Under Fire (9 page)

Olivia hastily spread out the sheets and settled in. She listened to the storm and Rico’s rhythmic breathing and thought about her attraction to him. Sure, he was insanely good looking but there was more. Since Danny’s death, she’d erected a damn good security barrier to keep men at arm’s length. Yet, Rico breached it easily. He’d walked right up, stepped right through. That was done. No more breaching. She turned her back to him. From here on it was strictly business.

The business of getting Danny’s killer. Tomorrow he
would
answer her questions about Silva.

“Hey.” Olivia poked Rico’s shoulder between two eggplant-purple bruises. He didn’t move. She poked him harder.

“Hmmm.”

“Get up. Coffee’s made.” She moved her cup of steaming brew back and forth near his nose. He opened one eye. “Time to talk.”

Rico ran a hand over his chin. “After I get coffee and a shower we’ll talk.”

“Coffee, yes. Shower, no. Talk now.” He gave her a sharp look, threw the sheet back and sat. Anger radiated from him.

“Don’t tell me what to do.”

It was clear he wasn’t a morning person.

“You don’t like what I do, you can leave anytime.” His tone brought up her anger.

“You know I’m not going to do that.”

“Yeah,” he said.

Morning person or no, he didn’t need to use that tone with her. She bumped his knee with her leg. “It’s time we talk about why I came here with you. Talk about a plan.”

Without a word he went to the shower and turned on the water. He gave her a glance over his shoulder and she gave him a fine view of her middle finger.

He was showered, dressed and pouring a cup of coffee in less than ten minutes. About the time it took her to cool off.

“Call your handler.”

“I will as soon as you’re back in Jacksonville.” He drank from the cup watching her over the rim.

“No. I’m not going anywhere until Silva is arrested and we find the informer.”

He rested his butt against the counter and said nothing.

“What the fuck is going on?”

He said nothing.

“Something you should know about me, Cortes.” She forced her anger back and settled into a deep calm. “I don’t give up. I’m not going anywhere.”

“This isn’t up to you. I’ve decided.”

“You’ve decided?”

“I’m not letting you get involved in this. It’s too dangerous. Go back to Jax and I’ll see your name is cleared.”

“
Letting
me get involved?” She wanted to knock his smug look into the next county. “Who died and left you in charge?”

“I’m glad you understand I’m the one in charge here. You—” he put the cup down, “—are going back to Jacksonville. Today. Get your stuff.”

Olivia blistered him with every obscene word she knew. “You are in charge of nothing. Especially not me. Those drug people—” she pointed outside, “—think you are dead. Your own agency probably does too. You have no idea who the informant is. How the fuck do you think you can do this by yourself?”

“I can’t. I’m going in.”

That gut punched her and it took her a moment to respond. “No. If you go in it will take months for another undercover to get inside. That means months, maybe years before these people are stopped. And worse more officers could die. I can help you.”

He folded his arms and snorted. “What do you think you can do?”

“You
think of something.
I’ll
do it.” She took a step toward him.

Rico shook his head. “It’s too risky.”

“Risky? You arrogant SOB. By coming here I’ve already risked my career. You being a hot shot undercover won’t make any difference.” She kept advancing. “I’ve impeded a federal investigation by not telling my commanding officer and the feds I know you. My CO and friends have covered for me, putting their own jobs on the line.” Olivia was inches from him. He straightened, puffing up, as if his size would intimidate and stop her.

“Thanks to you my career is going down the tube.” She wasn’t about to tell him her career didn’t matter. Although the thought of leaving the Coast Guard in handcuffs was not what she envisioned. She
did
care about the shit that would come down on Anderson and her crew for helping.

“I meant dangerous for—”

“Shut up.
You—”
she stabbed his chest with her index finger, “—broke into my house.
You—”
another stab, “—asked me for help.
You—”
a more vigorous jab, “—brought me here. Deal with it.”

“I know what I did.” He grabbed her prodding finger. “I was wrong to involve you.”

He almost sounded as if he meant it. “Too late, Rico. The bullet’s left the gun. You can’t get it back. I’m here, in this as deep as you are. Until I get Silva I’m not going anywhere.”

“Are you crazy?” He moved away from her. “This is a major drug syndicate we’re talking about.” He raked his hands through his hair, pulling it from his face, to give her the full angry man look. “They’ve murdered four experienced undercover agents and tried to kill me. Those agents were good and still they were discovered.” Rico paced the room. “You have no training or experience. What chance do you think you have?” He stopped and gave her a sharp look. “Or, did you think you would come down here, rub up against the biggest criminal in the world, give him a blow job and he’d tell you everything you want to know?”

