Resurrection, page 9
part #1 of Redemption Harbor Series
“What are you holding back?” Savage asked quietly, the question breaking through the light conversation they’d been having.
It was as if everyone wanted to avoid talking about her being gone, or about the Ramirez cartel. Instead they’d been talking about silly stories from high school or holidays. She wanted to focus on reality.
“What the hell are you talking about? My wife just got back from a living hell.” Mercer’s entire body tightened under her, her husband looking as if he wanted to jump up and pummel Savage.
She kept her arms wrapped around his shoulders and snuggled closer. “No, his question is fair. I appreciate the attempt to not upset me, but Colt risked his life for me. So did the woman with him. I’m not exactly holding back…but Colt knows the woman who rescued me and he’s in love with her. As in, completely and utterly in love with her. I don’t know her name, but since he works for the CIA, and based on some of their vague and frightening conversations—and her training—it’s clear she works for them, or did. She faked her death for some reason.” Mary Grace felt a little bad telling the others, but no one in this suite would tell anyone outside it. They’d all been friends forever and she wasn’t so sure that Colt didn’t need backup. No matter what he said. “I’m worried about them, even if they are trained. I feel like they’re walking into a lion’s den.”
Savage let out a colorful curse, making everyone look at him.
“What?” Brooks asked, the first thing he’d said in a while. Like usual, he had on a worn cowboy hat and boots and would fit in right where they were. You’d never know the guy was a freaking billionaire, thanks to his family legacy.
“I have an idea who the woman is,” Savage muttered. “It’s just a guess. About six months ago Colt went completely dark for about a month after his new partner died.”
Everyone nodded because Mary Grace remembered that as well. Not the partner dying part—she’d only been guessing about Colt’s career—but she remembered not being able to get ahold of him for weeks. But it had been before her big trip to Mexico and eventually he’d called her back so she’d let the radio silence go. Now she wished she’d pushed because he’d seemed a little off in the last couple months before she’d left. They’d only talked on the phone a few times since he was always gone, but he’d been different. Almost subdued.
Savage continued. “You don’t have the security clearance for this information, but screw it. I’m going to tell you who I think it might be. Does she have red hair and an olive complexion? She’s fluent in a few languages as well.”
Mary Grace nodded. “Yes, she stunning. And maybe a little crazy.”
Savage grinned at that. “Yeah, that sounds about right. Her name is Skye. And she is listed as dead. I always wondered about that because she seemed invincible.”
“You know her how?” Mercer asked.
“I was attached to a couple jobs she did overseas. Before she teamed up with Colt, I believe. The Agency hired me for some contract stuff. I heard some rumors they’d gotten together but he never said anything.”
Well that wasn’t vague or anything, but Mary Grace didn’t push. Now wasn’t the time. “Well obviously she’s in trouble if she faked her own death. And the woman risked her neck for me simply because Colt knew and cared about me.”
“Do you know where he’s going exactly?” Mercer asked, looking at Brooks.
“No, and he’s gone dark again. Once he knew MG was here with us, he said he’d contact me ‘when MG is safe from the cartel,’ then hung up on me. I’ve tried calling him back and texting. No response. He might have ditched the phone.”
Savage cursed again, which was standard for the guy.
Sighing, Mary Grace looked up at her husband. She’d wanted to wait until they were alone but clearly that was never going to happen. And she wanted her friends to know too. Since there wasn’t much—anything—they could do for Colt or the woman whose name was apparently Skye, it was time to tell Mercer about the baby. “I’ve got something else to tell you.”
Mercer tensed, watching her with midnight eyes she’d been looking into with love and lust since she was fifteen.
“You’re going to be a father. I’m about three months along.”
His mouth opened once, then shut. At her news, Savage and Brooks murmured under their breaths about checking on something in the next room. Then she and Mercer were alone, though she could hear the two uncles-to-be in the kitchenette, likely eavesdropping.
