The Edge of Trust: Team Edge (23 page)

“Continuing today’s top story...U.S. Drug Enforcement Agent John Rodriguez was murdered yesterday in a San Diego hospital during a bizarre undercover investigation.  The man believed responsible for his murder is Commander Dillon Caldwell of the U.S. Special Forces--”

Sara gasped.

Dillon went still.

“--The suspect is still at large and believed to have entered Mexico at the Tijuana border.  The charges against him are treason, conspiracy, and murder.  Do not approach him.  He is considered armed and extremely dangerous.” 

The radio announcer started to give Dillon’s description and Dillon casually reached forward over the seat and switched stations.  He offered a smile to the driver, leaned back and warned Sara with his eyes to keep quiet.

He’d killed a DEA agent?  Obviously a very crooked DEA agent, but still, that put him in some deep shit.  Really deep shit.  Treason, conspiracy, and murder deep. 

Holy crap, how the hell was he going to get out of this one? 

Before they got too far out of town, Dillon took out his cell phone, turned it off and quickly removed the SIM card.  He slipped the flat square into his shirt pocket and put his cellphone back in his fatigues.  He’d destroy both once he got to Jake’s.  Satellite triangulation and GPS systems were going in the toilet. 

The driver wove in and out of heavy traffic before they finally left the city and drove past the  town.  The safe house was located in a rural little suburb and surrounded by dense foliage on all sides.  After the cabbie pulled up to a gravel driveway and stopped, Dillon paid him and got the duffel bags out of the trunk. 

Thunder wracked the air as Sara stumbled out into the rain right behind him.  Grabbing the lighter bag, she looked at the sky, looked at him, then together they made a dash for it.  They were both soaked before they’d gone even ten feet. 

Dillon dumped the bags on the porch and turned to Sara, his voice grim, “As it turns out, we may not be very welcome, here.” 

A low masculine voice came from the side, “Major understatement, asshole.  Don’t you know you’re wanted for murder, among a few other felonious things?”

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

Journal Entry

Took a chopper deep into the jungle of the Sierra Nevada de Santa Marta mountains today.  Landed in La Ciudad Perdida--The Lost City.  Ha.  Lost would be a needle in a haystack.  This is complete isolation.  Entire place is damn near swallowed whole by the jungle, but once you’ve arrived, once you see it, it takes your breath. 

A thousand shades of green shimmer and blend into mountain and valley.  The air is raw and wild, thick and ripe with life, the tangy smell of plants, the sweetness of flowers, the lack of humanity.

Out of the river rise over a thousand stone steps, slick and nearly smothered by moss, and they go up, up, up straight to the mist-shrouded peak.  And yes, even though we landed high, I made the trek down, just so I could say I made the trek
up
. 

At any rate, Sanchez had a meet but I wasn’t invited to the party.  I’ll admit, that still grates.  It would’ve been excellent intel if I’d gotten a name or a face. 

But I couldn’t and I didn’t, so instead I played spotter and spy. 

Spotter, for Sanchez.  Spy for the U.S.  You can bet your ass I took mental notes. 

Happy to say, no one bothered us, not the guerillas, the paramilitaries, or even the Colombian government.  I’m sure this has more to do with the SBC’s reputation plus the fact that some of the Sanchez money has seeped into those wallets than any kind of actual good will. 

The cocaine labs in this area are about as low-tech as they come.  Bare cement, plastic tarps for cover, muddy splats for gasoline storage.  Easy to figure why.  Vast and rugged terrain.  Crazy dense jungle.  Nothing and no one coming or going.  So farmers plant coca and hope that maybe they’ll have money to eat, eke out a living, even an illegal one, to help ease the poverty.  I think they’re too busy trying to stay alive to even consider the end results, the addicts, crime, or kids on dope.

Maybe I’m wrong.  Either way, I won’t judge.  Not here.  Not when I have a belly full of food and shoes on my feet.

Really wish, though, I’d have seen who met with Sanchez.

Sanchez I’ll judge.  No question.  ~~ D.C.

<><><>

The voice came from their left and Dillon whirled in that direction, his gun leading the way.   “I’m getting a little tired of being called an asshole.”

Jake had his gun trained squarely at Dillon’s chest.

Stumbling back off the porch, Sara yelled over the thunder, “Jake!  Dillon’s innocent!”

The men advanced on each other and circled like two boxers in a ring.  Dillon shot Sara a cautioning glance before turning back to Jake.  “Actually, I’m guilty.  But the killing was justified.” 

