Under Fire (21 page)

Olivia climbed out of the Jag, took two steps toward the parked limo and stopped. One of Silva’s goons motioned her to stay where she was. She stood, her legs spread in an at ease stance, hands clasped in front.

Two men appeared from the darkness to her right and another came from behind the limo. Alarm crept through her. Sweat trickled between her breasts. The insanity of the whole thing hit her. What if Rico was right and Silva knew who she was? Her shoulder twitched. Fuck Rico. The only person she could depend on was herself.

She retreated to a safe place in her mind, imagining flying low over the glistening water. The big man to her right moved, bringing her back to the moment. The door to the club opened, releasing the throbbing sounds of Cuban music into the damp night air. Backlit by pulsing light, Silva motioned to her. Another man emerged behind him.

Liquid nitrogen replaced the blood in her veins and she couldn’t move. She recognized the man. He was one of the three agents from the mission briefing the night they rescued Rico. The blond, muscular, good-looking guy. A California surfer type.
Shit.
Rapidly she played out scenarios. Was he UC or the informer? Had he recognized her? Would he remember who she was?

They walked toward her. She stepped into the pale glow cast from the overhead vapor lights. The blond touched Silva’s arm, bringing him up short. For a moment he stared intently at Olivia. Spellbound she watched the agent speak to Silva, who turned his gaze toward her. Even the darkness of the parking lot couldn’t hide the murderous look on his face. The blond had given her up.

She was screwed and tattooed.

Stay calm.
Rico’s words played in her head.
Play it the way it falls. You have good instincts, you’ll know what to do.

Olivia commanded her legs to take her to the Jag. Ignoring every instinct to climb in, turn the keys and speed away, she reached inside and grabbed her purse and bag. She’d been waiting for this for too long to turn and run. She slammed the door hard and dropped the bag at her feet. The H&K in her purse was now tucked in her hand. Silva hadn’t moved, hadn’t acknowledged her.

“Alvaro, I’m ready,” she called out.

He said nothing. The blond waved his arm. The limo’s engine caught and the driver moved it slowly toward her, stopping a few feet away. Silva and the man walked her way. The two henchmen on her right advanced. Both armed, one held a semi-automatic rifle, the other a 9mm. How many could she take out before they got her? Three, maybe four.

“Put your purse down, Commander,” the man ordered.

“Alvaro, who is this man and why is he…” The blond held a gun pointed at her head. “Alvaro!”

Silva said nothing. The man holding the semi-automatic snatched the purse and the H&K away.

“What’s going on?” she demanded.

“I think you know.”

She was shoved against the Jag.

“Manny, search her.”

Manny took the search seriously.

“Check for a wire.”

“I don’t have a wire.” She pushed his hand from between her breasts.

“She don’t,” Manny agreed.

“Turn around,” Silva said.

Turning, she found Manny inches from her. Anger took over and she shoved him. “Why are your men treating me this way?”

“My friend, Mr. Baker, tells me he knows you, Olivia.” Silva lit a cigar blowing smoke in her direction.

Confirmed. The blond
was
Baker.

“I don’t know him,” she said, taking a step in Silva’s direction. Manny held her arm.

“Mr. Baker says you are a United States Coast Guard officer sworn to bring people like me to justice.”

Confirmed. Baker
was
the informant.

“I don’t know what he’s talking about.” She shrugged to free herself from Manny’s grip, but he held tight. “Tell him to let go of me.”
Never back down.

Silva nodded and Manny released her.

“Will you tell me what is going on here?”

“Get in the car, Olivia.”

She didn’t move. Behind her the big car’s engine ticked in the moist night air and a door creaked open.

“No.” She found her voice. “Not until—”

Baker twisted her arm behind her back and shoved her toward the limo. She planted her feet and reared back with her left foot, kicking his shin. He yelled, cussed and jerked her around, raising the hand holding the gun to hit her. She put her arms up, ready to defend herself.

“No,” Silva ordered. “I don’t want her…messed up.”

“What difference does it make?” Baker hissed. “We have to get rid of her. She’s seen me. She has information about your operation. Let me kill her now.”

“Mr. Baker,
don’t
tell me what to do,” Silva said, slow and very low. “I will get rid of her when I am good and ready. Not before.”