Mercer shifted slightly and moved his big, callused hands to her covered belly as joy infused his expression. “I thought I felt a little bump, but I thought…” Awe tinged his voice.
She giggled. “You thought I’d gained weight.”
“I don’t care if you gain fifty pounds,” he murmured, oh so gently brushing his lips over hers as if he was afraid to hurt her. “What do you need? Are you okay? Should you be sitting in a certain position? I know you’re a doctor, but should I call someone? What—”
“Mercer!” She took his face in her hands, stroked her thumbs over the dark brown skin of his cheeks—which apparently Brooks had made him shave before coming to the airport.
They’d been trying for a year to get pregnant before her trip with no luck so this was more than welcome news. But she had a feeling he was going to be a tad overprotective from this point forward.
“I’m okay. I’ll need to get on prenatal vitamins but I’ve been eating healthy and I wasn’t hurt by anyone there.” She’d been stressed out too, and okay, she was nervous and would be until she had an ultrasound and met with her doctor, but she wasn’t going to tell him that. Right now she just wanted to keep the joy on her husband’s face.
“I love you so much, Mary Grace. When I thought you were gone, I thought…our dreams of a family were gone forever.” His voice cracked as he pulled her into the gentlest hug ever, his big body vibrating with emotions.
Laying her head on his shoulder, she hugged him right back, safe and secure in the arms of the most noble, honest man she’d ever known. And she thanked God that they’d been given this second chance.
Now they just needed to get their friend—and his mystery woman—back to safety.
* * *
Colt watched as Skye stepped out of the condo’s bathroom into the small master bedroom. Instead of going the wig route, she’d died her hair brunette with a temporary color, added clip-in bangs of the same color and pulled her hair back into a twist at the back of her neck. Instead of pale blue eyes, she looked at him with chocolate brown ones courtesy of contacts.
With the changes and her skin color, she’d blend in much better now. She’d also added something to the top of her ears to subtly alter the shape for any potential facial recognition software. While the software helped intelligence agencies, it wasn’t difficult to fool it if you knew what you were doing. The hair and eyes weren’t for the software, but the ear change was and…her cheeks were slightly different too. She must have rolled-up gauze in them. Or something.
“I’m almost done,” she said, reaching into her backpack and pulling out a fake pair of glasses. Something that would also interfere with any software.
If for some reason someone who knew her spotted her on the street, it was possible they’d recognize her, but the software wouldn’t ping her and associate her face with her name. Which was the whole point.
He took a step toward her, needing to have an actual conversation with her this morning. They’d had a lot of sex last night—and some early this morning. But she’d started pulling away from him again. And not in the typical “get ready for a mission” type of focus. She was shutting him out. Unacceptable. “After this job—”
“Colt, I can’t.”
“Can’t what?”
“Can’t get my life back, can’t…” Clearing her throat, she zipped up the weathered backpack and slipped it on. Her sniper rifle was inside it—disassembled.
“Whatever you’re running from, let me help you.” He planned to regardless, but he didn’t want to have to fight her over it.
“Let’s just make sure Mary Grace is safe. One step at a time.”
He knew she was deflecting, trying to blow him off. After the night they’d shared he’d thought she’d be ready to open up to him, but he should have known better. When Skye made up her mind about something, she turned being stubborn into an art form. “Fine. You ready?”
Faint surprise lit her now dark eyes, likely because he wasn’t arguing with her. She picked up a brown newsboy cap and put it on. “Let’s do this.”
According to the agent running the division that focused on the Coahuila region, David Ramirez was meeting with one of his government contacts in an hour. Which would give Colt and Skye enough time to set up an impromptu meeting with him.
They’d have no backup if things went south, but it was a risk he was willing to take. He hated that Skye was taking any risk, but this was the life she’d chosen and he loved her strength, her sense of duty. She had no reason to be here with him, but she had insisted. That was just who she was.
