Resurrection Read online

  But he was still David’s brother, so Mary Grace wasn’t going to accuse Rafael of anything without proof.

  Moving quickly, she grabbed a syringe and drew three vials of blood from Arturo’s arm. She tucked them into a small carrying case along with all the notes she’d kept on his condition. She wasn’t allowed internet access but they’d permitted her to type up notes on a laptop. Then they’d printed everything off for her so she could stay organized. She hadn’t been allowed a phone and she’d never even seen one except the cell phones the guards used.

  Trembling, she weighed her options. She would have to go to David with what she suspected and ask him to test the blood. But it might not matter. He could kill her anyway. Heck, Rafael could kill her before she made it to David. He could say he’d caught her trying to kill their father…

  Her heart rate kicked up as the endless possibilities ran through her mind. The man had shown up today unexpectedly. Maybe he’d been planning something like this all along. Kill his father, then kill his brother. Then… Nausea roiled inside her.

  With her evidence in hand, she hurried to the bedroom door and peeked out into the hall. It was clear, and as far as she knew there were no cameras watching her. And she’d searched.

  As she took a step onto the tile floor, the walls trembled. What the—

  A loud boom sounded from somewhere outside.

  An explosion. Holy crap, the place was under attack! It had to be another cartel or maybe some law enforcement agency attacking. She doubted the latter, but it was a possibility.

  Hurrying down the hallway, she passed the same armed guard she saw every day coming from the direction of her room.

  “Go to your room and stay put! We’re under attack.” He didn’t bother waiting for her response as he spoke rapid-fire Spanish into a radio. He just assumed she’d comply.

  She did as he’d ordered but not because she planned to stay put. This might be her only chance to escape. The sun had set an hour ago and if the men were fighting, she had a very, very slim window. She couldn’t just sit around and jeopardize her unborn child by waiting to die.

  She tossed the bag onto the queen-sized bed and pulled out a pair of navy blue scrubs. Her childhood friend Colt had once told her that wearing dark blue was better than black when sneaking around in the dark. The man should know, since she was pretty sure he was a spy now. Her sneakers were gray but that would just have to do. Once she was dressed she pulled her dark hair back into a bun, slung the bag over her body crosswise, and peeked out the door.

  A guard at one end of the hallway had his back to her as he spoke into a radio. His words were too low to hear.

  Moving on quiet feet, she eased the door shut behind her and walked sideways in the opposite direction. Her heart beat in her throat as she kept her eye on him. If he turned and saw her she wasn’t sure what he’d do.

  Once she reached the end of the hallway she ducked down the connecting one. Relief surged through her to find it empty but she knew that could change in an instant.

  As voices trailed from somewhere nearby, getting closer by the second, a burst of panic jolted through her. She ducked into the second door on the left, not surprised it was a bedroom. Most of these rooms were.

  This one was empty for now, but there were clothes draped over the back of a chair. She snatched up a small knife on the desk and moved to the nearest window.

  Orange flames were visible through the sheer, cream-colored curtain. When she pushed it to the side a fraction, her eyes widened. One of the barns was on fire, horses were running wild and two vehicles were smoldering. It looked like a war zone down there.

  This was her chance. Likely the only one she’d get.

  She unlocked the window and pushed it open. Tensing for an alarm to go off, she shoved out a breath when nothing happened, and climbed out. Even if an alarm did go off, they had a hell of a lot more to worry about right now than her.

  Sucking in the cool, night air she shut the window then hurried along the side of the stucco house, making her way toward the back. If the barn and vehicles near the front were on fire, she could only hope she could make it through one of the fields undetected while everyone was distracted.

  Men were shouting and then another rumble shook the ground. She jolted back when an SUV about a hundred yards from her exploded, shooting straight up into the air. As the horses whinnied, terrified, she took off running toward a field.

