Chapter Ten

She hadn’t eaten much of her lunch, and although her appetite lagged her stomach was grumbling. Tossing her purse on the table and kicking off her shoes, Faith ordered a light supper from room service. Then she headed for the shower, pulling her clothes off as she went.

She had just reached to turn on the water when the pain hit her, doubling her over. Just like the other day, searing and sharp, like a thousand fire ants burrowing into her skin. She gasped, trying to suck air into her lungs and ride it out. Consumed by it, she sank to the tiled floor, leaning against the tub.

Help me.

Mark! I’m here.

Don’t . . . name . . .

What? She could barely focus her mind over the torturous pain.

Name . . . who you are . . .

Sweat covered her body as she tried for deep breaths, willing the pain to subside. Whatever hell Mark was in must be worse than anything she could imagine. She gritted her teeth, and at last the intense agony eased, allowing her to concentrate on the messages.

Names. What did he mean? Whose name? Hers?

Of course. She couldn’t believe she was so dense. Whoever the telepath was in the group, he was trying to intercept their messages and discover her identity.

I get it.

A long silence. Then, Good.

She was awed at the inner strength he had that allowed him to hang on through whatever torture he was being subjected to. God, she had to move faster. But how?

Hang on, Mark. I promise I’ll get you out of there.

And then, just like before, the presence of a dark evil rolled over her, almost choking her. She closed her eyes and huddled against the tub until at last the feeling dissipated. Then she hauled herself into the shower and stood under the water for a long time. By the time she’d dried off, pulled on her robe, and admitted the room-service waiter she was feeling halfway to normal again.

Except, of course, for the sickening feeling of dread lodged in her stomach. Before she sat down to eat, she pulled out her cell phone and punched in the number for Phoenix again.

“I’m still trying to reach Eric Latrobe. Please call me at any time. It’s urgent.”

And tomorrow, with or without Trey Winslow, she’d make John Gregorio talk to her.

* * * * *

If I get out of here, I’m going to take each of these bastards and skin them alive.

Mark kept himself together by silently repeating this over and over. Nothing he’d been through in all his years in the army could even come close to this, and he’d been helpless at the hands of some real badass people during that time.

He was sure the multiple cuts on his body were infected. It was impossible for them not to be, as dirty as he was. It was a miracle the cut on his leg wasn’t worse than it was.

Tidbit!

He had to keep himself from thinking her name, but at least he could call up her face. And the memories of that unbelievable weekend. Why had he been such an egotistical ass, thinking his career came before anything else? Thinking he had all the time in the world to tell Faith how he felt about her? To think about a life together? If he got out of this hellhole in one piece, the first thing he planned to do was put a ring on her finger.

He closed his eyes, and at once her image came to him. The lushness of her naked body. The dusky nipples tipping the firm, round breasts. And the scent of her arousal. He was inside her, the walls of her cunt clutching at him, her liquid heat bathing his cock. As always he had to grit his teeth to keep from coming immediately.

He bent his head to take first one swollen nipple and then the other into his mouth, swirling his tongue around them, nipping lightly with his teeth. His balls tightened as desire slashed through him, hot and molten.

He lifted his head to trace the edges of her mouth with his tongue before taking her in a kiss that was hungry and devouring. God, she always tasted so good. Like fresh peaches or fine wine. Her scent and her taste were everywhere inside him. He—

“I cannot help but admire you, Capitan.” Escobedo pushed aside the flap and walked into the tent, and immediately the image dissipated. “I don’t know another man who could have held out as long as you have with our, shall we say, inventive treatment.”

Anger fueled him and gave a boost to his waning strength. “Go fuck yourself.”

Escobedo’s mouth turned up in an evil caricature of a smile. “Still full of spirit. I think we haven’t shown you the full extent of our hospitality yet.”

Mark said nothing, just waiting. The man wanted something. What now?

“Imagine our surprise to learn that one of your men actually eluded us.” He shook his head. “Unbelievable. I was sure we’d gotten every one of you. My men will pay for their failure.”

Joey. Still alive? And where?

“I see by the look in your eyes you know exactly who I mean.” He pulled out one of his ever-present cigarillos and lit it. “Apparently your extraction team found him when we could not and brought him home, alive but unconscious.”

Mark watched and waited again. Did Escobedo’s contacts in the States have Joey? Was that it?

“Ah, yes. You’re wondering if we’ve been able to retrieve him. Perhaps he might be more forthcoming about the sources of your information. Unfortunately, just as our people were about to move him to another facility, it seems he was snatched literally from under their noses.”

Phoenix. That’s who it had to be. Damn it, Mark, wipe that name from your brain.

But he hadn’t been quick enough. Escobedo’s eyes narrowed.

