Surrender In Silk

“Once we leave the jeep, I’m going to need an hour and fifteen minutes,” Rick said, going over what they’d planned.

“I brought a book to help pass the time.”

He glanced at her and grinned. “Loosen up, Sanders. It’ll take a lot more than these guys to kill Zach. You know that. They don’t come any tougher than him.”

“I know.”

She tugged her cap lower over her forehead. If their luck was good, no one would see the jeep speeding along the dirt-and-sand-coated paved road. They would get to the compound, blow up the depot, get Zach and be gone. If their luck was bad—

Jamie refused to think about that. She’d known the risks involved when she’d stormed into Winston’s office. Being obliterated by the depot explosion was the least of her concerns.

She shifted on her seat, then reached over her shoulder to pull her long braid out of the way. As she fingered the end, she remembered the first time Zach had told her she had to cut her hair before she returned to class the next day. She’d spent the night studying regulations and had reported back that short hair wasn’t one of the rules. They weren’t in the military, after all. The agency’s purpose was to quickly protect U.S. interests abroad—by whatever means necessary.

She felt her lips curve into a smile. Zach had been mad enough to spit nails. For a second, something had flickered in his gaze. She’d wanted to believe it was respect. He’d leaned so close, she’d felt his breath on her face.

“Your damn hair is going to get you killed, Sanders,” he’d roared, still inches from her.

Although she’d been shaking so hard she’d barely been able to stand, she hadn’t backed down.

“It’s a risk I’m willing to take, sir.”

He’d grabbed her braid and pulled it around her neck. Hard. “What about the risk to the team?”

She hadn’t had an answer for that question. She couldn’t risk the others because of her pride.

He’d given her a cruel, mocking smile and walked away. So much for respect. That night she’d cut her hair. In the past few years, she’d let it grow back.

Zach. 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 he’d been wrong about that. She’d survived the six-month training course. She’d mastered weapons, communications, map reading and an assortment of electronic and computerized equipment. She was one of the best trainees the agency had ever had. She’d worked hard to build her upper-body strength, but she hadn’t known how to develop her killer instinct. She knew it, and Zach knew it.

He was good-looking enough to tempt a statue. She’d developed a crush the first week of training, then had tried to bury it under hard work. She’d done everything Zach ever asked and more, but he’d never acknowledged her effort. Or her. Occasionally he’d gone for a drink with the guys, but she’d never been invited. She was done trying to make Zach notice or like her. Jamie had been looking forward to seeing the last of Zach Jones. After graduation she’d gotten her first assignment. With him.

Zach plowed through the jungle. When she would have stopped to study her compass, he moved quickly, as if the path were familiar. She didn’t even see a path.

Life was all around them. Plants, bugs, snakes, small creatures that rustled the leaves on the ground. Only the birds were silent, alert and watchful. She wasn’t fond of the jungle. Why couldn’t insurrection happen in the desert, which she was familiar with, or better yet in the mountains? She’d always wanted to go to the mountains.

She pictured a cool stream washing over shiny rocks. Unfortunately, at the same moment, she stopped paying attention to the path in front of her. She tripped over a half-hidden tree root and tumbled toward the ground.

Zach caught her before she fell. He jerked on her backpack, pulling at her shoulders. With his other hand, he grabbed her arm. His fingers bit into her sore muscles.

“That one is poisonous,” he said when he released her. She glanced in the direction he pointed and saw a brightly colored snake slither away.

She looked up at him. Good manners dictated that she thank him. No matter how hard he made it, he’d just saved her life. Her heart pounded loud and fast in her chest. Her breathing was labored. The physical reaction was as much to seeing the deadly snake as to the exertions of hiking through the killer heat.

The hell with good manners. “If you dislike me so much, why didn’t you ask to have me transferred to another assignment?” she asked.

“I requested you, Sanders.”

Of course. It made sense. “So you could drum me out.” It wasn’t a question.

Jamie was nearly five-nine, but Zach was a good six inches taller than her. He outweighed her by fifty pounds. He was as friendly as an iceberg and as animated as a building. He was good-looking enough to never lack for female companionship, but Jamie knew that inside, Zach Jones was nothing but a black hole. Which made the slightly romantic feelings she had when she was around him even more frustrating. The man obviously hated her.

“I don’t think you have what it takes,” he said.

“You told me I wouldn’t graduate and you were wrong.”

“Now we’re out in the real world. No second chances.”

She flinched, knowing he was referring to her appeal on failing the obstacle course. “I see. And you wanted to be here to watch me blow it.”

“I’m here to get the job done, Sanders. Nothing more. Quit trying to make it personal.”

“Requesting me specifically is personal.”

