Jungle Inferno (28 page)

“These will be fine,” she assured him with a weak smile. “Thank you.” She turned to Tia, the pile of clothes in her hand. “Let’s divide these up.” Tia waved her hand. “I’m good with whatever. You choose.”

“Would it be an imposition if I asked to take a shower?” Faith asked of Dan.

“Not at all. Come on. I’ll make sure you have everything you need.” The bathroom was small but efficient, the stall shower tucked into one corner. Faith stood under the hot spray letting the heat steep into her chilled body. But even the hottest water couldn’t reach the chill around her heart at the thought of Mark and his situation. What if they didn’t get him out in time? What if they ended up not even being able to find him?

There was, of course, no shower gel but she rubbed the bar of soap into her hand and worked up a good lather. Moving her hand over her body she closed her eyes and imagined it was Mark’s. Stroking her breast. Cupping it. Pinching her nipples. She pinched them harder, welcoming the streaks of pain that shot immediately to her pussy.

Her inner muscles quivered, hungry for something to fill her empty channel.

She rubbed her stomach in a slow, circular motion, remembering when she and Mark were lying in bed and he’d done the same thing to her. Moving his hand lower and lower. Extending his little fingers so as his hand moved his finger swirled the tip of her clit.

Now she tried to mimic that movement but her fingers were not as long as his, so she had to slide her hand lower. At the lightest touch fire streaked through her swollen nub and surged through her body.

Mark!

She screamed his name silently in her head and shoved two fingers into her greedy pussy, riding it as she rode Mark’s hand. It took three of her fingers to fill the space where he used two, but she was desperate now. Suddenly frantic to make herself climax, as if reliving the orgasm she shared with him would somehow guarantee his safety.

She bent her legs slightly and worked her fingers faster and faster, pinching her nipple again at the same time.

The orgasm rippled through her rather than crashing, and it left her vaguely dissatisfied. She leaned against the shower wall, aware she’d done nothing but take the edge off her need, leaving her still anxious and vaguely dissatisfied.

She rinsed herself off thoroughly and turned off the shower, reaching for a towel.

Well, at least she wasn’t cold anymore. Except around her heart.

* * * * *

“He’s doing what?” Winslow held the receiver away from his head and looked at it as if expecting it to turn into a foreign object. He’d been back in his office barely five minutes when he got the call. Suddenly the room paneled in warm mahogany with its thick carpets began to more closely resemble a plush cell.

“You heard me.” Digger’s voice was harsh. “I approved it so don’t give me any shit.

We need to find her and get her out of the way.”

“Whose idea was this, anyway?” Winslow yanked at his tie to loosen it, unbuttoned his collar and opened the door to the hidden bar.

“I told them to smoke her out.” Digger snorted. “I guess they took me literally.”

“You don’t think burning down her house is a little drastic?”

“I think going to prison would be a lot more radical. At this point we need to stop her from banging on doors. This will either keep her occupied or scare the shit out of her.”

“If Phoenix has her they’ll never let her out in the open. Even with something like this.”

“Don’t be so sure. Besides, this might be a way to get at them too.” Winslow laughed but there was little humor in the sound. “Now I know you’re crazy. Nobody gets at them. You above all people should know that.”

“Still, it’s a shot we have to take.”

Winslow poured two fingers of bourbon into a Baccarat tumbler, tossed in some ice cubes and tossed a healthy swallow down his throat. “Are you any closer to finding out who gave up the info for the mission to begin with?”

“Another boondoggle.”

The silence that drifted along the connection was almost palpable. Winslow finished his drink and poured another one. Before this was over he was liable to turn into an alcoholic.

“No hint?” he pursued.

“My boss knows,” Digger said, his voice tight. “I know him well enough to read the signs. But I couldn’t blow it loose if I shoved a stick of dynamite up his ass.” Winslow tossed back part of the second drink. “Argentina is beginning to look better all the time.”

Digger made a noise. “That may not be far enough.”

“So when is this event supposed to take place?”

“Tonight. I’ll call you when it’s done. You’ll be home?”

“I don’t know. Call my cell. I’ll have it on. And Digger. These guys better know what the hell they’re doing.”

