Morgan's Rescue Read online

  Her stomach tightened even more. “Hector, you said the same thing to me three years ago when Morgan Trayhern’s men were captured by Ramirez.” She placed the cup and saucer back on the silver tray.

  “Yes, yes, I did.” He carefully refolded the handkerchief and placed it in his back pocket. “What I tell you now is to be held in total confidence. Do you understand that?”

  “Of course,” Pilar murmured. She clasped her hands on top of her purse. Hector’s expression had become pained. “What is going on, Hector? I don’t think you looked this worried when Trayhern’s men were captured. It must be very bad.”

  “It is, it is, Pilar.” He stood up and lumbered around the desk, his gaze never leaving hers. “You are like a daughter to me, Pilar,” he repeated, “and God in Heaven knows—” he raised his hand in testimony “—I don’t want to ask this of you. You have always been so loyal and honest. You are young and beautiful, with a lifetime stretching before you. I hate to even talk of this incident, but I must. I fear you are the only one who can help us.”

  He leaned against the edge of his desk, very near her chair, his voice lowering with feeling. “You know that our government interfaces on all levels with the United States. We have worked with their FBI, their CIA, DEA and so on, over the years. Now we have military specialists from the army and Marine Corps down here helping our troops wipe out the cocaine connections. And you know that Morgan Trayhern’s people were asked to participate in the defending of certain villages near Ramirez’s mountain fortresses.” He looked at her intently. “You remember meeting Morgan?”

  Pilar nodded somberly. “Of course, Hector.”

  “He is a man of immense integrity. Like you and me, Pilar.”

  “Yes, he was. I liked him immediately.”

  “His word is his bond,” Hector agreed. “I could always count on Morgan to be honest. He never played word games or hid a secret agenda as so many of the other government people we deal with do. Do you recall that after you helped free his men from Ramirez’s prison, he sent a huge donation to your village as thanks?”

  “I won’t ever forget it,” Pilar said, closing her eyes in thought. She had met Morgan Trayhern at a party at the American embassy a month after his men had been freed. He’d asked specifically to meet her, to thank her personally for her help in leading the troops successfully through the hazardous jungles and mountains to Ramirez’s hideout. Morgan’s intensity had impressed her. Never had she met a man so profoundly loyal to the people he employed. The depth of his concern for them, unmatched even by Hector’s warmth and caring, had shaken her.

  Morgan had toasted Pilar in front of all the officials, generals and ambassadors, openly acknowledging her help. And she had stood, champagne in hand, blushing and longing to run away. She had never liked the limelight, but Morgan had gently wrapped his hand around her arm—as if he knew she might bolt—and raised his glass, his voice ringing with emotion as he gave her the lion’s share of credit for the mission’s success.

  Later, he had pulled her aside and asked if she would consider working for Perseus. Pilar had been honored, but her days as an undercover agent were over. After the pain of the events that had first caused her to leave her country’s service at twenty-one, she’d sworn never to resume that role, so she had turned Morgan down. Never would she forget his probing gaze as he’d silently studied her—as if he could look inside her head, inside her heart, and know what she was thinking and feeling. Only one other man had ever affected her that way. But with Morgan she had felt none of the panic or anxiety that the other man had aroused, only the burning focus of his care and perception.

  Morgan hadn’t been daunted by her lineage, either. In fact, he’d applauded her Indian blood. One of the reasons she had taken the mission in the first place was because of the Eastern Cherokee heritage of Wolf Harding, one of the two men captured by Ramirez. And she’d told Morgan the truth about that decision. It didn’t matter whether Wolf was North American or South American, they shared the same blood. Morgan seemed to intuitively understand her reasoning.

  When he’d asked what he could do to thank her, Pilar had been dumbfounded. No one had ever asked that of her before, so she’d had no words for him. Morgan had placed his hand on her shoulder and said he would think of an appropriate way to repay her courage in laying her life on the line for his people. Two weeks later, Pilar had been back at work at the horse farm when she’d received a check from Perseus for twenty-five thousand dollars. An accompanying letter from Morgan explained she was to use the money for her village in whatever way she felt was needed.

