Alicia myles 1 - Aztec Gold (8 page)

As far back as she could remember Caitlyn Nash had always been burdened with a nervous disposition. If anything remotely outside her comfort zone presented, the uncertainty began to creep in, the barriers went up, and she crept back into herself. It was one of the reasons she’d learned her craft so extensively—at least in her field of expertise she would never feel ill at ease.

Joining Crouch’s team had seemed to be a perfect opportunity. The offer came at the right time, in the right way, through Armand Argento, one of the few men she could now trust. A change was what she needed and, not having had a boyfriend since high school, pets, or indeed parents she could look in the eye of late, she counted her lucky stars and jumped at the chance.

A dream job.

Now a nightmare. Caitlyn recalled the shock she felt when men started storming the apartment and shooting at them. She remembered the only respite being Alicia Myles, the woman that had promised to take care of her. Then, when chaos took the night in its grip and everyone became separated the only eyes she could see were the hard, flinty eyes of her enemy. The ones that forced her along with them and strapped her arms together.

Now, tied to a chair, arms behind her and ankles secured, she could only wait for the inevitable. Nobody had visited her yet. The room where she waited was a simple concrete box, empty, windowless, with water dripping somewhere she couldn’t see. No other noise interrupted her isolation. It was as if the end of the world had come and left her behind.

Caitlyn fought the anxiety. It wouldn’t be good to let them see it. Her field training had been brief, perfunctory, and of little use. They said the training would kick in. They told her she would have untapped reserves. That she would be fine.

Clearly they’d never expected her to be kidnapped by lethal treasure hunters.

Caitlyn wondered about that too. Beyond setting up advanced comms and eyes-on equipment she had participated in nothing. All she knew was what she’d overheard and that was very little.

Would these men believe her?

Sure,
a cynical voice spoke up.
And then they’ll let you take a shower, prepare you a nice meal and send you on your way. Because that’s what killers and mercenaries always did.

The sound of a key rattling in the door snapped her to attention. Adrenalin surged through her body and she sought to moderate it. She could feel how wild her eyes suddenly looked. So much for keeping it under wraps.

A man entered, dressed conservatively in jeans and a faded leather jacket. Graying at the temples he wore his worry lines with dignity, with pride. Handsome, Caitlyn would have called him given a different venue, but here—menacing.

“I’m Greg Coker,” he said quickly. “I’m sure you’ve heard of me.”

Caitlyn hadn’t. The fear choked her voice but Coker read the answer in her eyes.

“When did you join the little crew? I don’t recall you being there at the museum.”

“Yesterday,” she said finally, proud the word came out without a stammer. “After they returned from the north. I’m just a techie.”

“Yesterday?” Coker repeated. “Man, that’s some flat out bad luck, little lady. Not the best start to your new career. Letting yourself get abducted so easy. They won’t come for you, you know.”

Caitlyn was unable to hide her worry. “What?”

“It’s not Crouch’s style. Do you know him at all?”

“Through reputation. He sounds better—”

“Ah, but how did he
earn
that reputation? By taking the glory, the kudos. Not by wasting his time rescuing
techies.
You’re ours now to . . . do with as we please.”

Coker’s hard smile speared her heart. An icy flush washed through her veins, making her forehead clammy. As if to prove his point Coker came forward and laid a hand on top of her head, stroking the short black hair. Caitlyn felt the breath catch in her throat.

“Please . . .”

“Tell me what you know.” Coker backed off a few steps, gauging her reaction. “It will go easier for you.”

Caitlyn balked. The fear overruled her, making every muscle tremble. For a few seconds she was out of control, then managed to slip inside herself and gain a little outward dignity. In the deeper confines of her mind she delved into the dreadful, unprecedented event that had devastated her world only weeks ago. She sought its ugliness, its vile evil. What could be worse? Certainly not her present predicament.

And all made even crueler by the knowledge that it was her parents. Or more precisely her—

“That’s better.” Coker interrupted her nightmare. “Speak now.”