They stood there, staring at each other. She could feel sweat collecting on her face and dripping down her back. Zach looked cool and comfortable. If she thought she could have gotten away with it, she would have elbowed him in the midsection and left him for snake bait.

His dark gaze searched her face, then he gave her one of his mocking smiles. “Why don’t you find camp for us?” he said, and stepped back to let her lead.

“My pleasure, sir.” She pulled her compass out of her pants pocket and glanced at it. Then she checked the sun. Her stomach was acting up again. She knew it was from that last encounter with a snake. It had to be. She refused to be affected by Zach Jones’s low opinion of her.

Jamie found their base camp without a problem. Once there, she slipped off her heavy backpack and poured herself a glass of water from one of the plastic containers they’d brought with them.

Their mission was simple. Collect information on certain known bands of guerrilla soldiers, including their whereabouts and numbers. They were not to confront or interact. They had four days, then they would be picked up by the same large, unmarked helicopters that had dropped them here.

Two more days, Jamie told herself. She would survive because she had something to prove. And because this was what she wanted. She’d known early on she wouldn’t make a good cop, like her dad, but this was close. She could still make a difference.

She checked the damp ground for bugs and snakes, then sank down and leaned against a thick tree. She closed her eyes and willed herself to relax. She was running on nerves. She hadn’t slept well in a week, and the strain was starting to get to her.

“How’s it going?”

She opened her eyes and saw Rick Estes standing in front of her. As the only woman, she’d taken a lot of ribbing at the beginning of class. By the second week, the seven men knew she wasn’t kidding and she wasn’t a typical female. All but a couple of them had kept their distance, not wanting to risk a friendship with a woman who Zach Jones was trying to get rid of.

She hadn’t asked for special treatment then and she wouldn’t accept it now. She’d earned everything through hard work and determination. If she hadn’t had so much trouble with the obstacle course, she would have graduated at the top of her class. If not for the one or two friendships she’d made, that six-month training course would have been miserable. Rick had been one of the friends. She was glad he was on the assignment with her.

She shrugged. “It’s going okay.”

Rick sank next to her and grinned. “Jones still riding you?”

“Constantly.”

On her good days, she told herself Zach Jones went out of his way to make her life miserable because he thought she had potential. He was determined to make her tough enough to survive and be the best. On her bad days, she figured he was nothing but a misogynist bastard who deserved to be horsewhipped, staked to a fire ant hill and left to slowly die. She told herself she didn’t need his approval or his friendship to survive. But in her heart, she wanted both.

Worse, she wanted more.

“See anything?” he asked.

“Someone on patrol.”

Actually she hadn’t seen him—Zach had. She might know all the theories and have a thorough understanding of field work, but she was quickly learning that was very different than actually living through it.

“Oh, I saw a poisonous snake, too,” she said.

“Cool. What kind?”

“I don’t want to think about it.”

Rick made a fist and gave her a mock punch in the upper arm. “Chin up, Sanders. It’ll get easier.”

“Thanks.”

She thought about pointing out that he was as green as she was, but figured this was male posturing. No doubt Rick also lived in fear of making a big mistake. Out here you didn’t fail a test if you messed up; you risked dying and taking everyone on the team with you.

Rick stood up and headed for one of the small tents they’d pitched. Jamie studied the camp. There were six operatives assigned to this mission. She and Rick were the newbies. Each of them had a senior officer who watched over them. She didn’t know if it was just fate or punishment sent down by an angry God, but she’d drawn Zach Jones.

Two of the men stood over a small metal folding table. Maps were spread out and examined. Zach strolled over and joined the discussion. He wasn’t the tallest of the group, nor was he the loudest, but as soon as he spoke, everyone paid attention.

Her gaze flickered over him, noting the broad shoulders, the strong muscles. He worked hard to stay in shape. She’d seen him running through the forest by the training center on the mornings she’d gotten up early to work through the obstacle course.

She’d known from the beginning that her lack of upper-body strength was going to be a problem. Running track had given her endurance, but not muscles in her arms. As soon as she’d been recruited by the agency, she’d started a training regime. Three mornings a week on the obstacle course, three mornings on weights, one day of rest.

About the third week of training, Zach had run through the forest and caught her on the overhead ladder. He’d startled her so much, she’d lost her grip and fallen on her butt in the mud. She’d thought he might give her a hand up, but instead he’d just stared. As usual, his expression hadn’t given anything away.

“I know this is a weakness, sir,” she’d said nervously. “I’m determined to pass.”

He’d jogged away without saying a word. Three days later, he’d shown up in the gym ten minutes after she started her circuit. They’d worked out together, sweating in a silence punctuated only by grunts and curses through the last repetition. After a couple of weeks of not talking, he’d offered to spot her so she could work with free weights and barbells.