He’d already scanned the feeds of the covert cameras he’d set up outside the condo and there hadn’t been any unusual activity. Once outside in the fresh, dry air, he and Skye both scanned the street. The weather was temperate, in the low seventies with no humidity so more people would be out today.
She gave him a quick nod and though he wanted to reach out and kiss her, show any sort of affection, he simply nodded back and headed west while she headed east. Even if he hated leaving her, hated having her out of his sight because not so deep down he was terrified he’d never see her again, they had to do this. He knew she’d have his back; that wasn’t the problem. It was what would happen after they’d ensured that Mary Grace was safe.
He was terrified that Skye planned to walk away from him again. Now that he knew she was alive, he’d never stop hunting until he found her. But holy hell, he didn’t want to go through that.
He’d be confronting David Ramirez directly in the Plaza de Armas by the fountain with the bronze nymphs. At least that was the plan.
The walk was quick and uneventful. People were on their way to work, others on their way to one of the universities and yet others just out to enjoy the day. There was a reason Saltillo was referred to as La Ciudad del Clima Ideal—the city of perfect climate. Once he reached the colonial city center, built in the unique pink marble it was known for, he took his time, scanning the people even though he wasn’t expecting a threat. Not yet, and not at all if he did this right.
Keeping his gait even as he strolled along, he stopped at a local shop to buy a café de olla before making his way to one of the wrought iron benches facing the bronze and stone fountain in the middle of the public square. Smiling politely at a college-aged woman who gave him a long, lingering look as she walked by, he pulled out one of his burner phones and texted his CIA contact. Almost immediately he received a response letting him know that Ramirez had left his meeting and was on foot. Next Colt dialed the only number saved inside this phone.
David Ramirez’s annoyed voice came through the line after three rings. “¿Quién es este?”
This was one of Ramirez’s private numbers, not easily accessible to anyone other than his family. Instead of speaking in Spanish, Colt opted for English, not bothering to disguise his voice. He was going to be mostly honest about who he was. “Mr. Ramirez, I’d like to talk to you about what happened two days ago at your family compound.”
There was a short pause, then, “Who the fuck is this?” he asked in perfect English, almost no hint of an accent.
“My name isn’t important, but I have something you want. I work for the CIA.” There had been a few times in his career he’d been honest about who he worked for because it served his purpose. Now was one of them. “We have a mutual interest in that we’d like you to stay in power. Your brother will make a move to take over soon. He also killed your father, not that doctor.” Colt let the words sink in.
“You don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Yes, I do. And you know there’s truth in my words or you wouldn’t still be on the line. I’m sitting in the middle of the Plaza de Armas. I’m alone but not without backup. Bring your men or don’t. But if you want the proof that your brother killed your father, among other things I believe you’ll find very interesting, meet me here in ten minutes. I’m sitting on a bench in the center.”
“I’m too far away—”
“I see our relationship is already off to a bad start, since you’re lying to me. You’re five minutes away since you just left your meeting with that weak government official, Garcia. Be here in ten. I’m giving you five to make a decision. If you attempt to kill me, the same woman who destroyed half your compound will finish the job—and you.” Colt ended the call, not bothering to tell him what he looked like. Ramirez would figure it out. Next he slid a Bluetooth in his ear and called Skye on one of her burners.
She answered immediately. “I’ve got you in my line of sight. You think he’ll show?”
He loved knowing she was watching over him through her scope right now. “He’ll either show or have me followed and try to kidnap me once I’m somewhere alone—or kill me.” That was the thing about being a spy. Sometimes you had to take balls-to-the-wall risks. Right now he could only hope that Ramirez didn’t try to off him before they spoke. That was on the outside realm of possibilities, but Colt liked to be prepared for any scenario. It was why he was armed and had Skye as his backup. Not the best scenario—definitely not as good as having a full tactical team as backup—but if Ramirez or his men made a move she’d start taking his guys out. And she was damn fast; could eliminate at least three guards in seconds. It would give Colt a chance to take cover, then return fire.
