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Flashing Kilmer a look of teasing contempt, Morozov growled, “Suffer in silence, Kilmer.” The sergeant’s mouth drew into a beatific smile. He didn’t smile often. Nik was always amused by the fact the black ops soldier looked like a mischievous little boy when he smiled, and not the lethal soldier he really was. Kilmer was deadly, and Nik knew it for a fact. Every man on their team was a hunter and a killer. They were a focused team out here for one reason: to keep American interests protected, and able to survive their enemies’ attacks. Even Kilmer’s wide, intelligent blue eyes, which now danced with mirth, didn’t give away the fact he was veteran hardened in the ways of deep undercover ops like this one. He knew Mace had been recalled to this role because of this new op, and his time down here was temporary. Nik was jealous.
“I think it’s a good idea. Korsak doesn’t fully trust you because you won’t screw around with the prostitutes or take part in the village rapes.” Mace gestured toward the paper in Morozov’s long, slender hands. “If you fall in love with a tourist, that makes you one of them, bedding a woman. Korsak’s always questioned your sexual preferences.”
“He’s a bastard,” Morozov hissed under his his breath, giving Kilmer a deadly look. “Women and children should be treated with respect, never used like Korsak and his men use them.”
Mace patted him on the shoulder. “Nik, you’re the only white knight out here in this fucking jungle. I’m sure this woman operator will be safe when you’re around her.”
Shaking his head, Morozov handed the papers back to Mace. He couldn’t afford to be caught with anything on him that might rouse Korsak’s suspicions that there was a mole in their midst. “It’s a good plan, actually. I just don’t feel up to it.”
Kilmer’s grin widened. “Up to it? Is that a pun?” and he snickered, tipping a significant glance down at the crotch of Morozov’s dark green cargo pants.
“Get off,” Nik growled.
“No, no, the American slang would be: ‘fuck off’.”
A sour grin pulled at one corner of Nik’s mouth. “That too. Alex Kazak always had a bad time with American slang, too. Maybe it’s a Ukrainian thing?”
“Maybe, my friend,” and Mace chuckled and tucked the papers away in the knapsack that sat between his wet combat boots. He straightened up. “So, tomorrow you’re outta here for five days? Then back on the circuit again?”
“Yes.” Nik gave him an unhappy look. “But Korsak, as usual, isn’t telling us where we’ll start on that circuit.”
“And that leaves us in the lurch,” Mace agreed, hefting the one-hundred-and-twenty-pound ruck across his broad back. He cinched up the straps, adjusting the weight across his shoulders. “Maybe if Korsak sees you with a woman, visiting her monthly, he’ll start trusting you a little more,compadre.”
“That is the plan, isn’t it?” Nik said, hauling his own heavy-enough ruck, still only half the weight of Kilmer’s, onto his back. He cinched it up and then thrust his hand toward Kilmer. “Stay safe out there?”
“Right,” and Mace grinned, clenching Nik’s hand in a brief shake, the sweat standing out on his bearded face. “You too, hear?”
Nodding, Nik rasped, “You leave first.”
Mace turned and walked toward the other escape route from the cave behind the waterfall. Nik stood there; his AK-47 rifle in a chest sling anchored across his body. After watching the Special Forces soldier disappear into the gloom, he turned, walking silently toward the waterfall. Waiting a few minutes, he moved closer to the waterfall entrance and exit point. Light spray hit his face and body as he peeked out one side of it, and then the other side, to check that no one was in the immediate vicinity. So far, in the years he’d spent here in the Peruvian jungle, none of the Russian teams had ever discovered this place. That was lucky for him and his American contacts.
