The Search (8 page)

"We've got a chance, boy," she whispered. "If he's not lying, we may be able to come out of this with something pretty good."

Nice.

"He's not nice, but it doesn't matter if he keeps his word."

Nice.

Stubborn dog. She got up and moved over to the couch. "Come on, we have to get some sleep. We want to be in top form and get through this fast and get home."

Monty settled on the floor in front of the couch, but his gaze went to the back of the cabin, where Logan had disappeared.

Nice . . .

"Then you've got her?" Margaret asked after Logan had rattled off Sarah's list to her. "I was hoping maybe you'd strike out."

"I know you were. You made that pretty clear," Logan said. "Find out everything you can about Todd Madden. I want a complete report."

"How complete?"

"I want to know the name of every kid he mugged in kindergarten."

"Oh, that kind of report. I gather we're no longer playing on the same team with him?"

"He's on the funding committee for ATF, but I don't think that's how he's pulling Sarah Patrick's strings. It's something else."

"You've got her. What difference does it make?"

"It makes a difference. Any messages?"

"Galen called from Bogota. He said it's not urgent, but he wants you to phone him."

"As soon as I hang up. Did he mention any problems?"

"No, he said to tell you the team was in place." She paused and then added grudgingly, "You know, I really like him."

"And that surprises you? Oh, yes, it would. You're not supposed to like men like Galen. It violates your code."

"Yes, it does, but Galen is . . . different."

"That's indisputable. Nothing from Castleton?"

"No. And it may take a while to get the dirt on Madden. He's a politician and they bury their skeletons pretty deep."

"Just get it."

"How's the pooch?"

"Easier than Sarah."

"Well, you can hardly blame her for--"

"I'll call you when we get to Santo Camaro." He ended the call and dialed Galen's number.

"What's happening?"

"No greeting? No small talk?" Galen drawled. "After all those years in Tokyo, I'd think you'd have learned some manners."

"Do you have a location?"

"Have I ever failed you? I got a general location, but Sanchez says Rudzak moves camp every few days. And he's going to set up a decoy camp as bait."

"We have to find the main camp now. We can't afford any extra time. We have to get in and out fast or we'll have a dead hostage. You're sure you got the truth from Sanchez?"

"I'm truly hurt. Not only a lack of manners, but doubt? I admit Sanchez was stubborn, but eventually his good sense prevailed."

"Money?"

"No. Sanchez already makes a tremendous amount in the drug trade. There's millions floating around down here. I had to convince the scumbag he'd be safer running from Rudzak than from me. Can you imagine, he wasn't taking me seriously?"

"I'm sure that didn't last long."

"Almost thirty minutes."

"You're slipping."

"Now insults?" He made a tsk-tsk sound. "And while I was at it, I did that little research project you heaped on me."

"And?"

"Confirmed."

Logan's hand tightened on the phone. "Son of a bitch."

"Do you want me to take care of it?"

"No, I'll do it myself." Dammit, he had known it. "But I can't have Sanchez ratting to Rudzak."

"He won't. I sent him out of the country with a suitcase of Rudzak's money he was laundering. He's neatly boxed."

"Good," Logan said. "We'll be arriving in Santo Camaro shortly."

"I'm already on my way. I should be there in about an hour, and I'll contact Castleton to pick you up at the airport."

Logan hung up. Everything was in motion. As usual, Galen had succeeded and had the information he needed. Logan had Sarah and Monty in hand and had found a way to get Sarah to voluntarily work with him.

Yeah, sure. Actually Sarah had taken control. She'd turned a situation that made her a victim to one in which she had control. How many times had she had to do that with her life on the line?

Christ, what was he doing? He had made his decision and it was no time for regrets. He shoved his phone in his pocket, left his office, and started back up the aisle toward the cockpit.

Sarah was asleep on the couch and didn't stir as he stopped beside her. Monty opened one eye and his tail thumped lazily.

"Shh."

But Sarah didn't wake, and even in slumber she was curled up in a defensive position, her muscles locked and stiff.

Search and rescue. What made anyone embrace a career that involved not only danger but constant despair? All the dossiers and reports in the world never really told you what made a person tick. Logan knew Sarah was strong, smart, streetwise, and had a wicked sense of humor with everyone but him. But he was beginning to realize that there might be a whole lot more beneath that tough facade. What kind of woman was Sarah Patrick?

Well, he was not likely to find out. She was wary and he had established himself firmly in the enemy camp. What the hell. It didn't matter. He didn't have to know her. It was better if he didn't. He had learned a long time ago that it was dangerous to get close to people in dangerous situations. It hurt too much if you lost them.

Chen Li.

