intended to do. Wrapping her arms around herself defensively, she tucked her body in the corner into as tight a ball as she could. Imagining that she could somehow grow so small as to disappear.

The door flung open and Javier strode in, flanked by two men once again. A sinister smile lit up his face, sending a shiver through her at his vicious glee.

“What do you want?” she asked, raising her chin at a defiant angle to try and disguise her fear.

“Actually, today is all about what you want, Miranda,” he said and approached. When he stood close, he squatted beside her and cupped her chin, urging her gaze up to meet his. His eyes shined with fanatical light.

“I don’t understand. What do you mean?” she said, concerned about what had the Primera Mexica cell leader so excited.

Javier released her, rose and stepped back beside his men. Standing there arms akimbo, he said, “Today is the day you’re being reunited with your daughter.”

“No, that’s not possible,” she cried, her gut clenching and her blood running cold at his words.

Javier tossed his head back and laughed. “Totally possible, Miranda. And you know what’s even better?”

She didn’t need him to tell her. She knew in her gut that the worst was about to happen. Deanna was going to guide them to the tomb and once she did that, they were both as good as dead.

She didn’t fight when Javier instructed his men to prepare her. She allowed them to push her around and didn’t fight as they gagged her and slipped a blindfold over her eyes.

It would just be a waste of energy and she needed to conserve all that she had for the fight which would come later. Whatever it took, she would make sure that Deanna would survive whatever Javier had planned.

Deanna sat beside Bill in the lobby, holding his hand as they waited for Lopez to arrive. The courier had come and gone that morning and the embassy attaché had confirmed receipt of their prized possessions.
A bit of relief,
she thought as they sat there, anxiously awaiting the PM operative.

Bill tapped their joined hands on their thighs. “Don’t be so nervous. Things will be okay.”

She smiled and tucked close to him, wrapped her free hand around their joined ones. “I am so nervous. What will I say to her after all these years?”

Chuckling, he placed a kiss on her cheek and whispered lovingly, “How about ‘Hello, mom’?”

A burst of nervous laughter escaped her. “That simple?”

He grinned and passed the back of his hand across her cheek. “I know it’s not so simple,
mi amor
. I can’t imagine it myself, but remember…I’ll be there for you.”

“I know,” she said and kissed him, not wanting to waste any opportunity to show him how much she cared.

An awkward cough interrupted the moment, but Bill took his time moving away from her to acknowledge Lopez’s arrival. His apology, when it came, was halfhearted. “So sorry, Dr. Lopez. It’s just that it’s almost like a honeymoon.”

“I can understand, Bill,” Lopez replied and Deanna didn’t much care for the way he eyeballed her. It was way too close to a leer.

Popping off the low-slung sofa, she grabbed the strap of her leather knapsack and held her hand out to Bill. “Ready, love?”

He took hold of her hand and pushed off the couch, grabbed his own knapsack and tucked the strap over his shoulder. “Definitely ready to meet my future mother-in-law.”

“You are a brave man, Bill. Few men I know look forward to their mothers-in-law,” Lopez said with laugh and held his hand out in the direction of the front door to the lobby. “The guide is waiting for us outside in his van.”

Bill nodded and eased his arm around her waist, the gesture so natural it didn’t seem to raise any alarms with Lopez, which at least gave Deanna some hope. Bill was worried that leaks were possible at the embassy, although there was no concrete evidence of it. So far Lopez didn’t seem to doubt their loving relationship, maybe because it was no longer an act.

She loved Bill. Sometime during the course of the last few days and with the tender nights they had spent, she had fallen in love with him. Which made today a scary proposition for multiple reasons.

Deanna was afraid of meeting her mother and possibly revealing the secret that had cost her mother so much.

But she equally feared what might happen to all of them if things turned violent.

Bill must have sensed the tension that had entered her body since he gave her waist a reassuring squeeze and met her gaze, offering up an encouraging smile.

She returned the grin, forcing fear away because it could be too debilitating. She needed to focus on the plan and keep her head during what might be a difficult day.

The van was waiting for them at the curb and Lopez slid open the back door for them. As Deanna climbed in, she noted the assorted pieces of climbing and camping equipment at the far back of the vehicle. The equipment looked well used, making her wonder if Lopez and the guide were just what they said, but then she caught a quick look on Bill’s face.

His features had hardened as the driver had turned. Deanna understood why as something came to her from the various notes they had exchanged—the guide was the younger brother of the head of the local Primera Mexica cell. She recognized the man’s face from the intelligence the embassy attaché had provided.

“Diego Ramirez,” the guide said and offered a handshake.

“Bill Gonzalez,” Bill said in introduction, using his alias. Gonzalez in Spanish was like Smith in English, making it that much more difficult for someone to track him down via that assumed name.

“Deanna Vasquez,” she said as she shook the man’s hand, then settled back onto the bench seat beside Bill.

From his place up front, Lopez asked, “So where are we going today?”

Deanna gave him the name of the small town at the edge of the large hillside range where her mother believed Montezuma’s burial spot was located. “I understand it’s about a two-hour ride from here to the town. Then it’s another hour or so on foot from the town to Miranda’s base camp.”

“An hour or two without traffic,
Doctora
. Hopefully we won’t have too much congestion,” Lopez said and buckled up as the driver pulled away from the hotel.

