White Hot: A Patrick & Steeves Suspense (10 page)

E
mily bit
her tongue and stared down at the men filing into the warehouse. She was dying to know what they were doing. A lot of men had gone in, still no one had come out. And she desperately wanted to be a fly on the wall in the house and find out what Jack, Garcia and El Pato were talking about.

“I can’t sit here and do nothing,” she said, sorry the instant the words rolled off her tongue. Frustration laced each one. She was built for action, trained for action, and she’d be damned if she was going to cower behind this hill while there was work to be done below.

“I’m not suggesting we do nothing, except … We were sent here to do surveillance,” Dal said, his voice carefully measured. He was talking to her like he was crossing a minefield. “Let’s take a few minutes and figure out a plan instead of going off half-cocked.”

She swiveled her head in his direction. “Half-cocked?”

“Fuck, Em, you know what I mean. Why are you taking exception to everything that comes out of my mouth?”

She held his gaze while she breathed in through her nose, then bent to brush dirt away from the wound in her leg to buy time. “Fine. Let’s make a plan.” She sat and he folded himself down beside her. “But it’s going to start with me going down there.”

“Let’s say you go,” he said. “What’s the goal?”

“Video,” she said. “I’ll sneak up to the window at the house so I can hear them. If conditions are good, I’ll take some video.” She pulled the camera from her pocket and waved it in the air. “Like I told you earlier, Jill said she needs video proof to know for sure if Jack is dirty.”

“And then?”

She stared off into the night. “And then, I’ll come back up here.”

“Why take such a huge risk for so little gain?” Dal asked. “Seriously, I don’t see how that gets us much further ahead.”

Emily’s foot began to twitch. If she didn’t take action soon - any action - she was going to explode. What she needed to nail Jack could be happening this very minute.

“Surveillance work is boring,” Dal said. “I get it. But frankly, your plan seems a little reckless.”

“We have to be prepared to make our own decisions when the situation warrants it,” she said. “I need that video. I’ll be down and back before you know it.”

Dal’s frustration narrowed his gaze which was fixed on her face.

“Okay, look. While I’m down there, you can try to fix the satellite phone. That way we get both things done.”

He laughed. “I don’t know anything about comms,” he said. “Surely you know more than I do.”

She stared at him, raised a brow.

“Because of the military,” he continued. “When I went for training yesterday, we spent maybe an hour on comms, but - and I’m guessing here - but surely you have more knowledge than I do.” His voice dripped with sarcasm.

“I know a little bit but not that much.” The truth was, she probably did know more than him. But it was her call and she wanted to see with her own eyes what Jack was cooking up down below.

The night had cooled and, with the help of the Ibuprofen and dehydration tabs, her headache was gone, she no longer felt like puking, and she was getting some of her energy back.

She stood. “Here’s how we’ll do it.” She took a long drink of Gatorade and passed him the last of it, staring into the night to avoid meeting his eyes. The crescent of a new moon was rising over the hills to the east, the sky overhead a blanket of stars. “I’ll go down, you work on the phone, and if you see anything you can warn me with our signal.”

“Let me get this straight. While I’m working on putting the satellite phone back together, in the dark, with a penlight, I’m also going to be watching you at the house below.”

“So don’t work on the phone.” She puffed out air and turned her face from him. “I’m going down there, it would be great if you could cover me.” She checked her pockets to be sure she had a light. This was starting to piss her off. It was her decision to make, after all. If he kept pushing her, she’d end up telling him. And that wouldn’t end well.

“Em,” he said, taking her arm. “I’ll cover you, but this is a really bad idea. Why don’t you stay and cover me and I’ll go down? You went the last time.”

“Oh for fuck sakes,” she said. “Look, it’s like you said, Dal. I’m the one with the military training. I’m the one with a stake in how the whole thing with Jack and my father works out—”

“You don’t think I have a stake in this, too? Why do you think they sent me down here?”

“To back me up,” she blurted. The minute she said it, she wished she could take the words back. The disappointment that darkened Dal’s face was almost more than she could bear.

“It’s my understanding,” he said, enunciating each word carefully, “that we’re here to work as a team. If they wanted to send back up for you, they could have chosen someone else.”

“So you think because you’re the guy, you should be in charge?”