“I see in your eyes you know who took him. People who move like ghosts with honed precision. Well, then. We’ll have to have a little discussion about who they can be. We’ll have our little conversation shortly. My . . . guest . . . would like to observe, and he’s occupied at the moment. Enjoy the respite, Capitan. It won’t last long.”

As he walked past Mark he leaned down and pressed the lighted end of the cigar against Mark’s tortured chest. It was all Mark could do to swallow the scream.

* * * * *

“Aunt Vivi, I’m losing him.”

Faith sat at the little table, finishing her coffee. She’d had a restless night, her dreams filled with images of Mark, flashes from their unforgettable weekend interrupted by scenes of him bloody and beaten. Twice she woke up covered with sweat and choking. When morning arrived she was more tired than when she’d gone to bed and increasingly depressed.

“Sweetheart.” Vivi’s voice across the distance was calming and comforting. “You have to try to separate your empathetic reactions from the telepathic messages. The pain is acting as a roadblock.”

“But—”

“I know that’s easier said than done. Especially because you are so receptive. But if you want to keep the thought connection viable and fight the one who’s trying to interfere, you have to call on that strength I know you have.”

“You’re right. It’s just so hard.”

“Of course it is, my darling. Here’s what you do: When he contacts you, close your eyes and visualize a narrow stream running between high banks. Focus on keeping the water inside those barriers. And I’ll call Sarah and Emily and tell them we need to form a circle of energy. Reach out to us, Faith. Receive our strength.”

“I’ll try, Aunt Vivi. I’ll do exactly what you say.”

“When will you be home?”

“Maybe tonight. Tomorrow for sure.”

“Call me as soon as you get in, and I’ll come over.”

Faith let out a sigh of relief. “Thank you so much. For everything.”

Her next call was to Tess.

“What time does your plane get in today?” her assistant demanded.

“I don’t know yet. I may have to change my plans a little. Why?”

“Listen, Faith.” Tess’s voice dropped. “I don’t know what you’re looking for, but I’ve dug up a bunch of stuff you need to see.”

Faith’s heartbeat speeded up. “Can you give me some idea of what you’ve got?”

“I’d rather wait until you’re here. I tried—”

“Hold on a sec. My call waiting just beeped.” Faith pressed the Talk button to connect to the incoming call.

“Okay, Faith.” Trey Winslow was his unctuous self. “You’ve got your appointment with Major Gregorio. Tomorrow.” He gave her the time. “Can you get there by then?”

A tiny shiver of excitement rippled through her. “He agreed to meet with me?”

“Not very happily. I had to go over his head to get it done. But I don’t think you’ll get much out of him.”

That’s what you think.

“I’ll be grateful for anything he gives me. Thank you so much. I really appreciate it.”

“Let me know how it goes. And of course, I want one of the first copies of the book.” The artificial laugh drifted over the airwaves.

“Of course. I’ll deliver it myself.” She disconnected and was back with Tess. “Listen, I have to find a flight to North Carolina.”

“What? Faith, I—”

“I promise to call you later. And to get home as quick as I can. Gotta run.”

Dodging Tess would take some broken-field running. Was it time to let her in on things? No. Tess had no idea of Faith’s psychic abilities. Faith didn’t know how open the woman was to them and whether the revelation would damage her credibility. No time to think about that now. She could worry about it when she was finally headed home.

She managed to snag a seat on a flight to Raleigh-Durham leaving in two hours. Once she got to the airport she cold do a search for a place to stay near Fort Bragg. Hustling, she packed her few things, checked out, and was in a cab headed to the airport in thirty minutes, planning a full-frontal assault on Major John Gregorio.

* * * * *

The cabin had two bedrooms. They set Joey up in the larger one. They’d take turns in the other one, since only one or two of them at a time would be sleeping. Rick helped Troy get his brother settled, then pulled up a chair next to the bed and dropped into it.

“He’s still knocked out from the shot I gave him,” Troy pointed out.

“I don’t care. I’ll just be here when he wakes up again.” His jaw was set in a stubborn line.

Troy was in and out throughout the night, checking on Joey’s vitals, careful not to disturb Rick, who dozed restlessly in the chair. When he saw the sleep the younger man had fallen into was a natural one and his vitals were stable, Troy disconnected all the monitors, leaving only the IV that pumped vital antibiotics and narcotics into his system.

He examined the incisions where the doctors had removed the bullets from his leg and shoulder. Neither wound had done serious damage, fortunately. The coma had been due mostly to shock and loss of blood and the trauma of the surgery. Troy made sure to give him plenty of pain meds, then assured Rick they’d see steady improvement.

Rick grunted. “Getting him out of that hospital ought to help.”

In the morning Troy brought him a steaming mug of coffee. “He’s slept off the shot I gave him, and his breathing’s a lot more normal than when we fetched him. I think he’ll wake up soon.”

