No One to Trust Read online

  Bantam Books by Iris Johansen

  No One to Trust

  Body of Lies

  Final Target

  The Search

  The Killing Game

  The Face of Deception

  And Then You Die

  Long After Midnight

  The Ugly Duckling

  Lion’s Bride

  Dark Rider

  Midnight Warrior

  The Beloved Scoundrel

  The Magnificent Rogue

  The Tiger Prince

  Last Bridge Home

  The Golden Barbarian

  Reap the Wind

  Storm Winds

  The Wind Dancer

  NO ONE TO TRUST

  A Bantam Book/October 2002

  All rights reserved.

  Copyright © 2002 by Johansen Publishing LLLP.

  No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the publisher.

  For information address: Bantam Books.

  LIBRARY OF CONGRESS CATALOGING-IN-PUBLICATION DATA

  Johansen, Iris.

  No one to trust / Iris Johansen.

  p.cm.

  eISBN: 978-0-553-89708-1

  1. Government investigators—Fiction. 2. Americans—Colombia—

  Fiction. 3. Women revolutionaries—Fiction. 4. Drug traffic—Fiction.

  5. Colombia—Fiction. I. Title.

  PS3560.O275 N58 2002

  813′.54—dc21 2002018396

  Bantam Books are published by Bantam Books, a division of Random House, Inc. Its trademark, consisting of the words “Bantam Books” and the portrayal of a rooster, is Registered in U.S. Patent and Trademark Office and in other countries. Marca Registrada. Bantam Books, 1540 Broadway, New York, New York 10036.

  v3.1

  Contents

  Cover

  Other Books by This Author

  Title Page

  Copyright

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Epilogue

  1

  Belim Prison

  Belim, Colombia

  A cockroach was crawling up her arm.

  Elena Kyler shuddered as she brushed it off. God, how she hated cockroaches. This cell was teeming with them, but at least they weren’t as bad as the rats.…

  Close it out. Life was not this cell. Go away from here. Think of something beautiful. Father Dominic had always told her that was the only way to endure the unbearable. But this situation was not truly unbearable. The unbearable would be to give in and let that bastard win. So she wouldn’t think of anything beautiful. She didn’t want to bring anything she valued into this filthy cell.

  She drew the blanket closer around her. So cold. It was warm during the day, but as soon as the sun set it became chilly. The cell was damper than the huts they’d kept her in on the way here, and the blanket she’d been issued was thin and worn. She hadn’t slept all night.

  Stop feeling sorry for yourself.

  There might be more opportunity here. These guards seemed more complacent and they didn’t know her. Just get ready. The time would come.

  She threw aside the blanket and started doing the warm-up that preceded her routine. She’d exercised four hours every day since they’d captured her and she was even stronger now. Without weapons, she had to be. She’d eaten every scrap of the meager rations they’d given her to maintain that strength and spent the rest of her waking time planning her escape.

  She’d be ready.

  San Francisco

  “Is he here?” Ben Forbes demanded as soon as he entered John Logan’s office. “Did you get hold of Galen?”

  “He’s here. Or rather he’ll be here in a few minutes.” Logan leaned back in the leather executive chair. “But he told me to warn you that he has no intention of taking the job. He said he’s had enough of all that bull happening in Colombia.”

  “Haven’t we all,” Forbes said wearily. “But it goes on and someone has to do something about it.”

  “Tell that to Galen. He lost two men on the last extraction job he did down there. He doesn’t like losing men. And he doesn’t like working with the DEA either. He wouldn’t even be coming to this meeting if you guys didn’t go way back.”

  “Not as long as the two of you,” countered Forbes. “Can’t you use your influence?”

  Logan shook his head. “Galen goes his own way, and you don’t stay his friend by trying to change his mind.”

  No one knew better than Forbes that Sean Galen walked to the beat of a different drummer. He had been everything from a mercenary to a smuggler, with a multitude of other shadowy careers in between. But, different or not, he was unquestionably the best at what he did. “I need him, Logan.”

  “He got paid over a million dollars for the extraction of that executive he did for Folger’s coffee. Can you match that?”

  “Nah,” Galen said, appearing at the doorway. “Not unless he’s suddenly gone on the take. And that’s not likely.” He strolled into the room. “How are you doing, Ben?”

  “I’ve been better.” He shook Galen’s hand. “But things could look up for me if you’d cooperate.”

  “I just came off a tough job. I’m on vacation.” He sat down in the visitor’s chair. “Logan and I are going deep-sea fishing.”

  “You’ll be bored,” Forbes said. “I have something more interesting for you.”

  “I could use a little boredom right now.” Galen grinned. “And my mum always said I didn’t play well with others. Particularly the feds. They always want to run the show.”

  “Shall I leave?” Logan asked.

  “Why should we run you out of your own office?” Galen asked. “This won’t take long.”

  Logan leaned back in his chair. “Okay. Pretend I’m not here.”