* * * * *

When Faith emerged into the main room of the cabin, showered and dressed in the borrowed clothes, Rick took her into the bedroom to meet his brother and she and Joey spent a few minutes talking. It was obvious to her, though, he was still in a great deal of pain. She waited until Troy gave him another dose of pain meds, then went back to join the others.

“I can hardly believe he lived through that,” she told Rick.

“Latrobes are tough,” he told her, his face tight with anger. “But I promise you the people who did this to him—to Mark—will wish they’d never been born.”

“Have you found out anything yet about the email message? Because if not, I’ve got someone I’m pretty sure can trace it.”

“Oh?” He lifted an eyebrow. “I’ve got someone working on it, but if he doesn’t get answers soon we’ll go to Plan B. Your guy. After I talk to him.” He gestured at the other men in the room. “Normally Mike would do it himself but as you can see, getting ready for this mission takes priority over everything.”

She looked around the room. Gear was everywhere, laid out in an obviously orderly fashion. Mike and Dan sat at the big round table with an assortment of weapons in front of them and in a chest to the side, methodically checking each of them over.

Faith had no idea what any of them were but she was sure they could stage a small revolution with what they had.

Troy sat on the floor, stacking piles of camo clothing with wet suits and checking everything for damage. Rick was on the couch, a variety of equipment on the low table in front of him. Faith was able to identify some pieces of the comm gear just from reading she’d done.

Tia was in the kitchen making a fresh pot of coffee and fixing sandwiches for everyone. She grinned at Faith. “You know me. I have to make myself useful.” Faith hugged her. “I have to tell you again how much I hate dragging you into this.”

“Are you kidding?” She leaned over to whisper in Faith’s ear. “All these hunks in this room? It’s like a testosterone buffet.” She winked. “And not one of them is married.”

“Probably with good reason,” Faith whispered back.

“Miss Wilding?” Dan put down the gun he was checking. “We need you for a moment.”

“Please call me Faith. I think we’re well into the first name stage here.”

“Faith, then. Please.” He gestured at an empty chair. “Could you sit down for a moment?”

Oh- oh. This couldn’t be good.

“What is it?”

“I want to make it perfectly clear to you exactly what’s going to happen when we leave here.”

“I think I have a pretty good idea,” she told him.

“I doubt it. Movies and books romanticize stuff like this. Here are the hard facts.

We’ll be flying to Peru and a helicopter will drop us at our insertion point. The helo will hover and you’ll have to jump without breaking a leg. You understand?”

“Of course.” She folded her hands tightly in front of her. They were trying to scare her but her fear for Mark was greater than her fear for herself.

“You’ll be wearing gear like the rest of us except you won’t have a rifle. Unless you’re very familiar with an AK47, we won’t have time to teach you and I don’t want to take the chance you might kill one of us by accident.”

“Fine.” What did they expect her to say?

“You’ll have to carry some kind of firepower, however. Just in case. None of us can take the time to provide protection for you.”

She glared at him. “I don’t expect you to. And by the way, I know how to shoot a gun.”

Dan raised an eyebrow, skepticism plain on his face. “Is that right?”

“Yes. It is. Two years ago I took a handgun class and got my license to carry concealed. I practice at the range regularly.”

Rick, overhearing, burst into a humorless laugh. “You’re just full of surprises, aren’t you?”

“Mark insisted on it. He said I travel around by myself too much not to do it.”

“I see. And what’s your weapon of choice, Annie Oakley?” Faith resisted the urge to smack him. This wasn’t the time to let anger get the best of her. “A Glock nine millimeter. And I’m damn good with it.”

“Fine. Here.” Dan held out a weapon to her. “See how this feels in your hand. Don’t worry, it’s not loaded yet.”

Faith took the gun and hefted it. “Fine. It’s a little heavier than mine but I can handle it.”

“All right. Here’s a full clip. Mike, take her out on the porch and see how quick she can lock and load.”

Faith took the clip and followed Mike out into the cold. She felt like she had the first day at the range, when her instructor looked at her with mixed horror and respect. But she jammed the clip in place, racked the slide and took her stance in three seconds.

“Aim for that target.” He pointed to one tacked to a tree, barely visible through the rain.