“You won’t help me?”

“I never intended to help you. I was using you to get back here and find out what you knew.”

They stood inches apart, glaring at each other. Olivia took a step back. Then another. She retrieved her duffle, tossed it on the bed, silently gathered the few things she’d brought and stuffed them in.

“Are you going back to Jax?”

“No.”

He moved close. “What are you going to do?”

“I’m going to the cops.” She zipped the bag and turned. “Tell them everything you’ve told me. I’m going to tell them where this place is and who you are. I’m going to tell them you’re a DEA agent taking money from the cartel, working both sides. I might even suggest
you
are the informer. Once you’re out of the way I’m going to find a way to get to Silva myself.” She reached for the bag, but Rico caught her arm.

“The hell you are.”

“How are you going to stop me? Knock me out? Chain me up? Then what?” He was hurting her arm. She wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of knowing by pulling away. “The way I see it, you can’t afford to let me go. You can’t make me a prisoner here. You’d eventually be charged with false imprisonment, kidnapping and spend the rest of your life behind bars. I’d see to it.

“You can’t intimidate me, Rico.” She snapped her arm out of his grip and fought the urge to rub where he’d held her. “I’m not afraid of you. What’s it going to be? You and I working together to get Silva. Or…” She shrugged.

The skin on his jaw tightened, the muscles at the joint bunched. Veins in his neck bulged. His chest rose and fell in rhythm with his hard breathing. She waited, holding her ground.

He remained silent. She lifted the bag.

“Stay,” he muttered and walked away.

“I’ll give you an hour to come up with a plan.” She said to his back.

He stopped. The muscles across his back rippled and his upper arms flexed as he clenched and unclenched his fists.

“Did you hear me?”

“An hour,” he said grimly.

Olivia took deep calming breaths and rubbed her arm where he’d gripped her. She would have to be careful. Gauge what and how she said things. Rico was a loner. Used to making all the decisions. Being forced to do what she wanted was a hard pill to swallow. He needed time to get accustomed to including her.

He had an hour. If she had him pegged right, he wouldn’t wait a minute.

Son of a bitch.
He hadn’t seen that coming, and now he was in a hell of a fix. Rico couldn’t put her inside. They’d eat her for lunch. He couldn’t shackle her to the wall either. And…he had no doubt she meant what she said about going to the cops and blowing everything.
Fuck it!
The thought of giving up now, when he was so close, killed him. He took a quick glance at Olivia. If there was any chance she could help find the informer…

“I have a plan.”

She said nothing.

“Did you hear me? I said I have a plan.”

“I heard you. The question is, can I believe you came up with a plan in ten seconds?”

“All right.” He went to her. “There might be a way to get you inside. It’s dangerous.”

She crossed her arms. “What I do for a living is dangerous.”

“Not up close, personal and in your face dangerous.”

“Stop the drama and tell me.”

A familiar tickle hit the back of his throat. His internal warning system. The fucking problem was that he didn’t know if it was a warning to keep her here or send her away.

He wanted this bad. But the thought of her being with Silva, being found out and hurt, tied his gut in knots.

He realized she’d said something. “What?”

“I said, are you going to tell me what this plan is? Or do I leave?”

He poured a cup of coffee, dropped onto a kitchen chair and motioned for her to join him. Then he told her everything.

“Do you think you can do it?”

“It seems straightforward, easy. Sure, I can do it.”

“Not easy.” He shook his head. “Don’t think Silva will be a pushover. He won’t tell you everything you want to know because you’re beautiful.”

The corners of her mouth lifted in a tiny smile at his remark, and his belly churned. “Questions?”

“Yes.” She traced the outline of a painted leaf on the table. “Why do you think it’s possible your boss would be involved?”

“I’m covering all the bases. It’s not unheard of. If a UC doesn’t follow guidelines, anything can happen.”

“You don’t follow guidelines?”

More than once he’d been warned about his outlaw attitude, told he was blurring the line between the job and the drug world. “I’ve bent the rules occasionally.” He’d done more than bend them on this case—and may have forced his own agency to take him out.

“What you’re—we’re—doing…is it bending or breaking?”

Rico looked away then back. “Oh, it’s definitely breaking.” He swept a hand over the table as if wiping crumbs away. “If this works, it will be worth it.”

“What now?” she asked.

“Now we play show and tell. I need you to tell me a few things and then I’m going to show you something.”

She gave him a narrow look. “Keep it in your pants, big boy. I’ve already seen it.”