Often, he would have met Sam Hutchison here and they’d exchange intel. His heart felt heavy. Sam had been a damn good CIA case officer, and hadn’t deserved getting this throat slashed by Korsak. How had Korsak found Sam out? The Russian was wily, and Nik never forgot it. He was glad that Mace Kilmer was down here for this new op, and that Mace was very aware that Sam had been his good friend. He was glad that Mace had brought him in on this mission, and especially glad knowing that the CIA agent was out for Korsak’s blood. He glanced down at the watch on his wrist. Five more minutes and then he’d slip out and head back to the village. Along the way, he’d grab some plant or other and Korsak would think, as usual, that his interest in Quechua herbal medicine was the reason he’d taken off and disappeared for a while. He kept a notebook, filled with drawings and scribbles, plus the Latin identification of the plants he’d found. It was part of his cover.
The mid-afternoon humidity dampened and stuck his olive-green T-shirt and camo trousers against his tall, lean body. He moved like a ghost out from behind the waterfall and into the surrounding jungle. Nik heard the nearby thunderstorms that popped up every afternoon and evening, their rumbles vibrating through the air. There was never any sunlight in this jungle. Only foggy-looking clouds that hung drunkenly just above the triple canopy and then, at night, lowered to the ground so that no one could see their hand in front of their face at times. The wet plant leaves slapped against his lower body, keeping his clothing damp as he moved swiftly away from the hiding spot.
Topping another small hill, Nik took the three-foot-wide red clay trail that would lead him back to the village of Kurmi. Loping along, his legs long and covering a lot of ground, he felt his knees start to gripe dully. He’d been out here humping around the jungle and Highlands for too many years and his joints were wearing out from carrying such a heavy medical pack. His mind turned to Dan, his brother, who was twenty-seven, two years younger than he was. His brother was six foot two inches tall, with green eyes, brown hair and a square face, taking more after their father. Nik took after his mother in looks. Last month Korsak had had the whole bunch of them flown into Cusco for seven days R&R, which was more than welcomed by the exhausted team. There, Nik called his brother in Lviv, Ukraine, to find out how he was doing.
Dan had been a member of Spetsnaz, just as he had, following in his footsteps. Dan too, had become a vaunted combat medic. And then he had incurred traumatic brain injury in a fierce fire fight with Russian rebels. Nik’s heart ached as he remembered the Dan of old: dancing green eyes, his deep voice filled with laughter and good humor. Now, his brother was an introvert and rarely laughed. Even more rarely joked. He longed for his real brother back, not this stand-in who was a shadow of Dan’s former self. And he prayed that this new, advanced technology created in the US, syncing brainwaves together again, could make the difference. As his boots hit the muddy red clay, puddles of water splashed around them, Nik’s resolve deepened. He would continue this mole work in Korsak’s murderous, brutal team of hardened Russian soldiers so his brother could get that help found nowhere outside the USA.
If he could deliver Korsak to Kilmer’s stealth team, his job down here would finally be over. And he was more than ready to see it done. Nik hung on tightly to the promise of the CIA to give him and Dan political asylum. They both spoke English, which was lucky for them. He wouldn’t allow himself to dream too far ahead. If he didn’t keep his head in the game with Korsak, who distrusted him, he could find himself with a pistol pointed at him, and the bastard more than willing to pull the trigger and kill him for some perceived infraction. No, Nik knew how to manipulate Korsak, but never got too cocky about it. Korsak had already killed two members of his team because they’d failed to follow one of his orders fast enough. The two replacements were Neanderthals in comparison: rough, brutish and with no humanity in them at all. Korsak was never to be taken for granted. Ever.
The male Quechua Indians were loaded down with sacks of cocaine and were being ordered to the edge of the village when Nik returned. Korsak was in a good mood judging from his expression, his bald head shining with sweat. The other men were buckling up their rucks, and getting ready to move. The Indian women all had worried looks on their faces for their husbands. Their children clung, hiding behind their mother’s skirts, as their husbands were herded toward the trail like mules bearing heavy loads. Nik stopped and made a noteworthy show of stuffing his handful of carefully chosen plants into his opened medical ruck. Korsak was used to him doing so, and would think nothing of it.