  There were more shouts now and she had no idea if they were directed at her. She didn’t care. She just had to get out of here. She’d run into the countryside and hide. She just couldn’t go back to that place. Her heart in her throat, Mary Grace sprinted through the knee-high grass, her shoes and pants getting wet from the earlier, rare rain.

  At the sound of an engine revving behind her, a burst of adrenaline splintered through her. Run. Run. Run.

  It was getting closer and closer. The tree line was close too. Only thirty yards now. She could at least have a chance if she could just make it—

  The vehicle pulled up next to her, showering dirt and water all over her. Mary Grace braced for the bullets, the pain ripping through her flesh.

  “Your husband sent me! Get in!” a female voice shouted, dragging Mary Grace out of her tunnel vision.

  Mercer. He’d sent someone…

  She turned and realized it was a small Jeep-looking vehicle slowing down next to her with the passenger side window down. A woman with a mask and night vision goggles covering her face was behind the wheel.

  Without pause Mary Grace jumped into the passenger seat even though she immediately knew the woman was lying, despite that first thought about her husband.

  Because if Mercer had known she was alive, he wouldn’t have sent anyone. He’d have come himself. But if it meant taking a chance with this woman or the many men with guns behind them—who would very likely assume she’d killed Arturo, given the timing of this insanity—she was going with the woman.

  “Strap in and hold this.” The woman shoved what was most definitely a detonator at her. “Don’t press anything yet.” Her voice was clear because of the mouth hole in the dark mask.

  Mary Grace strapped in and looked behind them, her heart about to burst through her chest. This was all too surreal and terrifying.

  “I don’t want to start out with a lie. Your husband didn’t send me, but I’m still rescuing you and I’m going to get you home to him,” she said as gunfire erupted behind them. The woman pulled out a cell phone and made a call.

  She must have had an earpiece under the mask, because she didn’t hold the phone up to her head. Two SUVs were hot on their trail, tearing across the countryside about a football field length away.

  “Press the detonator now,” the woman ordered as they burst through a cluster of trees. It was incredibly dark without the headlights on but clearly the woman could see where they were going.

  Using the muted interior light of the vehicle, she pressed the little black and silver button and turned around to see what happened.

  Her eyes widened as multiple bursts of fire erupted in a long line that wrapped around a huge portion of the property.

  “Heh. Let’s see you follow me now, losers,” the woman muttered, her voice a little gleeful.

  “Who are you?” Mary Grace asked, grabbing the door handle to steady herself as they bounced along the uneven terrain.

  The woman didn’t answer, just kept driving in silence.

  Mary Grace’s heartbeat was an erratic tattoo as they burst through the cluster of trees onto a dusty, makeshift road she remembered arriving on before being taken to the Ramirez property two months ago. They were a few miles away now but they’d still have pursuers even if she couldn’t see anyone behind them.

  “Are we meeting up with your team?” Mary Grace had worked in a war zone before and she knew how these things worked. Sometimes American citizens were kidnapped and special ops-types of guys were sent in to rescue them. Whoever this woman was, she was almost
definitely an American and had to be working for someone.

  Her unlikely savior didn’t glance her way, just kept facing forward, NVGs in place as she made another phone call. Once she was through, she said, “There’s a helicopter waiting for us, but it’s just me. We’re good to go.”

  “You did all that?” Mary Grace jerked a finger behind her even though the fireballs were no longer visible.

  “I have a capacity for creating maximum damage when necessary. It’s one of my best skill sets.” The woman sounded pleased with herself even as she tucked her phone under her leg and drove like a bat out of hell through the darkness.

  Mary Grace didn’t respond, just fell back against the seat and placed a protective hand over her abdomen—even though she didn’t allow herself to relax. Until she was in her husband’s arms, she’d likely never relax again.

  “Son of a bitch. Hang on tight. We’ve got company.” The woman’s voice was controlled as she took a sharp curve on the dirt road.

  Looking behind them, Mary Grace saw two sets of headlights in the rearview mirror. Her stomach dipped. Even if this woman had rescued her, she wasn’t sure how the heck they were going to get out of here alive when they were outgunned and outnumbered in enemy territory.

