Vendetta Read online

  “Yes, she’s such a good girl.” Blanca’s eyes were filled with tears. “And so smart. I was teaching her English before this happened to her. She speaks it almost as well as I do. She’s all I have. The angels mustn’t take her from me.”

  “Then you tell them they have a job to do.” Rachel turned away. “Get your uncle moving, please. I’ll go warn the other villagers to leave, then catch up with you.”

  CHAPTER

  2

  Rachel heard the One World helicopter arrive fifteen minutes later and saw the blue lights spearing down toward the hospital clearing in the distance. She stopped on the trail, her gaze lifting to watch it descend. “Right on time,” she murmured to Blanca. “That’s good. They’ll be loaded and out of here in ten minutes, and an hour from now, they’ll be landing in Georgetown.”

  “And safe,” Blanca said. “You should be with them.”

  “No, I shouldn’t.” Rachel’s gaze was still on the helicopter. “I’m exactly where I should be. Maria needs me. My team doesn’t have any urgent use for me right—”

  The helicopter exploded into a thousand shards of flaming metal!

  “No!” Rachel gasped in shock and disbelief.

  Rachel watched in horror as the helicopter fell out of the sky like a gigantic burning insect. She heard Blanca sobbing beside her.

  Dead. That pilot had to be dead.

  What had happened? She wondered dazedly.

  And then she heard the gunfire from the direction of the hospital camp, and she knew what happened.

  Under attack.

  The guerrillas had shot the helicopter gas tank and ignited it.

  And now they were firing at the people on the ground.

  Her people. Her team.

  Phillip and Nancy and Bill. They all had handguns, but would they have time to reach them? It wasn’t as if they carried them around with them. Any weapons were probably in their luggage beside them as they waited for the helicopter to descend. She had her own weapon in her knapsack because she’d known she’d be traveling to Georgetown through the rain forest. And what if they were already wounded by that barrage of bullets? She had to help them. She grabbed her knapsack from the stretcher. “Blanca, take Maria the rest of the way. I’ll be back as soon as I can.”

  “Don’t leave her,” Blanca said frantically. “You said you’d stay with her. You promised me.”

  “I’ll come back for her. You’ve told me how to get to that cave. I swear it. Nothing will stop me.” Then she was running back through the rain forest toward the hospital area.

  Smoke.

  The smell of fuel.

  Heat.

  She was still at least thirty minutes away, and she could feel that heat.

  And the firing was still going on.

  Stay in the trees. Don’t go running out in the open. Find Phillip or Nancy or Bill and try to help them get away.

  Why were the guerrillas still shooting? Maybe that was a good thing. It meant her team was still alive, didn’t it?

  And then the shooting stopped.

  No!

  She stopped and listened. She couldn’t hear anything but the crackling flames in the distance.

  She was still fifteen minutes away. Was that going to be fifteen minutes too long?

  Be careful. Be silent. Move as Hu Chang had taught her to move all those years ago.

  Still no firing from the direction of that inferno ahead.

  Please. Let them be alive.

  Fifteen minutes later, she’d reached the edge of the hospital clearing. She stood there in the shadows of the trees gazing in horror.

  The tents were burning.

  The helicopter was burning.

  But no one was there. It was as if the guerrillas had struck, destroyed, then faded back into the rain forest as swiftly as they had come. She stood there, staring, because she was realizing that she was wrong. There was someone there.

  Just no one alive.

  As she moved out of the shadows, she saw Nancy Kavitz’s body crumpled beside a tree near the burning helicopter. Her eyes were wide open, staring into nothingness. She’d been shot in the chest.

  Rachel moved toward the hospital tent as she saw a glimpse of something just inside the torn canvas.

  Bill Pallis had been shot, then sliced with a machete and thrown into the burning tent.

  She stared at him, feeling sick. So young and eager. He’d just graduated med school last year and had wanted to save the world.

  And Phillip? Where was he? Where was she going to find Phillip Sanford?

