Whatever It Takes (18 page)

“Where’s Marco?” Nate’s hands fisted at his sides.

“Ah, yes. The husband. Right?” Diego laughed scornfully. “You’ll get Marco after I speak with Ms. Morgan.”

“That wasn’t the deal. Nobody talks until we see the boy.” Nate turned toward Alex and grasped her arm as though to lead her back toward the gate.

“Wait.” Diego’s humor disappeared as he pivoted to face the door. He stepped inside and returned a moment later leading a small boy, his black hair falling about his shoulders, his eyes the color of dark chocolate. His gaze darted from one person to the next in terror, and he clung to Diego’s hand.

Bile rose in Alex’s throat. She’d been there—­so scared she’d formed a perverted attachment to the only constant in her life—­and Hu Sun had used her cruelly. It was all she could do to stay put when what she wanted to do was make that smirk on Diego’s face disappear. Slowly, she dragged her gaze to the boy at his side.

“Hi, Marco. My name is Alex. These are my friends, Nate and Jimmy. We’re going to take you home to your mama. How’s that sound?” She flashed him her friendliest smile, but there was no change in his frightened expression.

“Why don’t you come inside and get to know the boy. We’ll visit and then you can be on your way.” Diego pulled Marco around in front of him and gripped his shoulders.

“What the hell, Diego? We’re sticking to the agreement you made. No one is going inside.” Nate’s temper was clearly building.

The hatred and contempt in Diego’s glare was unmistakable. “Then I’m sorry to inform you that this meeting is over.” He jerked Marco toward the door so hard the boy nearly fell.

“Wait!” Alex jumped forward. She couldn’t let him take Marco. As though they’d rehearsed the movements, Nate and Jimmy reached to grab her at the same time, pulled her back, and stepped in front of her. Alex stretched to locate Marco and spotted him just as Diego dragged him across the threshold and vanished inside. No! They had to go after him.

A shot rang out and Jimmy swore violently in the same instant something warm and sticky splattered Alex’s neck and face. Blood pulsed from a ragged wound in his arm. His gun was already in his hand, and he crouched, pulling her down with him. Nate threw himself to the ground as if sliding into first base. Instantly, he scrambled to one knee and leveled his gun at the shooter. Before he could pull the trigger, however, Sanchez turned, fired, and one of the two armed guards tumbled face down in the dirt. The other guard stumbled backward, evidently not sure who to aim his weapon at.

“Drop your gun if you don’t want to die today.” Nate jumped to his feet and stood ready. Finally, the man dropped his weapon. “Get on the ground,” Nate said.

The gunman complied and Nate picked up his weapon, securing his wrists behind his back with the man’s own shoelaces.

“Get up next to the house, Alex.” Nate’s gaze swept from her to Jimmy. “There are still shooters on the roof.” Nate pushed Alex toward the covered porch, and she crouched alongside the archway. “Stay put for a minute until Jim’s set. We’ll go in together.”

She could hear the
zing
of the powerful long-­range ammunition as Walker and Rayna pinned the shooters down. Infrequently, someone on the roof would shoot back, but they must have known they had no viable target within range.

Sanchez yanked a handkerchief from his pocket and strode toward Jimmy. “Come on, man. Let’s get that bleeding stopped.”

Jimmy clutched his arm to his side as Sanchez fashioned a tourniquet and pulled it tight. Nate checked for a pulse on the gunman Sanchez had shot, shaking his head when he met Alex’s eyes over the body.

From nowhere, a shot rang out and a slug sank into the adobe not two inches from her head. Alex dropped and began to crawl toward the door as her teammates went into action. The shooter was somewhere near the west corner of the house, which explained why Walker and Rayna hadn’t seen him. He was probably alone since a larger group would have been able to rush them and do significant damage. Sanchez, Jimmy, and Nate hugged the wall and moved toward the corner, but that didn’t stop the gunman from getting off another shot, which thudded into the doorpost above Alex’s back.

She scrambled to her feet, grabbed the doorknob, yanking it toward her, and dived through the opening. She rolled on impact, coming to rest against the back of a large sofa. Suddenly realizing where she was and that she wasn’t supposed to be here by herself, she stilled to listen. There was no sound but the ticking of a clock somewhere close by.

