Jesus, he must be a mind reader. That was exactly how she felt.
“And the answer to all those questions is no,” he said softly. “And yes, and yes. You’ve done the right thing for both of us. And I won’t let you regret it.”
She tore her gaze away from his. “We’ll see.” She shifted her eyes to the woman who was hurrying toward the helicopter with two children in tow. She stiffened. “Where’s Gonzales?”
“Ye of little faith. Not that I don’t approve of suspicion.” He waved his hand again. “Soldono is bringing Gonzales separately. I wanted the bastard to sweat up to the last minute about whether I’d actually let him go.”
“Cruel.”
“He deserves it. He betrayed me. He’s lucky to get out with his skin.”
She watched the thin, dark man bolt out of the hut and run toward the aircraft. He cast one panicky glance at Montalvo and then dove into the helicopter. A moment later the door was closed and the rotors whirled. “I’d say he was sweating even enough to please you.”
“No. I don’t like traitors. Even Soldono didn’t object when I decided to punish him a little. He knows Gonzales got off lucky.” He turned to the man coming toward him. “Don’t you, Soldono?”
Soldono was a tall, lean, sandy-haired man in his thirties who looked rawhide-tough. “I guess you could say that. He’s not dead.” He held out his hand to Eve. “Mark Soldono, CIA. I’m sorry for my part in involving you with this mess. I hope you’ll let me do everything to make your stay easier at the compound.”
She felt a surge of relief. “You’re coming with us?”
He grimaced. “Montalvo wanted to provide you with a sense of security. I guess that’s me.” His glance shifted to the helicopter that was lifting off the ground. “Though you’ve done a better job than I have so far. I don’t like the price you paid but thanks anyway.”
“It wasn’t all about Gonzales,” Eve said. “He was just a fringe benefit.”
Montalvo chuckled. “I enjoy your turn of phrase. ‘Fringe benefit’…” He got into the driver’s seat of the jeep. “I’ll have to see what other fringe benefits I can find for you.”
“You can’t beat a human life.”
“Yet neither of us is here because of life, but death. What does that say?” He started the jeep. “Never mind. It’s not fair to argue philosophy when you’re so tired. Sit back and relax. It’s ten miles to the compound. The last mile has three checkpoints.”
“You’re very careful.”
“It’s how I’ve stayed alive for all these years. I’m an old man for my business.”
“Forty-two?”
“You’ve been asking questions. Forty-one, actually.”
“And running guns is so dangerous?”
He shrugged. “Everyone in this part of the world wants weapons, and if they can get them without paying, then they’ll do it. Weapons are like drugs. The more you have, the more you think you need.”
“How very profitable for you.”
“Yes, it is.” He turned to look at her. “Do you want to discuss it? I’ll be happy to do it, but it’s not a subject that’s going to make us get along with any degree of harmony.”
She gazed at him for a moment before glancing away. She hadn’t expected him to be like this. No anger, no ugliness, every antagonistic remark met with calm control. She had realized he was intelligent and persuasive, but often when people got what they wanted they changed. “I don’t believe anything is going to make our relationship harmonious. But there’s no use doing anything to make it worse.” She leaned against the back of the seat. “All we have to do is survive each other.”
“Very sensible.” He looked back at Soldono. “Perhaps I didn’t need you after all, Soldono. She doesn’t seem at all nervous with me.”
“She’s barely met you,” Soldono said dryly. “Give her an hour or two. I’m staying, Montalvo.”
Montalvo smiled. “Of course you are. I just thought I’d ruffle you a bit so that you could show Eve how forceful and determined you can be.” He turned on the CD player. “Chopin. That’s your favorite, isn’t it?”
Yes, she loved Chopin. She could feel a chill go through her. How the hell did he know a little detail like that?
“Sorry.” Montalvo turned the CD off. “I intended to make you feel comforted, not threatened. Okay, no music. No conversation.”
The knowledge that he had read her response so easily wasn’t guaranteed to make her feel less threatened. She looked straight ahead. “Do what you like. It doesn’t bother me.”
