Under the Wire (22 page)

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Authors: Cindy Gerard

Tags: #Fiction, #Romance, #Suspense

BOOK: Under the Wire
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Just like he'd known they would come. Had counted on the cadre of rebel forces to be curious about the single-engine airplane that had landed, then taken off, all in a matter of minutes.

 

"Take me to Ponnambalam Ramanathan," he said in Tamil.

 

As Dallas had hoped, just the mention of their revered leader's name drew exaggerated looks of curiosity.

 

"Take me now," he repeated more forcefully, "and may your God have mercy on your souls if you put a bullet in the man Ponnambalam Ramanathan calls brother."

 

As they motioned for him with their guns to start walking, Dallas prayed that Ramanathan was still alive and, if he was, that he wasn't still pissed about that little matter of a "bungled" arms deal in Afghanistan three years ago.

 

 

 

Manny's SAT phone rang just as he pulled up to a gas pump in Marassana. On the map, it wasn't more than a tiny ink dot. In reality, "tiny" was an exaggeration. The main street was narrow. On either side were houses made of brown mud walls topped with thatch roofs. Surrounding and towering over the houses were green gardens and greener trees.

 

A peddler, the back of his bicycle full of toys, napped in the shade of a banyan tree, its gnarled roots worn bone gray and smooth by centuries of human traffic. A dog sat on its haunches beside the bicycle, vigorously scratching its ribs. Other than that, not much life stirred.

 

"Ortega," Manny said into the receiver as he surveyed a roadside fruit stand, what appeared to be a tourist information center, and this single petrol pump. Overhead, the sky had turned gunmetal dark.

 

"We've got a lead on something solid." Ethan was all business on the other end of the line.

 

"Go." Manny listened without another word, aware of Lily's dark eyes, anxious and intent, as she waited to hear not only if it was Dallas or Ethan, but also what he had to say.

 

Manny waited until Ethan finished before filling him in on their location.

 

"Wait a sec." Manny could hear Ethan relaying the information to Darcy. "She says that according to her map, you're half a day from there if you stick to the highways. A couple of hours if you go off road."

 

Manny motioned for Lily to hand him the map. When she held it out to him, he spread it open over the steering wheel and got a fix on the coordinates Ethan had given him.

 

"Okay. Got it. I'll be back in touch."

 

"Watch your six, man. We're heading your way. Can't be more than three hours behind you. Don't do anything until we get there."

 

"Roger that."

 

Manny disconnected.

 

"What?" Lily hitched herself sideways in the passenger seat and searched his eyes.

 

She hadn't had much to say to him since he'd made his little confession. In fact, they'd ridden in silence until now.

 

"Darcy and Ethan took a chance on meeting with a local politician in Kandy," he said, understanding Lily's focus was all on Adam now. "She played the diplomacy card, conveniently forgetting to mention that her position in the State Department was inactive and her last post was Manila, not Colombo.

 

"The offshoot was she got a meeting with a city councilwoman who was sympathetic to your situation and, swearing she'd deny it if asked, slipped Darcy the name and cell number of a covert operative who has extensive, real-time intel on Tiger activity in this area.

 

"Long story short," he said after handing her the map and pinpointing the location Ethan had given him for her, "they've been in contact with the operative and he gave them a fix on the biggest known Tiger camp in the area."

 

Lily checked the location on the map, brows furrowed in impatience. "That's hours from here."

 

"We can take a chance," he said, "and cut across country. If this piece of shit holds up we can cut the time in half."

 

"Then that's what we do," she said adamantly.

 

Manny wasn't nearly as certain as she was. He jumped out of the jeep, opened up the hood. The tape was still holding on the hose. He checked the oil—two quarts low—then headed inside the small station hoping there'd be something other than bottled water, rice, and curry for sale.

 

"Aah-yu-boh-wahn?"
Hello?

 

The place smelled of incense and curry and gas and wasn't much bigger than a phone booth lined with tar-paper, with a very few auto supplies and bottled water. A small, wrinkled man who seemed to perfectly fit the confines of the aged wooden structure popped up from behind a counter where it appeared he'd been taking a morning nap.

 

"Aah-yu-boh-wahn," he greeted Manny with a sheepish grin that revealed widely split front teeth. As was the custom, he gave Manny a courteous bow.

 

Manny also bowed. "Thel?"
Oil?

 

There was much head shaking and several attempts before Manny conveyed that he was looking for motor oil, not cooking or lamp oil.

 

Finally, with two quarts in hand, he returned to the jeep. "Why don't you buy some of that fruit while we've got the chance at something fresh?" He dug into his hip pocket for his wallet and handed Lily some bills.

 

While he added the oil and refilled the radiator, she headed for the fruit stand. The wind whipped up; a few splatters of rain hit the dust around her feet as Manny watched her walk away.

 

He couldn't take his eyes off the no-nonsense jut of her chin. The slight sway of her slim hips that even her baggy shirt and pants couldn't conceal.

 

When I look at you, Liliana... I can only think of having you. And if I can have you, then nothing else matters.

 

He dusted off his hands, walked inside, and paid for the oil and gas, still burned with himself over what he'd admitted to her. What he'd admitted to himself.

