Man With A Mission

“No buts,” Morgan said. “You want your sister back, Captain?”

“Well…yes, sir, I do, but—”

“Dammit, man,” Mike said, irritated, “don’t throw up this macho mano a mano stuff with us. It doesn’t fly. Our women are equal to our men. Period. Captain Stevenson said your best bet is to use Lieutenant Cortina. She knows the valley. She was born there. She speaks five languages fluently. You speak any but English?”

Stung, Jake growled, “I speak Spanish.”

Mike shrugged. “Then you aren’t going to be as bad a liability as I first thought. Just know that Spanish is a second language down in the valley, Captain. Quechua is first, and Lieutenant Cortina speaks it fluently because she is part Quechuan. Got it?”

“Yes, sir, I got it.”

Morgan tapped his fingers briskly on the table and studied Travers from beneath his dark eyebrows. “I hear the words of agreement from you, Captain, but I sure as hell hear something else in your voice that says you want to take over this mission and do what you think is best. Well, that’s not going to happen. Lieutenant Cortina is in charge of this mission. You got that?”

Jake’s mouth fell open. “That’s impossible, sir!”

“Sit down, Captain. There’s more,” Morgan snarled.

Jake sat down rigidly, breathing hard. A woman! And on top of it all, as his commander? Not a chance!

Jabbing his finger at the ranger, Morgan said, “Lieutenant Cortina runs this mission. If she tells you to jump, you ask how high. Got it?”

“I don’t feel, sir, that any woman can successfully undertake such a mission.”

Morgan gave him a frustrated glare. “Then you do not want our help, Captain Travers. Go find your sister on your own.”

Gulping unsteadily, Jake looked at Morgan’s set face, his glacial blue eyes burning holes through him. The man meant what he said and Jake knew it. Morgan Trayhern was not bluffing. Sitting there, Jake chewed over his options. He desperately needed someone who knew the Rainbow Valley region. He needed an interpreter. Smarting beneath their collective glares, Jake looked down at his hands, which were clenched in his lap beneath the table. Grief and worry over Tal warred with his belief that a woman could never do a man’s job, especially a job like this one. What were his options?

If he flew to Peru on his own, he’d have to hire a guide and interpreter. Could the guide be trusted? How could Jake know for sure he’d find someone who wasn’t a drug runner, working for the drug lord of the valley? The only thing Jake had going for him was his knowledge of Spanish. That and his skills as a ranger, which would definitely be an asset in this situation.

Still…Tal’s life was hanging in the balance. Could he let his personal beliefs and male pride keep him from coming to her rescue? She could die because he refused to work with a woman. A shudder ran through him. He compressed his lips and raised his head.

“All right,” Jake rasped unsteadily, “I’ll work with Lieutenant Cortina.”

Morgan’s glare cut through him. “I want to hear you promise me that you’ll be her subordinate in this, Captain Travers. That you’ll accept her leadership, her authority and her status as commander on this mission.”

Swallowing hard, Jake muttered, “I accept Lieutenant Cortina as my commander on this spec ops.”

There was a long, strained silence in the room after he spoke. Jake looked anxiously at Morgan, and then at the thin-lipped, scowling Mike Houston. Both men traded glances. Mike spoke first.

“You realize, Captain Travers, that if you’re just mouthing words on this, we’ll be following your mission down there and will know at once? We refuse to jeopardize Lieutenant Cortina’s life if you decide to get up on your male testosterone motorcycle and try to take over. She’ll be carrying an iridium satellite phone on her person at all times. Captain Stevenson, as we speak, is giving Lieutenant Cortina the mission profile that I had faxed down to her earlier.

“Lieutenant Cortina will know that she’s the commander on this little adventure,” Mike continued. “She’s your best chance to find your sister and get her out alive. You aren’t. You’re a gringo, a foreigner, while Ana Cortina knows Peru by heart. The sooner you let go of your damned male pride and surrender to her knowledge of the terrain, the people and the environment, the sooner your sister will be found, hopefully alive and unharmed. But the more you try to siphon off her authority or command, the more the chances of your sister being found at all, much less alive, deteriorate rapidly. Do you understand that?” Mike’s gaze nailed him directly.