The whole thing had dissolved into a bloodbath for no apparent reason. The gunman at the west corner had come close enough with both of his shots to unnerve her. Now she was in the house—­where Marco had disappeared with that creep Diego. Since she was already here, she might as well do a little advance scouting before the others joined her. Anything to find Marco, because he needed her help even if he didn’t know it yet.

Joe would be madder than hell that she’d ignored his instructions, but it wasn’t her fault . . . not really. She’d only ducked in here to get out of the spray of bullets outside. He would have to understand that, right? And if he didn’t? Well, that was fine too. Finding Marco was the only thing that mattered. Damned if she would mark time while God only knew what was happening to that child.

Alex pushed to her knees and peered over the sofa. Directly in front of her was a huge stone fireplace. Above the mantel hung a portrait of the bastard himself—­Diego. The artist had painted him with the same arrogant smirk that she’d come to recognize as his.
Self-­important jerk.
To the left of the fireplace, an opening to another room lay silent and still. From the blueprint she’d studied at Ramon’s, she’d learned that way led to the kitchen, which held the entrance to the basement. That’s where Nate would expect to find her, and also probably where Diego had fled with Marco. She could kill two birds with one stone.

Suddenly, the patter of small feet on the tiled floor reached her ears, and Marco ran from that opening into the room where Alex knelt. Muffled sniffling tore at her heart. No one should ever be so terrified—­least of all a child.

The boy’s gaze darted from side to side and over his shoulder. Clearly, he was searching for a place to hide before Diego caught up to him.

“Marco.” Alex whispered his name, pushed to her feet, and stepped from her hiding place. When his terrified glance fell on her, she placed a finger over her lips and then beckoned to him. “Let me help you, sweetie.” Her voice echoed loudly in the empty room.

For what seemed an eternity, the boy remained still and stared. Then he took a ­couple of wary steps toward her.

Alex smiled and advanced to meet him. “You’re doing great, Marco. Don’t be afraid of me. I won’t hurt you. Let’s get you home to your mama, shall we?”

Humorless laughter raised the hair on her arms, and she swung around. Diego leaned against a desk on the far right side of the room, his arms crossed, looking very much like his self-­portrait. She hadn’t heard him enter. Had he been there the whole time?

“I knew you’d come, Alex Morgan. Curiosity is a woman’s downfall.” Diego’s gaze raked over her and made her feel dirty. “If you’re through playing games, we can go. You and Marco have appointments with prospective buyers, and I don’t want to keep them waiting.”

For an agonizing second, Alex’s breath was cut off by the giant lump of fear in her throat. She whipped back around to Marco and held out her hand, praying she wouldn’t scare him away. “We have to go, Marco. Come with me and he’ll never hurt you again.”

Marco started to take a step toward her, but stopped when Diego laughed again. “Marco won’t run from me. I’ve trained him better than that.”

The meaning behind his words and what Marco must have suffered caused a stinging in her eyes, and she bit her lip hard so tears wouldn’t fall in front of Diego or the boy. She glared at the man as he took a step toward her, then swung back to Marco and wiggled her fingers.

A sharp jab stung her neck. More a pinprick of annoyance than anything, but when she brushed at it with her hand and jerked out the small, feathered dart, the magnitude of her mistake was obvious. Her legs wobbled out from under her first, and she fell to her knees as the room started to spin.

She tried to focus on the boy. “Marco. Listen to me. Run! Go outside. Find the men I introduced you to. Remember? They’ll help you. Trust them. Go!” Her head hung, too heavy to lift, as she braced herself up on her elbows.

“Come to me, boy.” Diego’s command vibrated through her consciousness.

Then, when she was sure she’d failed Marco, small, hurried footsteps ran from her, and the big wooden door creaked open and stayed that way.
Go, Marco!
A wisp of a smile crossed her lips before she collapsed onto the tiled floor.

Chapter 15

N
ATE’S WELL-­PLACED BULLET
ripped through one of the shooter’s knees as the man took a final shot. He went down, but apparently wasn’t ready to give up. Heavily armed, he put up quite a fight until Sanchez did a duck-­and-­roll and laid down a burst of automatic rifle fire that ended the skirmish. Nate was heading back to check on Alex when the sound of running footsteps made him pause.