The guide turned the van onto the busy Paseo de la Reforma on their way to one of the many roadways passing through the sprawling city. But with nearly twenty million inhabitants, many on their way to work, the traffic was stop-and-go along the street and not much better on the highway.

During their trek through the city limits, Lopez identified various sites of interest, explaining about their historic significance. Acting as any tour guide would under the circumstances. “This area is part of the outer edges of the UNESCO World Heritage site because of the many historic structures in the city center.”

“All Aztec?” Bill asked, playing the role of the curious tourist.

“Some Aztec. The Spanish destroyed the Templo Mayor and other structures in the early 1500s, but an assortment of earthquakes and excavations have revealed them beneath the colonial buildings the Spanish erected,” Deanna explained.

Bill nodded and listened while Lopez provided information, but once traffic opened up on the roadway, silence took hold. Beside him Deanna slowly dropped off to sleep, lulled by the motion of the van and the quiet.

He remained alert, keeping his eyes open for anything unusual. Slightly uneasy as he saw Lopez pull out his smartphone and tap out a message to someone. Bill had little doubt that Lopez was providing the name of the town to which they were headed. If the PM cell’s hideout was located anywhere within the limits of Mexico City, they would need to be on the move with Miranda as well in order to meet them at that spot.

At least they had that one advantage as Bill had already arranged for his people to be in the area and ready to move out to the disguised location of Miranda’s camp. Just in case, he had also inserted GPS devices into the straps of both his and Deanna’s knapsacks. If anything happened to the rendezvous they had planned with his men and local law enforcement, the intelligence attaché and remainder of the team would hopefully be able to track them.

Half closing his eyes, he faked that he was asleep as well. Lopez peered back at them regularly and texted some more, making Bill wonder just what PM had planned for their meeting with Miranda.

Miranda,
he thought. He hoped he was not wrong to assume that she was still alive. Despite Deanna’s concerns about being reunited with her mother, he sensed it was something that she had to do in order to move onto the next stage of her life.

And what about you?
his inner voice challenged. In all the years that he had been working for the CIA, he had never used those resources to discover more about what had happened to his parents. They were part of a painful past and had no place in his future. Or at least that’s what he had told himself for years. Seeing the mirror of his own pain in Deanna had made him wonder about his parents in the last few days. Whether they were dead or alive. What his mother, who had always tried to protect him from his father’s rages, looked like now if she was still alive.

Driving his thoughts back to the mission because if it was unsuccessful there would be no future, he ran through all the possible scenarios for what might happen in the next few hours. Preparing himself mentally for how to protect Deanna and her mother.

When the van jerked to a halt barely an hour after they cleared the worst of the Mexico City traffic, Deanna was startled from sleep.

“We’re here, but it’s almost lunchtime. Will it be much longer to the location of the camp?” Lopez asked.

“It’s about three miles or so from here. About an hour on foot along a hillside trail,” Deanna said.

Turning in his seat, Diego said, “Which one? There are many dangerous footpaths through this area and I’d like to have the right equipment for the hike.”

“Why don’t you show them the map?” Bill prompted as planned.

With a nod, Deanna reached down and opened her leather pack. She removed the map they had doctored with the false location. She spread it wide on her lap and traced the trail they would take with her index finger.

“May I?” Lopez queried and at her nod, took the map from her and shared it with Diego. The two men spoke lowly and in Spanish, their words quick and clipped, making it impossible for Bill to clearly hear what was being said.

But with a sharp nod, Lopez folded the map back up and returned it to Deanna.

“Diego will need to pack a few things for this trail, but before that, what if we grab a bite? It took some time to get here and it is lunchtime,” Lopez stressed again and glanced at his watch to emphasize the point.

Bill quickly looked at his watch, appreciating that with the traffic the trip had taken well over three hours. The grumble of Deanna’s stomach beside him confirmed that a meal might be good. But Lopez might also be stalling to delay them. “Actually, I’m not all that hungry at the moment. What if we get something to go?” he said and thankfully Deanna picked up on his vibes.

“That’s a great idea. I’m sure my mother would appreciate something other than camp rations for a change,” Deanna suggested.

The two men in the front shared uneasy glances, but then Lopez nodded. “There is a restaurant about a mile from here that is just meters from the mouth of the trail we must take. We can bring the food with us.”

He wagged his finger in the driver’s face, pointing out the general direction of the restaurant. It took only a few minutes to reach it and after they had parked and exited the vehicle, Bill lingered by the back door, slightly hunched over.

“Are you okay?” Deanna asked, laying a hand along his arm. Concern obvious on her face.

“Just a cramp from sitting. I just need to stretch. Why not go with Dr. Lopez and order while I do that?” he said and once again, she was quick to understand that he needed time away from Lopez’s scrutiny.

As Lopez and Deanna walked over to the counter of the roadside cantina, the driver leaned against the fender of the van and took out a cigarette. Lit it and then sucked in a deep pull of smoke that he released in a long stream. He offered Bill another cigarette from the pack, but Bill declined.

Instead he stretched slowly, watching for signs of activity along the roadway or on the nearby streets. As he paced a step or two while still stretching, he finally saw an encouraging sign—a 4x4 vehicle with about half a dozen Mexican soldiers and one of his men in the passenger seat. The vehicle was a block away on a side street and turned away from where he stood, but not before he had a brief moment of eye contact with his man.