Murdock's Last Stand

“Murdock?”

His big shoulders tensed, but he didn’t turn around. “Yeah?”

“Let’s call a truce,” she said. “I admit that I’ve been deliberately difficult, but so have you. Can’t we be more pleasant to each other and agree to disagree on certain issues? After all, we have to put up with each other for only a few days. Just long enough to rescue my father.”

Hell! She’s right, he thought. Just because she pushed all his buttons didn’t mean he had to react like an idiot when she irritated him. So what if her superior, lady-of-the-manor persona reminded him of Barbara the Beast. So what if she’d made it abundantly clear that she didn’t like him. So what if she was a good-looking woman and when they came into physical contact with each other, sparks flew.

He turned slowly and by the time he faced her, he had a forced smile in place. “No more squabbles. We have a mission to accomplish together, whether we like it or not.”

“Do you think we’ll run into any major problems once we arrive in San Carlos?” she asked, wanting to focus on their joint venture and not on the man himself.

“Anything can happen once we cross the border over into Zaraza. That’s why it’s imperative that you don’t question any command I issue. If I tell you to jump off a bridge, then by God, you jump off that bridge without hesitation. Do you understand?”

Every muscle in Catherine’s body stiffened. She despised the thought of mindlessly following anyone’s lead. But her common sense told her that in this case she needed to make an exception. “I understand.”

He eyed her skeptically.

“Really. I do understand. I won’t like it,” she admitted. “But I will do whatever you tell me to do.”

“Without asking me a bunch of dumb fool questions?”

“Yes.”

“Then there’s a good chance that you and Lanny and I will be on a plane out of Zaraza by day after tomorrow.”

The six-and-half-hour flight to Peru seemed much longer. She and Murdock had talked very little, each aware that by not conversing, they were less likely to argue and break their new pledge of cooperation and cordiality. She’d tried to read the paperback novel she’d hidden away in her purse, but had been unable to concentrate. However, Murdock hadn’t seemed to have any trouble concentrating on the two action-adventure movies he’d watched to pass away the time.

When the pilot announced their imminent arrival at the Jorge Chavez International Airport, Murdock reached over and secured Catherine’s seat belt. Words of chastisement had been on the tip of her tongue. Instead, she forced a smile. After all, he was just doing his job, wasn’t he? Just taking care of Lanny’s daughter.

“Look out the window,” he said.

“Why?”

When he lifted his eyebrows, she clenched her jaw. Damn the man!

“Excuse me. Was that an order?”

“Just a suggestion,” he replied.

One glance out the window and she realized why Murdock had suggested taking a look at the city. A soft, hazy mist blanketed the entire area with a dreamlike atmosphere.

“What is it?” she asked. “Some sort of fog?”

“It’s the gar?a,” he said. “A fine mist that settles over the city from May to October. The residents don’t seem to mind at all.”

“You’ve been here before then?”

“Yeah, I’ve been here before.”

“With my father?”

“Yeah, twenty years ago. And a couple of times since.”

“On mercenary assignments?”

“Catherine, stop asking me about my life as a mercenary. Believe me, you really don’t want to hear any details and if you keep asking, eventually you might irritate me enough that I’ll tell you.”

“Is our truce over already?”

“No.”

“I won’t ask about your past again.”

“Good.”

Although a line of taxis waited in front of the airport terminal, Murdock steered her toward a waiting rental car. The way he casually carried the briefcase filled with $100,000 surprised her. He acted as if the satchel contained nothing more than easily replaced business documents. He popped the trunk, dumped her suitcase and his vinyl bag inside, then opened the door for her. There was something unnerving and yet reassuring about the way he placed his hand on the small of her back. She glanced over her shoulder at him, but could detect not the least bit of emotion on his face.

Once inside the vehicle, he laid the briefcase between them, then reached across her and opened the glove compartment. She gasped when she saw the gun. He took the weapon into his hand, then lifted his jacket and placed it inside a hip holster.

“How did that gun—” She bit down on her bottom lip. “I know. I know. Don’t ask.”

“You’re learning.”

“When do you meet your contact? Or is that top secret information, too?”

“Tonight, at the restaurant,” he said. “You’ll like Jose. All the ladies do.”

“You mean I’m actually going be allowed to hear what the man has to say? Gee whiz, I’m honored.”

“Hmph!” Murdock kept his gaze on the road.

“I don’t understand why all this cloak-and-dagger stuff is necessary.” When he didn’t respond, she continued. “I mean it seems fairly cut-and-dried to me. General Ramos wants the money. We want Lanny. A simple exchange. Right?”

“When it comes to Zaraza, General Ramos and the rebel army, nothing is simple.”

“Meaning?”

“Meaning this is a game I’ve played before. I know the rules. You don’t. Why do you think Rick Burdett included me in this little scenario?”

Catherine huffed loudly. “I’m not a complete idiot! I do understand that we’re going into a country that’s still involved in a twenty-year civil war and I realize how dangerous it could be for me. What I’m asking is why we seem to be taking the long way around. And why are you being so secretive with me? I’m not the enemy.”

Gripping the steering wheel with white-knuckled fierceness, Murdock gritted his teeth. “I’m not used to having to explain my actions, but here goes. I suppose by not enlightening you on every little detail, in not exposing you to all the so-called secrets, I feel as if I’m protecting you.”

“Protecting me from what?”

“From the rotten, stinking, ugly side of life. The life I’ve lived for the past twenty-odd years…the life your father once lived. I just figured Lanny would rather his little girl not know everything about the way he made his living.”

Strangely enough, Catherine felt duly chastised. She actually believed Murdock meant what he’d just said. Perhaps he was right. Perhaps it was better if she never knew everything there was to know about the world of the mercenary soldier. After all, why not simply accept Murdock at face value—a professional bodyguard, with an unsavory past. A civilized man. Although not quite a gentleman, not a ruffian either. A man who lived in a tastefully decorated apartment, drove a new sports car and dressed well. There was absolutely no reason why she should ever know anything more about him.