Absolute Doubt (Fallen Agents of T-FLAC Book 1) Read online

  Despite having heart palpitations the entire time, she and Juanita managed to leave the hacienda through the servant’s passageway, silently slipping into the rectory next door.

  They heard the music before they rounded the church at the front door of the rectory. Procol Harum belted out A Whiter Shade of Pale. The song, out of context for the grimness of the day, startled River, reminding her poignantly of her mother. She saw herself standing on a little stool behind the counter at the convenience store so she could carefully watch her mom ring up purchases at the cash register. Then, after painstakingly taking out the customer’s change and being allowed to hand it over, her mother's pride as she hugged her for being such a clever girl to count out the change so well.

  Oliver hated the shop, refusing to waste his time there, but River had loved it. To River, the more time spent with her parents, the better. Now she was so grateful that she'd had those years with them before they died.

  Not much of a religious person, she nevertheless whispered a silent prayer to her mother as she guided Juanita to the rectory door. Hey Mom, Oliver needs you today. Well, truth be told, we both need you today. Do your Mom thing and send some guidance this way.

  "River. Nita." Dressed in jeans and a black shirt, with no clerical collar in sight, Father Marcus opened the door wide, and gave them a welcoming, but slightly puzzled, smile.

  "Come in." He had to raise his voice over the music. "I was just about to have a little lunch. Join me."

  He led the way to the back of the house. "Would you?" He indicated the radio, and River turned down the volume as he casually pulled the curtain with strawberries on it over the lower half of the window so no one could see inside. Then he took out two more plates.

  "Raizia Sosa makes the best lasagna," he told them cheerfully. His cheer seemed a little strained, but River gave him points for not telegraphing the end of the world. "I was just about to defrost this but worried I’d end up wasting most of it."

  Since he was pulling the casserole dish out of the small freezer as he spoke, River doubted that's what he'd planned for lunch. He stuck the dish into the microwave and hit a few buttons.

  As he turned to address Juanita, River noticed the small communications device in his ear. So, like Ash, he was in communication with the others. Good news! Did that mean Ash and his team could now communicate? River's heart leapt. Was the pass already clear? Could they leave now? If so, it would be the best news she'd heard all day.

  Catching Father Marcus's eye, she indicated her ear, and raised an inquiring brow. He shook his head. Damn it. No open communication after all.

  "Nita," he said evenly in Spanish. "Would you fix us a nice green salad, my dear? Here. Use this, and this, and this." He efficiently handed the girl a large bowl, then took lettuce from the refrigerator, and tomatoes off the windowsill. He set her up at the counter near the sink.

  After taking down three glasses, and removing a jug of lemonade from the fridge, he sat opposite River, and gave her a questioning look before pouring their drinks.

  As calm and as easy as he appeared, River could feel the tension pulsing off him in waves. He was worried for his people, for the lives he felt responsible for. Now she was delivering another soul into his care.

  "Juanita has decided she doesn't want to work at the hacienda any more. I suggested you could get her safely out of town and that she could rest here until you can. The suitcase is hers, and I've given her a little spending money until she's settled."

  "No, no. You've done enough, Miss River."

  "Accept a little help from a friend," River told her firmly. "Father, if you could let me know how she’s doing, I'd appreciate it. I don't want to lose touch."

  He nodded.

  When Juanita turned to the kitchen sink to rinse the lettuce, River whispered, “By rest, I mean hide. You’re aware that Franco is a monster?”

  Anger pinked his cheeks, and made his eyes glitter. His mouth tightened. "This only came to light recently, but yes. I am now painfully aware."

  “She mustn't be exposed to him again. Her mother needs to join her, because I’m worried Xavier will use her mother to get to her. Juanita says he wants the baby.”

  "Her mother waits for her in Abad; she left last night. I have a message for her from her mama."

  After exchanging the information, it was amazing how effectively she and Marcus could communicate nonverbally in between their verbal conversation. He would get Juanita away with the others. In the meantime, she could stay in the rectory. He’d make sure River knew where to send money if necessary.