He didn’t answer and when she shot him a glance it was to see a faint smile on his face.
Let him smile, she thought wearily. Let him feel confident and powerful and all-knowing. She needed a night’s sleep to fully recover from the emotional and physical drain that was sapping her of strength. She’d deal with Montalvo tomorrow.
The compound was encircled by high stucco walls and looked like an armed fort. No, it was an armed fort, Eve saw as she entered the tall wooden gates into the courtyard. The battlements were manned by guards with rifles. Mounted at two points she noticed something even more threatening.
“Missiles?” she asked as she got out of the jeep. “My God, are you preparing for a war?”
“I’m always prepared for war. That’s what keeps it at bay.” He took her luggage out of the jeep. “But you’ll be relieved to know they aren’t nuclear.”
“That makes me feel much better,” she said sarcastically. “No wonder the CIA is so interested in you.”
“One has to be a bit special to earn such interest. It’s quite flattering.”
“Don’t be flattered,” Soldono said as he got out of the jeep. “You’d be surprised at the scum we deal with.”
“No, I wouldn’t.” He turned to a tall, good-looking man dressed in khakis who was approaching. “This is Miguel Vicente. He’ll show you to your room. There are guards in the hall. If you need anything during the night, just ask one of them to get it for you. I have breakfast at nine. I’ll send Miguel to get you tomorrow morning and bring you to the dining room.”
As she looked at him, she realized that Miguel was more boy than man. Probably not more than nineteen or twenty. But he also wore a holstered pistol on his hip. Good God, talk about an armed camp.
He smiled. “If you’ll come this way, Ms. Duncan.”
“Miguel doesn’t have to come for you in the morning, I’ll do it,” Soldono said. “Good night. Sleep well.”
She nodded. “Good night, Soldono.” She inclined her head in a cool acknowledgment of Montalvo before she followed Miguel.
Jesus, she’d need a guide in this place, she thought as she moved through polished rosewood halls and chandelier-lit staircases. It was a bloody palace. The beauty of hand-carved chests and velvet drapes was in complete contrast to the military encampment outside these front doors.
And the room to which Miguel took her was as luxurious and beautifully furnished as the rest of the house.
“I hope you’re comfortable here,” Miguel said. “I was told you must be happy. Does it please you?”
He was frowning anxiously and she was once more aware of how young he was. “It’s fine.”
“Truly?”
She nodded as she gazed around the room. More carving on the headboard, fine Persian rugs on polished wood floors. “It’s like something out of a Zorro movie.”
He smiled. “I saw that movie, but he was in prison a good deal of the time. I hope that’s not what you meant.”
“No, strictly Spanish hidalgo.” She went to the huge bed where Miguel had placed her bags. “Do you work in the house?”
He shook his head. “Only for you. I’m a soldier for the Colonel.”
“Colonel?”
He opened the French doors. “Colonel Montalvo.”
“Montalvo?” She stared at him in bewilderment. “If he’s an officer, it must be purely self-assumed.”
“I’m a soldier for the Colonel,” he re
peated. “The bath is the door to the left. May you sleep well.” He was gone before she could answer.
A colonel? Oh, well, maybe he liked the idea of styling himself as an officer to match his little army here at the compound. She wouldn’t have thought he would be that vain. No, that’s right, Galen had mentioned something about him being with the rebels but nothing about being an officer.
But what did she know? She’d only scratched the surface of the man. If she was lucky, she’d not have to dig any deeper. She’d finish the job he gave her. She’d demand the payment he’d offered and be off and back to the lake cottage. Dear God, and perhaps if Montalvo kept his word, she’d be at peace at last.
If Joe would allow her to come back to him. He’d be hurt and angry and he wasn’t going to be easy or forgiving. In his eyes her greatest sin would be leaving him behind. He’d been through too much with her.
Don’t think about Joe. It hurt too much. She felt very much alone in this big, palatial room so different from the small, comfortable cottage to which she was accustomed. She wanted to go home.