“I . . . I joined yesterday. I don’t know anything.”

Coker’s face turned nasty, but his eyes appealed to her. “Not good enough. You must tell me something. You must have heard
something.
”

Caitlyn stared at him. This scenario suddenly didn’t seem right. She’d never been the best at reading people, but Coker was acting as if he was playing a scene. Performing for some hidden watcher.

She turned hard in her chair, managed to glance quickly over her shoulder. Sure enough a small silver camera with a black lens was mounted on the rear wall, overlooking the scene. She turned back to Coker with new eyes.

“You asked to interrogate me first?”

Coker immediately rubbed his nose, using his closed hand to hide his lips. “They can’t hear us. But they see everything. Please . . . I’m your only chance. I can’t stand what they’ll do to you weighing on my conscience.” He finished with a snarl, shouting “Now!” at her for the benefit of the hidden watchers.

“All I know is their names and the treasure they’re chasing.” Caitlyn found her anxiety lessening now as Coker presented himself more as a covert ally. “And that they have a map.”

Coker bit his lips. “We know about that. It’s what they were told to look for.”

“Look. You’re clearly not with them. Why are you doing this?”

Coker’s face took on a stressed expression and all the light left his eyes. He carefully placed a hand on each of her knees and crouched down between them so that he could look up at her. “The camera can’t see me down here. Pretend I’m hurting you somehow. Throw your head back.”

Caitlyn performed admirably as Coker continued.

“In short, I’m also a prisoner and have to do whatever the boss wants. I hated attacking Michael, doing everything in my power to botch the operation whilst still appearing to implement their plan. I hate everything about this entire operation. But I’m also the one to blame for it. Solomon, he’s a parasite but a rich one.”

“Solomon’s your boss?”

“Yeah. Underworld bottom crawler. Leeches onto people’s mistakes and makes them pay big time.” Coker paused, stricken for a second as if dredging up a terrible memory, then shook it off. “Look, we don’t have much time. If I don’t get my ass out there soon with something juicy they’re gonna send the worst of the worst in here. Please tell me you’ve got something you can tell me.”

“Get me out then. Get yourself out.”

“Don’t you think I’ve thought of that?” Coker hissed. “Shit, I used to be a field agent, lady. But even if I could take them out” —he shook his head, tears fighting to spill from his eyes— “they have me in other ways. There’s nothing I can do.”

Caitlyn stared at him. Coker was a defeated man. How, she didn’t know. But he was an utter wreck, barely hanging on. Christ, she was in deep shit now.

The door suddenly flew open. A man walked in, seeing Coker’s position and ordered him up. “Does girl know anything?” The man’s accent was thick, guttural and halting. Calling her ‘girl’ was depersonalizing to the extreme and a bad sign.

“I haven’t finished yet.”

“Get out, Coker. I will finish.”

“Just give me a bit—”

“Now.” The man came forward, spitting on the floor at Coker’s feet, his dark face twisted with hate; fists bunched. Caitlyn felt a spike of fear, of desperation. Unrealized dreams and visions swept before her eyes.

I’m dead.

Coker, to his credit, stood his ground. “I am in charge here, Dingo. Let me do my fucking job.”

Dingo snarled, practically shaking with anger. The body armor he wore vibrated along with him, its many pockets and knives quivering too. He grasped a baton that sat in his holster like a short sword. “You have till I find cow prod,” he said with an emotionless glance at Caitlyn. “Then, I don’t care. We do it my way.” The sudden calm demeanor was scarier than the anger.

Coker watched him leave. “That guy’s unmanageable. Any man in my unit would’ve buried him by now.”

“Please.” Caitlyn felt the fear spreading through her once again, a cold deluge of anticipated horror. “What can we do?”

Coker turned to her, body closed and expression as cold as arctic ice. “I can’t help you now. It’s a fucked up, last chance world, lady. Tell me something before that madman returns.”