Flexing his fists beneath the table, Jake muttered, “Yes, sir, I got it.”

Morgan sighed. “I don’t know that I feel you’re trustworthy on this matter, Captain Travers. However, for the sake of your sister, who’s the innocent in all of this, I’m going to approve this mission. The moment I hear, or Mike Houston hears, of you sabotaging Lieutenant Cortina in any way, I’ll have your ass pulled out of Peru so fast it will make even your seasoned military head spin. Do we understand one another? And if that happens, then you can consider your sister dead. All the choices and decisions are yours, Captain Travers. Work as a team or else.”

Holding his anger in check, Jake nodded. “I hear you, sir. And I’m grateful for your help. Tal’s the important one here, not me. Not what I believe.”

“Fine,” Morgan said crisply, standing. He buttoned his dark gray coat. “Let’s go out and look at the photo and file that I’m sure have come in by now.”

Jake rose. He felt relief, though he was still angry. More than anything, he bridled silently over the fact that he was going to have a woman as his commanding officer on this mission. Of all the hurdles and trials he knew were before him as he tried to locate Tal, he’d never figured that a woman would also be thrown into this murky, dangerous situation. Dammit.

Chapter Two

A soft knock on Maya Stevenson’s door made her lift her head from the slew of paperwork that littered her desk. Her door was always open, but her people gave a perfunctory knock anyway.

“Come in, Ana.” She gestured to the wooden chair to the left of her desk. “Have a seat.” She noticed that Lieutenant Ana Lucia Cortina was in her black, snug-fitting helicopter uniform, her helmet tucked beneath her left arm. She had been on twenty-four-hour duty and had just flown a mission four hours ago. She looked tired. There were smudges beneath her glorious cinnamon-colored eyes. Her ebony hair, frayed from wearing the helmet, was still in a chignon at the nape of her slender neck.

“Hi…thanks…” Ana gave Maya a slight, weary smile.

“How’d the flight go?” Maya noticed as Ana set the helmet down on the desk that she looked drawn. Maya knew why. The death of her fiancе a year ago was still wearing on Ana. And Maya knew that today was Roberto’s birthday. He would have been twenty-eight years old, if he’d lived. She wished that she could love someone as much as Ana had loved Roberto, but no man had entered her life to make her feel that way. Maya had long ago given up hoping such a man existed for her.

“We got jumped by a Kamov Black Shark helicopter flown by Faro Valentino’s Russian mercenaries near the Bolivian border,” Ana murmured, sitting down in the chair. Lifting her long, slender arms, she pulled her black hair out of the tight knot at the base of her neck, shook her head and allowed the strands to tumble across her proud shoulders. “Nothing new. I took a few bullet holes in the fuselage of my Apache, but otherwise, no casualties. My crew is going to have to check it to make sure no bullets have nicked the cables in that area, but that’s all.”

“Hmm.” Maya frowned, tinkering with the silver pen between her fingers. “Get any rockets off at them?”

One corner of Ana’s full mouth lifted slightly. “Oh, yes. We got close but didn’t bring it down.” She scowled, her fine, thin black brows bunching. “I just wish we had radar capability to pick up their signature, Maya. Whatever kind of paint they’ve got on those Kamovs, we can’t detect them, and they jump us from behind every time. One of these days we’re going to get shot down,” she said, grimacing.

“I know…what we need are those new Boeing D model Apaches that came out last year. I hear through the transom that they still don’t pick up the Black Shark signature, but at least we’d have a better helo than our Russian counterpart in every other way. Right now, we’re hurting. Our budget can’t afford one.”

Ana ran her fingers through her hair and massaged her scalp. “Ugh, that helmet is so heavy. I get a headache every time.” She opened her eyes and smiled at Maya, who was dressed in the same type of black uniform. Her commanding officer’s black hair was a little longer than hers, and she wore it down when she didn’t have to fly. “I’ve given up hope of us ever getting the new D model, Maya. The U.S. Army wants to ignore the fact that we’re down here doing a fine job of stopping drug runners from reaching the Bolivian border. Because we’re a bunch of upstart women army officers.”

“Humph, isn’t that the truth.” Maya set the pen aside and leaned back in her creaky old leather chair. Outside her opened door, women clerks who worked in the headquarters building of their base, hidden deep inside a cave, moved up and down the corridor like worker bees. Keeping her voice down, Maya said to Ana, “I have a project for you, if you want it.”

Perking up, Ana said, “Oh? What? Do I get some R and R over in Agua Caliente? Do I get to stay in Gringo Bill’s Hostel and rest up? I’m dying for one of Patrick’s mocha lattes at India Feliz Restaurant.” She laughed softly, knowing that they were far too shorthanded for Maya to give her a well deserved day off.

Maya picked up a fax, rose and stretched across her desk to hand it to Ana. “No, sorry. I know you deserve some downtime. How’d you like to work with this guy? He’s a former U.S. Army Ranger captain.”

Ana took the flimsy piece of paper. The black-and-white photo of a man, his face square, eyes penetrating, mouth full but unsmiling, stared back at her. For whatever reason, Ana’s heart gave a lurch. Puzzled as to why, she studied the photo, which showed the army officer in his military uniform, ribbons and all. She recognized the parachute wings on the left breast pocket, and the ribbons he’d accrued were impressive. Despite his rock-hard expression, Ana’s intuition told her this was a man with a heart and a conscience. She had nothing to prove that, of course; it was simply something she felt to be true. And in her business as a combat pilot, her intuition was more finely honed than most. She relied on it heavily, and it had never been wrong yet.

Puzzled over why her heart had lurched unexpectedly, Ana remembered that today was Roberto’s birthday. The day that they had set for their wedding. Grief flowed through her momentarily. Well, that would never be, now. Roberto had been killed while aboard his Peruvian Navy cruiser, shot by drug runners. That was a year ago. Rubbing her heart, Ana looked up. She saw Maya studying her intently. Ana knew that look and smiled slightly.

“Okay, boss, what’s up? You’re sitting there looking at me like a jaguar eyeing a good meal.” Ana raised the fax and waved it a little. “He’s not an Apache pilot. He’s a ground pounder.”

Grinning, Maya said, “Yeah, he’s not one of us. He’s in the doggy corps.”

They both laughed. There was infamous rivalry between the U.S. Army aviation corps and the rest of the troops, which handled ground duty.

“I’ve just been told there’s a special assignment and we’ve been tapped for it,” Maya told her. “This man’s sister, Talia Travers, is a hydrologist. She finds water so wells can be dug. Anyway, she was over in Rainbow Valley when she suddenly disappeared. The foundation she works for called Jake Travers, the guy in the photo. When he tried to get the army to give him TDY—temporary duty—so he could come down here and search for his sister, they refused. So he resigned.”

“Wow,” Ana murmured, “that’s a pretty rash and reckless thing to do with your career, but I don’t blame him under the circumstances. Family is more important.”

“Yeah, isn’t it though?” Maya shook her head. “Typical out-of-step army higher-ups made the wrong decision—again. They just lost a good man and an officer. Anyway…Travers went to a spook ops organization known as Perseus. I have a friend who works with them—Mike Houston. He contacted me about this mission. What they need is a guide, Ana, to help Travers locate his sister. You’re the obvious choice. You were born at Ollytatambu at the neck of the Rainbow Valley. No one knows that huge valley like you do. You grew up climbing the mountains and walking the hundred-mile-long Inka Trail that winds through it.” Maya smiled briefly. “So I thought you might like to take this TDY. How about it?”

Frowning, Ana studied the officer’s stony countenance once more. “What do they suspect? Druggies? A kidnapping?”

“Yeah, but no one’s called in a kidnap demand to Travers’s parents or to anyone else. Houston suspects it’s Rojas, a small-time, local drug lord trying to position himself higher up on that ladder by moving into Rainbow Valley and grabbing a rich norteamericana, like Tal Travers. She’s not rich, but he doesn’t know that—yet. Rojas is obviously not so wealthy as to have an iridium sat phone on him. They cost four thousand dollars U.S. And even regular phones aren’t common in Rainbow Valley. My hunch is he’s holding on to her until he can get to Cusco to make the call.”