“Get your mind out of my pants.” He reached out and covered her hand with his. “Tell me…Will anyone besides the feds come looking for you?”

Olivia wasn’t ready for that. She thought it over. “No one but Sam. He wouldn’t even know. Even if he could up and leave the ship it would be days before he got here.”

Rico leaned across the table, his dark eyes locking on hers. “A lover?”

She shook her head vehemently.

“Anyone on your crew? Think.”

“No. Why would they?”

“Crews are loyal. Have you ever helped one in trouble?”

She nodded.

“Which one?”

“All of them.”

“Fuck. Big or little help?”

She shrugged. “Not much. One was messing up his marriage. I helped him see the error of his ways. Another’s brother died in Iraq. He did some stupid shit. I bailed him out and kept it quiet. The other one wasn’t cutting it as a pilot. I called in some favors and had him assigned as my copilot.”

“Not much? Jee-sus.” Rico flopped back in the chair and blew out a loud breath. “It’s a wonder they aren’t here already.”

“You really think they’ll look for me?”

“Would you come for one of them?”

“Yes.” Rico was right, crews were loyal. More than that, they were family.
Family.
She gnawed on her lip. Captain Anderson would have called her mother by now. Olivia flinched. That must have been one hell of a conversation. Officially her mother could not be involved. Unofficially she would be aiding and abetting any search.

“Anything else?”

Olivia shook her head. She wasn’t ready to tell him her mother was the most powerful woman in the Coast Guard.

“Let’s go downstairs.”

Rico went to yet another control panel and punched a code on the keypad. The lock released, and Olivia jumped back when steel plates on the floor began separating to reveal steps to a hidden room.

The old garage had used bay wells, areas cut out like mini basements, where mechanics could stand below the car to work on the undercarriage. Rico had connected the three wells and covered them with steel plates, creating a hidden room. He descended the narrow steps. She hesitated, craning her neck to see what was below. He stopped and offered her his hand. “Come on, it’s safe.”

Ignoring his hand, she followed cautiously.

“What the bloody hell?” she said.

Rico stood silently, giving Olivia time to take in everything. The arsenal took up most of one wall. Shelves, cabinets and drawers filled with equipment and supplies necessary for his survival filled two walls. A Ducati motorcycle stood in one corner next to a worktable filled with tools.

“What is all of this, your James Bond room?”

“You could say that. It’s my backup.” He opened cabinets, took out a pill bottle and downed a Percocet. “In here I have weapons, computers, transportation, medical supplies, money and anything else I might need for my survival. Things we’ll need to complete this job.”

Olivia ran her fingers across several of the weapons on the counter and shelf. “Where’s your toothbrush radio and exploding briefcase?”

He ignored the comment. “You know how to use any of these guns?”

“Umm.” She nodded. “All of them.”

“What? The Coast Guard taught you how to use these?”

“Nope.” She continued to finger the weapons. “A private aerial combat school in California.”

“You’re shitting me.”

She didn’t answer.

“Sounds like a cover name for a mercenary school.”

“It is.”

“The Coast Guard sent you to mercenary high?” he asked incredulously.

“No. Paid for it myself.” She went to the motorcycle, threw a long leg over and sat.

“Why?”

“I was flying rescue helos in Hawaii. The CG announced they would begin flying the Stingray helicopters—heavily armed and loaded with high tech stuff. They’d be used along coasts against drug smugglers and terrorists.” She ran her hands over the bike, stopping at thick webbing strips. “What are these for?”

“To hoist it out of here. There’s a wench in the bay above it.”

Olivia looked up.

“Don’t change the subject. Why did you want mercenary training?”

“I told you, to get into the Stingray.”

“That the chopper you were flying when you rescued me?”

“Nope. The next generation. The Dolphin. And, it’s a helo not a chopper.” She paused. “Tupperwolf isn’t equipped for rescue.”

“Tupperwolf the guy that came in the water?”

“No.” She smiled. “It’s a nickname for the Dolphin. The guy was Defoe. He risked his life going in the water to help you.”

Rico nodded. “I know. He gave me his vest. Said you had no way to pull us aboard and were low on fuel. A rescue chop—helo was less than ten minutes away. So, mercenary training?”

“The Guard was getting eight birds to fly interdiction missions. I knew the competition would be fierce. All Coastie pilots are good, if not phenomenal. I needed an edge to get into one of those birds. That school teaches unorthodox helicopter flight methods among other things.”

He folded his arms across his chest and whistled.

“The ‘other things’ being weapons?”

