Master of the Game (Rush Series Book 3) (3 page)

In all
of her life, she’d never doubted her parent’s love for each other. Her mother
had given up the life she’d known in the United States to live in Mexico with
her father. At the time, her mother hadn’t spoken a word of Spanish and as an
Anglo had been subjected to merciless jabs and insults. But she’d refused to
give up Antonio Montanez,
the love of my
life
,
she’d told
Devon numerous times.
He was my heart, he
was my life
, she’d said. Did those supposed feelings die right along with
his body?

Devon
hadn’t realized she was crying until tears landed on the picture clutched in
her hands. She wiped the picture against her jeans and stuck it back under the
mirror’s edge.

Chapter 2

One Year Later…

Alex
sat in a bar with his legs stretched out in front of him, a drink wrapped in
his hands as he watched football highlights on multiple television screens.
Tansy, his twenty-something- year- old waitress, with her long, shiny blonde
hair – so much like Addie’s – came back to hover at his table. He took a deep
sip of his drink and cut his eyes away from her. He wasn’t interested in Tansy.
She was too young… too impressionable… too blonde… too taboo… too everything.
He exhaled deeply and ran a hand over his short blonde hair when she finally
trotted away, disappointment rolling off her shoulders at his obvious
brush-off.

It
wasn’t that he was opposed to hooking up with a woman, he just always ensured
to get with those who knew the score up front. He didn’t need any messy
entanglements. He ordered another drink from a different waitress and sat back
and continued watching the highlights. He’d been there nearly two hours and had
had several drinks when the band began to play in the corner of the bar.

An hour
into their set, a brunette with fashionable chunks of blonde layered
throughout, with a lithe body wrapped in a short jean skirt, and sporting a
pair of grey-suede cowboy boots, made her way to his table. She moved a chair
to sit next to him. Alex ran his green eyes up from the tips of her boots to
rest on her green eyes.

She
lifted her margarita and flicked her tongue against the glass to encapsulate
the salt on its edge. He watched the column of her throat move up and down as
she swallowed. When she lowered her glass, he took it from her fingers and set
it on the table beside him. Without a word, he grabbed her hand and led her to
the dance floor. Once there, he pulled her up tight against his body and settled
his hands on her hips to keep her where he wanted her. Without one word being
spoken, he pressed his lips against hers before plunging his tongue into the
woman’s mouth. She gave a token sound of protest before lifting greedy hands to
intertwine behind his neck. He rocked one leg to edge between hers and slid her
body even more intimately against his own. He slid a hand up to stroke the
underside of her breast. She moaned against his tongue.

He
pulled back and stared down emotionlessly into her eyes. “You ready to go?”

“Where
we going?” she asked.

“Your place.”
Alex said.

She
looked at him for just a moment then smiled. “Okay, let’s go.”

Alex’s
head pounded the next morning when he woke with the sun. He looked over at the
brunette and wished he could remember her name, but he wasn’t sure it ever came
up. He laid back and wondered what had awaken him, then he heard it again, a
small steady vibration.
His cell phone.
He rose
quickly and finally found his pants lying on the bedroom floor. Digging into his
pants pocket, he grabbed his phone and walked naked into another room to answer
so as to not awaken the sleeping girl. He’d found it was easier to leave early
and not have those awkward morning conversations.

“Masters,”
he answered.

“Alex.
Where have you been? I’ve been trying to reach you all night,” Jacob Roundtree,
his CIA handler, said.

“Out,”
was Alex’s clipped response.

“Well,
I need to see you right away. There’s a… situation,” Jacob said.

Alex
rolled his head to ease the tension in his neck. “Where and when,” he said.

“Meet
me at Telfair Square at noon,” Jacob directed.

“Noon,”
Alex agreed before clicking off his phone.

Quietly,
he went back into the bedroom and stealthily gathered his clothes. He cast one
last glance at the sleeping woman and then moved back into the living room to
dress. Ensuring to twist the lock in the door handle, he silently closed the
door behind him as he made his escape.

Alex
had time to go home, shower, and grab a bite to eat prior to his meeting in
Telfair Square. In the square, he sat on a bench, leaning forward with his
forearms pressed against his thighs. He straightened when he saw Jacob making
his way purposefully toward him. Alex didn’t know how old Jacob was exactly,
but assumed he was around forty. While he still maintained a trim body, his
hairline had started to recede and his remaining brown hair was littered
throughout with strands of grey. Jacob had the truest grey eyes of anyone Alex
had ever known.

“Masters,
you look like shit,” Jacob said without preamble.

“Don’t
hold back, man,” he replied, sitting back with his arms outstretched on the
green wooden bench.

“Ever
think about drinking less and sleeping more?” Jacob asked.

“Nope,”
Alex answered simply.

“You
can’t keep burning the candle at both ends. Take it from someone who knows,”
Jacob said as he stretched out his legs and crossed his ankles.

“Did
you bring me out here to discuss my sleeping habits, Jay?” he asked.

“I wish
that was the extent of what we needed to discuss,” Jacob answered furtively.

Alex
sat quietly as he gave Jacob time to put his thoughts in order to tell him the
purpose of their meeting. Running a hand over his face, Jacob said, “Alex, you
need to go back to Mexico.
There’s
been some
complications.”

Alex
exhaled deeply, and intertwining his fingers, he stretched his shoulders by
pushing out and away from his body. “Mexico?”

“Yep, Mexico.
The drug cartels have upped
the ante.”

“How?”
Alex asked, as he watched a
mother scoop up a young boy who’d fallen from the fountain’s edge.

“About
a week ago, a shipment of
tactical ballistic missiles
… six,
to be exact, were stolen.”

“From where?”
Alex asked.

