Page 8 of Dangerous Obsession

“Let’s not worry until we have to, okay?” He gave her a kind, grandfatherly smile. “I’ve got a few other patients, but I’ll check back with you before I leave.”

“Thank you.” Marigold felt numb, and the grief of losing a baby she hadn’t even known she was carrying fell over her like a heavy cloak.

How had she let her life get so far off track? There’d been a time when she loved to laugh and enjoyed the world around her. She’d had hopes and dreams for herself.

Cliff’s manipulation had become a disease that infected her psyche. By the time she realized what was happening, she was in too deep and all alone.

“I know you’re scared and probably feel alone right now, Marigold.” The doctor patted her hand. “But your friends seem to love you, and I promise, you’re going to make it through this. I have faith in you.”

A tear streamed down her cheek, and she swallowed against what felt like a jagged rock lodged in her throat. How was it possible someone she’d just met had more confidence in her than she had in herself?

The doctor popped a tissue from the box on the nightstand and handed it to her.

“Thank you.” Marigold dabbed it gently to her cheeks.

Doctor Castille left, and Dulce and her parents came back into the room. Marigold forced a smile, lied through her teeth, and told them everything was fine. She would fall apart later—after they were gone, when the floor was quiet and she was alone in the room.

CHAPTER THREE

Fouryearslater…

Golden “Viking” Bailey swung his machete back and forth, hacking away thick jungle foliage and vines hanging over and across their path, just waiting to trip them up. A broken bone in this environment could be enough to kill a man.

“There.” The deep voice of his teammate, Patrick Nakai, aka Hawk, came from up ahead. “Through there will be our best vantage point.” He pointed toward the speckles of daylight peeking through a profuse bank of ferns a short distance away.

If you were faced with navigating your way through a dense jungle inhabited by all types of dangerous creatures, you’d want a guy like Hawk leading the way. Viking was a pretty damn good tracker, but he couldn’t hold a candle to Hawk. The guy’s skills were passed down to him by his father, who learned them from his father, and so on. The guy was an immeasurable asset to their team, and Viking trusted him with his life.

They both worked for OSI, O’Halleran Security International, one of the top security organizations in the world. Founded by Beck O’Halleran, it specialized in close protection, private security, national and international hostage retrieval, tracking, and cyber security, just to mention a few. OSI got the jobs the government couldn’t or wouldn’t take, and they weren’t bound by the typical restrictions that hamstrung most government agencies.

Viking and Hawk were assigned to OSI’s newly formed Dark Ops division, led by Cole Lambert, a former NSA spook who worked deep undercover for years before taking the job with OSI. Their mission was to identify, locate, and liberate victims of sexual exploitation and human trafficking, and to destroy and dismantle the individuals, networks, and organizations responsible.

Which was why they were sweaty, knee-deep in muck, and covered in bug bites after two hours of trudging through the jungle.

OSI had gotten a tip that Hector Triano was holding a group of females—ranging in age from ten to twenty-one—at his walled compound. A massive swath of land, like a scar carved through the middle of the jungle terrain, had been cleared to make room for the property. This particular residence—Triano had several—was about fifteen clicks outside of Villavicencio, Meta, Colombia, and the only way to get eyes on it without being spotted was to navigate the treacherous terrain surrounding the estate on all sides.

They navigated their way up the slight incline to the tree line and discovered a twenty-foot-wide patch of tall grass and weeds was the only thing between them and where the hill sloped steeply downward. Assuming Triano had surveillance—which a guy in his business definitely would—a six-foot-eight dude like Viking would easily be seen if he just strolled out of the jungle.

Viking dragged his forearm across his face to wipe away the sweat burning his eyes.

“Here goes nothin’.” He double-checked that his rifle was tight against his back, dropped to his hands and knees, and started belly-crawling.

Hawk did the same, and their elbows, knees, and toes of their boots chewed through the grass as they made their way to the edge of the hill. They settled into their position above the east side of the compound.

Viking stopped near the edge, dragged the strap over his head, and nestled the butt of the rifle against the sweet spot on his right shoulder. He scanned the far hillside through the powerful scope, then focused on Triano’s massive compound in the clearing below.

“Other than the guards, there doesn’t appear to be much activity.” Hawk looked through his high-powered binoculars.

“Check out the box truck parked next to that small outbuilding.” Viking nudged him with his elbow.

“Just like the one our witness described,” Hawk said.

The team had grabbed some food at a little restaurant in the nearby village of Cielo Púrpura, or Purple Sky. The woman who owned the place must’ve sensed they could help and pulled Cole aside. She whispered to him in broken English about seeing a bunch of girls being moved from one truck to another. Some of the girls were really little, and she got choked up when she described hearing one of them crying for her mommy.

“Poor little thing was about the same age as my granddaughter,” she’d said through tears. “It broke my heart, and I just couldn’t ignore what was happening anymore.” Talking to them could get her killed, but she’d taken the risk and done it anyway.

“Diablo and Ocho, in position.” Cole’s quiet voice crackled in Viking’s earpiece. Their team leader was using the nickname he’d been given when he worked undercover. People throughout the trafficking industry feared the man named Diablo, and rightfully so.

Cole and Eddie Suarez, code name Ocho, knew each other from their time working undercover. Eddie had been embedded with AJ Muñoz, the oldest son of one of Triano’s rivals, for three years and had put himself in grave danger by providing valuable intel that assisted with Dulce’s rescue. With Eddie’s cover blown, Cole convinced him to come work with the Dark Ops team.

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