Marco tore along the exterior of the house, his short legs moving impossibly fast, as though some monster only he could see was after him. Nate rushed to intercept and snatched him up just when he would have left the cover of the building.

“Hey, little man, slow down. I’ve got you, and no one’s going to hurt you.” Nate searched for Alex along the front wall, planning to place the boy in her protective custody for the next few minutes, but couldn’t locate her. Where was she? She’d been by the door when he raced to the corner of the house to eliminate the threat that had been shooting at her. A band of fear tightened around his chest, interfering with his ability to breathe.

“Jim. Sanchez. Did either of you see where Alex went?” Nate shifted Marco to his other arm.

“She was right there by the door.” Sanchez did a slow sweep of the courtyard.

Jim’s gaze scanned the yard and then came back to the arched entryway. “Sure as shit she went after Diego.” Son of a bitch!

Marco squirmed until Nate set him down. “Is Alex the lady with the pretty hair?”

“That’s right. Did you see her?” Nate went down on one knee in front of him.

Marco pointed toward the door, his eyes wide with fear. “That bad man shot her.”

All the blood rushed from Nate’s head and his world nearly spun out from under him before he caught himself against the adobe brick wall. As soon as he could, he rose to his feet, placing the boy’s hand in Jim’s. “At least one thing went right. Get Marco out of here. Sanchez and I will find Alex.” All Nate could do was cling to his certainty that there hadn’t been any shots fired from inside the house. That was something cops tended to keep track of in a gunfight. It wasn’t much, but it was all he had. “Tell Joe that Diego might still try to get out through the abandoned tunnel.”

“Wait. I’ll take the boy to Ben and go with you.” Jim, obviously worried about Alex, gathered Marco up with his one good arm.

The rifle fire had stopped, which meant the men on the roof either were dead, or were hunkered down for their own good. Ty would be somewhere in the tunnel. Joe might be with him. If they stumbled onto Diego in the dark, it was hard telling what would happen. If Alex was with Diego—­goddamn it—­ she had to be with him, because how could Nate possibly handle finding her body inside the house?

It’d been a mistake to turn his back on her. He should have known she wouldn’t wait. She’d told him about the vow she’d made; disappointing someone in need wasn’t a possibility for her. With Marco’s life on the line, there’d been no way she could stand down. The certainty that she would give her life freely to save Marco’s settled like a hangman’s noose around Nate’s throat.

“No time. Get going.” Nate turned toward the door.

“Wait up, Nate. Fill me in.” Joe sprinted toward them.

Relief flooded him as Joe approached. Not only was he a natural leader and a good man to have on your side in a fight, but he was sure to have less emotional attachment to the situation than Nate did at present. In about ten seconds, Nate brought Joe up to speed.

Joe listened without interruption and then nodded. “She’s tough, Nate. We’ll find her.”

No doubt he’d meant his words as encouragement, but Nate recognized bullshit when he heard it. He’d been a cop long enough to know that things didn’t always end well. Sugarcoating was for civilians.

Joe tipped his head toward the gate. “Jim, take care of Marco. Ben called for EMTs, but you better get Walker to take a look at your arm as soon as he and Rayna get here. And tell Walker to call Marco’s mother and let her know we’ve got him.” Joe stepped toward the house. “Sanchez, you’re in charge until I get back. Call Ty and tell him to stay at the entrance to the tunnel until further notice. According to Walker, there are four wounded men on the roof and the other two have laid down their weapons.”

Joe nodded at Nate. “So that just leaves Diego. Let’s go get Alex.”

Nate glanced at Joe as they moved out. “If he’s taken her, sooner or later he’ll be damn sorry he did.” Alex wouldn’t give up without a fight. He was sure of that, but if she wasn’t able to fight . . . Nate would gladly put aside his badge to see justice done.

Anger burned in Joe’s eyes for a second. “You’ve got that right.”

They entered the hacienda cautiously, with weapons drawn. Nothing seemed out of order in the front room, until a two-­inch bit of color under the edge of the sofa caught Nate’s eye, and he picked it up.

