Last Spy Standing Page 4

  She was hunting terrorist connections abroad. A CIA spook then. He should have guessed. She’d ruled out the CIA for him first, because that was her outfit and if he was with them, she would have known it.

  He was beginning to understand her better now. She was trusted at Juarez’s camp, but not enough for Juarez to include her in his personal retinue. Except, if she did something his other men couldn’t accomplish, like bringing back the kid who’d killed his brother-in-law…

  Her plan wasn’t bad. She was working on an important mission. But his orders weren’t to accommodate other important missions he came across. He only had one order from the Colonel: to bring the governor’s son back.

  “I’m sorry,” he said, and he meant it. “You’ll find another way.”

  But instead of accepting defeat, she shot at his foot, apparently not done with this way yet. A miracle that she hadn’t maimed him. He had no choice but to shoot the gun out of her hand. He did just that, then lunged forward, and they went rolling on the ground again.

  “This doesn’t feel like progress.” She had the presence of mind to joke with him, even though her hand must have smarted.

  It might not have felt like progress, but it sure felt like one hundred percent pure, curvy female to Mitch. He wouldn’t have minded the prolonged body contact so much if the ground wasn’t full of danger. He couldn’t afford to get injured, and he didn’t want her hurt, either.

  “Could we have a civilized discussion about this?” he suggested between a flip and a roll.

  “Worried that you can’t win by sheer force alone?” She grunted and heaved.

  “Stop.” He pinned her down at last. “You roll into a sharp branch and your mission goes nowhere.”

  She gave it another try before she stilled. “Fine. A civilized conversation it is. In the morning.” She blew out a breath. “So you’re an extractor.”

  “The extractor. When someone needs a target removed unseen from an impossible situation, I’m the go-to guy.” She might as well know that he wasn’t going to give up or give in to her.

  “Do you always get them?”

  “Always.” He didn’t compromise.

  “It’s that important to you. Interesting.” She gave him a calculating look. “I’m guessing you lost someone close to you at one point?”

  A discussion they weren’t going to have. He moved back slowly and let her go, then offered her a hand.

  She sprang up on her own and dusted off her clothes. “Just for the record, you called truce first.”

  She sauntered off toward her makeshift camp without looking back at him. Unfortunately, not enough moonlight filtered through the canopy for him to fully enjoy that tempting image.

  “Take a picture. It’ll last longer,” she called over her shoulder.

  She must have attended some CIA training on how to be thoroughly irritating. But if she thought she was going to be the last spy standing here, she was sadly mistaken.

  He headed after her, hoping Zak hadn’t done anything stupid like untying himself and running off into the jungle. They’d had enough excitement for one night.

  As luck would have it, the kid was where they’d left him. Mitch checked his restraints and, despite loud demands, left them in place.

  “Up,” he ordered next, nudging Megan onto the platform and tying her wrist to the other end the same way she’d tied up Zak. Then he lay between them, snug, his gun resting on his chest, finger on the trigger.

  He didn’t like the idea of the other two guns, plus the machete, scattered out there, but he’d have to wait for daylight to look for them and secure them.

  “You can’t be serious about this.” Megan snarled the words at him.

  He settled into the uncomfortable bed. “Try to get some rest.”

  “There’s not enough room,” Zak grumbled. “Untie me now. You can’t treat me like this. I’m the victim here.”

  “I could knock you out, if you prefer,” he offered.

  “You can’t touch me. You’re getting paid to save me.”

  “This is cozy. Think of us as one big happy family,” he told the kid.

  Megan turned to her side, jabbing him viciously in the side with her elbow in the process, probably not by accident.

  He let it go. Couldn’t be mad at her when they were pressed against each other full-length. She smelled like the rain forest and the cheap soap they’d all used at the guesthouse. Not a combination that would turn the average man’s head, but for some reason it got under his skin.