  And in this part of Mexico, the entire province was enemy territory. The populace were just regular people trying to live their lives, but the cartels had everyone in a state of terror here. There would be nowhere truly safe for Mary Grace until they crossed the border.

  Chapter 3

  —I believe in karma. I also believe in a good throat punch when necessary.—

  Skye didn’t outwardly panic. She rarely did. But now anxiety had started to thread through her system.

  “When we make it to the chopper, you’re going to jump out and run. I’ll be covering you. We should have a few extra seconds on these guys and I’ve got someone who’ll be laying down cover for us.” Or he was supposed to. But Perez’s guy hadn’t answered her two calls since she’d picked up Mary Grace.

  “Okay.” To give her credit, the doctor was holding it together well. She would have had to, in order to survive living in the Ramirez compound for the last two months.

  With café au lait skin, dark eyes and a petite frame, Mary Grace would blend in well if they had to run on foot. Something Skye worried was a real possibility.

  Even though the guys chasing after them had turned on their headlights, she didn’t bother. Not with her NVGs. She was trying to remain as invisible as possible, as long as possible.

  The dirt road was clear because almost no one from the two nearby towns had any reason to travel anywhere near the Ramirez compound. She knew the family had homes in a couple countries, including the States, but ever since Arturo Ramirez had gotten sick they’d been holed up here. The mountainous region protected them, for the most part.

  “This is going to get bumpy.” She slowed the vehicle and made a hard turn into a cluster of trees, driving over dirt, roots and other foliage. They were so close to the rendezvous point she could taste it. And that bastard Diego had better be there.

  “Is that a helicopter?” Mary Grace asked even as Skye heard the familiar whop whop of the chopper.

  “Yeah.” She pressed her foot on the gas, her muscles tightening as they jerked over the uneven ground.

  As they burst through the trees into a small grass clearing, the helicopter lifted off, moving higher and higher away from them. He flew west, passing over them, and she wanted to scream. But she couldn’t lose her cool. Not in front of the woman she’d just rescued.

  Maybe their pursuers would think they’d escaped in the chopper.

  “That was our ride?”

  Son of a bitch. “Yep.” She continued driving through the clearing, planning to keep on driving until she could dispose of the vehicle and switch to the other one she’d secured.

  “Well—”

  An explosion tore through the air behind them. Skye jerked to a halt, stopping the vehicle and ripping her NVGs off. “Stay put.” She jumped out and watched as the helicopter fell from the air, an orangey red ball of flames above the trees. Moments later, the sound of screeching metal filled the air, followed by another, louder explosion.

  Good thing they hadn’t been on board after all. Thank you, karma. That’s what Martin got for trying to leave her behind.

  Moving quickly, she opened the back door and pulled out two backpacks. “Okay, get out now.”

  When Mary Grace did and hurried around to meet her, Skye gave her one of the packs. “There are a couple MREs, a pistol, and a satellite phone in there. I need to see if our pursuers are still coming after us.” And stop them if necessary. She handed the woman a pair of NVBs. The binos weren’t as good as the goggles she was using, but they would do. “I want you to head that way,” she said, pointing into the cluster of trees. “The binos have thermal capabilities so you’ll be able to see. Keep moving through those trees until you reach the edge of the forest. It leads to another paved road. You’ll cross over it. I’ve got an ATV waiting with keys in the ignition about twenty yards into the next cluster of forest. If I’m not back in twenty minutes, leave without me. I’d planned to drive northwest to an abandoned home but I can’t give you detailed directions because it’s more of a by-memory thing. So you’ll just have to hide on your own. I’ve seen your resume so I know you’re smart. If you have to move out on your own,” she said as she pulled out a couple hand grenades, “call your husband to come get you. He’ll have the right contacts and you’ll be able to blend in if you have to hide out for a while. Just don’t trust anyone.”

