Soldier of Fortune (5 page)

Her eyes locked on their clasped hands. “But I thought you kissed me to—how did you put it—make it look better for the men?”

“I did. And to satisfy my own curiosity about you. And yours about me.” He tilted her face up to his. “Now we know, don’t we?”

“I think I’d be better off not knowing,” she muttered.

“Really? At least now you’ve learned how to kiss.”

“You have the diplomacy of a tank!” she shot at him.

He smiled, his teeth white against that olive tan. “You’re spunky, Gabby. I’m glad. You’re going to need spunk.”

His words brought back the reason for their trip, and she frowned. The plane started to descend and she clung to J.D.’s strong fingers, wondering if in a few weeks this would all be nothing more than a memory. He’d said they’d have to seem involved; was this just a practice session? The frown deepened. She realized quite suddenly that she didn’t want it to be. She wanted J.D. to kiss the breath out of her, as he’d threatened, and mean it.

They landed in Mexico City, and Gabby’s eyes widened as they walked into the terminal. She smiled, dreams of Aztecs and ancient ruins going through her mind—until she remembered poor Martina, and the fact that they weren’t here to look at tourist attractions.

She looked at J.D., standing tall and quiet at her side. He stared slowly around the terminal while Gabby shifted restlessly beside him, their two small carry-on cases beside her.

After what seemed like a long time, J.D. began to smile as a tall, devastatingly attractive man strode toward them. He was wearing a beige suit and leather boots, and he looked debonair and a little dangerous—like J.D.

“Laremos.” J.D. grinned as they shook hands.

“Did you think I’d forgotten you?” the other man asked in softly accented English. “You look well, Archer.”

Gabby’s eyebrows lifted curiously.

“Archer,” the man explained, “is the name to which he answered many years ago, during our…acquaintance. You are Gabby Darwin, no?”

“Yes.” She nodded. “And you are Señor Laremos?”

“Diego Laremos,
a sus ordenes,
” he said formally, bowing. He grinned. “A beauty, Archer.”

“Yes, I think so myself,” J.D. said casually, smiling at her as he drew her unresisting body close to his side. “Did Dutch phone you?”

The smile faded and Laremos was at once something else, something out of Gabby’s experience. “
Sí.
Drago and Semson and Apollo are here now.”

“Good. How about my equipment?”

“Apollo got it from Dutch,” Laremos said, his voice low and intent. “An Uzi and a new AKM.”

J.D. nodded while Gabby tried to decide what in the world they were talking about. “We’ll need some RPGs.”

“We have two,” Laremos said. “And eight blocks of C-4, rockets for the RPGs, assorted paraphernalia, jungle gear, and plenty of ammo. The border is a hotbed for drug and human traffickers these days—you can get anything if you have the money and the contacts.”

J.D. smiled faintly. “Dutch said First Shirt has both. You made a smart move when you put him in charge of your ranch security.”

“Sí,”
Laremos agreed. “It is why I survive and many of my neighbors have not. The
finca
above mine was burned to the ground a month ago, and its owner…” He glanced at Gabby. “Forgive me,
señorita.
Such talk is not for the ears of women.”

“I don’t even understand it,” she said, studying both men. “What is an RP…whatever it was? And what do you mean, rockets?”

“I’ll tell you all about it later,” J.D. promised. “Got the plane?” he asked Laremos.

The other man nodded. “We will have to go through customs. I assume you have nothing on you that it would be embarrassing to declare when we land, otherwise you would not have made it through Mexican customs.”

J.D. chuckled. “Even with you along, I doubt they’d look the other way if I boarded with an Uzi slung around my neck and clips of ammunition hanging out of my pockets.”

Laremos laughed too. “Doubtless they would not. Come. We are gassed up and ready to go.”

“Uzi?” Gabby queried as they followed him.

J.D. pulled her against him briefly. “An Uzi is an Israeli-made weapon. It’s classified as a submachine gun.”

“Did you use one in the Special Forces?”

He laughed softly. “No.”

“Then how do you…and why…and what…?”

He bent suddenly and pressed a hard, warm kiss on her startled mouth. “Shut up, Gabby, before you get us into trouble.”