“Is that what I think it is?” Joe stood across the room by an exit leading deeper into the house.

Nate rolled the cylindrical object between his thumb and forefinger. “A tranquilizer dart.” There was blood on the tip and some of the feathers had been knocked askew. Dread rolled in his gut.

Joe motioned for them to continue searching. “Concentrate on what we know. If this is what he shot her with, she’s still alive.”

They split up and searched through the one level with its myriad of guest rooms, which equaled or exceeded Ramon’s extravagance, meeting up again in the basement. The mouth of the abandoned tunnel was right where Walker said it would be, but there were enough packing boxes in front of the entrance that it was obvious no one could have gone through in the last few minutes without someone on this side to straighten up.

Rapidly losing his patience and itching to do something to find Alex, Nate retreated to the opposite side of the dimly lit basement room and paced. The second time around, something caught his attention behind more packing boxes. A spot on the wall—­darker than the rest of the gloom. The closer he got, the more his skin tingled with excitement.

“Got something here!” Nate pushed behind the boxes and knelt as Joe moved up behind him. “Another tunnel.” One that was no longer sealed or hidden . . . that two ­people could have easily entered without disturbing anything. A two-­by-­two vent cover had been pulled away from the hole it concealed and leaned against the wall.

Nate slid through the snug passageway, and not ten feet later, the tunnel opened into an eight-­foot-­tall, four-­foot-­wide alleyway, eventually disappearing into shadows. Dim, battery-­operated light fixtures were mounted on support beams every twenty to thirty feet at about the height of a man’s head. To say they illuminated anything was probably an exaggeration, but at least they allowed a glimpse of the narrow channel.

He nearly tripped over a sturdy-­looking cart on wheels that had been left in front of the opening. Probably designed to carry tools, water, or other necessary supplies to the workers. Dread settled heavily on his shoulders as he surmised what it had been used for most recently. Alex would likely have been unconscious when they reached this point. No doubt Diego had pulled her through the narrow entry on the cart, then must have decided it was easier to carry her until she woke and could walk on her own.

A shudder made Nate twitch as the walls slowly closed in on him and he acknowledged that same loss of control he experienced every time he got on an airplane. He’d never confessed to being claustrophobic, and he’d be damned if he’d start now. It was a matter of choice, and there was really only
one
choice to be made.

He shimmied out of the hole and brushed the dirt off. “I’m going after them.”

Joe nodded but didn’t look like a man who was agreeing. “I’ve got an idea.” With his cell phone in his hand, he tipped his head toward the floor above. “No signal down here.” He wasted no time getting up the stairs and through the main floor of the house with Nate right on his tail.

The two of them stepped out into the courtyard and the bright sunlight. Ben had evidently called his buddies from the Sheriff’s Department also, and two cruisers, in addition to an ambulance, sat in the middle of the yard. Men were being treated for gunshot wounds everywhere Nate looked, and Jim’s arm was freshly wrapped with a bright white bandage. Two bodies lay encased in black bags. The old coot was talking to the sheriff, pointing as he spoke, and clearly pushing the investigation in the direction he wanted it to go. The aged FBI agent continued to amaze Nate.

Joe dialed his phone and stopped some distance away from the commotion. “Ramon?” He caught Nate’s eye and hit the speaker button. “I’m afraid I need another favor.”

“Anything I have is yours, Joe.” Ramon’s flair for the dramatic flowed easily through the phone.

“I’m glad to hear that. I’ve been wondering about Elena. You haven’t mentioned her since I arrived. Did you think I wouldn’t be curious after my team rescued her from the Verdez Cartel? Or has your sister turned her back on you as she did the rest of her relatives who went into the
family
business?” Joe’s gaze rested on Nate.

What in the hell was Joe doing?
They didn’t have time for a family history lesson, and the vibe from the other end of the phone was much more stilted now. If Joe wasn’t careful, he would anger Ramon and whatever favor they needed from him would go by the wayside.

“My sister is busy. I see her when she has time.” The nervous edge to Ramon’s voice clearly said he didn’t like the topic.