The Indians would be herded at a fast pace up the steep climb from the jungle to the Highlands above the village. Up there, mostly only rocks survived, with a bit of soil clinging in between them at seven thousand feet in elevation. The Indians would offload their heavy sacks from their skinny backs, stuffing them into a hiding place in a series of nearby caves. Once they’d done their duty, they would be released and told to go home, and they’d gladly do so. A Russian helicopter, manned by pilots who were KGB in disguise, would land at 0900 at that GPS location. The drug team would then load the cocaine, and then, climb on board themselves.
Nik had nothing to do but follow and remain watchful as he brought up the rear of the group. No one spoke to him, which was usual. They considered him to be an oddball, not part of the group. But no one would outright say that because what if they got infected or bit by a venomous Fer-de-Lance snake? It would be he who took care of them and saved their sorry-assed lives. And one never made an enemy of a combat corpsman. Ever. But their glances confirmed their disgust at him from his refusal to act like the rest of the team. That was all right with Nik. He’d withstood this pariah status for many years now, and the end was in sight. All he had to do was meet this new woman operator, pretend she was his new lover, and hope like hell Korsak would let down his guard and allow him in on the intel he gave to the rest of the team. It sounded easy, but Nik knew it wasn’t.
As he kept watch by turning often to look down the trail that wound through the dark, green, humid jungle, he felt exhausted. Tired to his soul. And yet, as he divided his sharpened attention between the group strung out ahead of him and keeping their rear protected, his mind wandered back to the woman operator known as Daria McClusky. He was sure that wasn’t her real name. But she was beautiful! Even with a lousy black and white printed-out photo of her, Nik wasn’t blind. In fact, when he thought about her, his lower body stirred. That surprised him in some ways because he’d always equated sex with some kind of meaningful emotional relationship with his woman partner. He didn’t even know Daria. Only that she was a Russian orphan by birth, adopted by a Ukrainian couple. She was fluent in both languages. He knew little else of her background. And he doubted she’d fill him in on anything unless it was need-to-know basis only. She was undercover like himself.
Still, his curiosity was piqued because his body seemed to know more than he did. Smiling to himself, he felt as if cooling winter air was flowing through him, refreshing and vitalizing him. He missed the winters of his home. The snow. The biting cold. And he’d loved ice skating as a child when growing up with Dan. They had done everything together. Now, they were separated half a globe away. Would this woman be a CIA agent like Sam had been? He’d never interfaced with a woman undercover agent before, only men.
It was titillating to think about getting to touch her, hold her hand and maybe, steal a kiss out in public now and then. But it would have to be where Korsak or his men could see them. Korsak might finally trust him if he had a woman he’d even fictionally bedded when they next came into Aguas Calientes. He would be one of them.Finally.In all their years together, his team had never seen him take a woman or even show any interest in one. In a way, Nik thought, it would be VERY interesting to see the men of this team’s reaction to him finding a woman that finally suited his tastes. At least, that is what they would think. He wondered how far the team would welcome him back into their collective embrace. Especially Korsak.
There was no question he was an outsider. And what kind of woman was Daria? He had so many questions to ask of her. What part of Ukraine did she live in? Was her family still there? How did she get caught up in undercover work? What was her story? Nik found himself wanting to know everything about her. It was her eyes, he decided, that spoke most powerfully to him. What color were they? She looked exhausted in that photo. Maybe it was an old photo? Not a recent one? What had made her look so soul-deep sad?
He laughed to himself because he was a sucker for any child or woman who was hurting in any way. Alex Kazak had always roughly teased him that he couldn’t stand the sight of a woman’s or child’s tears, that he would turn himself inside out to stop their pain and suffering. And, in the photo of Daria, it looked as if she was so close to crying.About what?
As Nik jogged along, the Indians keeping up their fast pace up the slanting red, muddy trail that would lead them to the harsh, rocky Highlands, his heart wanted answers, too. Which was odd. How could a grainy photo of an unknown woman touch him so profoundly? He almost felt like a lone wolf who had searched all his life for his mate and never found her. Until just now…
