A bullet shattered the corner of the windshield.

"Down."

She released the seat belt and leaned down in the seat. The jeep was weaving back and forth on the road like a serpent on a sand dune.

Another shot.

"A miss," Galen muttered. "Same weapon. One sniper. If we can get out of range we'll make it. Idiot didn't aim for the tires…"

How far was it to safety? Eve wondered desperately. He'd said four miles but they were moving fast. Three? Two?

Another shot.

"He's out of range," Galen said. "Hold on. I have to keep zigzagging in case there's another sniper up ahead. Another minute and we'll be out of Diaz's territory."

"You hold on. And don't you dare get shot, dammit."

"I'm doing my best." He grinned down at her as he swerved back and forth on the road. "And that's pretty damn good. Admit it."

"I admit it. Superior. Stupendous. Now get us back to the compound."

"Home free." He made a sharp turn and they were suddenly enveloped in darkness. "You can sit up now."

She sat up and looked around.

Jungle. The thick, pervading darkness was caused by the overhanging foliage blocking out the night sky. "It's not what I call home." She gave a sigh of relief. "But it will do for now. Let's call Montalvo and check and see if he ran into the same trouble."

10

"Montalvo's phone is off," Galen said. "That could mean that he's not in the clear or that he's been captured by Diaz."

"Or that he's dead," Eve said.

"Don't be pessimistic." He paused. "Or maybe it's optimistic. That would end your obligation to do a job you don't want to do."

And it would end a chance to find Bonnie.

"You're not answering," Galen said.

"He didn't lie to me. I saw everything just the way he described it. I think what he told me about Diaz and his wife's skull was true."

"And that means you want him to live."

"Our aims aren't so far apart." She thought about the Montalvo she had come to know. "And I think he deserves to bring his wife home."

"And to blow Diaz out of the water?"

"Hell, yes. He almost killed Joe."

Galen chuckled. "And that deserves every punishment under the sun. For a complicated woman, you have a very simple code, Eve."

"I'm not complicated."

"No more than Lucrezia Borgia mixed with Mother Teresa."

"Call Montalvo again."

He dialed the number and this time Montalvo picked up.

"Ah, you're alive and kicking," Galen said. "We were wondering if you were dead. We had an interesting conversation on the pros and cons of your demise. Yes, we're out of the line of fire. Where are you? Oops." He hung up. "He started cursing. Can't blame him. I heard gunfire in the background. He probably only picked up because he wanted to know if you needed help."

"Evidently he's the one who needs help."

"We can't go back. He's on his own. He'll either get out or not." He glanced at her. "It's not our fault. As I said, if anything, we were a distraction. He had a plan, he has trained men. I think he'll wriggle out of it."

"I hope you're right. How close are we to the compound?"

"Not too far. Who knows? Montalvo may meet us at the gates."

Montalvo didn't meet them at the gates. It was Soldono who came toward them when they stopped the jeep in the courtyard.

"It's evidently not been a stress-free jaunt." Soldono's gaze was fixed on the bullet-splintered windshield. "Is either of you hurt?"

"No." Eve got out of the jeep. "But I don't know about Montalvo and his men. Have you heard from them?"

Soldono shook his head. "But I'm not someone in his confidence. He'd have no reason to report to me. Is there any reason why he shouldn't be?"

"Gunfire." Galen came around the jeep. "That's usually a pretty good sign of trouble, don't you think?"

"Perhaps." He shrugged. "But I can't pretend to be concerned. I've told you how I feel about gang wars, Eve. I don't see why you risked your neck when you should be trying to walk away."

"You don't have to see. It was my decision. Did you check on Joe?"

"Once." He held up his hand as he saw her frown. "It's only been four hours since you left."

"Four hours?" She checked her watch and he was right. It was still hard to believe. Those hours had been crammed so full with tension, it seemed as if days had gone by. "Montalvo estimated six hours."

"He's not always right. He must have built in time for disturbances like the one he ran into." He started up the steps. "I had the cook make a pot of coffee and bring it to the front parlor. I imagine you could use a cup."

"Not now." She sat down on the top step. "I think I'll wait for Montalvo."

Soldono shrugged. "Suit yourself." He disappeared into the house.

"Want company?" Galen asked.

"No, go check on Joe. I'd go myself but I believe he sensed something wrong when I went to see him before I left. He can read me even half knocked out with drugs."

"That doesn't surprise me," he said as he went inside the house.

Her gaze was fastened on the gates. Where the devil was Montalvo? If he hadn't been caught, he shouldn't be that far behind them.

Five minutes passed.

Ten minutes.

Fifteen.

Another ten minutes passed before she heard the roar of the truck engine. Two minutes later the truck and jeep entered the courtyard.

Relief poured through her. She jumped to her feet.

Jesus, the truck looked like it had been through a grenade attack in Iraq. Bullet indentations spiked the doors and hood, the passenger door hung half off its hinges. The jeep driven by Montalvo appeared to be in almost as bad shape.

"What happened?" she asked as Montalvo stopped the jeep and jumped out. "Galen said he heard gunfire."

"We got out of the cemetery and through the woods to the vehicles okay." He grimaced. "Well, almost okay. We were intercepted by a troop of Diaz's men and had a few tight minutes. We got out of it, but they radioed ahead and more were waiting for us on the road. They followed us into the jungle and we got out of the vehicles and staged an ambush at the tower."

"What tower?"

"There's a crumbling ancient tower used for religious ceremonies by the Chibcha Indians about forty miles from here. They probably threw down sacrifices from the top of the battlements. At any rate, the windows offer great views for snipers."

"And?"

He shrugged. "We're here, aren't we?" He reached into the jeep and pulled out a muddy leather container. "And we got what we went for. Nalia." He handed her the box. "She's in your hands now."

Nalia, his wife.

His voice was without expression, as was his face. No, not quite, she noticed. There was an almost indiscernible twitch at the corner of his mouth. His shoulders were squared and tense as if carrying a burden.

Burden? My God, he had yanked her skull from the grave with no care, no reverence. How would she have felt if she'd been forced to do that to her Bonnie?

"She'll be in very respectful hands," she said gently. "I'll treat her as if she were my friend. She'll be my friend before this is over."

"Thank you," he said jerkily. He turned on his heel and went into the house.

"It was hard for him." Miguel had gotten out of the jeep and was standing beside her. "It's good that you gave him comfort."

"I only told him the truth." She stared down at the box. "He did it himself, didn't he?"

"Yes. He wouldn't allow anyone else to touch her." He held out his hand. "Would you like me to take the skull to the library for you? The Colonel had me set up your equipment this afternoon. You should be ready to start tomorrow."

She ignored his outstretched hand. For some reason she didn't want to release the skull to anyone else. "I'll start tonight."


Перейти на страницу:
Изменить размер шрифта: