Page 51 of Dangerous Liaisons

Chapter Thirty-Eight

Ten meters later, a spot of light shimmered on a leaf inches from Jesse’s face. “Stop,” she whispered into her microphone.

Cole halted behind her. She grasped his hand, tugged him up beside her, and placed his palm over the leaf.

He pressed his mouth to her ear and whispered, “Not moonlight.”

She resisted the urge to jerk away from him. Why didn’t he use his radio?

“Not moonlight,” she replied, and motioned him to follow.

They inched forward. Soon, dim slivers of light appeared. Her pulse accelerated. They were nearing the compound.

At last, the jungle thinned and the wall of a hacienda became visible through the foliage. Jesse motioned Cole to slow down and, together, they crept forward. The segment of wall became a ten thousand square foot house consisting of additions, breezeways and outbuildings. She halted and scanned the compound. Rubber trees and palms dotted the yard. Fifty meters to the right, a wide driveway abutted the house, then disappeared around a corner. Aside from the crickets playing their soft tunes in harmony with the deep-throated bullfrogs, the place seemed abandoned.

Two guards with CR-21’s slung over their shoulders abruptly stepped into view around a corner of the house. Jesse took a ragged breath. That’s what she got for thinking too soon. Damn, she hated surprises. This was the first time she had gone in without conducting surveillance and she felt like a blinding spotlight waited to nail her like a trapped rat. No backup here.

Cole nudged her. She started. Yes, there was Cole.

He pointed at the far right corner. Two rubber trees with wide trunks grew near the garage where the driveway ended. They could use the trees as cover in approaching the house. Cole lifted a closed fist to shoulder height. He pointed to his eyes, then at the two guards. He wanted to go first and her to stay and cover him. Teamwork, she reminded herself, the male version, and nodded.

She kept a bead on the guards who lit cigarettes while Cole crawled to the edge of the foliage. He paused, then scurried, crab-like on hands and feet, to the first of the rubber trees. He scanned the area, hurried to the second tree, then waved her forward.

Jesse crossed to the first tree, jerking to a halt behind the trunk when a bird squawked. It fluttered out of the tree, banking into the jungle, swearing its fool head off. Jesse centered her attention on the two guards who puffed away at their cigarettes in silence.

“Okay,” she whispered. “Here’s hoping you Colombian boys are city bred.”

She darted to the next tree. When she reached Cole, he scrambled to the garage and hugged the wall. Together, they slid along the building, then under a wrap-around veranda. Her heart pounded in unison with the croak of the bullfrogs. The feeling they were walking into a trap ate at her. Get over it, she ordered herself. You’re just scared. Perez has rival cartels and sabotage to deal with. All his attention is focused there. He has no idea the target is his hacienda.

Cole halted at the first of three atrium doors connecting the veranda to the main house and pointed at her, his eyes with two fingers, then the surrounding yard. She was to keep watch. Jesse nodded and, keeping him in her peripheral vision, began a systematic scan of the grounds.

A moment later, he popped the door latch and stepped inside. With a final glance around, Jesse slipped on her UV glasses and stepped onto the tile floor alongside him. There was no light, no people in sight, and no sound. She took in the twelve-foot long formal dining table with ten chairs that dominated the middle of the room, her attention catching on a centerpiece of two cherubs, probably gold, holding a bouquet of flowers. A china cabinet stood guard against the right-hand wall, with a buffet centered against the opposite wall. Cole pointed to large sliding doors to the right of the buffet and Jesse gave a quick shake of her head. She’d seen other mansions like this. That would be a pass-through to the kitchen.

Jesse pointed to the smaller doors left of the buffet, and whispered, “Servants’ entrance and hallways. Access to the entire house, but separate from the main corridors. We’ll check behind those large doors first,” she nodded at a set of closed pocket-doors on the facing wall, “then check the servant’s hallways.”

Cole nodded. He took three steps and flattened against the wall beside the double-doors to watch the kitchen entrance and her back. Jesse stepped beside him and inched open the doors. Nothing shone in the feeble UV light, and she opened the doors two inches. She angled her head and the violet glow illuminated a divan with a high, ornate back in the middle of the room, opposite a more modern, angled sofa. In between, sat a large coffee table.

Three remotes lay on a stack of magazines, with the top magazine open and hanging half off the side facing her. Her attention snapped to a glowing object beside the magazines. A glow-in-the-dark remote control, she thought, then realized the light emanated from a tiny rectangular window on some sort of electrical device. She squinted, but couldn’t discern the object.

Jesse slid the doors open, then slipped inside. She hurried forward, flanked the nearest sofa, Cole behind her. She recognized the open magazine as Penthouse, the centerfold spread eagle. She stepped closer and saw the glowing object was a cell phone displaying the time. Her heart thundered. The phone is still connected in an active call. That meant—

“It’s a trap!”

Jesse spun on Cole as a chorus of machine gun clicks sounded around them. The overhead light flicked on and two CR-21’s leveled on Jesse and Cole from a doorway on the right.