Rick raked his fingers through his hair. “God, I hope so.”

“Something else for you to think about.” Dan came into the room carrying a satellite phone. “I checked in to make sure our paying clients were being taken care of.”

“And?” Rick raised his eyebrow. “We pick our staff carefully. I can’t believe anything’s falling through the cracks.”

“That’s not it. All that’s going well. It’s that woman.”

Rick raised an eyebrow. “Woman?”

“Faith Wilding. She’s left three more messages for you.” One corner of his mouth lifted in a grin. “Are you sure this isn’t one of the many women you’ve blazed your path of destruction through?”

“Damn it. No. You think I’m such a shithead I wouldn’t remember?” He made a sound of disgust. “Anyway, no one I ever slept with would call me Eric. I can’t think of a single person who uses that name any more.”

“Well, she’s damned anxious to talk to you.” Troy held out the sat phone. “Find out what she wants.”

“Not until Joey’s awake and I can get a handle on things. Right now that’s all that’s important.”

At that moment his brother groaned, a raw sound that made the hair on Rick’s neck stand up. He leaned over the bed.

“Joey? It’s me, kid.”

Joey’s hand flailed, and Troy locked his fingers around the younger man’s wrists to keep him from knocking himself loose from the equipment.

“Give him a second,” he told the others. “He’s coming around but he’s fighting it.”

Troy was right. In a moment Joey settled back and his eyelids opened slowly. When he caught sight of Rick bending over him a look of shock spread over his face.

“Rick?” His voice sounded as if it was scraped from the bottom of a barrel. “God. That really you?”

“It’s me, kid.”

Joey struggled to sit up, and they had to restrain him again.

“Take it easy,” Rick told him. “Wherever you were, you’re safe now.”

The younger man’s head fell back on the pillow, pain slashing across his face. His breath rasped from his lungs. “Safe. A joke.”

“Joey?” Dan moved to the bedside. “Are you up to talking at all?”

“What he needs is rest,” Rick told them.

“No.” The word rasped from his throat. “Have to tell you. Need . . . to talk.”

Troy filled a glass with water, stuck a straw in it, and helped Joey to sit up so he could take a few sips. “Just go easy, okay?”

“Rick,” he began again. “Please. Listen.”

Rick looked up at Troy, who nodded his head.

“Okay, kid. Let’s have it.”

“They’re all . . . Oh, God.” Tears filled his eyes. “They’re all dead. Everyone except Mark.”

The men looked at each other. Finally Dan asked, “The whole unit?”

Joey nodded. “They were . . . waiting for us. Someone told them we were coming.”

The tangos had been ready for them, guns chattering even before the unit was fully in place. All hit. Except for Joey, who was already settled high in a tree.

The young man’s eyes were haunted as he told about the dead men dragged to the campsite in the bowels of the Peruvian jungle and burned. And Mark, beaten and bleeding, dragged away.

“Shit.” Rick ground out the word. “Fuck all anyway.”

“Are you sure Halloran’s still alive?” Dan asked.

“Yes.” Joey’s breathing was labored, but he was obviously determined to get his story out. “They wanted to find out who told us about this meeting and where it would be. He’ll . . . hold out . . . but . . .”

“According to your CO, you were almost dead when the team found you,” Rick told him. “I’ll be lighting candles over this for a long time.”

Joey drew in a painful breath, forcing himself to speak again. “Do you know . . . Is anyone getting the captain out?”

The men all looked at each other. “We didn’t even know he was still alive until just now. And the government isn’t real good about sharing information.”

“If we get a map can you show us where you were?” Dan asked.

“Yeah. Only . . . I know they moved Mark.” He nodded toward the water again, and Troy lifted the straw to his lips. “The place where they met wasn’t their permanent camp.”

“That’s enough for now.” Troy gave Joey another sip of water, then waved everyone out of the room. “You, too, Rick. This little bit has drained him.”

They could see that, despite his fierce need to tell them everything, Joey’s strength had waned. The meds kicked in, and his eyes slammed shut. Troy eased him back down to the pillow.

“Let’s talk.” Dan led them out of the room, and they settled around the table. He took the lead, a grim look on his face. “We’ve got to get details,” he said, giving voice to what was in everyone’s mind.

“When Joey wakes up again I’ll get some nourishment into him,” Troy told them. “Then we’ll let Rick handle the rest of the questions. Everyone okay with that?”

They all nodded.

“Let’s figure out what we need to do and divvy it up.” Dan reached behind him to the counter and snagged a pad of paper. “Rick and I will work with Joey on the map of Peru. We’ll have to try to figure out where the tangos moved Mark to. Where their permanent base might be. That will be the hardest.”

