Last Spy Standing (9 page)

He shoved himself out of the hammock, setting it swinging perilously, and looked at her through narrowed eyes, his demeanor growing colder by the second.

“This is what last night was about.” His voice was rigid steel.

The connection that had built between them overnight disappeared. He seemed a thousand miles away. Unreachable.

A sinking feeling spread through her stomach.

“You made sure I didn’t go out so I wouldn’t hear the news myself. Made sure I was busy so I couldn’t break the kid out before you all left in the morning.” His chestnut eyes held disappointment and distaste, as if a snake he’d thought harmless had suddenly bitten him.

Denial surged to her lips. “No. Mitch—”

He dragged on his shirt and was out the door the next second, moving as if he couldn’t get away from her fast enough.

Chapter Eight

Mitch strode through camp, doing his best to forget the way Megan had come apart in his arms during the night, and denying the fact that every cell in his body still wanted her. He searched for Juarez, but when he found the man, he didn’t approach him. Instead, he ambled over to a Jeep nearby where Umberto was struggling with a large crate of supplies.

“You need help?” he offered.

The older man watched him for a long second. Umberto obviously had seen a thing or two and had better instincts about people than most. He hadn’t gotten drunk the night before with the others, hadn’t participated in any of the fights that later ensued. He shrugged at last. “Sure.
Bueno.
”

So Mitch picked up the nearest bag and tossed it in the back of the Jeep, making sure Juarez saw him. “Has the infamous Paolo returned?” he asked after a few minutes, not bothering to keep his voice down. “Yesterday I heard talk of his legendary shooting skills. Maybe he and I could have a friendly contest someday.”

Umberto shook his head. “He’s a tough one. If he ain’t back, there’s a reason.” Again, his gaze stayed on Mitch longer than necessary.

From the corner of his eye, Mitch saw Juarez catch their conversation and frown. The boss barked a few quick questions at the man standing next to him. Mitch couldn’t hear the low-voiced response, but it seemed scared and apologetic.

He hoisted a crate into the car. Umberto put the jugs of water in place. Between the two of them, the Jeep was packed in ten minutes.

“Gracias,”
Umberto said as he patted down the bags and jiggled things into place, making sure they were secure.

“
De nada,
amigo.”

Mitch walked back toward his shack, helping whoever he could on the way without making a big deal of it. Megan was gone by the time he reached his quarters. No surprise there.

He could still smell her shampoo. And he could see her glorious breasts rising above him as she’d straddled him in the hammock. His body grew hard all over again.

He swore under his breath and put the memories of the night out of his mind. She’d fooled him again, plain and simple. “But this will be the last time,” he swore.

He grabbed his backpack, shoved his handgun into the back of his waistband and left the shed. He checked on Zak through the gaps in the wall. The kid was drinking water through the bamboo straw he’d made him last night.

“You all right?”

“I’ll see to it that my father makes you pay for this,” Zak hissed through his lips, barely moving his swollen jaw.

He couldn’t argue. He’d messed up the moment Megan had walked into that clearing at the river and he’d allowed her to join them. Mitch shook his head and moved on, making sure to pass by Juarez and his men again. He knew one thing only. There was no room for any more mistakes on this mission.

“Adios, then,” he called out to Umberto. “Have a good trip.”

“Where are you going?” Umberto asked obligingly.

“Thought I’d hunt a little while you guys are gone.” He kept walking, but called over his shoulder. “A camp the size of this one can always use more meat.” Hopefully, that would remind them of his shooting skills the night before.

He strode toward the woods. He was almost at the edges of the camp, about to melt into the jungle when a shout rang out.

“Alto!”
Stop.

He took two more steps as if not realizing the call was for him.

“Alto! Alto!”
One of Juarez’s men was running after him.

“What is it?” He turned then, obligingly.

“The boss wants you to come with us. We’re shorthanded without Paolo.”

“How long a trip? I just got in. Wouldn’t mind taking a few days break here in camp.”

“You only come to the first drop-off. You guard the goods there and wait for the pickup. You can rest until we come by to get you on the way back.”