He shunted the thought back into the darkness, where it belonged. He had been younger, less experienced then. This situation didn't have to end as that one had. Sarah Patrick wasn't Chen Li.

He could keep Sarah alive.

Santo Camaro

"This is Sarah Patrick," Logan told Castleton at the airport. "Ron Castleton. He works for me."

"Don't we all," she murmured. She gestured and Monty jumped into Castleton's car. "How do you do, Mr. Castleton. This is Monty. I don't have any health papers for him. Are we going to have any trouble with the authorities?"

Castleton was staring wide-eyed at the dog. "What's happening here? If I'd had any warning, I could have--"

"We won't need papers," Logan said. "We'll be in and out before anyone knows we've arrived."

"And what if we aren't?"

"I'll take care of it." Logan got into the front passenger seat. "Have you heard from Galen?"

"He's at the facility. He said you'd want to start out right away."

"He's right." He looked at the sky, which was already darkening to twilight. "But we should probably wait until morning. Did you hear any more from Rudzak?"

"Not since I left the money where he told me." He glanced sideways at Logan. "But he has informants everywhere. He's probably got someone watching us now."

"Then let's get moving."

Castleton started the car. "The dog's a dead giveaway. He'll know you're trying to find Bassett. He has contacts who can trace--"

"That's why we have to move quickly."

"Did you get the supplies on the list I made out?" Sarah asked.

Castleton frowned. "What supplies? I didn't receive any list."

"Galen has the supplies, Sarah," Logan said. "I had Margaret call him while he was on the road and give him your list."

"I don't like bringing a woman into this." Castleton looked over his shoulder at Sarah. "Has Logan explained how dangerous this situation is? I hope you know what you're getting into."

She didn't really know anything, dammit. "Thanks for your concern, but we'll be okay." Although Castleton wasn't making her feel any better. And the heat . . . it was going to make the search twice as difficult. It was hard to breathe and Monty was already panting. She reached down and stroked Monty's head. "I think it's time for a clip, boy."

"We don't have time," Logan said.

"I'm not suggesting taking him to a groomer. I'll do it myself." Her lips thinned. "I won't take him into the jungle until he's more comfortable. He's a long-haired dog and we don't know how much time this search will take."

"If it takes enough time for the heat to cause him a problem, then we're in trouble."

"It's causing him trouble now. I'm clipping him."

Logan opened his mouth to protest and then thought better of it. "Okay, we'll work around it."

"You bet we will." She looked out the window. They'd turned onto a bumpy dirt road and the jungle foliage was crawling over the road, encroaching on both sides of the car. It was not only the weather that was oppressive. "Who is this Galen? Another employee?"

Logan nodded. "Sort of a freelance agent."

"Sort of?"

"We're here." Castleton turned a curve in the road and then screeched to a halt to avoid hitting the man standing in the middle of the road. "What the hell! Are you crazy, Galen?"

"That's been debated for decades." He grinned at Logan. "What am I going to do with you? You're always late. I have dinner on the table."

"You almost caused me to run off the road." Castleton turned off the ignition. "I wasn't expecting you to--"

"I didn't think there'd be any real danger. This is private property and you're the cautious type, Castleton. I knew you'd be meandering along at a snail's pace." He opened the back door of the car and gave a low whistle as he saw Monty on the floor. "Ah, the recipient of the dog biscuits in my backpack. I admit I'm a little disappointed. I thought they might be for you, Logan. I was hoping you'd acquired more adventurous tastes. Remember when you refused to eat those delicious grubs in that Maori settlement in--"

"This is Sean Galen," Logan interrupted. "Sarah Patrick and her dog, Monty."

"Delighted." Galen smiled as he helped her out of the car. He was in his mid- to late thirties, a little over medium height, with a lithe and athletic body. His dark hair was cut close, but it persisted in curling and his eyes were as dark and irrepressible as his hair. Energy emanated from him in waves. "Do you like ham and macaroni casserole?"

British? He had a faint cockney accent. "Yes."

"Good. That's what's for dinner." He glanced down at Monty. "I might sneak some to you too. That dog food and vitamins I brought don't look awe-inspiring."

"So much for adventurous dining," Logan murmured.

"Well, I didn't know about the lady, but Castleton didn't impress me as being anything but a meat-and-potatoes man." He strode off to the side of the road. "This way. I set up camp some distance from those ruins. They depressed me."

For the first time, Sarah's gaze turned to the burned-out facility a few hundred yards ahead. She had been so filled with anger, worry, and resentment, she hadn't really thought about the people who had lived and died here. All those promising lives cut off by assassins' bullets . . .

