It was always about him.
Rick slowed down. Up ahead was an outcropping of rocks.
He parked in their shadow and climbed out. Jamie followed. She checked the sun, her watch, then pulled out her compass.
“Two miles that way,” she said, pointing northeast. “Try not to get lost this time.”
Rick grinned. “Are you ever going to let me forget that one?”
“Never.”
They walked together in silence. Thirty minutes later, they parted company. Jamie could see the compound in the distance. High fences should have shielded the inside from curious eyes, but most of them had recently been blown away. There were several buildings, trucks and dozens of armed men. Her heart started pounding in her chest. Dammit, they didn’t have a prayer of making this work.
Then she forced herself to slow her breathing. Gradually her muscles relaxed.
The terrorists had chosen this spot specifically. There weren’t a lot of trees or plants, so it was difficult to approach the compound without being seen. She found a shallow depression in the warm earth and again breathed a prayer of thanks that it wasn’t summer.
Her camouflage uniform was the color of sand and dirt. With her cap and smudged face, she would be difficult to spot unless she did something stupid. She slid off her backpack, then reached for a bottle of water. After taking a sip, she settled down to wait. An hour and fifteen minutes until Rick blew the depot. If he blew it.
“Don’t think like that,” she told herself. “Everything is going to be fine.”
She grabbed her binoculars and rolled onto her belly. She could just make out the details of the buildings. She focused on the section to the left. A low, one-story structure with small windows. According to their intelligence information, Zach was in there. Possibly chained. She had small but strong cutters in her backpack. If he was there, she was going to get him out.
“Just an hour and twelve minutes now, Zach,” she said softly, scanning the area around her. No one had seen them arrive. All they needed was a little luck. “Hang on. Just hang on.”
She lowered the binoculars and took another sip of water. Her shoulder began to ache. She shifted, remembering the first time she’d lain flat on her belly to scan the enemy’s position. It hadn’t been the desert then. Seven years ago, she’d gone to the Central American jungle. She’d been as green and soft as a ripe avocado, and just as effective. She would have died in that jungle if it hadn’t been for Zach Jones.
That’s why she was here today. To pay that debt. And maybe, just maybe, to get a few questions answered.
Chapter 2
Seven years ago
Jamie sucked in a breath. She could feel the snake crawling over the backs of her thighs. Zach had already glanced at it and dismissed it as harmless. Her entire life experience with crawly things had been seeing one dead rattler at the end of the block the summer she’d been ten. Even then, the sight of the squashed, dead reptile had been enough to make her shudder. Being this close to a live snake made her stomach churn.
I’m not going to throw up, she told herself firmly, ignoring the clamminess of her skin. The prickly feeling of heat and dampness had nothing to do with her nerves and everything to do with the temperature and humidity of the jungle. She’d spent the first twenty-one years of her life in Arizona. This was like visiting another planet.
Slowly, trying to move without making a sound, she raised the binoculars to her eyes and peered into the darkness. It wasn’t night, but the thick, lush foliage and tall trees didn’t let in a lot of sunlight. She studied the path twenty feet in front of them, and the clumps of greenery. She lowered the binoculars and shook her head.
Zach stared at her. His dark brown eyes bored into hers, until she felt as if he were digging down to her soul. A muscle in his cheek twitched.
Look again, idiot.
He didn’t say the words. He didn’t have to. She could clearly read his irritation.
Once again she raised the binoculars and stared at the trees, then the plants, then the path. There wasn’t anyone there.
She wanted to elbow Zach Jones right below his rib cage. She knew where and how to do it, too. High and hard, so all of his air rushed out and his diaphragm convulsed a couple of times before relaxing enough to let him suck in a breath.
Her track coach had shown her how, her sophomore year in high school. She’d run cross-country with the boys’ team because there hadn’t been enough interested females to form a girls’ team. Those long bus rides would have been impossible if she hadn’t known how to take care of herself. She’d learned quickly. It wasn’t difficult. She was a jock by nature, preferring a pickup basketball game to shopping or attending dance class.
But she knew if she tried to elbow Zach, he would get her in a headlock that would cut off her air so fast, she would see stars. Besides, as annoying and hurtful as she found him, he wasn’t the enemy. He was in charge of the mission.
When she’d scanned everything a third time, she lowered her binoculars and shook her head again. Zach’s mouth twisted with impatience. He clamped his hand on the top of her head and turned her until she was staring to the far left. He pointed to a tree that had broken in half. The charred trunk looked as if it had been struck by lightning. Or a bomb.
He gave her a quick, painful squeeze as if to say, There, you dumb recruit.
She stared hard, then bit back a gasp. Leaning against the trunk of the tree, nearly hidden by the shadows, was a man. Zach had found him without the benefit of binoculars. Geez, he was better than everyone had said, and the rumors made him a living legend. She wanted to scream with frustration. Just once she would like to impress Zach and have the last word.
Zach motioned for her to slide back. She worked her knees and forearms, crawling along the ground, trying not to think about creepy or slithery things. Thick air swirled around her, making her sweat. A drop fell into her eyes, and she blinked away the accompanying burn.
They slipped silently through the jungle. When they were about two hundred feet from the man, Zach stood up. Before Jamie could scramble into a standing position, he grabbed her by the backpack and pulled her upright.
“I don’t need your help,” she said as she staggered a step or two to find her balance, then dropped the binoculars around her neck.
“Yeah, right.”
He dismissed her as easily as he’d dismissed the snake. It had been like that from the beginning. Zach Jones had told her the first day of training that he believed women were smarter than men, that they thought faster on their feet and they followed orders better. But that didn’t mean they made good field agents. Women didn’t have the gut instinct to kill. It had to be taught. And more times than not, they hesitated before ending a life. That hesitation was expensive, for them and for the team. If anyone hesitated, everyone might die.
She’d stood before him then, arms stiff at her side, her chin raised. “I won’t hesitate, sir,” she’d said firmly.
“You won’t be here long enough for it to be an issue.”
But
