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  Devon laughed, pulling his hands from his keyboard and holding them up in surrender. “I don’t know what my big brother is talking about. But,” he pointed out, “if she happens to be here, I’ll let you know before she has the chance to get in and chastise.” He dropped his hands and cleared his throat. “Ken, I think I see a spot for you and Sugar to set up about a half mile out. There’s a line of sight and elevation problem for most of the area, so give yourselves extra time to recon.”

  At times like these when they all crowded around a laptop, he wished for all the big screen TVs Devon had installed in the war room.

  “The aerial is a bit fuzzy, but the complex is set up for protection. There’s only one way in or out, unless it’s through the jungle that surrounds him on all sides. If he’s a paranoid bastard, there could be traps or guards even there. It appears he had the jungle near his home cut back, which means you’ll have more open ground to cover than we’d like.”

  “No problem. Sugar will clear us a line,” Cowboy said.

  “Michael, remember I’ll have you in my sights too,” Sam countered.

  Her joke sent a cold shiver down Ken’s spine, the thought of what he’d overheard popping into his head. Surely if Beverly had asked her to kill anyone, she’d refused. His head couldn’t get around anything other than that refusal.

  The remainder of the flight they reviewed the photos and map. Without setting foot down, they couldn’t tell if the jungle would be a friend or foe for them. They couldn’t tell how thick the foliage was, and not having machetes could be a help or hindrance.

  During weapons check and camouflage paint application, Stone taught a few basic phrases in Spanish to include—to Cowboy and Doc’s benefit—one beer, please.

  After that, they each caught a combat nap. He, Franks, and Old Man were the last to sleep and the first to rise. Before the pilot announced their descent, everyone was awake and buckled into their seats.

  With another smooth landing, Ken applauded the choice in pilot that Jesse and Devon had selected. The woman was worth every penny. While they taxied, the team grabbed their gear, suited up, and conducted a weapons check.

  “GPS check,” Ken directed.

  When the pilot cleared them, Ken opened the door and dropped the stairs. After a quick sweep of the area, seeing as best as he could in the dark, he led the team onto the tarmac near a hangar.

  At zero-dark-thirty, they spread out and searched the area with NVGs to see through the darkness but returned with frowns.

  “Where’s our transport?” Stone asked.

  Damn good question. Ken didn’t give Jesse time to make the call to Devon. Phone in hand, he hit speed dial. Before he could utter a word, Devon rushed, “Stand by. I’m working on it.”

  This had to be the first time ever Devon had not had something ready for them. Even though he heard Devon speaking with someone—in Spanish no less—he asked, “What the hell happened?” He should apologize for his angry tone, but he couldn’t right now. They needed that transport to rescue Cody but to also get there in time to stop Beverly from getting in the way.

  “Okay,” Devon said. “I received the call when you landed that your transport hadn’t arrived. I hired a new group, but it could be close to an hour before they arrive since they’ll be waking drivers. The vehicles won’t be armored like the ones I initially hired, but since they’re dropping you off so far away from your destination, you shouldn’t need that option.”

  “Sen—”

  “I’m sending their names and photos to your handhelds.” Ken smiled at Devon’s ability to anticipate.

  The team had to do something they hated unless it was when they were in position—wait. Starting off an op with a glitch left him with a sour stomach. Now more than ever, he didn’t question his decision to protect Sam. No matter how strong he knew her to be, she wasn’t invincible.

  11

  Confused at the fact that Ken planned to follow and remain with her, Sam climbed into the waiting SUV. When the driver leered at her with open lust, even while she carried her gear and wore face paint, her skin crawled with disgust. Something about him screamed sleazy drug dealer.

  A small part of her wanted to be childish and stick her finger in her mouth, mocking a vomiting act. But as a professional, she pushed that aside and remembered she had a KA-BAR on her waist, a small knife in her boot, a SIG Sauer on her thigh, and her new sniper rifle slung over her shoulder. Any of them would be useful if he decided to act with his groin calling the shots.

  With Stone escorted to the commercial terminal to head off Bev, the team split into groups of three for transport and somehow she ended up with Jesse and Ken again. Thinking a bit irrationally, something inside her told her this op provided her a great opportunity to decide how she’d proceed on either walking away from the evidence Bev’s investigator had uncovered or finding a way to make the two men pay.

  When she’d first scanned the investigation report Bev had sent her, the need for vengeance bled through her veins, and she’d allowed her friend to feed that desire until Sam had seen nothing but red. Reading it in black and white and knowing these men, she couldn’t reconcile the actions they’d taken that fateful day.

  Maybe that’s why she hadn’t planned any retaliation against them. Maybe it had more to do with her and Ken’s growing relationship. Either way, she had to reconsider all she and Bev had discussed. While she’d never committed to anything, Bev had asked her to kill them.

  While Sam may be struggling to believe the new information, Bev would accept anything that laid the blame for Adam’s death at someone’s doorstep. Even after, Sam wasn’t sure she’d stop.

  And, now she’d brought the men straight into Bev’s orbit. What would happen after they found Cody? Could Bev forgive them since they’d brought back Adam’s son?