"See? The lady's getting depressed too," Galen said. "Come on, Castleton. You can help me dish up."

"I have to get back to town."

"After dinner. Do you want to hurt my feelings?"

"I should . . ." Castleton shrugged and then followed Galen into the brush.

She stood looking after them for a moment. She felt as if she were being swept away and she wasn't sure she liked it.

"It's okay." Logan took her elbow. "He won't poison you. Galen's actually a gourmet cook."

"In the middle of the jungle?"

"In the middle of a hurricane. He adapts to any situation."

"I wasn't afraid of his poisoning me. He just surprised me."

"I can understand the feeling." He pushed her gently toward the side of the road. "He's surprised me a few times."

They were obviously old and good friends. "The grubs?"

"He didn't tell you I actually ate the damn things. He backed me in a corner where I had to do it or insult the Maoris."

"Just what are grubs?"

"Larvae. And they look disgustingly like worms."

"I thought so." She smiled. "I think I'm beginning to like your Mr. Galen."

"I thought that story would endear him to you." He was silent a moment. "You can trust him, Sarah. If anything happens to me, do what he says and he'll get you out."

She felt a chill she tried to ignore. "I'm not used to trusting anyone else to take care of me. Just what does he do for you?"

"I suppose you might call him a problem solver."

"Problems like this?"

"It's his specialty. So don't feel bad about letting him take over if things get rough."

"Do you let him take over?"

"Hell, yes."

She gazed at him skeptically. "I can't see you trusting anyone but yourself."

"I learned a long time ago how to delegate." He smiled. "Why else would I have gone after you?"

"I don't see you stepping aside and turning me loose to do my job."

"In spite of what you think of me, I can't shrug off responsibility."

"How long have you known Galen?"

"Fifteen years or so. I met him when I was in Japan. He was fresh out of the service and working for a local businessman."

"So you hired him away?"

"At that point in my life I couldn't afford him. I was struggling to keep a fledgling business afloat. We became involved in several projects together in the next few years. Then, when I began having personal problems, he helped me out."

What kind of personal problems? she wondered. She wasn't about to ask. She didn't want to know anything about his personal life. She just wanted to do the job and walk away. "And he's worked for you ever since?"

"On occasion." They had come into the clearing where Galen had set up camp. To her amazement, there was a table beside the fire with a damask tablecloth and colorful china. "What the hell?"

Galen looked up and grinned. "My mum always told me that you should never use a picnic as an excuse for ignoring the finer things in life."

"And you think this job is going to be a picnic?"

"It depends on how you look at it."

"How do you intend to transport all this stuff?"

"I don't. It's disposable. Isn't everything?"

"No."

He raised his brows. "Good. It's refreshing to meet someone who's not a cynic." He carefully dished up the macaroni. "Tell me, Logan, do these squiggly bits of pasta remind you of grubs?"

The casserole was excellent and the coffee Galen served afterward was even better. "I'm sorry, there's no dessert. Next time perhaps." He lifted a brow. "Are you going to wash up, Castleton? It's only fair."

Castleton got to his feet. "I have to get back to town. I've got to make final arrangements to get our people out of the hospital. Thanks for the meal. It was really very good."

Galen made a face. "Words of praise don't get those dishes done."

Logan stood up. "I'll walk you to the car, Castleton. There's something I want you to do for me."

"Sure." Castleton turned to Sarah. "Take care of yourself. Good luck."

"Thank you."

She watched Castleton and Logan stroll across the glade and into the trees, then she stood up and began stacking the plates.

"Sit down and have another cup of coffee," Galen said. "I was joking."

"I'm not. Fair is fair."

"Right. And you said you have to clip the pup." He nodded at Monty. "That's going to be quite a job with all that golden fluff. I want you to get some sleep tonight."

"It won't take that long. Monty's very good."

"Clip the pup," he said firmly as he took the dishes from her. "You might break my fine china."

"It's plastic."

"Oh, you noticed? The catalogue swore no one would be able to tell the difference."

She smiled. "They took you, Galen."

"The story of my life. Do you want me to get your clippers for you? They're in a backpack, along with all your supplies."

She wasn't going to win this one. In spite of Galen's easygoing manner, it was clear he also had a streak of iron. "I'll get them."

"That was quite a list you gave Logan."

She knelt and rummaged in the backpack. "I had to leave without my equipment. You got all the bottled water? I can't have Monty getting sick."

"So the water is all for Monty?"

"Most of it. I can get along on less than he can." She sat down beside Monty. "Come on, boy. Let's get this stuff off you."

He sighed and rolled over on his stomach.

Galen chuckled. "You're right, he's good with it. Nice dog."