  “But—”

  “No. Go.” She put on her own backpack, grabbed her NVGs and headed in the direction of the downed helo.

  Her legs ate up the distance quickly as she raced back across the clearing. Her adrenaline was surging now, giving her an edge. It took less than seven minutes for her to make it through the woods. Dwindling flames were visible through the trees as she neared the crash site but she couldn’t hear any voices and she couldn’t see any human movement through her NVGs.

  Stepping out into the road she saw that the helicopter had crashed onto one of Ramirez’s vehicles and sliced up the second SUV. Holy shit. Talk about awesome karma.

  She wasn’t going to stick around and find out if there were any survivors. If there were, they wouldn’t be in any shape to come after her and Mary Grace. Moving fast, she retraced her steps. When she reached the first all-terrain vehicle she almost tossed a couple grenades in it to destroy it, but just in case anyone was out here lurking, she didn’t want to alert them to her presence.

  As she hurried in the direction Mary Grace had run, she paused when she saw a body lying prone next to a tree. Bending down, she cursed. No need to check for a pulse when there was a bullet hole through his head. Perez’s man, killed by Martin no doubt. If Martin hadn’t just died in the helicopter crash, she’d hunt him down for this.

  She searched the man for any personal identifiers, stripped his weapons and headed out again. She just hoped Mary Grace hadn’t left already.

  After breaching the cluster of trees, she pulled the NVGs off and raced across the deserted highway road into another cluster of trees. It should be easy enough to disappear into the forest, especially since she’d mapped out an escape route in case Martin decided to double-cross her. Always be prepared. With the light of the half-moon it was easy enough to see her way through this part of the forest.

  “Over here,” Mary Grace whispered once Skye stepped around a big pine tree.

  “We’re safe for now,” Skye said, hurrying to meet her, her boots crunching over fallen leaves and branches. As she stepped up to her, the sky rumbled overhead. It was supposed to be the freaking dry season but Mother Nature apparently hadn’t gotten the memo.

  She pulled out a raincoat poncho and goggles and handed them to Mary Grace. “Put these on.” Then she pulled out her own goggles and moved her backpack around to her front side before slidin
g onto the small ATV. “You call your husband yet?”

  Mary Grace got on behind her and wrapped her arms around Skye’s waist. “No. I…want to more than anything. But if you didn’t come back, I didn’t want to call him only to be killed an hour or two later by the Ramirez cartel. He’s too far to come get me and it would be beyond cruel to give him that kind of hope.” Her voice cracked on the last word.

  “He was right about you.” Colt had told her all about his childhood friends, the six people he’d grown up with and loved as if they were family. He’d wanted to introduce Skye to all of them. Hell, he’d talked about them so much she felt as if she knew them. Only three of them—including Mary Grace—lived in Redemption Harbor now, but their friendship had stood the test of time and distance. He’d once told her that Mary Grace had a big heart. Too big and too soft was what he’d actually said. But he’d said it in that way a guy talks about a little sister who he worried about.

  “Who?”

  Ignoring the question and cursing her own stupidity for revealing any personal information, she started the engine. “This thing isn’t too loud but sound can carry in places. Only talk if you have to. We’ve got about a two-hour ride through the forest. It’ll be bumpy and uncomfortable. But we’re getting a good head start.”

  “I’m ready to go. And thank you for saving me.”

  She didn’t respond, just headed out into the moonlit night, the purr of the engine and the distant thunder the only noises. Skye hated that the first escape out of here had failed, but that was why she always had a backup plan. Usually two or three.

  Always be prepared. That was her motto. And it was why she often carried explosives. Could never be too careful.

  * * *

  Skye guided the vehicle into the old barn and shut it off after parking it in one of the long-unused stalls where they’d be crashing for the night. The place had been abandoned a little less than a year ago when the old man who owned it had died. His daughter had left it and this small town for parts unknown. Texas, if Skye had to guess.