  That would be difficult to do, Forbes thought. John Logan was a powerhouse and not the least bit self-effacing. But then, that’s what it took to reach his position in the business world. It was strange looking at Galen and Logan together. They were as different as stone and quicksilver, and yet the closeness between them was almost visible. Forbes had heard the rumors about Logan’s involvement in some of Galen’s extremely dubious enterprises before Logan became a successful tycoon. Those experiences had clearly forged a bond with Galen that had stood the test of time. Could he use it? “Feel free to jump in, John. I know you contribute heavily to that drug rehab center in Los Angeles.”

  Logan shook his head. “You’re on your own.”

  Forbes sighed and turned back to Galen. “You wouldn’t have to worry about dealing with the U.S. government. No DEA intervention.”

  Galen’s brows raised. “You’re DEA.”

  “I’m working on my own on this one.”

  “Uncle Sam won’t like that.”

  “Tough. It’s part of the deal. It’s the first chance I’ve had to get Chavez in the last ten years.”

  Galen’s expression didn’t change, but Forbes could hear a new tone in his voice. “Chavez?”

  “Rico Chavez. The Chavez cartel. I believe you’ve had some experience with him.”

  “Two years ago.”

  “That’s when you lost your two men, isn’t it? You were trying to free William Katz, that coffee exec, from the band of rebels who were holding hi
m for ransom, but Chavez turned loose his men to help them. You weren’t expecting him to do that.”

  “Usually it’s the rebels protecting the drug lords down there. So you’re going after Chavez?”

  “I’ve been after Chavez for years. I almost got him a few times. This go-round I may have a chance, if you’ll help.”

  Galen’s gaze narrowed. “You want me to kill him?”

  “No, I want him here in the States, where we can prosecute him. I not only want him, I want to know who’s doing his distributing in this country.”

  “Chavez won’t come to the U.S. He’ll stay where he’s safe.”

  “Unless he has a good reason to come here.”

  Galen shook his head. “You’re out of luck.”

  “Maybe not. I got a call two months ago from a woman named Elena Kyler. She said she was with a band of rebels in southern Colombia and wanted me to help her get out and give her protection once she’s in the U.S. She said she was in possession of evidence that Chavez would find compelling enough to draw him out of Colombia.”

  “What evidence?”

  “She wouldn’t tell me. She asked me to meet her at a house outside a small village near Tomaco and we’d discuss it.”

  “Trap. Chavez wants to take your scalp, Ben.”

  “I’m not stupid. I checked with my informants among the rebels and there is an Elena Kyler. Her father was Frank Kyler, an American mercenary who went to Bogotá over thirty years ago. He married Maria Lopez, a left-wing freedom fighter with the Colombian National Liberation group. They had two children, Elena and Luis. Maria was murdered by government soldiers four years after Elena was born. Evidently, Elena and her brother were raised by their father, who was killed seven years ago. Both Elena and Luis were members of a rebel group in the hills.” He paused. “The hills surrounding Chavez’s coca fields. So there is a connection.”

  “You’re reaching for straws.”

  “I’ll find out when I see her. She wants me to meet her and be ready. It’s all she asked. It’s worth a shot.”

  “It’s not worth being shot.”

  He smiled bitterly. “Maybe it is. If we take Chavez out, it will dry up one of the largest suppliers in Colombia. That could save a hell of a lot of kids. You don’t like drug dealers any more than I do, Galen.”

  “But I’m more of a realist than you. This would be a finger in the dam. It’s a losing battle.”

  “Not this time.” He paused. “I’ve got a hunch.… I believe her.”

  “Good. Then go get her yourself.”

  “It may not be that easy. One of my informants told me that she was on the run from Chavez, that she’s disappeared.” He hesitated. “The word is that she’s been captured and is being held in a prison in Belim.”

  “A prison?”

  “It’s a government jail, but Chavez bribes the warden to house his special prisoners.”

  “Then she’ll be of no use to you. If she has any evidence, Chavez will have her tortured until she gives it up.”

  “Chavez is at an important meeting with the Delgado family in Mexico City. She may have a reprieve for a while. I’ve heard he likes to do his own dirty work.”

  He sighed. “Don’t tell me. Not just a pickup. You want me to bust her out and deliver her to you?”

  “It may be necessary.”

  “Forget it. Stage a DEA raid.”

  “And have the government yell bloody murder that we were overstepping our position as guests in their country?” He hesitated before adding reluctantly, “Besides, there may be informants in the agency.”

  “That hurt, didn’t it?” Galen said. “Hell, yes, there are informants. When there’s that much money floating around, corruption is a fact of life. You’re the only DEA man I’ve ever met that I’d trust without question.” He smiled. “You’re a throwback to another age. An untouchable. The Eliot Ness of the drug world.”

  “I don’t feel untouchable.” Forbes grimaced. “I feel dirty. I’ve been at this game too long. I want to see something good happen for once. Do this for me, Galen.”

  “A prison?” Galen shook his head. “Too big a risk. I don’t want to lose another man to that son of a bitch. I’m going fishing.”