She looked up at him, he nodded, she shrugged and emptied the clip. Every bullet hit the center of the target. She couldn’t help the smug smile on her face.

Mike looked down at her with unwilling respect in his eyes. “Well, well. You’re not quite what you seem to be, are you?”

“I don’t know. What do I seem to be?”

He led her back inside. “I guess I’m not too old to be surprised,” he told Dan, nodding. “She’s good to go.”

Troy was eyeing her for a fit with clothing when Joey, who they’d all thought was asleep, yelled to them from the bedroom.

“Hey. Come here, all of you. Right now.”

Flashing looks of concern at each other, they rushed to the room. Joey was sitting up in bed, watching the small television hooked to a satellite receiver. Panic flashed in his eyes.

“Take a look at the news.” He pointed to the screen.

Dan stared at the image of a home engulfed in flames.

“A total destruction of the home of well-known author Faith Wilding. Investigators have yet to determine the cause…”

“Shit,” Rick ground out.

Faith moved to look at the television. “What… Oh my God! That’s my house.” She looked up at Rick. “My house is burning down.” She turned to push past him but he caught her arms.

“Where are you going?”

“I-I-I have to call someone. Everything I own is in that house.” She tugged at his grasp. “Let me get my phone.”

He tightened his grip. “First of all, your cell phone won’t work up here. You’d need a satellite phone.”

“Which you have, right?” Her arms were upraised her hands curled into fists as she continued to try to free herself.

“Yes but I’m not letting you use one. Faith!” He raised his voice. “Listen to me, will you?”

She fought back the tears burning her eyelids. This was no time to fall apart. “Please let me go. I have to call someone. My agent. The fire department. Somebody.”

“No.” Dan had moved to stand beside her. “Faith, this is exactly what they want.

This is why they did it.”

She stared up at him, shocked. “You mean this was set deliberately?”

“I’d bet on it. They tried to kill you, we made you disappear, now they need to get you out in the open.”

“Dan’s right,” Rick added. “Whoever these people are, they’re obviously pretty powerful. Penny ante crooks wouldn’t do something as drastic as setting your house on fire.”

“And I guarantee you,” Dan picked up again, “they’ve got every place monitored that you might call. They’ll trace you and swoop in to get you.” Tia had been standing in front of the set, watching with stunned horror as firemen worked to subdue the flames without much success. She turned to her friend. “Faith, they’re right. You’ve obviously pushed some pretty powerful buttons and now you’re a liability. They need to get rid of you before you do any more damage.” Faith couldn’t stop shaking, hardly able to absorb the fact that every personal possession she had in the world was gone. The first editions of her books, her notes, family pictures and mementoes. God, the list was endless. She realized what people felt like who lost their identities.

“Those are just things,” Tia reminded her. “Maybe you can’t replace them but at least you weren’t in the house. Be grateful for that.”

Rick led her gently back into the living room, sat her at the table and motioned for Troy to pour some brandy in a glass. He wrapped her hands around the tumbler of whiskey. “Drink this, but just a sip, enough to counteract the shock to your system.

You’ll need all your wits about you on this trip.”

Shock didn’t begin to describe what she felt. Her body trembled all over and she felt as if her veins were filled with ice. She had to use both hands to grip the glass as she lifted it to her mouth. Even then a few drops splashed onto her fingers.

Dan seated himself across from her. “Tell me again who you talked to about Mark.”

“Only Major Gregorio and Colonel Ryan. But I asked Senator Winslow to help me get into Fort Bragg. The major wasn’t returning my phone calls.” She gave them a brief recap of her conversations, shivering at the look they exchanged. “What?”

“I can promise you the leak didn’t come from Gregorio or Ryan,” Dan said. “That means Winslow is somehow in bed with the devil. He wasn’t fooled a bit by your ploy of wanting to write a different kind of book.”

“Something you said pulled a trigger with him,” Rick pointed out. “My guess is he or someone else had you checked out and found out more about your relationship with Halloran than you’d want them to know. If they’re the ones in bed with the enemy, it was decided you were a liability.”

If possible she began to tremble even more. She quickly lifted the glass to her lips and took a healthy swallow, sputtering as the fiery liquid burned her throat.