“Tell him to get his hands off me,” Olivia demanded in a voice much less authoritative than she wanted.

“Let the lady go.”

“Yes, sir,” Baker said sarcastically and released her.

She gave him an I-will-take-care-of-you-later look.

“Get in the car, Olivia.”

She started for the Jag. Manny blocked her way, gripping her arms, and she felt the barrel of Baker’s gun on her neck behind her right ear.

“I won’t ask you again to get into the car.”

When she made no move to do so, Silva nodded. The other man and Manny pushed her to the open limo door and forced her inside. Silva slid in behind her. Olivia went for the opposite door. Baker opened it, planted a hand on her shoulder and shoved her back.

“You aren’t going anywhere, bitch.” He sat, hemming her in.

The car started and her heart lurched. To her right, Baker casually gripped a 9mm in his lap. To her left, Silva crossed his legs and settled back against the soft leather seat. She was trapped, and there was nothing she could do.

She wasn’t familiar enough with the city to know what direction they were headed. No one was talking, and when she couldn’t stand the silence any longer she blurted, “Where are we going?”

Turning sideways, Silva leaned his back against the door, glaring.

“Have you forgotten I’m taking you for a cruise on my yacht?”

“You’re still taking me? But I thought…” She turned toward Baker then back to Silva. “We’re still going to do business?”

He shook his head, blowing cigar smoke in her direction. “This game is done, Commander.
We
are not doing business.”

She twisted to look out the back window.

“He isn’t coming,” Silva said.

“What? Who?”

A deep sick laugh came from Baker. “Cortes. DEA agent Cortes. After you left the hotel my man went to your room. Found a man unconscious. A man he knew. Said he looked different but it was Cortes. About now his body is being dumped in the bay. Fish food.”

Waves of nausea swept over her.

“How the fuck did you get mixed up with him?” Baker sneered.

Her mind raised the last image she had of Rico sprawled on the floor. She shook her head. Rico was dead—because of her. She closed her eyes.

“My man said he begged for his life and cried like a little girl.” Baker laughed again. “Almost as much as your brother did when I shot him.”

She lashed out with a fury that surprised even her. Her left fist broke Baker’s nose. She dropped that hand to his shoulder and dug her fingers into his flesh to lever up and over him. Forcing her knee between his legs, she ground into his balls with every ounce of force in her. He screamed and would have doubled over if she hadn’t been in his lap. The car lurched and slowed.

“Keep driving, you fool,” Silva growled, pulling on her right arm. She yanked it away to grip Baker’s other shoulder. His face was inches from hers. Olivia opened her mouth and clamped her teeth on his already broken nose and ground her knee harder into his balls. He howled with the pain.
We’ll see who cries like a little girl
.

His right fist slammed her side again and again. The seat stopped him from pulling his arm back to get a lot of power behind the punches. They still hurt. He was a strong man. She groaned, but held on, digging her teeth and fingers deeper into his flesh.

The taste of his blood in her mouth was nauseating but there was no way she’d let go. Baker gave up punching and pressed one palm against her chest, the other on her face, grunting and pushing. She clamped down harder. The more he pushed on her chest the more pain he would feel. She had every intention of ripping his nose off.

The feel of cold metal against the back of her neck caused her to go still, but not let go.

“That’s quite enough, Olivia. Let Mr. Baker go,” Silva’s even, unperturbed voice ordered. She twisted her face from side to side like a dog tearing at a bone. Baker howled.

“Now, Commander.” He emphasized the
now
pressing the gun barrel deeper into her skin. Olivia snapped her head back, releasing Baker’s nose and shoulders in one move, spitting skin and blood into his face. She fell backward onto the limo’s floor, her legs tangled under her.

“Shoot the bitch,” Baker yelled, spraying red spittle. “She fucking broke my nose.” Both hands covered the pulpy mess.

Silva swung the gun at Baker. “Don’t tell me what to do, or you will be the one I shoot.”

Seeing an opportunity to attack, Olivia grabbed Silva’s pants and pulled up. His reflexes were quick. The gun barrel pressed against her cheek before she could straighten her legs.