“I didn’t say that. Usually in a team everybody makes an equal effort. Or maybe I’m not understanding the meaning of ‘team’.”

She could see he had more to say but thought better of it. When she was sure he was done, she reached for one of the handguns. Her pockets were already loaded with ammunition and she was ready to go.

“Here’s the thing,” she said. “When you were at training yesterday, I had to return to HQ to take care of a few things. While I was there, Jill summoned me to her office. I didn’t want to tell you this but you’ve left me no other choice.”

Dal cocked his head and she continued, choosing her words carefully. “She wanted me to know that, since I
am
the one with military training, I’m to take the lead on the project. She didn’t want you to know and I’m sorry. But I will be making the decisions I think are best, and my decision right now is to go get video to use against Jack.”

She turned away before she could see his reaction, tucked the gun in the waistband of her jeans, and picked her way quietly down the hill.

D
al stood watching
her slide down the scree on the backside of the hill. On the other side, all the men had disappeared into the building. So far, nobody had come back out. He wondered what they were doing.

Just as well she was gone. He thought he’d been hot earlier in the sun, but at this moment his blood boiled. Not once had he treated her like he had to be in charge. Her remark had been totally unfair and when she returned, he planned to make that clear to her.

He watched her, barely a shadow, as she started back toward the house. The night was clear but, without a bright moon or city lights, the darkness was almost impenetrable. She stayed to the left, away from the barn and the warehouse. Crouching, she made her way from cactus to bush across the open expanse of yard to get to the house.

She moved down along the west side of the house and out of his sight. He started to count. And then he started to laugh.

She was a maverick. No wonder they seemed so much alike. What she didn’t know, and didn’t give him time to tell her, was that Jill had given him the same damn talk. About how he would have to take the lead in the field, make the tough decisions. And that he wasn’t to tell Emily they’d spoken about it.

What did that woman gain by trying to wedge even a shred of distrust between them? They needed each other out here, they’d brought them together because they worked well as a team. It didn’t make sense.

One thing for sure, his instinctive dislike of Jill was now confirmed. In spades. The woman was a manipulator of major proportions, he wished he could figure out what purpose she would have in making them adversaries. He grinned, hoping he and Emily could have a good laugh about this later.

He peered toward the house, still couldn’t see a thing. He calculated she’d been out of sight for three minutes.

He was a maverick, too, so he got that. But it had gotten him in a crap load of trouble. Never had acting on his own resulted in anything good. Even if saving the Senator’s baby did count as something really good - which it did - his actions in that last fire, acting on his own, thinking he was smarter than his team, were what got him suspended.

And Emily? She hadn’t talked much about what happened in Afghanistan and he hadn’t wanted to push her about it, but he got the sense that she blamed herself and perhaps she’d also acted on her own independent leanings.

They’d have to learn to work together and trust each other one hundred and ten percent. There wasn’t any other way this would work. Despite his aches and bruises, despite being stranded in the desert with Jack and his thugs, Dal was grateful - yes, grateful - to be doing something useful and not stuck pacing his living room, counting off the days of his suspension. He didn’t plan on letting Emily’s pride or inability to trust jeopardize that.

A noise to his right alerted him to movement outside the warehouse. Diego, standing in the light framing the doorway, struck a match and lit a cigarette. He stood there smoking, clearly savoring the tobacco and gazing out into the night, while Dal counted off another two minutes. What the hell was Emily doing down there?

Diego ground his cigarette out beneath the heel of his boot. Dal watched in horror as he strode across the yard, his long legs making quick work of the distance. Dal cupped his hands and sent out a warning signal for Emily.

When he reached the house, his foot on the first step of the porch, Diego cocked his head. At the same time, Dal heard the solid thunk of wood against wood cut through the stillness of the night. Diego hurried to the side of the house. Dal sucked in a breath and reached for the remaining gun in the pile of supplies beside him.

E
mily balanced
on a piece of old lumber she’d braced against the wall below the dining room window. Although she had an excellent view of the men inside, she was only catching fragments of the conversation. So far, those fragments included a lot of preening on Jack’s part, occasional translation by Jack’s immediate boss Garcia, and the odd nod from el Pato.