  "I'm hoping to leave for Santa de Porres later today," he told Juanita as she brought the salad to the table, and sat down. "There's a bit of a problem right now getting through the pass, but I hope it'll be cleared before dark."

  "Me, too," River muttered, helping herself to lasagna that was still more than half frozen in the middle. If the road was still impassable, did Ash's plan to blow up the mine tonight still hold? Surely, he could wait another day?

  Juanita lay her fork down and yawned.

  River shot her a smile. "I think Little Mama here needs a nap. Is there somewhere?"

  As Juanita got up from her chair, her legs wobbled. Father Marcus rose to his feet and put his arm around the girl. "I have a very comfortable sofa in my office. Come along, my dear."

  Juanita didn't protest much as she was ushered away. While they were gone, River put away the leftovers and started washing the dishes.

  "Do you think they'll be able to clear the pass?" she asked when Marcus returned. Then she stopped and pointed to her ear, giving him an inquiring look. “You sure Franco can’t hear?” she mouthed.

  "Don't worry." Marcus shook his head. "I sweep for bugs every day. There are no listening devices here. But I can't say the same for the main house."

  "Franco bugs his own house?"

  "T-FLAC has the house under surveillance. Daklin ordered your room to be clean. You can speak freely there."

  "Okay, that's creepy. Are you sure I wasn't seen or heard in that room?"

  "They removed surveillance the night of your arrival."

  "Whew. Good to know. Okay, where were we?"

  Father Marcus smiled. "They're bringing in large earth moving equipment all the way from Santa de Porres. However, it won't get here until tomorrow. Early, yes, but still tomorrow."

  "But Ash said he is exploding the mine tonight. Can his plans be postponed?"

  "No, my dear, unfortunately, it cannot. I'm not at liberty to divulge the reasons, but trust me when I say, this operation is time sensitive, and of utmost importance. Imperative even."

  "But the rest of the villagers..."

  "Daklin is the best explosives engineer there is. Under normal circumstances, he'd engineer the detonation to the last rock that would fall. He's that good at what he does. He has the hands of a surgeon when it comes to explosives."

  When it came to a woman's body, too. "Then why take such drastic precautions to evacuate the town?"

  "Because in this instance, he can't control the blast. The mountain is riddled with veins of E-1x. It’s impossible to know where each vein is, or how much explosive is hidden deep inside the rock, unseen. There's absolutely no way to anticipate how big or far reaching the explosion, or the chain reaction from one will be. As you saw with this morning's event.”

  After drinking deeply, he set his glass down with care, his eyes somber. "I'm hazarding a guess that this morning's explosion was accidental. Assuredly, people lost their lives because they weren't careful enough when removing the substance from the rock. E-1x is volatile and extremely powerful, and so far, it is impossible to defuse once ignited." He drank the rest of his lemonade. "So it's very possible, no, probable, that the annihilation will extend not only to this valley, but to surrounding areas for hundreds of miles."

  And Daklin would be at the epicenter of it all. With an injured leg. Unable to run far enough or fast enough to get away. River went ice cold from head to toe
. She drew in a deep breath. "I can’t just sit around and wait. Put me to work, Father."

  Fourteen

  The ghost of her scent was everywhere.

  But she was gone.

  Suitcase, clothes, River herself.

  Fuck, fuck, and triple fuck.

  Because he didn't want to raise suspicion, Daklin had suffered through the rest of the morning with Xavier, when all he'd wanted to do was spend his last day with River. The thought of her, the scent of her, consumed him, and engaging in idle chitchat with the man he was going to destroy in a few hours, wasn't nearly enough distraction. He'd finally made his excuses under the guise of writing his reports on Xavier's apparition for Rome.

  Only to find her room empty.

  It was God's last laugh. Just when he resigned himself to his fate and ready to die, he met a woman like River Sullivan who made him want to live again. In his head, a timer counted down the minutes. He didn't want to waste a second that could be spent with her.

  His men knew their roles. There was no more planning necessary. Now it was a waiting game. He'd played it on ops dozens of times. It had never bothered him before. Today it fuckingwell did.