As if she could talk at all, after that. Her lips felt as though they’d been branded. If only they’d been alone, and it could have been longer…

Laremos had a twin-engine plane and a pilot to fly it. He settled into one of the comfortable seats in front of Gabby and J.D., and another man, small and young, brought them cups of coffee as the plane headed toward Guatemala City.

“I have told the appropriate people that you and your friend here are visiting me,” Laremos said to J.D. and laughed. “It will put you under immediate suspicion I fear, because my past is no secret. But it will spare you the illegality of having to smuggle yourself across the border. I have friends high in government who will help. Oddly enough, the terrorists who have your sister attempted to kidnap me only weeks ago. First Shirt was nearby and armed.”

“First Shirt doesn’t miss,” J.D. recalled.

“Neither did you, my friend, in the old days.” Laremos studied the older man unsmilingly.

“How many men are there in the terrorist group?” J.D. asked. “Hard core, Laremos, not the hangers-on who’ll cut and run at the first volley.”

“About twelve,” came the reply. “Maybe twenty more who will, as you say, cut and run. But the twelve are veteran fighters. Very tough, with political ties in a neighboring country. They are just part of an international network, with members in Italy who saw a chance to make some fast money to finance their cause. Your brother-in-law is an important man, and a wealthy one. And the decision to bring your sister here was most certainly devised by one of those twelve. They took over the
finca
only a month ago. I have little doubt that the kidnapping has been planned for some time.” He shrugged. “Also, it is known that the Italian authorities have been successful in dealing with this sort of kidnapping. There is less risk here, so they smuggled her out of Italy.”

“Roberto is trying to borrow enough to bargain with,” J.D. said. “He’s determined not to go to the authorities.”

“He does not know about you, does he?” Laremos asked quietly.

J.D. shook his head. “I covered my tracks very well.”

“You miss it, the old life?”

J.D. sighed. “At times. Not often anymore.” He glanced at Gabby absently. “I have other interests now. I was getting too old for it. Too tired.”

“For the same reasons, I became an honest man.” Laremos laughed. “It is by far the better way.” He stretched lazily. “But sometimes I think back and wonder how it would have been. We made good
amigos,
Archer.”

“A good team,” J.D. agreed. “I hope we still do.”

“Have no fear,
amigo.
It is like swimming—one never forgets. And you, do you keep in condition?”

“Constantly. I can’t get out of the habit,” J.D. said. “Just as well that I have. Cutting through that jungle won’t be any easy march. I’ve been keeping up with the situation down here, politically and militarily.”

“What about this lovely one?” Laremos asked, frowning as he studied Gabby. “Is she a medic?”

“She’ll handle communications,” J.D. said shortly. “I want her at the ranch with you so that there’s no chance she might get in the line of fire.”

“I see.” Laremos’s dark eyes narrowed and he laughed. “Trust still comes hard to you, eh? You will never forget that one time that I let my mind wander…”

“No hard feelings,” J.D. said quietly. “But Gabby runs the set.”

Laremos nodded. “I understand. And I take no offense. My conscience still nags me about that lapse.”

“Will somebody tell me, please, what’s going on?” Gabby asked when she could stand it no longer.

“I’ve gotten together a group to get Martina out,” J.D. said patiently. “That’s all you need to know.”

“The mercs! They’re already here?”

“Yes,” he murmured, watching her with a tiny smile on his face.

“Ah, I think the line of work of our
amigos
fascinates this one.” Laremos grinned handsomely.

“Can I actually talk to them?” Gabby said, persisting, all eyes and curiosity. “Oh, J.D., imagine belonging to a group like that, going all over the world to fight for freedom.”

“A lot of them do it for less noble reasons, Gabby,” he said, searching her face with an odd intensity. “And you may be disappointed if you’re expecting a band of Hollywood movie stars. There’s nothing glamorous about killing people.”

“Killing…people?”

“What in God’s name did you think they did, turn water hoses on the enemy?” he asked incredulously. “Gabby, in war men kill each other. In ways you wouldn’t like to know about.”

“Well, yes, I realize that.” She frowned. “But it’s a very dangerous way to live, it’s…” She stopped and searched for words. “Before I came to work for you I lived a quiet, kind of dull life, J.D.,” she said, trying to explain. “Sometimes I thought that I’d probably never do anything more exciting than washing clothes at the Laundromat. Those men…they’ve faced death. They’ve learned the limits of their courage, they’ve tested themselves until the secrets are all gone.” She looked up. “I don’t suppose it makes sense, but I think I envy them in a way. They’ve taken all the veneer off civilization and come away with the reality of what they are. In a terrible way, they’ve seen the face of life without the mask. I never will. I don’t think I really want to. But I’m curious about people who have.”