  Closing her eyes and holding back tears of sorrow, despair, and confusion, she knew Bev had not only shared the intel with her because Lance died too but because she was in the best position to take out Jesse and Ken. Her friend actually thought she could be capable of murder. Vengeance, yes, but still murder.

  Worse, on a personal level, she couldn’t get Ken out of her mind. His presence tilted all her emotions and thoughts. That kiss… nine years after their last, had been better than she’d remembered. With the heat… the passion… her senses went into a whirlwind.

  She loved being an agent with HIS. The camaraderie of the team and how they’d enfolded her into their midst told her she’d found a home. And the rekindling of a relationship with Ken had helped her bring back the female part of her that had died with her husband. All in all, this was where she wanted to be.

  The question became whether risking that for something that happened in the past was worth it. Or, did the dead require justice?

  If Ken hadn’t pushed her away all those years ago, refusing to become involved even though they shared an attraction that had never diminished, she’d probably never have dated and married Lance. She closed her eyes, dropped her head and sighed. It’d all changed ten long years ago, yet she couldn’t push it all aside. Ken had always been there. The before and after Lance kisses—as she referred to them—the hanging out with him and Lance, and Ken being her support after her husband died.

  With her small backpack on the floorboard between her legs, watching her side of the road as she knew Ken did on his side on their ride to Chiapas, Sam continued her attempt to rationalize things.

  Since their recent kiss, everything had changed. He’d finally decided they should be together, and God, she wanted him so damn much. Well, her body… her mind… and soul did, but she refused to give him her heart as she’d been fool enough to do that in the past. Plus there was the mind-blowing development of his involvement in Lance’s death to contend with.

  Doubt swirled in her gut, her heart squeezing.

  “Do you think Stone can get Beverl
y back on a plane?” Ken asked softly from beside her on the back seat. Not trusting their driver, they’d only spoken in low tones and not about op specifics.

  Sam looked at him, and his gaze almost floored her. She’d never seen worry in his eyes, but she caught a flash of it before he pulled on his mask. With a brief shake of her head, she gave him her honest opinion. “I don’t know. I think I should’ve gone to talk her into it.”

  “Believe me, that had been my initial thought. But two things changed my mind. First, your Spanish is horrible and not everyone speaks English enough to understand what you might require.”

  She couldn’t argue there. Without the little refresher on the plane, she wouldn’t be able to find a bathroom on her own.

  “Second,” he continued, “I need you.”

  Her breath caught in her chest. Yet, her next few breaths became heavy, and for someone who had to perfect her breathing behind the scope of her rifle, her reaction knocked around something in her heart. “You—” She gulped. “—you need me?”

  “Sure.” He shrugged as if it meant nothing to him. “You’re one of our most valuable assets.”

  Those words were the type of sweet-talking she preferred. Not once had she heard something so heartfelt as that from the PD or SWAT. In reply to his statement, she snorted. “’Bout time you noticed.”

  “Oh, Sugar.” His fake drawl needed work. “I’ve always noticed.”

  Okay, that got too personal right away. She had to remain focused and rid her brain of all that crap and pay attention to the op. Nothing else mattered.

  Turning the conversation back to a safer topic, she mock shuddered. “I hope we don’t run into any big f—” She caught herself and her gaze snapped to Jesse in the passenger seat. “—snakes.” He didn’t turn, but she could’ve sworn Jesse’s chest moved, hiding a chuckle. Their challenge in living up to his daughter’s request had made some headway, but the men had been right that on an op, sometimes it slipped out. They’d try and try again until they got it right because they loved the little girl and all the other Hamilton children.

  Ken chucked, whether at her for almost saying the f-word or her aversion to snakes, she didn’t know. “I’ll protect you from them. Especially while you’re lying there as a perfect target for them to wrap themselves around your prone body.”

  That thought made her want to toss her piece and go home—even if she had to hitchhike back to Baltimore. She’d dealt with plenty of critters to include small, non-venomous snakes and had remained still. But boa constrictors that could be up to fourteen feet long? Hell no didn’t even come close. Instead of reaching out and choking Ken liked she would have liked, she smiled sweetly. “Thank you, oh knight in Kevlar.”

  “Anything for you, milady,” he shot back and leaned forward as if in a bow. When he rose, his smile settled her, and she relaxed, caught up in their usual easy banter.

  Jesse had the driver stop out in the middle of nowhere in the near pitch-black. They hadn’t seen a house or soul for miles and the paved road ended a mile or so back. There’d only been jungle on either side. Who lived out here? Immediately, the stupidity of that question sprang forth. Apparently, their kidnapper and possible arms dealer did. Snakes must not bother him.

  Before the drivers turned their vehicles around, the team had slipped into the jungle on the right side of the dirt road with her, Ken, and Doc wearing backpacks, and the remaining agents their war belts, with rifles in hand, and night vision goggles ready. They wore determined looks on their painted faces. By some of their excitement, she figured they missed their war games and looked forward to this trek. While she’d hike in the jungle to rescue Cody, at no other time would she even consider this trip. Something was wrong with those men.