“I’m losing patience with you. Stay on the floor.” He applied pressure, forcing her back. His free hand pried her fingers from his pants. “I don’t want to shoot you. It is very difficult to clean a mess like that out of a car. You give me any more trouble, I will.”

Remembering what happened to the man at his estate just last night, she eased back.

Baker groaned between gasps for breath. A jacked up broken nose would do that to you. The red spreading down his white shirt sent a shaft of satisfaction through her chest. Silva tossed him napkins from the bar. Baker pressed them to his face and clutched his groin. She couldn’t suppress her smile. She hoped his balls swelled to the size of cantaloupes. Silva put his foot on her stomach and pushed.

“All the way down.”

She knew it was over and reluctantly did as ordered. Olivia replayed the last three hours. How, in the time since she left Silva, had she been discovered? Baker? But how?

She pinched her eyes closed.
Rico
. Baker said they found him unconscious and that’s how she’d left him. They either had him or he was dead. She looked at Baker, who was moaning. Why would he lie? What purpose would it serve? They’d tried to kill Rico before, and odds were they’d do it again. Sadness fell over her like a lead blanket. Baker wasn’t lying, Rico was dead.

Because of her.

No!
Not because of her. She looked at Silva. Rico and Danny were dead because of him. Cold, hard hatred quickly replaced her sadness. She would find a way to remove this monster from the earth.

She levered herself into a half-sitting position. “How did you discover me?”

After a long silence, Silva answered, “Some men at the club, asking questions, showing your picture. My man at the door brought it to me. Mr. Baker was there.” He shrugged.

Olivia closed her eyes and sighed. Her crew. A chill went through her. Rico had been right.

“Tell me, Olivia—or would you prefer I call you Commander?”

She said nothing.

After a moment Silva continued, “Why did you come to me? What made you go to such lengths to get to me? For a promotion?”

“You killed my brother.”

“Me? I’ve killed no one. Mr. Baker handled that.”

His smile enraged her and she fought back tears. “You, with the help of the malignant asshole here—” she tilted her head toward the still moaning Baker, “—killed him and other undercover officers.”

He cupped her chin, turning her head side to side.

“I see a resemblance.”

“You sick bastard.” She slapped his hand away. Silva laughed.

The limo slowed, turned and went slower still. The wheels banged up a curb, then stopped. The men exited, leaving Olivia sitting on the floor. Not knowing what to do.

Silva leaned into the car offering his hand. She needed to get out and get some fresh air. The taste of Baker’s blood in her mouth was more than she could take, but she didn’t move. As soon as she exited she would be forced to board the yacht, where she would be killed and dumped, like Danny, into the bay. At least she hoped they would dump her. She didn’t want to be taken someplace where her body would never be found.

Attacking Silva outside would get her nowhere. He was armed along with a half-dozen of his men. She made her decision.
Live to fight another day
.

“You must get out and come with me, Commander.” He sighed. “Would you prefer I have my men remove you?”

She shook her head. Ignoring his extended hand, she climbed out unassisted to find they were on a wide dock beside a small cruise ship.

“Your home—” he gestured toward the ship, “—until I am done with you.”

This was his yacht? It had to be two-hundred-fifty-feet long, maybe more. Silva held her arm and pushed her toward the yacht. Instinct took over. She elbowed him in the chest, spun away and ran…right into Manny, Silva’s body guard. The collision knocked them both off balance. He regained his footing first and grabbed Olivia in a bear hug. She couldn’t break his grip. He lifted her off her feet, walking her to Silva—until her right fist crashed against his temple.

No matter how strong a man is, the body can’t take a hard hit there. He went down without a sound, like his legs had been cut out from under him. Olivia fell with him, rolled out of his grip and scrambled to her feet.

She turned to see Silva and another man coming for her.

“Don’t hit her,” Silva commanded. “I don’t want her messed up.”

An unseen hand held her hair. Her fingers found the face that went with the hand and she dug her thumb into the eye socket. The man screamed and released her. Olivia turned to run and found a small silver cylinder inches from her face. Expecting pepper spray she jerked her head away. Too late, she heard the hiss and felt the spray on her face. No acrid odor, only a slight chemical smell, followed by a relaxing feeling. Silva’s smiling, blurred face was the last thing she saw before she fell to the dock.