“He might try. I’ll take him out.” There was an edge to her voice that was so familiar it made him ache inside.
He’d missed her, missed working with her, missed the light she brought to his life. It didn’t matter that he knew she was alive—a part of him hadn’t come to terms with her being in his life again. His brain hadn’t caught up to the new reality and that wasn’t like him. He adjusted, adapted. Always had. Colt shook it off though. He was about to go toe to toe with a ruthless man. He needed his head fully in this, no outside distractions.
As a woman approached, a little dog on a leash in front of her, she made a move as if to sit next to him.
“Asiento tomado,” he said abruptly. He kept his expression hostile, which made her hurry away—but not before giving him an obscene hand gesture. He nearly laughed. Good for her.
“Aw, you hurt her feelings,” Skye said into his earpiece. “Look alive, Ramirez is entering from the west. Two guys with him that I can see. They’re fanning out on either side as he heads to the center.”
“You have titanium balls, Mr. CIA,” Ramirez said, sitting on the bench next to him, his moves economic and elegant. Wearing a three-piece Brioni suit in a dark shade of blue—no doubt custom fit—he gave a pleasant smile. Nothing about him seemed agitated. His toothpaste-commercial smile was easy, his dark hair short, with every strand in place. His father had spent his money well, teaching David to appear polished and civilized. Too bad under all that sleek veneer was just another greedy criminal who made his money on the pain of others. But he was the lesser of two evils and in Colt’s world, shades of gray ruled. Nothing was ever simple.
Colt lifted a shoulder. “What I have is information you need. I have multiple recordings of your brother and his associates planning to kill you and take over. He thinks you’re weak.” Colt glanced around, spotted one of Ramirez’s men watching from two benches down, hand resting on his hip and the holster there. Not even trying to be subtle.
“How do I know what you have is legitimate?”
Colt slid a hand into his pocket and paused when Ramirez made a move as if to go for a weapon. “I’m pulling out a flash drive.”
He nodded once, then made a slight hand motion to his guys to stay put.
“You can easily have this tested for authenticity, but I don’t think you need to. You know the truth about Rafael.” Colt didn’t say out loud that his brother was a psycho because it was one thing for everyone to know it, but it was another to insult the man’s family to his face. “He had some interesting things to say about your wife as well on there.”
After a short pause, Ramirez took what Colt held out. “So say this proves my brother is trying to stage a coup. This has nothing to do with the doctor. She must pay for her crime.”
Colt looked off into the distance, watching as people went about their everyday lives. For the most part, in every city, in every country of the world, people were the same. The majority of them were just trying to get by, trying to live their lives in peace. They wouldn’t have any idea what was transpiring on this bench right in front of them. “I also have vials of your father’s blood that she took before the escape. Your father was poisoned, something you might already know if you’ve had it tested yourself. The doctor had no reason to kill him. In fact killing him would have been exponentially stupid, and she is a brilliant woman. You have to know that, unless you’re stupid—and we both know that you’re not.”
Ramirez gave him a long, hard look. “My father was very close to death. Killing him would not have made sense. But he died the same night the trained woman attacked my family’s compound.”
“The doctor didn’t kill your father. She took the Hippocratic Oath, which might mean nothing to some doctors. But she was under your roof for months. You really think she’s a killer?”
Ramirez didn’t respond. Which was a no.
“When someone came to rescue her, she took the chance. The timing just happened to be…strange. You could blame the murder and subsequent rescue on your brother. It wouldn’t be hard to believe that he orchestrated the rescue and the murder of your father in an attempt to set her up, knowing that he’d be able to go after her later and finish the job. If you kill him, no one would question your strength.” So if Ramirez was worried about saving face by letting the doctor go, this was the way to do it. Kill the guilty party. His own brother. No one would question that. “What do you say? Is the doctor free from you?”