 

And no matter that he tried to ignore them,
her
words packed even more punch. He heard them over and over in his head.

 

I could maybe
understand a boy rationalizing such a load of crap. But you're a man now. An intelligent man. With a man's experience. A man's head, for God's sake. A man's heart. Can you look at me and honestly think I could have done such a heinous, horrible thing?

 

Standing in the open doorway of the petrol station, he tipped back a bottle of water, all the while watching Lily finish up her purchases beneath a sudden downpour.

 

She was right about one thing. His life back then had been filled with trickery and deceit. He'd lived it. Breathed it. Almost died because of it. And yes, it had colored his perceptions. Still did. There were few men he trusted. Fewer women.

 

He wanted to believe her... but what other explanation was there? Who else would have turned him in? Who else knew? His Contra brothers whom he fought with against the Sandinistas every day? No. They would not have turned against him. They would have died for him—and he for them.

 

Just as swiftly as it came up, the rain stopped, leaving behind the damp-dust scent of ozone. He tossed the empty water bottle in a refuse bin and stepped outside, still thinking about what Lily had said.

 

She was so passionate in her denial. So determined to convince him he was wrong about her.

 

And if he was wrong, did that also mean she was right about him? Was it still the boy reacting? The boy who'd lost his love, lost his home and his family, and needed to lash out at the one who caused him pain? Was it the boy who had lived, breathed, and dreamed the nightmare of her betrayal who demanded that the man not give himself permission to believe her?

 

Thoughtful, he walked back to the jeep, shut the hood, and washed the windshield.

 

Had the Sandinista soldiers lied about Lily? Had Poveda discovered their affair? Manny had seen the way Poveda had watched Lily the night they met. He understood exactly what had been on the general's mind. That's why Manny had been so ready to believe Lily was Poveda's lover. But she insisted they weren't involved. Maybe that was Manny's answer. Poveda had wanted her. Wanted her so much that maybe he'd come for Manny out of jealousy, not even knowing that Manny was working against him.

 

Or was it someone else? For the first time, Manny allowed himself to seriously consider a possibility that had been swirling like smoke in the back of his mind since Lily had first claimed her innocence.

 

Cougar. The CIA operative was known for going to extreme lengths to get what he wanted. He'd wanted Manny for some time. Every time they'd met, Cougar had tried to talk Manny into going to the States, to become an elite soldier, then return and fight the fight.

 

In the end, that's exactly what Cougar had gotten. Could he have orchestrated Manny's arrest, banking on Manny escaping and coming to him for help?

 

God.
He didn't know. And now wasn't the time to sort it all out. Later. There would be time later. After they found his son.

 

And they would find him, Manny resolved with the single-minded conviction that had kept him alive in Nicaragua and Afghanistan. And on the streets of Boston, another, but just as deadly, type of war zone.

 

He was ready to go when Lily came back with bananas, cashews, and mangosteens, a sweet, apple-sized reddish-yellow fruit that tasted like a combination of strawberries and grapes. Her white camp shirt was plastered to her lush body; her dark hair, which she'd woven into a single, thick braid somewhere along the way, was damp and glistening from the brief shower.

 

A single rain droplet rode the ridge of her cheekbone, hovering on porcelain skin the sun had kissed to a rose petal pink.

 

She was so fucking beautiful.

 

Men grew distinguished. Women just grew wrinkles.

 

One of his lovers had once said that. She had been wrong. At least she'd been wrong about a woman like Lily. The seventeen years, yes, they'd changed her, aged her, but there was a soft sensuality to her body now, a body that had always been lush and responsive and honed with the demands of her work. He'd loved her body then. He craved her body now.

 

The small, fine lines around her eyes should have detracted from her beauty, he supposed. Instead, they added a lived-in grace, a wisdom born of experience. In spite of the stress she was under, regardless that her face was free of makeup that would soften and hide imperfections, she looked more beautiful than he had even remembered.

 

When I look at you, Liliana ... I can only think of having you.

 

He had never spoken a greater truth. And he had to get past it.

 

"Manny, about what you said earlier—"

 

"Forget it," he said, cutting her off.

 

He had to think. He had to focus. And he couldn't do either when she looked at him that way.

 

"Better put on more sunblock," he said, and stowed some extra containers of bottled water in the backseat.

 

Avoiding her puzzled eyes, he climbed back behind the wheel. A bad sunburn might be the least of what happened to her if they encountered the rebel stronghold. He'd already come up with a contingency plan for that.

 

"Here's the route I think will work best." He spread the map out on the seat between them as the sun broke through the clouds and the early-morning shower rumbled on to the north.

 

"I'll leave the navigation to you," she said after a moment in which she must have decided to leave well enough alone. "Let's just get going."

 

"We need to talk about that. Darcy and Ethan shouldn't be more than three hours behind us." He checked his watch. "Maybe four. When they arrive, you need to be here to intercept them—"

 

"Whoa." She held up a hand. Pinned him with a look. "Don't even think about it. I'm going with you."

 

"Lily, someone has to—"

 

"Steer Ethan in the right direction? Get serious. Ethan Garrett doesn't need anyone to get him where he needs to go. So if this is some lame attempt to keep me out of harm's way, it's not going to work."

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