  Charlie Kytta, leader of Delta Team, and his men worked diligently to clear the slide, and get the rest of the villagers—-and River—-a safe distance from the valley. Where the hell could she have gone? No one could leave via the pass. She wasn't equipped or experienced enough to take a long fucking walk through the jungle. Especially alone.

  He imagined her attempting to climb the rubble at the pass, because God only knew, she was stubborn enough, pissy enough, to give it a real shot. Slipping and sliding down the shale, plummeting to the valley floor a thousand feet onto jagged rocks below. To her death.

  He rubbed the center of his chest. No. She wasn't stupid. Stubborn. Determined. But not stupid.

  Had Father Marcus figured out a way to circumvent the slide and get everyone else clear of the valley?

  Daklin made a slow turn in her dim, empty bedroom, the very air redolent with the smell of summer rain and flowers that he'd always associate with her. Not that he had a long time for such an association. His ending was a mere hours away. Which made River’s absence in this last moment he might ever have to see her un-fucking-acceptable.

  She'd showered, and from the appearance of rumpled covers on the bed, taken a nap, and left.

  Scowling, he glared at the rumpled covers on the half-made bed. A nap wasn't who River Sullivan was. She was a woman of action. A planner. She was no coward.

  Therefore, the bed was unmade from when she'd left to go up to the mine early this morning.

  He checked the enormous teak wardrobe, opening the double doors to see what, if anything, she'd left behind. Daklin frowned. The only thing inside was a long, sheer garment hanging from a padded pink silk hanger.

  Frowning, he rubbed the thin material between his fingers. The garment held a musty, faded scent. He held out the garment—a full-length, shift style dress of sheer fabric. Hell, he could clearly see his hand through two layers of material. The thought of seeing River in what looked to be a transparent peignoir set his pulses racing, and made him semi-hard. She'd brought it all the way to Los Santos with her for some bizarre reason. But if it was important enough to bring, why leave it behind?

  Daklin closed the heavy, carved doors, and stalked into the bathroom. The steam had long since dissipated, but the scent of her, the femaleness of her, lingered in the air. He picked up her hairbrush, tapped it on his palm as he scanned the feminine articles neatly lined up on a clean, folded towel on the counter. Makeup. Hair crap. A cold flat iron.

  A large tote bag sitting on the edge of the sunken tub.

  Air rushed out of his lungs.

  She wasn’t gone.

  Unless she'd walked away, leaving all this behind.

  Or? This time his heart galloped. Had she been taken? Had someone walked in and whisked her away? The same someone who'd possibly taken her brother?

  Daklin had just left Xavier downstairs. If not Xavier, who could have taken her? And why? Was he just being alarmist because of who he was, and had the knowledge of just how bad people could be? How despicable men like Xavier tended to be?

  Yeah. Maybe.

  Or maybe not.

  He'd find her and find the fuck out.

  When his comm buzzed in his ear, he drew up short. Damn thing had been silent too long. "Alpha One," he snapped, returning to the bedroom. "Speak fast."

  "No shit." Kytta, leader of Delta team, knew as well as Daklin the vagaries of communications in the valley. "Just got word: Eyes on our package. Secured in container and en route. It cleared Panama Canal, and is now mid-Atlantic. Congested shipping lanes. Will advise when contents neutralized."

  "Copy." That was news to Daklin. If Delta team had received word, the comms were better on the other side of the mountain. The line went dead, and then crackled hopefully. Whether he received word directly, or not, this was excellent news. They found the truck they'd been looking. Transported in plain sight, the Nuts of E-1x, concealed in a giant container, on a ship filled with similar containers, and couldn’t just be blown to shit in transit.

  "We’ve found your Nuts, Dr. Sullivan. Now where the fuck are you?” Both Sullivans were now missing.

  "-TA for earth movers 0500." Kytta sounded loud and clear as his voice came back on line. For the moment. "And FYI, target made same request for heavy equipment. And of interest, target left urgent message for Spawn One. Party plans for tomorrow. Intel is checking chatter for next big bang. Go? No go?"