  And every year since then, a check for the same amount had arrived. Pilar took the money to the council of elders of the village, which included her grandmother, and in three years, the local children had a schoolhouse and a teacher. Books had been bought, classes organized, and now a vocational school was being built to serve the entire region, where Indian children could learn not only to read and write, but other marketable skills as well. All thanks to Morgan Trayhern’s unending generosity.

  Pilar opened her eyes. “What do you want of me, Hector?” she asked steadily.

  “It concerns Morgan.”

  “Oh?”

  “Yes.” He sighed. Again, he took out his handkerchief and mopped his brow. “Something very bad has happened,” he muttered. “I’m afraid Ramirez and Garcia have conspired to kidnap Morgan from his home in the United States and to take his wife, Laura, and their son, Jason, as well.”

  Pilar was instantly on her feet. “Oh, no!” Her purse slid off her lap. Shaken, she leaned down and retrieved it. “When did this happen, Hector?”

  “Not long ago.” He shrugged lamely. “We were contacted immediately, and my office has been working feverishly to help Perseus with its efforts to locate them. The good news is that Laura was found at Garcia’s estate on Nevis Island, in the Caribbean, and Jason, their small niño, was found in Maui, Hawaii.”

  Pilar’s stomach tightened into a knot, and she pressed her palm against it. “Dios, Hector. Are they all right? What about Morgan? Have they found him? Is he dead or alive?”

  He held up his hand. “One question at a time, Pilar.” He wiped his brow. “Laura was rescued first, and now I’ve received word that Jason is safe, too. The Pentagon just intercepted a satellite message, and they’ve been able to confirm that Morgan is being held at Ramirez’s stronghold near your village.”

  Pilar’s stomach screamed with pain, and she swallowed against a dry throat. “Oh, no… .” She inhaled sharply. “He’s alive?”

  “We don’t know.”

  “Knowing the snake that Ramirez is, Morgan is alive but very badly tortured,” Pilar said bitterly, pressing a hand to her forehead. “Not Morgan Trayhern. Of all people, Hector. He is a good man. A man with a generous heart.” She sank back into her chair, glad for its support.

  Hector moved to her side and patted her shoulder gently. “I know, Pilar. I know. I’m aware of his generosity to you and your village. I don’t know too many men in this world with such strength of loyalty to others. It grieves me badly in my heart of hearts to know that Ramirez has him hostage.”

  Shutting her eyes, Pilar tried to stop the anguish threatening to rise from her stomach into her throat. “He’s such a fine person,” she said in a choked voice. “You saw what Ramirez did to the two men we rescued?”

  “Yes,” Hector murmured heavily, moving back to his former position against the desk. “The Indian almost died. Ramirez is a monster when it comes to drugs and torture methods.”

  “Ramirez hates Morgan,” Pilar whispered, looking up at her former boss. “He even threatened to come into our village with his men and kill all of us. He did that to another village near us.”

  “That is why you are here, Pilar,” Hector said in a low voice. “I must ask for your help once again. I need you to lead one of Morgan’s finest operatives to the fortress. We are afraid if we go in with special troops, a second time, Ramirez will kill Morgan.
Ramirez will be expecting us to use the same tactics. He knows we will try to rescue Morgan if we locate him. Luckily, right now, we believe Ramirez has no idea that we have done so.

  “That is where you come in, Pilar,” continued Hector, settling more heavily against the solid mahogany. “We want you to go back to your village. Don the clothes of your people and go undercover, saying you’re the daughter of a farmer from one of the villages Ramirez controls. They don’t know everyone from those communities, so you should be safe enough in that regard. Lead this agent to Ramirez’s fortress. A special team in several helicopters will wait well outside Ramirez’s sight and hearing.”

  “What do you want me to do then, Hector?”

  “We want you to penetrate the fortress, Pilar. Find out where Morgan is being kept. If he is alive or dead.”

  “And then this special team will fly in and take him out?”