He brushed the hair back from her face with a gentle hand. “When you see First Shirt, you won’t have to ask questions. You’ll be able to read the answers in his face. Won’t she, Laremos?”

“But indeed.” He chuckled.

“Is he a friend of yours?” she asked J.D.

He nodded. “One of the best I ever had.”

“When you were in the Special Forces?” she asked.

He turned away. “Of course.” He glanced at Laremos, and they exchanged a level gaze that Gabby didn’t understand.

“You didn’t want mines, did you?” Laremos asked suddenly.

“No. The RPGs will be enough, and Drago can jury-rig a mine if he has to. I want to get in and get out fast.”

“The rainy season hasn’t started, at least,” Laremos said. “That will be a bonus.”

“Yes, it will. Have you still got my crossbow?”

“Above the mantel in my study.” Laremos smiled. “It is a conversation piece.”

“To hell with that, does it still work?”

“Yes.”

“A crossbow?” Gabby laughed. “Is it an antique?”

J.D. shook his head. “Not quite.”

“Is it easier to shoot than a bow and arrow?” she asked, pursuing the subject.

He looked uncomfortable. “It’s just a memento,” he said. “Gabby, did you pack some jeans and comfortable shoes?”

“Yes, as you saw in Italy.” She sighed, beginning to feel uneasy. “How long will we be here?”

“Probably no more than three days, if things go well,” he replied. “We need a little time to scout the area and make a plan.”

“The hospitality of my
finca
is at your disposal,” Laremos said. “Perhaps we might even make time to show Gabby some of the Maya ruins.”

Her eyes lit up. “Really?”

“Don’t mention archaeological ruins around her, please,” J.D. muttered. “She goes crazy.”

“Well, I like old things,” she retorted. “Why else would I work for you?”

J.D. looked shocked. “Me? Old?”

She studied his face. It wasn’t heavily lined, but there was a lot of silver at his temples mingling with his black hair. She frowned. She’d always assumed he was pushing forty, but now she wondered.

“How old are you, J.D.?” she asked.

“Thirty-six.”

She gasped.

“Not what you expected?” he asked softly.

“You…seem older.”

He nodded. “I imagine so. I’ve got thirteen years on you.”

“You needn’t sound so smug,” she told him. “When I’m fifty, you’ll hate those extra thirteen years.”

“Think so?” he murmured, smiling.

She glanced away from that predatory look. “Tell me about Guatemala, Señor Laremos.”

“Diego, please,” he said, correcting her. “What would you like to know?”

“Anything.”

He shrugged. “Things have been better since the peace agreement in ’96 and the increase in foreign trade, but the people are still poor and the crime high. Guatemala has become a major transport route for drugs and human smuggling, which has not earned us a good reputation on the international stage.”

She looked shocked. “Will things get better?”

“We hope so. But in the meantime, those who wish to secure their land and loved ones must have security. Mine is excellent. But many do not have the financial wherewithal to hire guards. I have a neighbor who gets government troops to go with him every afternoon to check his cattle and his holdings. He is afraid to go alone.”

“I’ll never grumble about paying income taxes again,” Gabby said. “I guess we tend to take it for granted that we don’t have to defend our property and families with guns.”

“Perhaps someday we will be able to say the same thing.”

Gabby was quiet for the rest of the trip, while J.D. and Laremos discussed things she couldn’t begin to understand. Military terms. Logistics. She studied her taciturn employer with new eyes. There was more than he was telling her. It had something to do with the past he never discussed, and he was obviously reluctant to share any of it with her. Trust, again. At least he trusted her enough to let her handle the communications for this insane rescue attempt. If only he’d let those men go into the jungle and stay behind himself. Maybe she could talk him into it. It was a job for a professional soldier, not a lawyer. She closed her eyes and began to think up things to say, knowing in her heart that J.D. wasn’t going to be swayed by any of them.

Chapter Four

D
espite Gabby’s unvoiced fears, they went through customs with no hitches, and minutes later were met by a man J.D. obviously knew.