“The
shipment was being moved from a military base in Alamogordo, New Mexico, to a
base in El Paso, Texas. The shipment was stolen, with seven military lives
lost. It was a bloody mess,” Jacob said as he stared off in thought.

“Are we
going after the drug dealer or the arms dealer?”Alex asked quietly.

Jacob
pinched the bridge of his nose. “We’ve gotten
intel
that a small- time drug cartel, who call themselves the Negro Caballeros, has
been trying to get a bigger piece of the drug pie for several years, but no
matter how they try, the Toro de
Muerte
cartel
continually blocks them. Word has
it,
the Negro
Caballeros are gathering funds for the missiles.”

Alex
turned his head to stare at Jacob as he thought the situation through. “So if
my Spanish still holds, the Bull of Death cartel is blocking the Black Knights
from the drug game. Where do they get these names?” he scoffed, before
continuing, “Do we know who snagged the missiles?”

“We’ve
gotten mixed
intel
. Some say it was the Toro de
Muerte
, but really why would they bother? They’re already
the largest cartel south of the border. There are those who’ve said it was an
inside job, but the fact of the matter is, we really just don’t know. I need
you to go there and find the missiles before more people die.”

“What’s
my cover?” Alex asked.

Jacob
sent him a look of relief. “I owe you, Alex.”

“I
know,” Alex said in a bored tone.

Jacob
smiled, scrubbing a hand over his two-day-old beard and slid a manila envelope
over to Alex.”Word has it the person with the missiles has attached himself to
a team of
archaeologists
who
are on their way to a dig in Mexico. The dig is set deep in the rainforest of
the Chiapas. Apparently, the Mesoamerican ruins, called Palenque, are there.
The lead archaeologist’s name is
Taggert
Lainer
. He thinks you’re looking for potential oil drilling
sites. He wasn’t particularly thrilled to have you tagging along; however, he
certainly wanted the money the oil company you supposedly work for, provided
for his expedition. You are to meet Lanier and his crew in Mexico City at the
Marriot.”

“Is it
too much to hope you know the name of the suspect on the dig?” Alex asked.

“
Fraid
not.
You
can’t expect me to do all the work. That’s why we’re sending you in. We need to
know who it is and where the missiles are now,” Jacob replied.

Alex
looked over his credentials and pulled out the brief which revealed his cover:
Ben Allred… thirty-two… never married…
originally from Chicago… graduated from Colorado….

Alex
glanced into the envelope and saw the prerequisite cellphone, ID, and credit
cards. “Okay…” Alex sighed deeply. “When do I leave?”

“As
soon as possible,” Jacob said, giving his standard response.

~*M*~

Alex
arrived in Mexico City two days later. He checked into a room under his assumed
name of Ben Allred, unpacked, went down to the bar, took a booth, and ordered
dinner. According to his phone-call from Jacob when he’d arrived in Mexico
City,
Taggert
Lainer
and
his group were scheduled to arrive at the hotel sometime in the next few days.

After
the waitress cleared his table, he wandered into the lounge and stood sipping
Johnny Walker Black Label. He turned, with his back leaned against the bar,
when a small band began to play in the corner. The Marriot drew quite a crowd.
After only a few songs, people began to migrate to the dance floor. The bar and
lounge were typical of most hotels, it was intimate – meaning small; and its
lighting minimal. From where Alex stood, he could see a huge TV monitor
broadcasting a national soccer game. While it wasn’t his sport of choice, he
could live with it.

His
gaze flicked between the TV to those on the dance floor. He watched the faces
of those gyrating together to the beat of the music. While he understood the
looks of anticipation, he wondered at the looks of excitement he’d sometimes
see. He, himself, felt anticipation when he first hooked up with a woman… but
excitement? Not in a very long while.

He was
forced to step back several times as other patrons passed him on their way to
various seats within the small space. It wasn’t vanity which made him aware of
the interest of several women, just experience. Alex sighed and kept his eyes
firmly glued onto the TV. He was suddenly tired of the same old game. It seemed
everything in his life was faked - from his current identity - to sex. What
he’d give to actually feel something… anything but this constant
dissatisfaction. He needed something new… a challenge of sorts.

 
He ignored the admiring glances thrown his way
and finished his drink before ordering another. As he turned back, with drink
in hand, he spotted a woman who’d just entered the bar. She was tall, obviously
Hispanic, with long dark tresses and a curvaceous body.
Luscious
was the word that sprang to his mind.

She was
wearing a pair of jeans and a long-sleeved cotton blouse with a drawstring
around the neckline. The neckline of the blouse was draped across the utmost
part of her arm, leaving her shoulders and neck exposed. Her exotic beauty
caused every man she passed to turn and look at her, but she appeared not to
notice. Instead, she made her way to a booth and slid into it. She gave a smile
to the waitress as she was handed a menu and gave her drink request. The woman
glanced around the lounge area quickly and apprehensively. She glanced at him
but moved her eyes quickly on past him.

Huh
,
thought Alex, he wasn’t used to being ignored. He wasn’t sure he liked it,
either. He leaned back with his elbows resting on the bar’s shiny surface and
tilted his head as he studied the Spanish vixen.

He
lifted a drink to his lips and watched as she bowed her head to read the list
of food offerings. She pursed her full redden lips as she perused. She raised a
hand to twirl several stands of her hair nervously. Alex was somewhat
mesmerized by the movements of her long, tapered fingers. When the band started
to play again, several men approached and asked her to dance, but she declined.

Alex
watched as she picked at her food, then as she spent a half-hour pushing the
rest of it around the plate, all the while continually turning away guy after
guy and glancing furtively at the entrance of the restaurant, as if she were
waiting for someone – or fearing they’d show up.