  “Yes.” He frowned. “This mission will be much more dangerous for you, Pilar. Last time, you led a contingent of troops to the fortress and stood back while they made the assault. This time it is different.” He gave her a keen look. “Your life will be in direct jeopardy. There will be no immediate and assured rescue if you get into trouble. But you’ll be going in with one of Morgan’s most trusted mercenaries. Two against Ramirez. The odds are not fair, I grant you, but if we are to have a prayer of rescuing Morgan, we must do things differently and surprise Ramirez completely. I’m sure he will be expecting troops as last time and will have prepared accordingly.

  “Many people from these villages serve as his eyes and ears, as you know. You must have as little contact with anyone as possible. If you must talk to people, tell them this white Norte Americano has hired you to take him into the jungles to carry on his botany work. Morgan’s mercenary will pose as a biologist from Stanford University in California, and you as his guide. The local people will accept that explanation. Scientists are always coming to our country for such reasons.

  “You are to make your way through the jungle and into the mountains to his fortress, El Nido del Águila, the ‘Eagle’s Nest.’ Enter the fortress and find Morgan.”

  Pilar wrinkled her nose. “Any woman entering El Nido del Águila is a target, Hector. You know that.”

  “Yes, yes, I do know it. But someone must get in and verify that Morgan is there.”

  “This plan is very dangerous, Hector,” Pilar said with great deliberation. “I have a daughter to raise. I cannot just throw responsibility aside without serious promise from you—from the government of Peru—that you will care for her monetarily if I am killed.”

  He stared at her. “Then you will take this assignment?”

  “Only because Morgan is involved. Hector, I do not want to put my life on the line. My daughter, Rane, is seven years old, and she is my world—” Her voice broke. “I know my grandparents will care for Rane while I take this mission. But if Ramirez catches me, I have no doubts about what will happen to me, Hector. I have seen his cruelty. If he even suspects that I’m a government agent, he will drug me and wring the truth out of me. He will rape and kill me, then send his men to my village to kill everyone. He will kill Rane and my grandparents. I have seen the devastation he can wreak.”

  “The government of Peru has already signed papers on your behalf, Pilar. I told them that if you took this mission, generous monetary provisions had to be made for your daughter and village.”

  “Yes,” she said, studying Hector. “I won’t do it otherwise. I can’t… .”

  Hector moved around his desk, pulled open a drawer and produced a legal-size document. “Here, read this. If you agree with the provisions, Pilar, then sign it.”

  Her hand trembled slightly as she took the heavy, official-looking document. In it, the Peruvian government promised to protect her family. A stipend of one thousand dollars a month would be provided for Rane until she was eighteen years old. Rane would be sent to the university in Lima to get a degree, with all expenses paid. Permanent troop protection would be offered to the village, should Ramirez find out where she had come from. Her grandparents would be placed in a protection program and kept safe.

  Pilar studied every clause carefully. Finally she looked up. “I want Rane to have a full scholarship to Harvard University, Hector. If Ramirez discovers my real name and connection, the government is to take Rane to the United States. She is to be provided three thousand dollars a month until she graduates, with payments to stop once she gets a job. She will be given a new name and identity. I know Ramirez well enough to know he would try to track my daughter down and kill her out of revenge.”

  “It will be done,” Hector promised, taking the document and quickly writing the new clauses into the contract and initialing them. “Anything else?”

  “I want my grandparents to receive a monthly check from the government of Peru for five hundred dollars until the day they die. Just because they’re placed in a protection program doesn’t mean they will be cared for. Government people could dump my grandparents into some small town and leave them without a way to survive.”

  “Very well,” Hector murmured, again writing hastily. He looked up and handed her the document. “Sign, please.”

  Pilar took the pen. She stood and placed the document on the polished surface of Hector’s desk, her stomach quivering with fear. If it weren’t Morgan Trayhern’s own life at stake, she would never take this mission, risking her beautiful daughter, the child created out of pure love. But she owed Morgan. Scribbling her signature, she realized the enormity of her decision.

  “There… .” she murmured, handing the document back to Hector. “It is official.”