Stop whining. She grabbed her nightshirt out of the suitcase and headed for the bathroom. Take a shower. Go to bed. Tomorrow she’d dive into work and close everything else out.
The skull.
Montalvo hadn’t given her any details about it. She should have asked him on the way here but she’d deliberately avoided it. She had been going through too much emotional trauma to want to concentrate on anything but taking the first steps to adjusting.
Tomorrow she would ask about the skull.
She hadn’t asked about the skull.
Montalvo leaned back in his office chair and opened the well-thumbed Eve Duncan dossier on his desk. He was tired but he knew he couldn’t sleep. The adrenaline was still flowing through him like strong wine. Or maybe it was the meeting with Eve that was intoxicating. She was as strong as he’d expected but that hint of vulnerability had struck him by surprise. He supposed it shouldn’t; he’d studied her, listened to her lecture tapes, read everything he could find about her. This picture in her dossier didn’t do her justice. Her body was slim and strong, but the fineness of her bones gave her a breakable fragility that was highly provocative, almost sexual.
He’d expected Eve to confront him the moment she arrived and it hadn’t happened. Not that he wasn’t relieved. The longer he could put off her questions the better.
He looked up as Miguel came into the room. “How is she?”
“Well. She appeared tired.” He hesitated. “She’s…pleasant. She’s not going to be hurt, is she?”
“Not if we can help it. One can never be sure. You know that, Miguel.”
“Yes, I know that. It’s just…I think I like her.”
“So do I. Same answer.”
He nodded. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean—” He rushed on to another subject. “I took a message on the house phone. It was Delk from Atlanta. He said that he’d been trying to reach you on your cell.”
“I had it turned off. I didn’t want to disturb our guest with listening to my business calls. She’s a bit sensitive to my occupation.” He chuckled. “No, she thinks I’m Satan. But then she’s never met Satan. What was the message?”
“Joe Quinn left today on the six-thirty jet for Bogotá.”
Montalvo’s smile faded. “Already? He didn’t waste time.”
“You said he’d be coming.”
Montalvo shrugged. “I thought perhaps I might have a day or two to prepare. Sometimes men have difficulty dealing with the initial emotions of anger and rejection and have to work their way through them. It seems I was wrong. It just means we’ll have to move faster.”
“Do you want him dead?”
“No, I promised I wouldn’t kill him. Which makes it even more difficult.”
“I could do it for you. I made no promise.”
“It’s an implied promise that would include my men.”
Miguel smiled. “But I don’t understand implications. I’m just an ignorant boy from the country. My father is in trouble so I must help him.”
He frowned. “I’m not your father. For God’s sake, I killed your father.”
“And must supply me with another to replace him. I chose you.”
“Miguel, you chose wrong. Leave while you—” He broke off. “You’re not listening.”
“I listened. I won’t kill Joe Quinn. You want to wait until you can do it yourself.” He turned. “I’ll go and tell the men to be on the alert for Quinn. Will he really come after her against such heavy odds?”
“I would.”
Miguel stopped at the door to look curiously at him over his shoulder. “Why?”
“She’s an extraordinary woman. You don’t find one like her every day. You’re lucky to find one in a decade.”
“Yet you may let her die.”
“Yes, I may let her die.” He looked down at the dossier in front of him. “Any news from Diaz?”
“No. But they must be missing Aquila. They’ll either send someone else or make another move.”
“You’ve become very canny about strategy.”
Miguel smiled again. “I’m my father’s son.” He strolled out of the study.
Montalvo muttered a curse beneath his breath. He had to do something about Miguel. He’d sent him away before but he always came back. No, admit it, he’d let him come back because he was a selfish bastard and he was closer to the boy than to anyone else in the world.
He closed the dossier and stood up. He’d worry about Miguel after all this was over. Hell, he might be on the run himself by that time and that would make the problem of sending the boy away from him a moot point.
Now he’d go to bed and get a good night’s sleep and prepare himself for the confrontation with Eve tomorrow morning.