So the crates and bags in the Jeeps didn’t all go to Don Pedro. There’d be some sort of a drop-off of illegal goods in the jungle.

He wasn’t trusted enough to be taken all the way to the big boss. Fine. The important thing was, he’d keep sight of Zak for a while longer. They were taking him part of the way, which was better than sneaking after them and trying to track them unseen. If he couldn’t get Zak away before that drop-off, Mitch would figure something out so they’d take him farther.

He caught Juarez watching him from a distance, so he made sure he wasn’t overenthusiastic as he accepted. The man who’d been sent after him clapped him on the shoulder with a grin anyway.

Mitch didn’t return it. He was all business, every bit the mercenary he claimed to be. “So who do I talk to about pay?”

S
HE
DIDN
’
T
KNOW
if she should be impressed or consternated.

She was a CIA agent—she didn’t get frustrated easily, Megan reminded herself. Trouble was, that left impressed, and she didn’t want to be impressed by Mitch.

Bad enough that she’d been thoroughly seduced by him. While on an undercover op in the middle of an enemy camp. There had to be a whole manual full of rules against that somewhere. Not that she wasn’t breaking all the rules already by secretly working to free her brother.

The two Jeeps followed each other closely on the narrow, bumpy road, followed by three ATVs. It was much easier than going on foot, even if the logging road was no more than a collection of potholes in the muddy soil. She was afraid that by the time they reached their destination, the journey might shake her teeth loose.

Mitch was avoiding her on purpose. He’d chosen to ride in the other car, and he never came anywhere near her whenever they hit a particularly bad patch of road and had to get out to help the cars over.

Each time, he worked harder and longer than anyone, earning some of the men’s grudging respect, and the resentment of others who didn’t like Juarez’s approving eye on him. He brushed that off, just went along with the lifting and the pushing.

She knew the game he was playing. According to Umberto, Mitch was to stay at the drop-off site and rejoin the team on their way back. The drop-off was tonight. Mitch wanted to stay with the group longer so he’d have more time to rescue Zak.

And mess up her plans.

She’d vouched for him, back when she’d still hoped he would come around to help her. If he did anything stupid, it would be her butt on the line. Juarez would assume they were working together. He’d shoot first, ask questions later.

She would have liked to think that Mitch wouldn’t do that to her. But as mad as he’d been at her this morning…He was convinced she was the enemy.

If Mitch took off with Zak… Even if she managed to convince Juarez that she wasn’t in cahoots with him— She’d been the one who’d brought Zak back the first time. If the kid disappeared again, and by some miracle, Juarez didn’t blame her, he’d send her after Zak for sure.

Except, she didn’t have time to chase after the kid again. She needed to go to Don Pedro at any cost.

So her primary focus at the moment was to watch Mitch like a hawk and make sure he didn’t spirit Zak away when no one was looking.

When their convoy came to a small creek lined with moss-covered stones, she jumped to the mud to lighten the load. So did most of the others.

“It’s slippery,” the driver said. “Water’s higher than last week.”

They’d had plenty of rain since then. Megan walked alongside the car as they crossed, in position to help if the current began pushing the vehicle downstream. Cold water filled her boots. At least she had dry socks in her backpack so she could change into them when they reached the other side. Walking around with wet feet in the jungle was asking for trouble.

Using her femininity as an excuse to stay in the car didn’t even occur to her. Her continued survival depended on the men knowing that she was as tough as they were. Tougher.

They reached the other side fine, but climbing ashore turned out to be more difficult than the crossing. The mud was deeper here. The lighter ATVs made it up the bank fine, but the tires of the two Jeeps got stuck, which meant another round of heaving and dragging.

If she hadn’t been watching Mitch so closely, she wouldn’t have noticed that this time, instead of helping, he sneaked away into the jungle.

“Need a drain,” he called back with a grin.

Except none of the men ever walked very far to relieve themselves. But Mitch went far enough that she could no longer see him at all.

She moved closer to Zak, trying to figure out Mitch’s game.

He was back in ten minutes. And he was walking funny.