  She was almost afraid to look around the other tents. She could still see the flames licking around Bill’s body. Look. Find Phillip. Maybe he needed help …

  “Ah, Morales said that you must still be here. No one believed him but me. Turn around very slowly, chica. Or I’ll put a bullet in that pretty red hair.”

  She froze. The man was speaking Spanish, and he probably had a gun in his hand.

  She slowly turned to face him. Slick black hair, brown-and-green leather jacket, discolored yellow teeth. “You did … this?”

  “I only took out the helicopter.” He was looking at a photo in his hand. “Yes, you’re the one he’s looking for. They’re running all over the forest searching for you, but I get the bonus. Let’s go to camp and see Morales.”

  “No.” As far as she could see, he was alone. She had a better chance with him than she would with this Morales and his men. “I don’t know any Morales. Let him come to me.”

  He laughed incredulously. “I could shoot you, bitch. Do what I say.”

  “You might shoot me anyway. And I don’t think I want to know what your friends might do to me at your camp. Morales can come to me.” Her hand tightened on her knapsack. It would take only a moment to grab the gun from under the flap, but that might be too long. He had his own gun pointed at her. “I’m not moving.”

  “Then I’ll knock you out and drag you.” He was striding toward her. “And maybe I’ll take the time to play a little before I share you with—”

  She whirled in a roundhouse kick and connected with his chin.

  He grunted and staggered backward.

  She followed it with a kick that sent his gun flying from his hand. Then another kick to the back of his knees that caused him to start to fall.

  Then she took off flying herself.

  Head for the trees.

  She could hear him cursing behind her. Then the sound of him crashing through the brush …

  He was so close …

  She hadn’t slowed him down for more than thirty seconds. But sometimes that was enough. He was big, and he had a long stride, but she was light and fast. She was working frantically at the flap of her knapsack. Grab the gun. Duck behind a tree and fire.

  She had the gun!

  She dropped the knapsack on the ground and sprinted toward the—

  Tackled!

  She hit the ground hard. She hadn’t thought he was that close. She struggled to turn over and point the gun.

  “Be still.” His hand was on her neck. She was suddenly disoriented. “Now keep quiet.”

  She was dizzy. The words were English, not Spanish as it had been before.

  But now the man was speaking over his shoulder to someone in Spanish as he stood up. “I got her. I was the one who took her down and knocked her out. Now do we share or—” He broke off and leaped forward with lightning speed. His hand knifed down in a karate chop and hit the carotid artery of the man walking toward him.

  A man wearing a brown-and-green jacket with slick black hair … The man who had tried to take her to Morales. His knees gave way, and he collapsed. Dead?

  “Get up.” The man who had tackled her had turned back and was roughly jerking her to her feet. “We have to get out of here. These woods are crawling with Morales’ men. Can you walk?”

  English again.

  She shook her head to clear it. “Who are you?”

  “Brandon. Can you walk?” he rep
eated as he bent and retrieved her gun from the ground where she’d dropped it. “I don’t have time for questions if you want to live through the night.” He handed her the gun. “From what I saw, you do.”

  She looked down at the gun. She didn’t know what was happening, but now she had a way of defending herself. And he had given it to her. So he probably wasn’t one of the guerrillas. And she was familiar with the deadly military precision with which he had moved. “I can walk.” She touched her neck. It was sore, and she was still dizzy, but some of the disorientation was disappearing. “And you probably know that. You’re very good at what you do.” She looked back at the smoking inferno in the clearing. “Let’s get out of here.”

  He nodded and turned on his heel. “I’ll get you out. You just keep up with me.”

  * * *

  And she kept up with him.

  She could tell that he expected nothing else. He never looked back as he moved through the rain forest for the next two hours. Twice he made her stop and drew her in another direction as he saw two of Morales’ men on the trail ahead. But he did it with hand signals, then continued on the trail.

  Dawn was breaking when he finally stopped and let her catch up with him. “Wait.” He was on his phone. “I have her. Area secured?” He evidently got the right answer because he hung up and turned toward her. “We’re as safe as we can be for the time being. We’ve had sentries along the trail for the past three miles. The helicopter is just ahead.”