And try to think of a plan to get rid of Joe Quinn without actually doing the job himself.
6
Eve was dressed and ready when Soldono knocked on her door the next morning.
“How did you sleep?” Soldono asked when she opened the door. “You look a little tired.”
“I’m fine.” She joined him in the hall. “And yes, I had a lousy night. What do you expect?”
“I expected a sleepless night and a few regrets. What I didn’t expect was for you to come down here and put yourself under Montalvo’s thumb.” He grimaced. “Though I’m grateful that you saved my bacon by getting Gonzales out of here. I was going to have to do something myself and that could have been fatal.”
“Montalvo’s attitude toward you didn’t appear to be antagonistic.”
“No, but he has rules, and Gonzales broke one of the major laws that govern his men. If I got in the way, he wouldn’t think twice about killing me.”
“Laws. Rules. A military compound. This man is a criminal running a criminal organization. What’s happening here?”
He shrugged. “Search me. It works for him. His men are loyal and thoroughly intimidated by him.” He paused. “And they admire him. That keeps them in line more than any other factor. We had a devil of a time locating one of his men who’d turned traitor to him. It took me more than eighteen months to find Gonzales and another three to persuade him.”
“How did you do it?”
“Money. A great deal of money and a promise to get him away before Montalvo found out.”
“Which you didn’t do.” Her gaze wandered around the hall they were going down. “This is a palace. I was surprised when I got here. It was weird to see a place like this in the middle of the jungle. Montalvo evidently likes his creature comforts.” And he had appeared perfectly at home here last night, she remembered. Civilized, graceful, handsome. “He built a military fort and then set himself up as emperor.”
“According to Gonzales, he didn’t build either the fort or the palace. About ten years ago he took them from a Hector Caranda who was the local drug lord in the area.”
“Took?”
“Caranda and his men aren’t a
round any longer. I imagine if you looked hard around the jungle you might find their graves.”
“Wonderful.” She looked at him. “You don’t appear upset.”
“If criminals fight criminals, it leaves less for us to get rid of. They can all kill each other for all I care.” He gestured to the curved arch just ahead. “The breakfast room. His Highness awaits.”
“I’m flattered, Soldono,” Montalvo said from behind them. “I was wondering if you noticed my regal air.” He nodded at Eve. “He’s been filling your ears with poison about me. Probably most of it is true, but it’s still unpleasant.” He waved her into the room. “And I don’t ‘await.’ I’ve been busy working since six.”
He held her chair for her at the gleaming oak table. “To keep myself calm and harness my anticipation for our meeting this morning.” His gaze raked her face. “I see you’ve also been anticipating it. Perhaps with not so much eagerness but definitely with curiosity.” He waved his hand and a white-coated servant appeared from the door across the room. “I understand you don’t eat a large breakfast so I ordered eggs, bacon, and a piece of toast.”
“That’s too much.”
He smiled. “And in case you said that, I ordered orange juice and coffee and a bagel. Sit down, Soldono. You’re boringly predictable. He always has French toast and Canadian bacon, Eve. You wouldn’t think he had a sweet tooth, would you?”
“I don’t know him. I wouldn’t speculate on what he’d like.”
“What about me?” He sat down across from her. “By all means, speculate.”
She met his gaze. “I think you already had your breakfast at six. Probably something light. Juice, coffee…maybe toast.”
He chuckled. “Right. Except for the toast. I always have a tortilla. It brings back memories of my childhood. One of the pleasant ones. It’s always best to hold on to whatever happy memories we can revisit. Don’t you agree?”
She lifted her orange juice to her lips. “Why are you talking about food and childhood memories? I don’t give a damn about your blasted tortilla. I’m not here to socialize or to get to know you. I came here to do a job.”
“Yes, you did.” He leaned back in his chair and gazed at her. “You look exceptionally good in all the light pouring into this room. Not many women can bear daylight truth but it wraps around you as if it loves you. I wondered how you’d look having breakfast here.”