Maybe he’d pulled his back lifting the Jeep and walked off so the men wouldn’t notice his pain. Maybe he just didn’t want to seem weak. Since he didn’t go anywhere near Zak, Megan relaxed and went back to work, focusing her full strength on what she was doing.

Then they were done at last, muddy, cold and exhausted. A short break was ordered. They’d build a fire so that everyone could dry up and grab a bite to eat.

Mitch sat next to Zak, talked to the kid under his breath while the others loudly joked around. They hoped Don Pedro had gotten new women to do the cooking. They hadn’t fancied the last batch of cooks who were old enough to be their mothers.

Megan shook her head good-naturedly at the comments. She rolled her eyes at the more raunchy jokes, but watched Mitch every chance she got, making sure she was close enough to stop him if he made a move. She didn’t like this sudden cozying up to Zak. As good as Mitch was… She didn’t dare turn her back on him for a second.

He was not going to mess up her plans.

She strode right up to Juarez as soon as her bowl was empty. “The kid’s riding with me. Got some questions for him about how he escaped. I don’t like it that a kid like this got through our security.”

Juarez shrugged, busy with his meal. He liked his food and it showed on his midriff. He no longer went on long marches through the jungle; he had plenty of men for that. If he needed to see to something personally, he took one of the Jeeps.

He was getting comfortable in other ways, too. He’d simply had the guard who’d let Zak escape beaten. A year ago, when Megan had shown up, gross negligence like that would have been punished by a shot to the head.

There’d been two previous trips to see Don Pedro since Megan had been at camp. No matter what she’d done, she couldn’t get on Juarez to take her along. She’d been told she needed to earn his trust. Yet Mitch had easily managed to get himself invited. Only to the halfway drop-off point, but still. Juarez was relaxing the rules.

That didn’t bode well for him, especially if he was right and one of the other captains was planning an internal war. Juarez had been doing too well for too long, and he was getting cocky.

Megan grabbed Zak by the elbow and dragged him to the second car so they could ride together. When she glanced back at Mitch, she expected him to be angry. Instead, a look of satisfaction sat on the man’s face, which he quickly masked.

She had no idea what that was about. Didn’t matter. Zak was hers.

“What did he tell you?” she asked the kid.

“To keep my head down so I don’t get into any more trouble.”

She watched Zak’s face for telltale signs that he was lying, but didn’t see any. “Try to remember that.”

They piled into the cars and took off, but didn’t get far before the first Jeep veered off the road and nearly crashed into a tree. Everyone jumped out of the car, swearing up a storm.

Everyone, except Mitch. His knife flashed just before something brownish-green flew from the vehicle. A snake.

A second passed before she recognized the shape of the snake’s head. It was a fer-de-lance, a spearhead. A shiver ran down her back.

“Stay,” she ordered Zak, as she jumped out to take a closer look.

The men had already gathered around the snake. Four feet long and still wriggling—the deadliest snake around. In this jungle, spearheads were responsible for more deaths than any other animal.

There wasn’t a face that didn’t go a little pale. She felt the blood draining out of her own.

Juarez shook off the scare first.

His gaze settled on Megan. “I owe you my thanks. This man you brought to us is a good one. He saved my life today.”

Mitch.

Oh, man. She’d left Zak alone in the car and every man’s attention was on the snake. Except for Mitch’s, and he wasn’t here.

She whipped around, expecting both him and the kid to be gone, but Mitch was right behind her. He stepped forward, bent and cut the dead snake’s head off with a clean swipe of his knife, speared it on a stick and held it out to Juarez.

Juarez took it and grinned at the open mouth, at the fangs. It was the exact kind of trophy he liked, although she had no idea how Mitch would know that.

The other men who’d been riding up front seemed equally happy with their latest comrade in arms, but Umberto, who’d been driving the Jeep Megan and Zak rode in, narrowed his small brown eyes as he watched the proceedings.

Looked like Mitch’s sudden rise into the boss’s favor was gaining him at least one enemy. Odd, since Umberto was one of the most easygoing of the men, not given to fits of temper or jealousy. Still, Mitch would be smart to watch his back, she thought as she headed back to the car and the kid.