Joe shook his head. “Elena kept in touch with me. Where you didn’t think it was important to share the news of your new endeavor, your sister was much more forthcoming.” Joe’s eyes hardened, as did his voice. “I know how you make your living these days. Running drugs across the border.” He paused, apparently giving his friend a chance to deny the accusation. Silence was all he received.

“I’m not judge and jury, Ramon, but I’m not stupid either. I make it a habit to learn everything there is to know about a mission and the ­people involved before we ever put boots on the ground. Did you think I wouldn’t find out that Diego is your brother?”

Nate’s full attention settled on Joe. How long had he been holding back that juicy bit of information? And how had he come by it? Nate didn’t doubt the truth of it for a minute, nor that if it hadn’t suddenly become useful in the bid to free Marco, Joe would never have said anything. A man like Joe Reynolds must get used to playing his cards fairly close to his vest. Nate had logged enough undercover hours to understand and respect that.

“He is no longer my brother. We have not spoken since . . . Stephan died.” Sorrow hung on Ramon’s words.

“I grieved with you, Ramon. Remember? Diego stood by while the cartel kidnapped your sister and killed your son, and he did nothing. I don’t blame you for the bad blood between the two of you. I’d feel the same, and that’s why I came to help you save Elena.” Joe’s voice pulsed with sincerity. “Now I need
your
help, Ramon.”

Nate had known Joe for only a short time, but he’d immediately recognized the man’s deep convictions and his natural inclination to help other ­people. At first, Nate had difficulty reconciling that with the mercenary lifestyle Joe and his team lived. Of course, having known Ty for years, and trusting him with his life, made it easier for Nate to come around where Joe was concerned. If Ty thought Joe was okay—­well, Ty was a pretty good judge of character.

“What is it you need from me, Joe?” Ramon’s heavy sigh carried through the phone.

“Before you and Diego parted ways, you were familiar with his home?”

“
Sí
.”

“He has two tunnels in his basement. One of them leads west and has been abandoned.” Joe waited.

Another deep sigh came through the phone. “The other is fairly new and leads northeast. When last Diego and I spoke, he was only in the planning stage. I’m sure it’s not finished yet, but eventually it will tunnel under the border.”

“So it doesn’t go anywhere now?”

“Diego wouldn’t be as shortsighted as that. He would always have an escape route . . . a secret exit where he could disappear if necessary.” Ramon paused abruptly as though contemplating how much he should tell them.

“Your brother has Alex. They’re in the tunnel. I need you to help me figure out where he’ll surface . . . and we don’t have a lot of time.” That was the bottom line. Joe waited, gripping the phone, while Nate held his breath as a moment of torturous silence passed.

“Well, why didn’t you say so, my friend? As I told you before, the tunnel is almost certainly still under construction, but a few weeks ago, some of my workers stumbled across the
escape route
you seek. I can take you there.” Ramon’s hearty laugh ricocheted from the phone.

Joe grinned and ran a hand through his hair as Nate released his breath.

“That’s good news, Ramon. I’ll be right there to pick you up.” Joe ended the call and slapped Nate on the back. “We need Ty.”

N
ATE SQUEEZED THROUGH
the ten feet of tomblike passageway and knelt inside the bigger tunnel as he waited for Ty to follow him. He checked the ammunition in his handgun—­an unnecessary chore—­but it gave him a few seconds to get a grip on the cloying, skin-­crawling, twitchy sensations walking back and forth across his skin.

There’d been no question that he’d go in the tunnel after her, in spite of his aversion to being buried alive. He would just have to suck it up. Ty had a choice, however, but had agreed to accompany Nate without a second thought. Joe, Walker, Rayna, and Ben were on their way to the foothills, a little over a mile away, where Ramon had revealed that the temporary egress lay. Sanchez had taken Marco back to Ramon’s hacienda. Jim was supposed to sit this one out, but Nate would bet he was already on his way to meet the team in the foothills.

The plan was to push Diego hard from behind, leaving him no choice but to bolt for the exit . . . right into the hands of the rest of the team. Sounded simple enough. Sometimes
simple
worked . . . and sometimes it didn’t.

Ty’s head and shoulders appeared. He squirmed out of the chute, got to his feet, and looked down the long tunnel ahead of them. His glance shot to Nate. “Oh man. I bet you’re loving
this
.”