Jake shrugged.  “That’s not what the news says.”

“The news is wrong.”

“How do I know?  Heard you went dark.  Maybe you’ve changed.”

“Maybe I haven’t.”

“Prove it.”

They kept circling each other, neither willing to concede. 

“Sanchez set me up.”

“Why?”

“I have something he wants.”  Dillon knew this confrontation had to do with honor and trust, and since there wasn’t another man on the planet he trusted more than Jake, he surrendered.  “Look, man, I’m putting my weapon away.”  He lowered his gun and put it back in his holster. 

Hell, he wasn’t going to shoot Jake and Jake wasn’t going to shoot him.  Not in this lifetime.  “Besides, would I be
here
if I was actually guilty?”  He ran his hand through his wet hair.  “I need to use your computer.  I have exactly,” he flipped the Velcro cover off his watch and looked at the luminous dial, “thirty-three hours left to decode and copy a flash drive, then figure a way to find, and hopefully thwart, Sanchez.” 
Before he kills all I have left.
  He turned toward Sara.  “Sara, make sure you scratch Jake off our Christmas list.” 

Jake did a double take.  “Sara?  But-- I thought-- What the hell?”

“I understand the stutter,” Dillon said, “but I’ll have to explain later.  What she needs right now is a little of your hospitality for a while.  And to dry off.” 

Jake’s confusion didn’t quite clear, but he let it go and gave Sara a slow grin, then took her hand and raised it to his lips.  “I’m so glad you’re not dead.” 

And just like that, Jake shoved his gun into the waistband of his jeans and clapped Dillon on the shoulder.  A slow smile, full of even white teeth, broke across Jake’s good-looking face.  “Decode a drive, huh?  Well, all right, then.  Why didn’t you say so?  Let’s go.”  Jake shook his head and a roguish sparkle lit his eyes when he said, “Hell, man, I knew you weren’t guilty, but I couldn’t very well pass up a perfectly good opportunity to point a gun at you.”

Dillon laughed and smacked him upside the head.  “You’re lucky I didn’t take you seriously, or that might have been the last gun you ever pointed.”

“Kilo Mike Alpha--
kiss my ass--
you murderer.”

Dillon shook his head.  “Not yet, but you’re tempting me.”

<><><>

Sara couldn’t help but smile as she studied Jake.  He still had the same streaky blond hair and crazy blue eyes. 

“So,” Sara said, “I hear you’re up to no good again.  Once a hacker, always a hacker?” 

“Yeah, but it’s not something we like to advertise.”  He smiled and winked.  “Maybe I could show you my codes sometime.” 

Dillon muttered under his breath, “Ixnay on the flirting, dirtbag.” 

“Grouch.”  Jake chided, and with a turn, ushered them into a comfortable looking living room complete with TV and Blue Ray.  A kitchen and dining room stood off to one side and down the hall Sara assumed were bedrooms.  A definite step up from last night’s quarters. 

Dillon set the duffel bags down against the wall just inside the door, and turned to his friend.  “What are you doing down here anyway?” 

“I’m on loan.  Somebody FUBAR’d our surveillance efforts and they stuck me here until I can straighten it all out.”

“I’m surprised that out of all the agents EDGE could have chosen, they picked you to play watchdog at a safe house.  Your talents are being wasted in this place.”

“Ah, but I think you’ll find the surveillance I’m doing very interesting.  Plus, they’re letting me play with their latest and greatest computer system, so it’s not all bad.”

“Play with?  I’m sure you mean completely redesign.” 

“I try.”

Sara watched the two men and felt her smile fade as Dillon’s earlier words finally sank in.  “What did you mean I’ll need Jake’s hospitality for a while?  We don’t have a
while
to waste.”

Dillon expelled a long breath.  “I mean that you’re not going with me.  No way am I going to let you schlep around the jungle looking for Sanchez.  You’re staying right here until this is over.  Understand?”  

Oh, she understood all right.  He was still determined to dump her.  “Stay here while you go off traipsing after a lunatic killer who’s got my brother?  Not to mention our, uh,” she glanced at Jake, not sure if Dillon wanted the news out just yet.  “Package.  No way.  I’m going with you.” 

Dillon’s eyes narrowed in warning but before he could speak, Jake chimed in.  “Sorry, Sara, but Dillon’s right.  It’s mean and dangerous out there, and certainly no place for a woman.  Rafael Sanchez is a butcher and he wouldn’t hesitate to slice--”

“Jeez, Jake, don’t sugarcoat it.  I think she gets the picture.”   

