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15
Santiago’s threat hit home, and the color drained from Mari’s face, her whole body paralyzed by shock as her stomach dropped away with a sickening rush.
Santiago stood there, blocking the door, watching her, his gun still pointed at them, his expression smug.
Mari stared back at him, stunned and wide-eyed, the safe, ordered world she knew slipping away.
He continued to watch her, the muscles in his jaw taut, his expression compressed into hard lines. He gave her a tight smile. “Do we have an agreement?”
“Agreement,” she scoffed, looking at the gun.
Suddenly the door opened, and two men came through. Big thuggish men, part of the Sombre Sindicato gang, and reality swept in when she recognized them as Tierra employees. One had a spider tattoo on his neck, and the other a long scar on his arm. She dubbed the one with the spider tattoo Tweedledee, and the other one Tweedledum. She didn’t like the way they ogled her and her sister, raising her hackles and her protective instincts. She closed her eyes, a chilling comprehension washing through her. They had been there the whole time. They had been the ones who had ratted out the SEALs once they had made it to their property. Her whole body trembled, her heart thumping wildly in her chest. She closed her eyes again, setting her shaking, bound hands into her lap.
They had been working in plain sight as hired employees.
“How long have you all been working for us?” she asked, her voice hoarse.
They all smiled. “A year, and if it wasn’t for your cooperation with the DEA and American military, we would still be in business. But we have one more big shipment to get out, so you’ll have to bear with us,” Santiago casually said like it was business as usual.
She couldn’t stop herself, outraged that they had infiltrated her legitimate business with their illegal smuggling. “And Mr. Barrantes?”
“He was a good guy right up until I put a bullet in the back of his head.” Santiago shrugged. “He was reluctant to cooperate, but he finally taught me everything he knew.”
Now she understood. That’s why they kept him prisoner for a month and tortured him. Poor, dedicated Juan.
Santiago moved closer, folding his arms across his chest after he tucked the pistol into the waistband of his pants. His gaze never left her face, his voice clipped when he finally said, “You’re our leverage to make sure our shipment gets through to the ports.”
Mari had a rudimentary knowledge of all the departments that made up her family business. La Buena Tierra used both the Pacific coast’s Port of Caldera that shipped primarily to the western half of the United States, African, and Asian markets, and the Atlantic coast’s Port of Limón, which shipped primarily to the eastern half of the United States and Europe. It made her angry to know that their coffee product had been used to conceal drugs.
“He wants to see you,” one of the thugs said.
Santiago nodded.“Just to be clear so there’s no misunderstanding. You’re coming with us, and we expect you to be cooperative. Your lives depend on it.” He paused, waiting for her to make a comment, but when she said nothing, he went on, his voice almost impassive. “Good. We’re all on the same page.” He came to them, pulled a silver metal item from his pocket, flipped his wrist, and it turned into a wicked-looking switchblade. He cut the bonds at their ankles and gestured toward the door. “Let’s go, ladies.”
She lifted her chin, her voice as clipped as his had been. “You’re not going to get away with this,” she said, certain that the DEA, the CIA, and Buck’s team were going to put a stop to them. There wasn’t an ounce of doubt in her mind. Gone was the uncertainty about Buck, realizing that everything with Diego had overwhelmed her, and she’d made emotional and irrational assumptions about Buck she deeply regretted.
When she didn’t move, he inclined his head to his two thugs. They plodded across the room, one grabbing Carmen’s arm, and one grabbing hers. They dragged them off the couch, across the room, and out the door.
When they reached the shiny new black Humvee parked near her car, one of the men got a little handsy with Carmen. Seeing red, Mari slugged him hard in his chest, grabbing her sister and pulling her away.
Her eyes dominating her ashen face, Carmen pleaded, her tone beseeching, “Mari, please don’t.” The tremor in Carmen’s voice was the only thing that kept her from refusing to get into the vehicle. Once they were taken from this area, away from her car, they would be prisoners in the truest sense of the word. Kidnapped, leverage until they served no purpose.
Santiago grabbed Mari by her hair and nodded to his guy as he opened the door. She struggled, and he slapped her hard, throwing her into the back seat. Carmen, crying softly, and moving quickly, settled in beside her. Tweedledum pushed in behind Carmen.
“Give me your cell phones.” Mari reluctantly released hers, her only lifeline to Buck, and she regretted her choice to keep him out of the decision to come here. But Carmen cried when she handed hers over. She had to be thinking about all her research on her shoes, and how she wasn’t going to be attending not only her dance but her graduation. He threw the phones out the window.
He laughed at their expressions and draped his arm casually along the open window.
After about fifteen minutes, they pulled up to what looked like one of those helicopter charters for tourists. People milled around waiting for their flights. She’d heard that the gangs and cartels had legitimate businesses. Obviously, they used the helicopters for illegal purposes.
Tweedledum cut their bonds, and Santiago looked at them in the rearview mirror. “Don’t think about running or trying to call for help. If you do, everyone here dies.”
It took all her willpower not to bolt. She wanted to get Carmen out of harm’s way, but there was nothing she could do as they were ushered toward a helicopter. As they buckled in, Tweedledee and Dum bracketed them on either side, sandwiching them between the two gang members. The blades started to rotate, the engine whirring and whining. They lifted off.
Fear, longing, and panic solidified in Mari’s throat as hard as stone. The landscape below them blurred as tears glazed across her eyes. Their situation looked dire, and sorrow filled her at the thought of never seeing her family again, of their pain and grief at the loss of two daughters, sisters. But what hurt like hell was that she wouldn’t ever see Buck again, never get the chance to apologize for her stupid, doubting behavior in a moment of weakness, for trying to run from her own revelations, instead of facing the truth. She didn’t want to be the face of the company anymore. She wanted to be free to do what she absolutely loved, roasting beans and making delicious, unending cups of coffee for the sheer enjoyment of it.
She wanted to be free to explore herself, find out who she really was, free to love Buck and be with him as much as his job would allow.
Regret deeply embedded in her, she looked out the window below to the lush, wild jungle, the canopy entangling into a dense ribbon of green, leaving the land below them veiled in darkness. They were heading toward the ocean in the distance, toward what looked like the Puntarenas province. They flew for about twenty minutes, then swung around toward a large white stucco mansion below them. When they touched down on the helipad, Mari noticed all the armed guards. They were everywhere, all over the grounds. This had to be one of their stash houses when the cocaine was smuggled by sea from Colombia.