  “And legal.” Hector placed the document aside. “I will make sure that all these things are done should you be killed, Pilar.” He opened his hands. “But of course we will do everything to prevent that from happening in the first place. We will do our best to ensure contact with you via radio. The special troops assigned to this mission are the best we have. And one of Morgan’s best mercenaries will be at your side.”

  Pilar sat down. “You must be speaking of Jake Randolph, then. Remember? He was with me when I led the troops to the fortress before.”

  “Er…no, it isn’t Jake. He’s at Perseus, running the company in Morgan’s absence. It is another man… .” Hector pulled a file toward him and quickly opened it. “Ah, yes. And this is so fortunate, Pilar—you have worked with this man before.”

  Frowning, Pilar said, “I’ve worked only with Jake Randolph from Morgan’s company.”

  “No, no, you misunderstand.” Hector beamed happily and held up a color photo. “You must remember Culver Lachlan? He used to be with the CIA. You two worked together for three months and—”

  Pilar gave a cry, standing up so swiftly that the heavy chair she was sitting in was nearly knocked over. Her fists knotted and she stared, frozen, at the face looking back at her from the photo.

  Hector frowned. “Pilar? What is it? You look as if you’re going to faint. Dios, are you all right?” He quickly dropped the photo and rushed around the desk. Slipping his hand under her elbow, he helped her back into the chair. “Come, come,” he coaxed, “sit down. There…that’s it.” He straightened and gave her a confused look. “Pilar, you look as though you’ve seen a ghost. What is it? Surely, you remember Mr. Lachlan? He was the last agent you worked with before you had to quit.” He patted her shoulder. “Pilar?”

  Tears rushed to her eyes as she sat rigidly, only vaguely aware of Hector’s attempts to comfort her. Oh, no, no…how could this be? Could fate be this cruel? Her mouth had gone dry and her throat constricted. Tears blurred the world around her as she struggled to control her rampant feelings. Culver. How she had tried to put him out of her heart and mind. Culver Lachlan. The name sent a bittersweet river of feelings coursing through her, including a terror, and anxiety in her stomach that nauseated her.

  “Dios, Pilar, let me get you a glass of water. You look so pale. Stay still. Stay still and I will be
right back… .”

  She barely heard Hector leave her side. All her focus, all her rage, sadness and guilt were aimed at the photo lying on his desk. It had been years. Eight long years…Pressing her cool, trembling fingertips to her brow, Pilar tried to rise above the rush of emotions released by the unexpected sight of that photo.

  Alone in the office, she stood on wobbly knees. Leaning across the desk, she forced herself to take the photo and turn it around, though her fingers seemed to burn where she touched it. Culver Lachlan. His name went like a knife to her suddenly aching heart. Eight painful years of trying to forget. How could he suddenly be thrown back into her life?

  Suddenly panicked, Pilar acknowledged with a horrible realization that by signing those papers, she had been stuck not only with the mission, but with Lachlan. She forced herself to look at the photo. He was a giant of a man at six foot five, brawny and strong as his Scottish ancestors before him. He was square jawed, with a thick, bull-like neck, broad, powerful shoulders and a barrel chest. He was built as stoutly as the finest Paso Fino. Solid. Hard. Dangerous. Oh, how dangerous he had been to her young, vulnerable emotions! Though he’d been only twenty-five at the time himself, but he’d been far from innocent to the ways of the world as she had been.

  Much as she wanted to, Pilar couldn’t forget the imposing shadow Culver had cast on her life. But the man in the photo looked different from the Culver she remembered. Here was a hardened warrior with a face like armor itself, the pale blue eyes devoid of emotion.

  Jerking back her hand, Pilar stood hypnotized by the photo, wanting to wrench her gaze from it, but helpless to do so. Her heart was pounding like that of a frightened animal relentlessly pursued by a jaguar. She saw a coldness she’d not seen before in Culver. His mouth…She quivered internally, recalling his mouth upon her own, hotly, swiftly taking hers, stealing her breath, stealing her very soul with those scalding, spiraling kisses. Now that mouth had become a thin, harsh line, no longer revealing any softness.