  He shook off the tension that had pushed him forward since she’d left him tied to the sink. Then he grinned into the night as the breeze moved her hair and it tickled his chin. At least, chances were, he was going to have pretty good dreams.

  An honest to goodness spook, looking like a teenage video gamer’s dream come true. Thank God for small favors. When he’d thought she was a lost suburban housewife, he didn’t know what to do with her. When he’d thought she was a heartless criminal, one of Juarez’s lackeys, he didn’t want anything to do with her. But now that it turned out that they were almost on the same side… Their chance encounter suddenly brimmed with possibilities.

  For after.

  When they were both done with their missions and back in the U.S., he wouldn’t mind asking her out for a drink. He was ready to sink deeper into that fantasy when he heard something moving in the jungle, circling their small camp.

  Megan heard it, too. She went instantly rigid.

  So much for a good night’s sleep.

  “Give me your gun,” she whispered under her breath.

  Not going to happen. But he did reach up and untie her wrist. He had firsthand experience with the kind of damage she could inflict even unarmed. If they were attacked, she would be far from helpless. That was all he could do for her. He didn’t trust her enough to arm her, at least not until he knew what kind of danger they faced.

  He listened.

  Four men. He used military hand signals to pass on the news.

  She nodded and pointed west.

  He slipped from the makeshift bamboo bed, pulled back into the jungle just as the four shadows snuck into the clearing opposite them. They moved forward, then one of them signaled to the others to stop.

  Mitch was ready to open fire at the first sign of aggression. He could take them out in a second.

  “Is that you, chica? What are you doing here?” the one in the front asked with a voice raspy from too many cigarettes.

  “Dammit, Paolo.” She swore an impressive blue streak in Spanish. “Ever heard of giving warning? I almost shot you.”

  Megan jumped off the bed, brazen as anything, pretending to shove her nonexistent gun into the waistband at her back. And as dark as the night was, it seemed she managed to fool the others, because nobody called her on it.

  If he weren’t careful, he was going to start admiring her or something stupid like that, Mitch thought.

  “I’m taking Juarez’s young friend back to him,” she told the men, tossing wood on the fire, looking around surreptitiously.

  Paolo checked out the sleeping platform behind her. “We’ve been looking for the bastard all day. We made camp east of here a couple of hours ago. Upwind, or we would have smelled your fire. Heard the shots, though. Figured we better investigate.” He knocked Zak to the ground and took his place.

  The kid had to stay where he fell, with the ankle restraint still tethering him to the platform. He couldn’t do much more than squat and look scared.

  Paolo patted the bed next to him and flashed a grin at Megan. “How about you come back to bed?”

  Mitch took a silent step forward. He wasn’t quite out of cover, but he was close enough to take swift action if needed.

  “How about you give up? As I said before, I don’t mix business and pleasure.”

  “Give it a try, I promise you’ll like it.” Paolo’s tone took on a menacing edge. There were four of them, and one of her. He probably knew that she, too, would hav
e the odds figured. “Come on.”

  Mitch stepped into the clearing, not bothering with stealth. He wanted them to see him.

  Immediately, four guns pointed at his chest. Four pairs of hard eyes said they wouldn’t hesitate to pull the trigger.

  “Friends of yours?” he asked Megan as if he’d just gotten back from a bathroom break.

  “Who the hell is he?” Paolo came off the bed.

  “An old friend.” Megan stepped closer to Mitch. “I knew he was in the area so I called him in for help.”

  “The boss don’t like strangers in his business,” Paolo warned her, then turned to Mitch. “Who do you work for?”

  “Whoever pays best. Right now, I’m protecting a logging operation north of here.” All logging in the area was illegal, so that should give him the right credentials. “Gun for hire, soldier of fortune, that kind of thing,” he added.

  “Which timber boss?” Paolo wanted to know.

  Mitch kept his demeanor friendly and his hand close to the weapon tucked into his waistband. “He doesn’t like his name passed around.”

  Tense silence stretched between them.