She’d shot about five minutes of video before realizing the quality was so low it would be practically worthless. Edging her ear closer to the window, she determined they were talking about weapons and a special shipment Jack was particularly excited about.

Through the night air she heard the cry of the hawk. She looked to her right, didn’t see anything, but her quick movement threw her off balance. The rotten wood gave way beneath her as her weight shifted, the pieces clattering against each other like muted shots in the night.

“What the hell was that?” Garcia’s voice came from inside. She heard chairs push back and the men walk toward the window.

Crouching, she scrambled against the side of the house, desperate to get around the corner without being seen. As she neared the corner, her way was blocked by a large form. She bit back a scream as she looked up into the hard eyes of Diego.

* * *

“
W
ell now
, what do we have here?” Jack settled back into his chair. He tilted it backward, balancing on the back legs and folding his hands across his stomach.

Diego held her firmly by her shirt collar, her toes barely touching the ground. She swung like a deranged marionette, struggling to punch the wall of a man holding her.

“Nice work, Diego. What was she doing outside?”

“Damned if I know,” the man grunted, maintaining his grasp on her shirt as he passed her gun to Jack. “She had this on her.”

Emily stared at Jack, wanted to spit at the man, but his face remained neutral. Neither Jack nor Diego acknowledged they knew her.

“Who’s this?” Garcia asked.

“Someone who has her nose where it doesn’t belong.” Jack stood and loomed over her, placing himself strategically so the two men at the table couldn’t see the finger he placed over his lips. “Who are you?”

“I live on the next ranch,” she said. “I was looking for my dog.”

“I don’t think so,” came Garcia’s voice from behind.

“Who are you?” Jack repeated, teeth bared.

“Just a girl out for an evening stroll,” she said, a smile tugging the corner of her lip.

“Stop the bullshit. Who are you? What are you doing here?”

“I heard you sell organic eggs on this ranch,” she said.

His hand made contact with her cheek, hard, before she even saw it coming. Tears welled up in her eyes.

“I won’t ask you again. What are you doing here?”

She spat at him, misjudged the distance between the rocking of her body, and missed his shoulder by inches. Her spittle landed on the edge of the table and dripped down to the floor.

“That’s enough,” Jack said. “Get her out of here. I’ll deal with her later.”

“Where you want her, boss?”

“Throw her in the barn. Go on, we have business to finish.”

* * *

D
iego dragged
her through the kitchen, across the porch and down the stairs. The pain shooting up her body as her injured leg bumped down the stairs brought tears to her eyes. She struggled against him, trying to land a punch near his kidneys or get her hands near his eyes. The man was built like a stone mountain, his arms long enough that she couldn’t make contact.

Flailing behind him as he crossed the yard toward the darkened barn, she heard Dal’s signal. Three cries of the hawk in quick succession. He would want to come down here and rescue her. And then what? And then there’d be no one to save her. She shook her head side to side, twisting to look up at the hill, praying he would stay away, fix the damn Satellite phone.

A shiver of fear snaked up her spine when Diego switched on the large overhead lights in the barn and pulled her across the oil-stained floor. She scanned the area for something she could use as a weapon but couldn’t wrestle free from the man’s iron grip on her collar. She’d try a different tack.

“You should let me go,” she pleaded.

“Why would I do that?” he grunted.

“Because we let you go,” she said.

He laughed in her face. “Aye,
gringa
, you didn’t let me go. You tried to fuckin’ kill me.”

“But in the end, we let you go home to your family—”

He cuffed her on the ear. “
Callate
. I’m in charge now.”

A mist dropped over her eyes. Her ears were ringing, her vision fuzzy. He kept talking but his voice came to her from a great distance and she couldn’t make out the words.

He hauled her down along the left side past several doors until they came to the room she dreaded most. Her stomach knotted. She started to shake. The door stood ajar. Light spilled out of the opening and she blanched when she took in the fresh blood splattered against the wall, the down turned boots of the prone body sprawled out in the corner, the man’s hands chained to a hook in the wall.

She struggled to hold her head up, hissed at Diego as he tied her wrists and secured her to the wall. Her blood ran cold, the curtain of unconsciousness dropping over her like a cloak. Before she passed out, she glanced over at the giant of a man on the floor in the other corner. She might be going to hell tonight, but apparently she wouldn’t be going alone.