She shrugged. “They taught weapons, self defense methods and survival. The course was a month long, 24/7. I had to live at the facility. I took leave.”

“So, what? You take a certificate from mercenary high to your commanding officer and say ‘look what I can do’?” He laughed.

She gave him a disgusted look. “My certificate says I am a qualified bodyguard. That I’m highly qualified in helicopter operations—everything from a little passenger helicopter to the civilian version of a Blackhawk. I am skilled in volatile combat situations and making rescues.”

“I’m impressed,” he said. “All of this helped you get what you wanted?”

“Yes. That and the fact my…I…” She stopped.

“Go on,” he coaxed, taking a step closer.

“I’m being used by command as a kind of poster girl for the Coast Guard. They like that I’m aggressive and—and okay to look at.” She shrugged. “It was good PR. Frankly I didn’t care what the reason was as long as I got what I wanted.” She left the bike and went back to the counter, picking up a Sig Sauer and sighting down the barrel.

“I’m good at what I do, Rico. I don’t have to apologize for anything.”

He suppressed a sharp need to haul her close and kiss her long and hard. Instead he touched her arm.

“I saw the way you flew that night. Thanks.”

The corners of her mouth tweaked and his heart rate kicked up.
Crap.
How did she do that to him?

“I want to talk about the plan again.”

“Olivia, I’ve got a headache thinking about this. The only real chance we have has you as the main player. If you want to back out, tell me now.”

“No! I don’t want to back out. It’s just…I think your plan is weak. I can’t see how a man like Silva will simply let a woman walk in off the street, into his life, and tell her all his secrets. Or even let her
near
his secrets because—as you put it—‘she rubs up against him and gives him a blow job.’ I think I should do business with him. Say I want to buy drugs.”

There was a long silence between them.

“You’re right, my plan is weak.
You
going in, asking to make a buy, is stupid and dangerous.”

“I can do it.” After several moments, she spoke again. “If you won’t help me, I’ll do it on my own. If I can’t bring him down, I’ll kill him.”

“Stop threatening me, Olivia.” She moved toward the steps. Rico blocked the way and held her arm. “I want Silva as bad as you do. But I want you to be sure. Once you get inside it will be as dangerous to quit as it will be to stay.”

“I am very sure.” She said the words very deliberately.

He hoped he wasn’t going to regret this. Who was he kidding? He already regretted it. But—
damn it
—with her inside the cartel, they had a chance. The best they could hope for was to shut some of the operation down and discover who was giving up agents. Silva was too careful. Getting him behind bars was never going to happen.

“Tell me what mercenary high taught you to do when things go wrong.” He needed to be sure about her training.

“In the air or on the ground?”

Again he was impressed. “Ground. Tell me what you do in a capture situation.”

She sat on the stool, silent for a moment. “Of course, best thing is not to be taken. Am I by myself or is the person I’m protecting with me?”

Rico smiled. “By yourself.”

“Chaos theory—what can go wrong, will. Eat when you can, even if you think the food may be drugged. Sleep every minute you can. You need energy for an escape and during a rescue. When you make an escape plan, think of everything that can go wrong. Prepare for the worst. Look for the most difficult avenues of escape. They are less likely to be guarded. Attack first, don’t wait to be attacked.” She paused thoughtfully. “Most 9mm hand guns take the same ammo, some the same magazine. No guns available, find something, anything, to use before you have to use your hands. The longer the better. When you’re close enough to strike with a hand you’re in real danger of injury yourself.”

“Tell me what you can use as a weapon.”

“Basically anything. Phone and electrical cords can be used to strangle, trip and tie up. A rolled up newspaper, a magazine is better, jabbed into the Adam’s apple, nose or eye can kill. Soft tissue places are best. Never the balls—unless it’s too good to pass up.” She grinned. “If you grasp an earlobe and pull upward hard enough, the ear will come off like you’re unzipping it from the head—” she raised and lowered a shoulder, “—so I’m told. Never use a knife over-handed. Thrust underhanded like a softball pitch. Just here.” She touched herself below the breast. “The blade goes in and up into the heart. I learned three different ways to break a neck.”

“Go on,” he prodded.

“Leave a trail.”

“No, you don’t want anyone tracking you down.”

“Not that kind of trail. Signs you were there. Fingerprints up high. Prick a finger, smear blood, wipe it up. Luminol will pick it up later. Bite marks in wood or leather surfaces are good to leave also. If you’re BNR, at least your last location will be known.”

“BNR?”

“Body not recovered,” she said softly.

Those words sent a ripple of uneasiness through him. “Okay, you’ve been trained. Have you ever
used
the training?”