  But when Paolo lowered his gun, so did the others. “Forget logging. You’ll come with us. I know a man who pays well and needs some extra muscle.”

  And just like that, his chances of getting Zak out of the country swiftly and unnoticed dimmed. Sure, he’d taken on four men in a gunfight before. When he’d been on his own. But if all hell broke loose now, in the dark, Zak or Megan could get killed, and he wasn’t going to take that chance.

  Under the smile on his face, his jaw clenched. Instead of taking Zak to safety, he was going to have to stand by as the men took the kid back to the lion’s den.

  Megan could have been helpful, but damned if he knew whether he could count on her. She seemed determined to care only about her own mission and nothing else. He had hoped to convince her once morning came, but they weren’t likely to get time alone for that now.

  And the balance of power had shifted anyway. The men had played right into her hand.

  Regardless, he would get Zak home. With or without her, he thought as he surveyed the drug lord’s lackeys for weaknesses. He never left a mission incomplete.

  Chapter Four

  By the time morning came, Mitch had a plan. He’d thought about it all night long as he’d slept in spurts squatting by the fire. He could take the men out during their long trek. Getting another look at Juarez’s compound might have provided new intelligence he could pass on to the Colonel, but Megan had already seen the place and had probably passed on all kinds of intel to the CIA. They could deal with Juarez.

  His job was to deal with the kid. Which meant he would have to take out Paolo and the others, then turn around and continue north with Zak. He’d call in for military transport the second he could make connection.

  Megan Cassidy was welcome to do whatever she pleased. As long as she didn’t stand in his way.

  They marched forward silently, in single file. Paolo led the way, with Sanchez, his second in command, behind him. Then came Megan, then Zak, then Mitch, then the other two men.

  Mitch reached into the opening of his shirt and plucked a leech from under his collar, slowing his steps as he disposed of the little bloodsucker. He needed to fall to the back of the line. He didn’t like anyone with a weapon behind him.

  He made a point of scratching a couple of times before stopping altogether and stepping aside. “Damned leeches in my pants.”

  One of the men laughed at him, another winced with sympathy, the rest didn’t bother to respond. Nobody stopped to wait. He messed around with his belt and zipper for a while, until they passed him, then he fell in step behind them.

  Step one completed.

  Yet the setup was far from ideal. Since they were walking single file, he’d have to take out the men in the back first as they blocked sight of the others up front. But if he took out the men in the back, the two in the front would start shooting at him. Which would leave Megan and Zak in the crossfire.

  Not that she was a factor. Megan Cassidy was nothing more to him than the possibility of some carnal fun. His unhelpful fascination with her had to stop before it got him in trouble. She could take care of herself. And yet, on some level, he cared. Not because she was another American; God knew he’d been stabbed in the back more than once by his own countrymen. And definitely not because she was CIA. He’d been caught up in their intrigues before. Their wheeling and dealing had once cost the life of a good friend and nearly his, too.

  He had allegiance to his country, not to its corrupt systems. He took orders only from the Colonel. He was loyal only to his team. He trusted very few people beyond that circle. Friends outside the job were too much of a risk.

  His family thought he was dead. Better that way for everyone. They hadn’t gotten along too well when they’d thought he was alive. This way, his work didn’t put them in danger, and they didn’t get on each other’s nerves.

  He was too busy to be lonely.

  Except, back when he’d thought Megan was a traumatized tourist he was leading out of the jungle, she’d sure made him wish for… He wasn’t sure what, but an empty little spot suddenly opened up in his chest.

  He looked at her as she marched on resolutely and felt a funny kind of tingle on his skin.

  Maybe he was getting jungle fever. That would explain why his thoughts were getting jumbled all of a sudden. He wasn’t the type of man who lost his head, and consequently his life, over a pretty woman.

  He had a small box of emergency medicine in his backpack, antibiotics and malaria pills among them. He’d take some meds when they next stopped, Mitch decided as he marched forward, watching where he stepped, until sharp cries pulled his attention to the canopy.