“I’ve had the
picture
up close and personal.  I’m going and you can’t stop me.”

Dillon’s movements were smooth, almost predatory, as he walked toward her.  “No.  You’re not.”  He narrowed his gaze and his voice came out dark, “You’d scream the first time you saw a bug bigger than your shoe.  Not to mention the snakes, mountain lions, bats and everything else that’re out there.” 

He stepped close enough that his chest touched hers, then slowly backed her up against the wall, pinning her there with his body.  A hard, muscled body seeping warmth and virility.  His gaze, half-lidded and stormy, lingered on her lips.  His mouth was just a breath away from hers, and he leaned forward to whisper across her cheek, “You’ve seen firsthand what Sanchez can do.  Don’t tempt fate a second time.  You won’t win.”  Abruptly, he turned away from her and walked into the kitchen.

She sagged, then straightened and thought,
Oh, yes, I will.
  Up to this point, she’d pretty much gone along with Dillon’s wishes, but after what Sanchez had done to her, whose lives he now held, well this time she intended to push back.  She just wasn’t sure how yet. 

“Sorry, Sara,” Jake said.  He glanced at her, and then obviously deciding discretion was the better part of valor, followed Dillon into the kitchen.

Fuming, she watched the two men disappear into the other room.  Her emotions were waffling and she knew it.  She was walking that fine line between thinking and not thinking clearly.  Yes, Dillon had been trained for what he was about to do.  She wasn’t.  Not exactly.  She didn’t want to be a liability, but didn’t he get it?  It wasn’t that she
wanted
to go.  She
had
to go. 

For herself.  And for Matt and Ellie.

Not only that, but she wasn’t sure Dillon would believe her if she told him that Manny Vega, the man he hated, the man he wanted to kill, was in fact, her brother.  Even if he did believe her, he might not care.  Not if he thought Matt had turned.  Even though Matt had to be working undercover, he was still working with Sanchez.  And if Dillon found out, she doubted he’d lift a finger to save him.   

There were no two ways about it, she had to go.  Whether Dillon liked it or not.

<><><>

Jake looked over his shoulder to make sure Sara hadn’t followed them and half whispered, “That lady out there is dripping confusion and anger all over my carpet.  What in the hell happened to her?” 

“Too much,” Dillon answered curtly, shaking his head, knowing he hadn’t helped matters by lying to her, and now the lie was eating him alive. 

“Like...?” 

Dillon leaned against the kitchen counter, sighed, then dropped the bomb he knew would blow Jake right out of the water.  “You remember what happened twelve months ago, on the pier.  We all thought Sara’d been killed but apparently not.  The DEA patched her up, hid her for a year.  But we have a leak somewhere and Sanchez found her a few days back.  Somehow she got away.”

“Sanchez actually had her?  I didn’t know.”

“I didn’t either, until yesterday.” 

Jake grabbed a chair and sat down at the kitchen table.  “Holy shit.  And Sanchez has her brother?  Is there a ransom involved?”

“If you can call the heavily coded thumb drive she swiped a ransom.”

“She swiped a--?  From Sanchez?  And she’s still breathing?”  Jake whistled through his teeth, then shook his head with a small smile.  “Jesus.
 
Same old Sara.  Bold and ballsy.”

“Yeah, well, the ballsy part I could do without.  The bold part might get her killed.” 

Jake’s smile faded.
 
“Sanchez give you a drop point?”

“No.
 
And that’s the hell of it.
 
I have no idea where to find him.
 
Mexico, Colombia?
 
Hell he could be in Bum-fuck-istan for all I know.”

“How’d he contact you?”

“Cellphone.”

“And?”

“And nothing.
 
He gave me forty-eight hours to deliver his drive or he’s going to kill Matt.
 
Then the bastard hung up.”  He didn’t want to tell Jake about Ellie, not yet, didn’t want him to know something Dillon had just found out about himself.  He needed time to absorb first.

Jake shook his head.
 
“Typical Sanchez bullshit.
 
Good news is, he’s on the DEA’s radar and our latest intel says he’s in
Mexico.
 
Bad news is, he’s going to be hard to find.  He’s got himself set up in some kind of jungle fortress outside of Puerto Vallarta, and it’s so well hidden nothing much has shown up on satellite.”