  Go figure. It seemed that Xavier wanted that pass cleared as fast as the T-FLAC teams did. Spawn One was Xavier's son, Eliseo, who was now in their custody. And whatever the hell Xavier had planned was still scheduled for tomorrow.

  "Go." The outbound E-1x had to be deactivated ASAP. To do that, they needed Oliver Sullivan's help, whether he gave it willingly or not. If he couldn't be found in the next eight hours, they'd attempt to clear the shipping lane and detonate instead of defuse. That shipment could not be allowed to reach land.

  Delta team signed off, followed immediately by Kai Turley. "Copy that. Eyes on Xavier. You must've bored him to tears. Dude's asleep in his office."

  "Stay alert. Keep eyes—-" The comm died. Par for the course, and no less annoying even if it was expected. It just made things that much more complicated when there was a breakdown in communication between the teams.

  Daklin sensed someone outside the door before he heard the grating of the antique key in the lock. River? Someone else? Glock raised, he moved quickly and silently across the room to stand between a glass-fronted bookcase and the closed door.

  River.

  Turning, she locked the door, then stood there, her back to the room, head bowed for several seconds. She wore a soft-looking blue and white print ankle length cotton dress, which bared lightly tanned arms and back, and, judging by her height, high heels.

  Jesus, did she have no self-preservation instincts? How could she not be aware of him standing two feet away with a loaded weapon?

  "And then," she whispered, her head still bowed as if waiting, tension humming in the air. "The scary bishop with the gun..." Slanting him a wicked smile, River taunted, "Did...what?" God. She made him smile. It was starting to feel almost natural. Laying his weapon on the top of the bookcase, Daklin stepped behind her and swept aside the silky strands of hair at her nape. He inhaled the clean floral scent of her skin deep into his lungs and held it there like a drug.

  He let out a sharp laugh. "You don't seem terribly afraid." Lowering his head, he brushed his lips over her soft skin and rewarded as she shuddered.

  "You have no idea." River reached up, then pulled his hand down between her breasts as she pressed her sweet ass against the hardness of his dick. "Feel how hard my heart's racing."

  Daklin nestled his open hand between the gentle swells as he kissed the side of her neck. She tilted her head to give him better access, as he traced
the swirl of her ear with the tip of his tongue. "How much time do we have?"

  "Hours." Three. He'd have to live the rest of his life in those hundred eighty minutes.

  Turning in his arms, River looped her own arms around his neck, pressing the hard peaks of her nipples against his chest.

  For a second, her gaze held his. Open, pained honesty flooded her eyes. Maybe it was just wishful thinking on his part, or maybe it was just in the waning moments before the most important op of his life, but he wanted someone to give a damn about him. Someone who would remember him when he was gone.

  It was selfish of him to look to her for that.

  But she did acknowledge him and, better than that, her gaze was wise, knowing, and forgiving. When in his life had he ever been able to know what a woman was thinking, or even care? His heart ached with that knowledge and the total certainty of it.

  Yeah, he knew that she knew.

  She knew he wasn’t likely to come off that damn mountain, no matter what he told her. And, because he wanted so badly to see it, he saw forgiveness in her eyes, as she stood on tiptoe, set her teeth on his chin and gave a little nip that jolted down the length of his body like a detonator cord and elongated his dick even more.

  “Hours, huh? I can think of few things to keep us occupied.”

  Like the very air that surrounded her, she was keeping things light. Refreshing. This is what happiness felt like, he thought, as she nipped again at his lower lip.

  Her fingers fisted in the hair on the back of his head, causing a sharp, stinging need to flood his body as she nibbled small kisses wherever she could reach. "The door's locked," she said, her voice throaty and low. "And there's a bed over there."

  He walked her backwards, his fingers on her hips, bunching miles of unnecessary fabric up her sleek legs. "The wall’s closer."

  "We'll get to the bed--" She paused as he pulled the dress over her head. It landed somewhere behind him with a soft plop. "--eventually, right?"