  Jesse remained close to the edge of the foliage, watching to ensure the drivers turned back instead of continuing to possibly warn Alejandro. They’d already learned that besides the indigenous Lacandón people, a small number of others lived out this way since the government sold only a few plots of land. It seemed Alejandro had enough money to grease some palms for his large parcel.

  Sam didn’t care about all that crap. She cared about a snake dropping down on her. She shuddered at the thought.

  Even though they were miles from their destination—to throw off their transports and avoid the direct entry into Alejandro’s home, they moved swiftly through small well-used and new trails, striving for the closest thing to silence. While not completely possible when brush couldn’t be skirted, all the animal sounds nearly drowned out their movements.

  Ken led the group with his rifle in one hand and a GPS in the other to ensure they didn’t end up chasing their tails in the brush. At one point, they split to approach from different angles. Franks, who’d also had his handheld in use, led the remainder of the team off to the north side, but not before Cowboy grabbed her free hand with a “Do us proud, Sugar” before he joined the other agents.

  That left her with Ken. He looked back at her for only a moment before he led them east. At one point, he did a comm check with five responses of “Lima Charlie.” The two of them would take longer to settle on a location than the team. The distance didn’t bother her, and with no wind, her shot would be assured. If she had a shot.

  Darkness receded as the morning light arrived, but only a bit of light filtered through the tree and brush overgrowth in the jungle. Because the lack of light didn’t stop her from doing her job since she had a night scope in her pack, she preferred it. She didn’t worry about her location being spotted because, like the rest of the team, sunlight didn’t glint off their weapons due to some special coating Devon had ordered or added.

  The humidity stifled her breathing, and her hair, even though slightly damp, wanted to spring from its holder in a frizz like nobody’s business. Looking at Ken’s back, his hair pulled back at the base of his neck, she wondered if his would also frizz when released. Wow, that’s what she chose to think about?

  Seeing something in their path that stopped her, her heart skipped a beat, and she stood rooted to the spot. Was it a snake hanging down from the bushes? A shudder rippled through her, and her heart pounded in a fearful beat that made it difficult to breathe normally.

  Realizing she hadn’t followed, Ken stopped and turned around. Maybe seeing her distress had him closing in on her. In a low, worried voice, he asked, “Sam, what’s wrong?”

  Her voice quivered as her shaky hand pointed to the possible snake. “Snake.”

  Without a word, he moved to where she pointed, and Sam wanted to cry out for him to stay away. As he surveyed it, then used his rifle to prod it, her pulse zinged back and forth.

  Ken turned back to her. “Branch.”

  She gulped, then as if her legs were concrete she struggled forward, skirting the limb as best she could. He said no word about it or her fear.

  “We’re closing in on the location Devon marked,” Ken noted.

  Giving herself a mental kick, she cleared the clutter and focused on the op. Once again.

  Her mind had cataloged their escape route or at least one of them. Part of it contained primitive trails where it’d been traversed before. Not very wide, but better than forcing through the overgrowth with only KA-BARs. As the small potential area for her to set up came into sight, she knew it wouldn’t work. But they tested it anyway because of the slight elevation. Her fear had been right, and while she wanted bushes to conceal them, she had to be able to find a hole that allowed her to have a clean shot into the compound and all around it.

  “I don’t know about this,” she let slip.

  “Aren’t you a member of the one-mile club?”

  Like distance would ever be a challenge. With the foliage around them, she doubted she’d find a clear shot from this far away.

  “We can eighty-six this spot,” she decided without wasting any more time. She sighted something that had her moving f
orward. “Follow me,” she quietly directed.

  Knowing that if guards were patrolling the jungle they could be overhead, they didn’t rush, even though she wanted to do so. She had patience galore when in position, but making it there with that much patience was a lost art for her.

  More than once they stopped each other to listen. Although they heard nothing, they still waited before moving forward again.

  Ken touched her arm to stop her once again, and as she searched the area, he whispered, “Where the hell are you going?”

  With a nod in the forward direction, they moved again, and she noticed his limp become more prominent.

  Sam grimaced when they stopped. The area she’d sighted, while only covered in vines and some small leaves growing up from the ground, happened to be larger than she’d expected. Still out of view from the compound and open area around it, the space left them more vulnerable than she liked. They sat about one-quarter mile away.

  Knowing the risks, Ken nodded in approval at her relocation. “See if you have a hole while I check out six.” He turned away and moved quietly behind them.

  Even though she saw nothing but his back, she nodded, flipped her hat backward, and settled on the uncomfortable ground. Her joking team had been right about her lying on the wet ground. The vines, which she’d ensured weren’t snakes, gave her the willies. She shuddered again at the thought of big snakes and tried to put the phobia from her mind. Lord knew it was full enough today with non-sniper stuff.

  It took a bit of positioning to find a hole with enough concealment for her and Ken, and clear to the compound. Ken would have a tougher time finding an opening. She normally worked without a spotter, so maybe he could join the fray and leave her be.

  Admittedly, having a spotter would be better, especially with the short distance and cover, but something besides her confusion about her husband’s death had her wanting to reject his help. Thoughts of Cody and what she might need to save him made her freeze any personal thoughts in their tracks. She could use a spotter to give her as much support as possible.