Crouch knew exactly what was at stake. Wasting no time he placed a fast call to Armand Argento, the Interpol agent.

“We have a major problem.” Crouch quickly outlined the situation, unaware of the hour where Argento was and knowing it would not be an issue. “We don’t know the name of the South African. But we do know he’s employing local muscle, one part highly mediocre and the other part highly skilled. That many men, someone’s gotta know something. Plus,” he described the tattoo and attached it to an e-mail. “On its way.”

Argento, speaking through an open line, said, “Got it, amico mio. Ah, but you owe me yet again. That is five is it not? Or six? No mind. What it is, is what it is. No?”

Crouch thought it best not to interrupt the man known as the Jabbering Venetian in full flow.

“So again we go off the book. You and your friends. You would not win so well without me, no?” Thankfully Argento always worked as he talked, which was one of the reasons he got an awful lot done. “But Caitlyn, you must help her, Michael. I feel guilty, mortified, even dirty to have sent her into the hands of the enemy.”

“It’s not your fault, Armand. If any it’s mine.”

Alicia stopped herself from chiming in. They could sort out the blame game later. Right now, both men needed to concentrate on what they were doing.

Argento renewed his flow. “So fair, so English. I felt sorry for her after what happened between her parents. The whole of MI6 found out—somehow, but we will say no more on that, eh? Shocking. Shocking.”

Crouch fielded a return call from the Mexican police. “Thank you,” he said after a minute, hanging up. “Armand, listen. The Mexicans know of this tattoo, but more importantly they know the scars that surround it.”

Alicia leaned forward, now seeing an array of tiny white scars surrounding the distinctive inking of a green dragon wrapped around the turret of a castle, spitting fire. “Knife wounds?”

“Something like that.” Crouch pointed at the screen. “Has to be self-inflicted. There’s too many and they’re too small for anything else to make sense.”

“Could be what gets him and his girl off,” Alicia proposed.

Healey turned to her. “Now that sounds sick.”

“Takes all sorts, kiddo.”

Crouch addressed Argento. “The man is locally known as Dragon Teeth. He’s some kind of ex-military enforcer, paid by the hour. Real name—”

“I have it.” Argento was fast. “Rodriguez. Major war dog. Visited all the worst places you can name and many you can’t. Commonly runs with a local gang they call the banda
,
which I believe is the Spanish word for gang. So, not very imaginative. But they are feared because of their skills. Their military background. It could be the group you are seeking, Michael.”

Crouch paused and called the Mexicans back. “Please run a check on a local gang, the banda
.
I realize it’s probably unusual, but we’re wondering if they have recently been contracted to anyone.”

Argento’s voice sprang from another phone. “When Caitlyn returns you tell her Armand helped. You tell her that or we will speak no more. And inform me. The moment you know.”

“I will.” Crouch thanked Argento and hung up. The room fell into silence as they waited for the Mexicans to call back. Alicia checked her guns again, not liking the old weaponry but knowing it was better suited to her proficient hands than most others. Thinking that way made her slip out to check Russo’s surveillance net, just to double-check they were safe, but the gnarled, watchful warrior was in full control.

When she returned Crouch was talking to the Mexicans. He covered the speaker, looking up at her. “The banda
are working for an outside contractor. We’re just waiting for Intel updates.”

Alicia eyed Healey and Lex. “You ready?”

“Can’t wait.”

“Damn stupid question.”

Alicia could have matched the answers to the men with her eyes and ears covered.

Crouch pursed his lips, listening. “Is that it? That’s all you’ve got?”

Alicia swallowed. “Don’t leave me hanging, Crouchy. What the hell?”

The ex-soldier looked up. “The banda have a hideout. A place of business. Of course, like any gang’s HQ it’s extremely well known to all and sundry. The authorities can give us no confirmed sightings of gang members in the last two days but say there
is
activity inside the HQ right now.”

“Then let’s go get ‘em.” Alicia picked up her guns.