  Howler monkeys were passing by high above the ground, flashes of gray streaking through the emerald green of the foliage. He watched them for a second before returning his focus to the path in front of him and the four men he had to neutralize before he could complete his mission.

  “Are your wrists okay?” Megan was asking Zak up ahead. Paolo had tied the kid’s hands thoroughly that morning. She checked his skin and reached into her backpack, pulled out a jar and put some kind of a salve on Zak’s wrist.

  The kid’s response was lost in the noise the monkeys made.

  She was a strange one. Taking the kid back to Juarez where he’d be shot, yet worried about the ropes cutting into his wrists. She didn’t seem hard-hearted. But definitely focused. She would do whatever it took to achieve her aim.

  So would he.

  The men looked up at the monkeys. Mitch looked at the men. His best chance would be if one of the two up front stopped for a bathroom break. Both at the same time would be outstanding, but he wouldn’t hold his breath for that. He would take whatever opportunity presented itself.

  His break came sooner than he’d expected. The howlers were crossing right above them. The man in front of him slowed as a shot went off.

  Paolo had decided to go monkey hunting. But he’d only managed to wound the animal, which clung to a branch, emitting a keening sound of pain.

  Mitch took aim and ended the animal’s suffering. Then their line scattered at last, Paolo going for the monkey, taking charge of it, even though it hadn’t been his kill. “Let’s eat!” Others moved off into the jungle to gather wood for a fire. Mitch used the distraction to get closer to Megan.

  “Are you with me?” He kept his voice below a whisper. He felt better just standing next to her. Didn’t understand why. He barely knew her. She’d scammed him.

  A lock of hair had escaped her ponytail and curled against the scar on her neck. His fingers itched to tuck that lock behind her ear. He didn’t.

  He watched regret come into her eyes as she said, “I can’t. Not in this.”

  So she wouldn’t fight to help him. But would she fight against him? Or would she stay out of it all together? He didn’t have a chance to ask.

>   “Hey, gringo,” Paolo called him over, working at skinning the monkey. “Look at this. Big sucker, eh?” He puffed his chest out. “What do you think?”

  “I think we’re about to have some lunch.” He faked an enthusiastic grin.

  Twenty minutes later, the fire crackled under the roasting meat. When it was done, Paolo divided it and handed out the portions. Mitch ate in silence, filling his stomach for the first time in two days. Now if he could only get some decent sleep. As soon as he and Zak could make their escape and get far enough away from Juarez, they were going to take a serious break.

  From the corner of his eye, he caught Megan sneaking off into the woods. Probably for a bathroom break. The men had taken theirs as they’d walked, barely bothering to step off the path before aiming at the nearest tree.

  Mitch gobbled up the rest of his portion, noting the position of every man, the whereabouts of every weapon. Now was his chance. He could take them without having to worry about Megan. He reached for his gun, ready to yell at Zak to duck.

  If he weren’t watching the men so closely, he wouldn’t have caught the exchanged look between Paolo and Sanchez. A second later, Paolo melted into the jungle following the path Megan had disappeared down a minute ago.

  “All right.” Sanchez stood. “Better get going.”

  The others washed down their food with some water then picked up their backpacks and fell in line. One yanked Zak onto his feet. The kid shot a plaintive look at Mitch, but he was more concerned about why Paolo had taken off after Megan.

  He made sure he was the last to head out, bringing up the rear. Then he silently fell behind without anyone noticing. They were slowed by the heat and humidity as much as their full bellies. Catching up with them again wouldn’t be too difficult. Their job was to bring Zak back to Juarez, so unless the kid did something stupid, he’d be safe for the moment.

  In five minutes, Mitch had returned to the remains of their abandoned fire, drops of water sizzling on the coals as rain began to fall. He moved forward in the direction Megan and Paolo had taken.