  Just ahead was close to another mile. And the helicopter was very large, gray, and looked like something from a SEAL operation. Probably an Apache. She stopped, gazing at it. Military, again …

  “Get on board,” Brandon said curtly. “Nate and Monty will be here in a few minutes, and we’ll bring in the team and take off.”

  “Will we? I don’t believe I want to get on your helicopter. Not right now. I’m going to rest.” She dropped down on the ground beneath a banyan tree. Don’t shake. Don’t show weakness. He wouldn’t understand it. She couldn’t remember the last time she had slept, and every step she’d taken since she’d left the hospital clearing had hammered the memory of what she’d seen there deeper into her mind. “I’ve got to think, and I can’t be rushed, Brandon.” She looked at him. “It is Brandon? You hurled your name at me at a time when I wasn’t thinking very straight.”

  “Jude Brandon.” He looked down at her. “And you appeared to be acting, if not thinking, very coherently at the time. I only took you down because I was afraid you’d do something to get in my way.”

  “And I might have done that.” She concentrated on keeping her voice steady. “Since I didn’t know who you were, and I’d just seen two of my team, who were also my friends, butchered. Emotion tends to get in the way when that happens.”

  “Yes, it does. I’m sorry it happened. But you’re handling it very well.” His gaze was searching her face. “Unless you’re going to have a delayed reaction and fall apart on me soon.”

  “Possibly. But it won’t happen soon. I can hold on until I get through what has to be done.”

  “What has to be done is getting you out of here. And you will be rushed, Rachel. But we can spare a few minutes. I’d built in a little more time because I thought you’d not be this strong.”

  She didn’t feel strong. “Self-preservation is an amazing stimulator. But you probably also know that.” She leaned back against the trunk of the tree and looked at him. He was all in black, tall, and muscular, but there was a tough leanness about his entire body. His hips and buttocks tight, his stomach flat. She remembered how powerful his body had been above her in that moment when he’d taken her down. Even when he was in motion, he’d given off an aura of stillness and containment. His face was also lean, with high cheekbones framing deep-set blue eyes. Cold, watchful eyes. “You’re Special Forces, aren’t you?”

  His brows rose. “Am I?”

  She nodded. “I think so. You have the look. I grew up seeing men like you drop into my father’s office or fade in and out of his life. He found people with your talents very helpful.”

  “I imagine Venable would.”

  “You know him? Did he send you to save us?”

  “In a manner of speaking.”

  “That’s not good enough. I’m too tired and scared to play games. Why does the CIA think no one should know anything but them? It’s as if they’re some kind of gods handing out divine providence. Was it Catherine Ling? She was worried about those damn rumbles.” She rubbed her eyes. “But whoever sent you screwed up. They should have sent someone who knew what they were doing. You didn’t do your job, Brandon.”

  His lips tightened. “I did my job.”

  “Bill Pallis is dead. Nancy Kavitz is dead.” She struggled to keep her voice even. “I don’t know about Phillip Sanford. I didn’t see him.” She held her breath as she asked, “Did … you?”

  “No, I was a little preoccupied trying to find you. You were my job. Nate may know what happened to him. You can ask him when he gets here. He had orders to get the big picture and smooth the way out.”

  “The big picture…” She closed her eyes. “Yes, I can see every detail of that big picture. It’s engraved on my memory. My father is very fond of the big picture. Bill Pallis was only twenty-seven. He doesn’t have any picture at all right now.”

  “Unfortunate. Good men die. Is this where you fall apart on me?”

  “No.” She opened her eyes. “I just have to know what’s happening, so I can decide which way to go. And you’re not helping, Brandon. You may not be as callous as you appear, because you probably think that you have to use the spur to keep me going.” She met his eyes. “I keep myself going. I always have. So the only thing you have to worry about is casting some light on all this darkness. If you want me to cooperate, you’ll do that.” She paused. “So let’s start with you. Special Forces? What branch?”