“It won’t be that far from the meet,” Mike pointed out. “They were walking, remember?”

Dan shook his head. “We don’t know that. They could have had their vehicles concealed.”

“And we need to keep in mind,” Mike pointed out, “that by now Mark could really be dead.”

Heavy silence dropped like a thick fog.

“Someone needs to talk to John Gregorio,” Dan said at last. ”Find out what the fuck is really happening.”

“I’ll do it.” Rick’s voice was harsh. “I served under him, and he’s the one who called me about Joey. He’ll open up to me. If he can.”

“Rick, you need to call that Wilding woman back, too,” Dan told him. “You can’t ignore her, just on the wild-ass chance she’s somehow connected to all this.”

Rick lifted an eyebrow. “How would that even be possible?”

“Don’t know. It’s just a strange coincidence that she pops up out of nowhere while this is all going on. Meanwhile I want to check the security setup again. Mike, take a walk outside and make sure everything smells all right.”

“Okay.”

Rick pulled the scrap of paper from his pocket where he’d written down the number and punched it in. He listened, frowned, and disconnected. “I got her voice mail. She said to leave a message.”

“Then do it,” Arsenault told him. “Get her to call again.”

Rick made the call and left the message before setting the phone back on the table. “I’m going to check on my brother again. If she calls back, come get me.”

* * * * *

At the moment, however, Faith was focused on other things. She’d rented a car at the airport, debated calling Major Gregorio to let him know she was on the way, then decided against it. Why give him a chance to shut her down? She found a hotel to stay at and did her best to get some sleep. Unfortunately her nerves were in high gear, plus she kept waiting for Mark to contact her again. She’d had two cups of tea, which unfortunately did not settle her nerves. Now she was at one of the gates, drumming her fingers on the steering wheel impatiently while the sentry called to verify her appointment.

Through the windshield she saw men and women in camouflage and others in uniform hurrying from place to place. Cars sped along the roadways, joined by occasional motorcycle. Overhead she heard the roar of engines as planes took off and landed. She knew Fort Bragg was a large, busy place—Mark’s Delta Force unit wasn’t the only one based here—but the sheer size of the place was overwhelming.

“All right, Miss Wilding.” The sentry handed her identification back to her. “You’re cleared to Major Gregorio’s office.” With concise words he gave her directions. “Oh, and thirty miles an hour, okay?”

“Thank you. I’ll try to keep my lead foot off the accelerator.” She stashed her ID, waited until he lifted the gate, and rolled slowly onto the base.

She considered herself lucky that she found a parking place right next to the building and a Ranger who looked too young to be in the army who could direct her to the office itself. Too young to go out and die, she thought. Then she realized he wasn’t much younger than Mark when he’d enlisted.

John Gregorio was polite but far from welcoming when she entered his office. He extended his hand, but she could tell it was ingrained courtesy and not from any real pleasure at seeing her. He was immaculate in his uniform, but his face was lined with worry and fatigue. His eyes were cold as they assessed her, and there wasn’t a hint of a smile on his face.

“Thank you for seeing me, Major.” She tried to make her voice as conciliatory as possible. “I know you’re a busy man.”

“When a member of the committee overseeing the armed services makes a request it isn’t good form to refuse it.” He gestured toward the wall behind her, and she was startled to see another man standing there.”

“I’m sorry.” She was confused. “If I’m interrupting something . . .”

“Colonel Frank Ryan.” The man held out his hand, but like Gregorio, there was no welcome in the gesture. “Major Gregorio reports to me.”

Faith’s pulse sped up, and she had a sinking feeling in her stomach. This wasn’t really going to be quite as easy as she’d hoped. Did they already know what she wanted? No. That was impossible. So. Something was up.

“Thanks to you, too,” she said, hoping her sudden attack of nerves didn’t show. “I know you must have better things to do than spend your time with me. Especially when I’m just looking for background information for a new book I’m writing.”

“Why don’t you have a seat, Miss Wilding.” Ryan moved forward and held out a chair for her.

Faith dropped into it and busied herself pulling out her notepad and pen. “I’ll try not to take too much of your time,” she began. “I believe Senator Winslow explained I’m working on my latest book and wanted information about Delta Force and Special Ops.” She tried out a smile. “I like to make sure what I write is as authentic as possible.”

“Let’s just cut to the chase,” Gregorio said, his eyes like ice. “We know who you are, and I’m not just referring to Faith Wilding the author. You’ve called a dozen times and left messages for me in the past two days. As soon as the senator called to wave his privilege in front of my nose I checked you out.”

Ryan pulled up another chair and sat next to you. “What we want to know is why at this particular moment you’re asking questions about Delta Force, the branch of the army that your friend Mark Halloran’s in. What’s your role in all of this?”

Faith just stared at him. Now what did she say?