Page 33 of Dangerous Liaisons

Chapter Twenty-Three

That evening, Jesse pushed open the flimsy louver doors of the cantina across the street from the seedy hotel where she was staying. The odors of tobacco smoke and stale booze rolled over her. She cut short a grimace when half a dozen grimy men seated at the bar and tables glanced at her. Until now, she hadn’t thought much of Ernesta’s choice of a peasant girl disguise: baggy cargo pants, white t-shirt, no bra, thick, brown wig, and dark makeup. Jesse had a feeling the girl meant to stir up some action.

Jesse let the louver doors swing shut behind her. Just before the room plunged back into shadow, she spotted Cole hunched over a bottle of Tres-Xs and a shot glass in a corner booth near the rear exit, just as she had instructed in her email. She had made him wait an hour and a half while she watched from the hotel to be sure none of his associates had followed him.

She maintained the posture of an indentured peasant; slumped shoulders, downcast eyes, face shielded by stringy hair, and none of the men paid any attention as she shuffled past the tables to Cole’s booth. She’d staked out the place well before choosing it as a meeting site, but still marveled how much it looked like a saloon straight from an old western movie, complete with bar mirror, rickety round tables, wooden chairs, and a brass spittoon at each end of the scuffed oak bar.

Jesse slid into the seat beside Cole, which gave her full view of the room, and spoke low in Portuguese, “I found Green Team.”

Shock flickered across his features, then disappeared. He slipped an arm around her shoulders. Jesse frowned, then realized his intent when he looked over the top of her head and called to the bartender, “Dos cervezas, por favor.”

Cole looked at her and said in a quiet tone, “What did you do, Jess?”

Before she could halt the memory, Robert Mills’ fingers sticking up through fresh dirt flashed across her mental vision.

“Jess.”

Her mind jumbled.

“Jess.”

She jarred back to the cantina and Cole’s arm, warm around her shoulders.

“What is it?” he demanded, and Jesse realized a tear was slipping down her cheek.

She exhaled a slow breath. “I gave Martinez’s family closure. You can do the same for Green Team’s loved ones.” And yourself, she silently added. “Use the team you brought.”

Cole’s gaze sharpened and she tensed with the realization that his mind was working at lightning speed and he was just smart enough to ask questions she didn’t want to answer.

He nodded. “We’ll get Green Team home.”

Relief threatened to bring a bona fide rush of tears.

“About that team,” he said, and Jesse froze. “They’re not the men you spotted at the airport.”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean, you haven’t spotted my team.”

She stared. “You’re telling me you brought not one, but two teams?”

“I let Lanton send a team.” She started to interject, but he cut her off. “You want him to suspect I have doubts?” Cole shook his head. “Don’t worry. I carefully chose my own team; four men with ties to the men we lost in Colombia. They don’t know anything about our deal.” Jesse lifted a brow, and he added, “They want you, don’t mistake that, but they’re soldiers to the core and will follow my orders without question.”

Like you do Lanton’s, she wondered?

“Every one of them has a horse in this race.” Cole removed his arm from her shoulders. A draft swept across her neck as he ticked off his fingers one by one: “Caruthers, Fletcher, Young, and Roush. Caruthers was Quinn’s partner for seven years. Sal got Fletcher the job with Green Team. Young and Benton were roommates at Annapolis and got each other through Naval Aviator training. Young is engaged to Benton’s sister. Roush and Pete were a team in Green Team. When offered a spot in Blue Team, Pete refused because he’d have to leave Roush behind. Robby is the only one who didn’t have ties.”

Jesse’s heart twisted painfully.

Cole took a breath. “If you’re right about Lanton, they’ll rip him limb from limb.”

Unexpected rage rushed to the surface. The first thing Hwuang Kano taught her was that her physical prowess, her ability to kick ass, was a tool, nothing more. Anger had no place in getting the job done. She had always been able to maintain that belief—until now. Was it Cole that incited this cold rage? No. It was the same helpless feeling she experienced when her mother stuck Amanda in an institution.

“Don’t worry,” he said as if reading her mind. “Things aren’t as out of control as they seem.”

She gave hear head a slow shake. “Lanton murdered seven men and a little girl and is still Green Leader. How much more out of control does it need to get? Listen, Tex, this is my mission. If you can’t live with that—” She broke off at hearing someone approach, and snuggled close to Cole’s unyielding body.

He slipped his arm around her again and she grimaced at the realization that meeting in a public bar had been a bad idea. She remembered their private meeting in her hotel room and the warmth of his hands on her body. That hadn’t been any better.