  He was silent. “Rangers. Several years ago. I’m no longer with the military.”

  “You’re CIA?”

  “No way.”

  “But you’re here trying to get me out. Hu Chang?”

  He smiled crookedly. “I’m definitely not an errand boy for your old friend.” He made an impatient gesture. “Look, we can go into this later. All you need to know is that I came to get you when I heard you might be targeted by Fidel Morales and his Liberation terrorist group. Not in time. We saw the One World helicopter blow up just as we were landing several miles north. By the time we got to the hospital site, it was too late for your team. But you weren’t with them, so I told my men not to engage Morales’ men and instead hunt you down before Morales found you.” His lips twisted. “So you can see that I’m not as secretive as you apparently think.”

  “Yes you are,” she said wearily. “Men like you always have secrets they don’t share with anyone. And you always have an agenda that drives you.”

  “Men like me?” he repeated softly. “I don’t believe I like being grouped and thought predictable. But I’ll let that slide for now. I just need to get you out of here before I—” He broke off as he saw two men in camouflage fatigues coming out of the trees. “What’s the word, Nate?”

  The smaller man with dark, curly hair shrugged as he came toward them. “They’re still looking for her. Evidently, the price on her head was fairly high. But they’re not in this area yet. We should be safe for a little while.” He turned toward Rachel. “How are you doing?” He took a thermos out of his backpack and handed it to her. “Coffee. I’m Nate Scott. This is Monty Caplan. Sorry you’ve had such a rough time, Dr. Venable.”

  “Rachel.” She took a swallow of the coffee. It was hot, black, and felt good going down. “Thank you. I appreciate the concern.” She glanced warily at Brandon. “Providing you’re not playing Bad Cop–Good Cop with me?”

  Nate grinned. “Has he been giving you a hard time? You’ll be okay. You don’t work for him. Now, I’m just a humble employee. But I’m still allowed to have opinions.”

 
“Sometimes,” Monty Caplan said dryly. He turned to Brandon. “When can we leave? Nate has to bring those men out of that rain forest.”

  “Have them back at the plane in twenty minutes. We leave in thirty.”

  “I don’t think so,” Rachel said.

  Brandon turned to face her. “But I do,” he said. “And you haven’t been given a vote, Rachel Venable.”

  “I have a vote if you don’t want me to run back here the minute you land this helicopter,” she said fiercely. “And I will, no matter whether that’s in Georgetown or Washington, DC. Evidently you’ve been given orders to keep me alive and get me out of here. I don’t know if you’ve been paid or been given a contract by the CIA or someone else. But at some point you’re going to have to have my cooperation. So I definitely have a vote, Brandon.”

  Nate gave a low whistle. “Now you have to admit that’s logical, Brandon.”

  She whirled toward Nate. “And you’re the one I want to talk to anyway. You have the big picture.” She moistened her lips. “Where does Dr. Phillip Sanford fit into that picture? Did they kill him, too?”

  “Not unless they did it in the last thirty minutes.”

  She let her breath out. “He’s alive? Wounded?”

  Nate nodded. “Leg. The report said he was hobbling when he was brought into Morales’ camp.” He added gently, “He has a chance to stay alive even if Morales doesn’t think he can trade him for you. He’s a bigwig doctor and he might be able to get ransom for him. His Liberation Unity group doesn’t get the opportunity to get their hands on a high-profile medic very often.”

  “A chance? He’s got to stay alive.” But he was alive now, and that was wonderful. She hadn’t realized how frightened she had been until this moment. She had probably been too numb with shock to think about it. “And why would this Morales trade Phillip for me? As you said, he’s a bigwig. I have to be less than nothing to Morales.”

  “Not true. You’re cash in the hand,” Brandon said. “And the reason he hit the One World hospital site.” His gaze was searching her face. “Haven’t you really made the connection yet? Why would Morales have given photos to all his men so that they could recognize you on sight?”