“A couple of guys who wouldn’t take no for an answer. And, I recall taking you down a few days ago.”

“I meant to defend your life.”

She shook her head.

“You have to ask yourself, will you be able to do what it takes when the time comes? And don’t doubt it will come.”

“I understand. I think I can do it.”

“No! You need to
know
you can do it.”

“Rico, I won’t
know
until I’m in the situation.”

He nodded, understanding it was the best she could give him at the moment. “Let’s get down to business and start working on details.” He removed a 9mm from the wall and broke it down for cleaning. For the first time in this job, he trusted someone. He began telling Olivia everything he knew about Silva’s operation.

“What do you think?” he asked, eyeing her carefully.

“I won’t be able to waltz in there and say I want to buy drugs with no proof I have the money. How do we handle that?”

“Smart lady. It is a problem. I can get into an account with about a hundred and fifty thousand. It’s an agency fund set up for me to look and live the part. I have over fifty grand in cash here. But if you showed Silva an account with a hundred fifty grand he would laugh at you, use you, then feed you to the fish.”

“How much do you need?” she asked in a soft voice.

“Seven hundred thousand would be nice. To make you look good we need more like a million. Might as well be five million. We have—”

“I can get nine hundred.”

“We can’t wait until you sell everything. We’ll need it before you go inside. And selling—”

“I can have it today if I can get on the net,” she interrupted, again.

Rico choked. “Where? I mean, how could you get that much cash today?” He was sure she was putting him on.

“I have it.”

“Olivia, we’d have to set up an offshore account then transfer money from your account. If the feds are looking for you—” and he was pretty damn sure they were, “—they’ll have a watch on your bank accounts.”

“It’s in an offshore account in Grand Cayman.” She shot him a look. “Close your mouth. You look silly.”

“What are
you
doing with an offshore account?” he managed to ask.

She clucked her tongue. “For something exactly like this. I wanted fast access if I needed to pay somebody for information. And I wanted it close, so if needed, I could fly down and back in a day.”

“Okay,” he drawled. “Next question is, where did that money come from?”

“Danny’s insurance. He had some stocks. And, before you ask, yes I do pay taxes on it.”

“Sorry, wasn’t being…”

They both fell silent.

“Can you wire the hundred grand out of your agency account?”

“Why?”

“We open a new account for you and transfer the agency money there. We open another account for me to use. You transfer your hundred in and I transfer my nine hundred. We have the million for Silva to verify. That should be enough for a down payment and to make him think I’m serious.”

“Olivia, you could lose it all. You should count on losing it. You prepared for that?”

“Yes. The money means nothing.”

Rico scratched his jaw. It could work. A thrill of excitement spread through him. He had a real chance to get the bastard that ratted him and the other undercovers out.

“If someone in the DEA gave you up, transferring the money could tip that person off.”

She did catch on fast. If it was someone inside the agency, they were screwed.

“Yes.” Rico massaged his temples. “And there’s more to think about. More to talk about before we go further.”

“Say it.”

Rico glanced at her. He’d never worked with a partner and trusted no one completely. Yet, here he was working with her, trusting her. She exuded confidence. This was the reason she’d been promoted so fast. Not because she was being used as a poster girl.
She has what it takes.
He slid the stool close and patted it. “Sit. There are a lot of possibilities on who set me up. One—” he held up an index finger and began ticking them off, “—my handler. Two, someone else at the DEA. Three, we share a database with other federal agencies, giving them access to undercovers operating in the area. Only a few people with high security clearances have access. Four—and what I consider least likely—is somehow Silva’s crew found me out.”

“But why? I would think that would be the
most
likely.”

Rico shook his head. “Until I saw the timer on the boat, I had no reason to think I’d been made. I was away from Miami for a week. I was made during that time.”

“How can you be sure it was then?”

“You said you were good at what you do. So am I.
If
Silva was suspicious about me I would have seen or felt something. My gut says it’s someone in another agency accessing undercover files then feeding information to Silva.”

“So, what exactly are you telling me?”

“Come here.” He did a Google search for his name and Trini’s. A lot of results but nothing relating to the explosion. Next, he searched
Coast Guard drug bust
and
explosion
with the date. Several results from newspaper and TV station pages.

“They have the story but no names. Right now I’m presumed dead. Once I transfer this money I begin leaving a trail.”

“How long do you think before it’s discovered?”

He shrugged. “Three days to two weeks, and another couple of days before it gets to Silva, depending on who the rat bastard fink is and how lucky we are.”