  “Think about it. It would be an interesting challenge and a chance to thumb your nose at Chavez.” Forbes turned to leave. “I’ll call you in a few hours. There may not be much time. I don’t know how long Chavez’s meetings will last.” He stopped at the door and looked back at Galen. His expression told him nothing. Well, he had done all he could. He had thrown everything at him, from saving kids from drug overdoses to revenge against an old antagonist. Was it enough? Galen was one of the toughest bastards he had ever run across and as volatile as a keg of explosives. He would just have to wait and see.

  “What do you think?” Logan asked when the door had shut behind Forbes.

  “What do I think?” Galen repeated roughly. “I think someone’s setting him up. I think Chavez is probably tired of having a man as honest as Forbes after him and is going to stage an ambush.”

  “Forbes isn’t dumb.”

  “But he’s desperate. He wants this too much. He’s been in drug enforcement for over twenty-five years and it’s the most thankless job on the planet. After all these years Forbes needs to know he’s made a difference.” He crossed to the window and gazed out at the bay. “Crazy bastard.”

  “You like him.” Logan smiled. “And I think you admire him. You’ve always had a thing about Don Quixote.”

  “That doesn’t mean I’m going to help him tilt at his damn windmills.”

  “What’s the situation in Colombia now?”

  “No better than it’s been for the last forty years. The leftist rebels fight the government, the paramilitary fight the rebels and protect villages and sometimes the drug traffickers. The drug lords sit on their thrones and pay off everyone and probably control the entire shooting match.”

  “And Chavez is head of the drug faction?”

  “One of them. After the breakup of the Cali drug cartel, there was no longer a kingpin. The drug trade decentralized into several groups, which was just as profitable and safer. Keeping a low profile and using the Internet is the name of the game these days. Everything’s under the table. The only clear fact is that there’s hardly anyone in that entire country you can trust. Because almost everyone is on the take.”

  “It does sound a little suspect that this Elena Kyler would choose Forbes to ask for help.”

  “That’s the only part of this story that makes sense to me. Forbes has turned down promotion after promotion because he doesn’t want a desk job that would prevent him from personally tracking down drug suppliers. The DEA respects him and lets him run his own show, and his honesty is legendary among the guerrillas and paramilitary groups in the hills.” He smiled crookedly. “Believe me, they know who’s corruptible and who’s not. He’d be the obvious choice for Elena Kyler—if she was for real.”

  “Which, of course, she’s not.” Logan stood up and followed Galen over to the window. “Water looks a little choppy. Maybe it’s not a good week to go fishing.”

  “It looks fine to me. For God’s sake, do you know how many extractions I’ve done in Colombia? The blasted place has more kidnappings than anywhere else in the world. This is not my business, Logan. Hell, Forbes can’t even pay me.”

  “You’ve got enough money.”

  “Coming from a billionaire like you, that borders on the ridiculous.”

  Logan laughed. “It does, doesn’t it? Well, I need it more than you do. I have a family to support.” His smile faded. “The point is, you want to go.”

  “The hell I do.” He scowled. “It’s not my business. It’s all a bunch of lies. It’s too convenient that Chavez is in Mexico. That so-called evidence is probably bogus. The woman was more than likely bribed to lure Forbes.”

  “So Elena Kyler is not in that prison cell in Belim?”

  “Is that supposed to bring up a pit
iful picture and rouse my protective feelings? Bullshit.” He stared directly into Logan’s eyes. “She’s probably shooting up in some luxury flat paid for by Chavez. There’s no way Elena Kyler’s in that cell in Belim.”

  Belim

  It’s only my body, Elena told herself. And I am not my body. I am mind and heart and soul.

  “Good.” The guard plunged deep inside her, pressing her into the hard concrete cell floor. “Good little whore. You like it, don’t you?”

  “Yes.” I am not my body. I can accept this defilement. It wasn’t as bad as the time she was raped, because she’d chosen this. “I like it. You’re a bull, Juan.”

  Block it out. Go to another place, as she had during the rape. No, she couldn’t do that. She had to be ready.

  I am not my body.

  “Christ.” He arched with a guttural cry as he released within her.

  The moment of greatest weakness.

  Now.

  She lunged upward with a cry, her arms going around his neck. “Juan!”

  He was panting. “I pleased you. I made you come, didn’t I?”

  Her arms tightened around his neck. “What a man you are.…” She pulled him back down. “Come here.…”

  “You’re holding me too tight.” But there was smug satisfaction in his voice. “Give me a little time and I’ll be ready ag—”

  She gave a twist and broke his neck.

  He went limp on top of her. Jesus, he was heavy. She pushed him off and jumped to her feet, then pulled him into the shadows across the cell and draped a blanket around him. No use putting on clothes. As soon as the other guard came, she’d have to lie down with Juan and find a way to lure the man into the cell. He should be here soon. They’d flipped a coin to see who would go first with her and he’d been very disappointed.

  She huddled against the wall of the cell and tried to stop trembling. She felt hurt and bruised and violated. And dirty. Sweet Jesus, how dirty. She forced back the tears.

  I am not my body.

  I am not my body.

  “Meet me at the airport in twenty minutes,” Galen said curtly when Forbes picked up the phone. “You’ll do it?” Forbes said.