She smiled slightly. There was something unnerving about lying flat on her back, staring up at a man’s thighs. But she’d done it because getting through was all that mattered. She’d worked hard and gotten stronger. Not that Zach had noticed.

Jamie finished her water and set the empty glass on her lap. Zach pulled off his cap and ran his fingers through his dark hair. Everything about him was dark, she thought. His hair, his eyes, his expression. If she pictured him in her mind, it was always a night scene, which was ridiculous. Except for a week spent on night maneuvers, she’d never seen the man in anything but daylight. Still, that was how she thought of him—dark and dangerous. As if he were second cousin to the devil himself.

A rustling in the bushes caught her attention. She turned toward the sound, then stiffened. It was definitely coming from something large. There was supposed to be one man on patrol. Had something happened?

Jamie glanced at Zach and the other two men. She needed to alert them, but she didn’t want to call out and risk giving their position away. Rick was on the far side of camp. He wasn’t going to be any help.

Quickly she glanced at the ground and found a small rock. She picked it up and took aim. The rock sailed toward Zach and hit him square in the back. He spun toward her.

She’d already pulled her pistol free and crouched by the tree. When she had his attention, she pointed toward the noise. Instantly the other men pulled their weapons, as well.

The rustling grew louder.

“Puta Madre! Where is your pinche camp?”

Jamie glanced at Zach. He smiled and lowered his pistol, then motioned for her to do the same.

“Ernesto, over here, amigo,” he called.

Jamie eased back into a sitting position and watched as a man of medium build broke through the brush and stepped into the small clearing. He glanced around, raising his eyebrows when he saw her, then walked to Zach and held out his hand.

“Ah, Major Jones, so pleased to see you again.”

Zach slapped the man on the back. “Last time you called me General Jones.”

“Last time I had just been paid by your agency. Now it is three weeks until the next check. So you are simply a major.”

“Makes sense.” Zach pointed to the map. “Tell me what you know, Ernesto.”

Their voices lowered, and Jamie couldn’t hear what they were saying. She walked over to get another glass of water, then returned to her seat by the tree. Ernesto kept glancing at her over his shoulder. She grimaced. Obviously he wasn’t used to seeing an American woman in the middle of the jungle.

A small lizard jumped from the tree and landed on her lap. She prided herself on only jumping slightly and not screaming at all. The creature stared at her for several seconds, flicked its tongue, then scurried off her and into the underbrush.

Definitely the desert, she thought. Next time she wanted an assignment in the desert.

Jamie, Rick and Nick Havers left on patrol at dawn. Jamie knew it was dawn because the total darkness lightened to only semi-darkness. They had simple instructions. Check the north end of the shallow valley to make sure there weren’t any soldiers camping out. According to Ernesto, their informant, the area was clean, but Zach wanted to double-check. Havers was along to make sure she and Rick didn’t get into trouble. His instructions were to observe, but not interfere. Which meant she and Rick could make fools of themselves and have a witness.

“Don’t screw this up,” she muttered under her breath. She pulled out her compass and then glanced east, searching for the sun.

“I’ll lead,” Rick said, moving in front of her and heading northeast.

“Why?”

He tossed her a grin over his shoulder. “Because I’ve got the real directional equipment. It’s a guy thing.”

She rolled her eyes and glanced at Havers, who was waiting for them to pick a route. “I thought that only helped you find women.”

“It has other uses.”

“I’ll be sure to mention that in my report,” Jamie told him, and fell into step. If Rick felt walking in front of her made him a man, let him. She was more interested in surviving this assignment. Havers walked behind her.

Last night had been a total failure in the sleep department. She’d barely managed to relax, then it was her turn for night duty. She’d paced around the camp, trying not to think about which creepy crawlies were trying to attach themselves to her. When Benton had relieved her, she still hadn’t been able to sleep. The skin on the back of her neck prickled. Not from the heat or the bugs, but from a feeling that wouldn’t go away. A feeling that something bad was going to happen.

After a few minutes, she glanced at her compass. “You’re straying too far east. We’re supposed to go due north for a mile or so, then head east. On this course, we’ll miss the whole northwest end of the valley.”

She glanced at Havers. He grinned but was silent.

Rick ignored her and kept walking. “Men,” she muttered, and continued to check her compass. She noted their position and the movement of the sun. They were coming out of the densest part of the jungle, and she could actually see patches of blue sky overhead. Sweat poured down her face and back. It had to be nearly a hundred degrees with close to ninety percent humidity.

Two hours later, Rick stopped and took a drink from his canteen. Jamie pulled out a small piece of paper. She’d made a hand-drawn copy of the map on the table.

“We should have reached the river by now,” she said.