Page 12 of Skull

He looked down at Hazard, his eyes shifting from accusation to medical concern. “Help me get him onto the cot.”

Dr. Alzate was stronger than he looked. In just a few minutes he managed to move Archer onto the threadbare bed. He pulled over a small three-legged stool and sat. He removed a small flashlight from his bag and directed its beam over Hazard’s pupils.

“Are you a doctor?”

“Yes.”

Her eyes widened in startled surprise. This was unexpected. “Too bad your son didn’t follow in your footsteps.”

“Oh, he did. He was a different man before he met Pincho.”

There were no more words as the doctor flicked the flashlight over Hazard’s pupils. He gently examined the injured cheek and frowned. “Your man has a severe concussion and a fractured cheekbone. The best thing for him is sleep. I will hook up an IV so he can get fluids and antibiotics. I will teach you how to change his dressing and leave you with some pain medication in case he wakes up. I will speak to my daughter-in-law. I cannot stop her from her bloody tasks, but I will remind her that if you two die before she gets Angel back, none of this will have meant a thing.”

“I’m not sure she is going to get what she wants,” Leigh said frankly as Dr. Alzate gently cleaned and dressed Archer’s wound. “The US does not have a strong record of giving in to kidnappings and threats. There will be no debate. If it were up to me, I would not negotiate.”

“That is unfortunate. She is as adamant as they come when it concerns getting Angel back by any means. I’m sorry you have been caught in the crossfire of her rage. She has not been herself since her father was imprisoned and died there.”

Leigh could find no sympathy for Pincho. The woman was following in her father’s footsteps. She had chosen this life and chosen to take all those lives to feed her greed and power. Even if Angel was only a cover, he was as culpable as she was. “She is the head of a vicious, international cartel that runs drugs across the world, including fentanyl. She, Angel, and their gang have murdered dozens of people. I do not have to tell you how dangerous it is. How can you be associated with such an organization? You’re a doctor, for God’s sake.”

He shrugged. “I didn’t have much of a choice. She is ruthless even with her own family. I’m trying to keep myself and my wife alive.”

“Of course, I forgot. This is not the US, and you and your people don’t always have a choice. I am sorry, but that will not stop my government from taking her down and anyone who stands with her.”

Dr. Alzate stood and prepped an IV bag. He wrapped a rubber band around Hazard’s arm, found a vein, and inserted the needle before hanging it on a hook near the bed. “We are two people caught up in a violent situation. Please be careful around her. Here are fresh bandages, tape, and antiseptic. Change his dressing once a day. I will try to return, but we are at the mercy of Lucia.”

As he left, the guard brought two trays of food and several bottles of water. Leigh took them as she watched the doctor disappear with that grave look on his face. He treated them with care and mercy, but he was still part of her enemy’s organization.

Walker went searchingfor Anna because she had some ideas to run past her. It had been thirty minutes since they arrived from the airport. Walker longed for her room on the fourth floor where the SEALs had been housed in a former high school near the shabby US Embassy. The compound had a gate and high concrete walls with Marine guards outside. Inside were two security guards—one in a small room off the front double doors—a mess hall, a well-equipped gym, an armory, several conference rooms, a debriefing room, and even a swimming pool. All the amenities provided by the Colombian government. Her luggage had arrived the day before, loaded with disguises and accessories.

The only drawback was that her bathroom was not operational. She was told she had to share one with her partner in the adjoining room. That would be no problem. Walker and Strekoza had shared far rougher quarters.

She headed for the conference room where Anna would be setting up for the brief in about an hour. As she opened the door, she heard muffled sounds coming from the small office adjacent to the conference room. Anna was using that room. Walker pushed the door open and found Anna standing there, head down valiantly trying to hold back her distress. Pictures of Hazard and Leigh filled the computer screen.

“Oh, Anna,” Walker said softly. Anna whipped around, eyes wide with horror that someone had caught her in such a state. Walker didn’t hesitate. She walked over and hugged her friend tightly. Anna collapsed into the safety of her embrace and broke down into deep, convulsing sobs that wracked her entire body. Walker wrapped her arms around Anna, sharing her pain.

After a moment, Walker gently grasped Anna’s shoulders and pulled her away so that Anna could see her own tear-streaked face. “Damn, Anna,” Walker said in a gruff tone laced with regret. “None of us saw this coming. It is not your fault.”

Anna stared at her, fresh tears welling in her eyes. “It is my fault. I was in charge, and I missed something crucial. I do blame myself, and nothing you say will change that.” She squeezed her eyes shut, as if the memory was too much to bear.

“What the fuck!” Walker exclaimed, slamming her hands on her hips. “All of us were on that op. We all missed the fact that Nacho’s daughter was involved. She was flying under the radar. If anyone is to blame, it is me. I saw a photo of Jose, Astrid, and Nacho with a young girl, and I didn’t make the connection. I have to shoulder a lot of that blame, and I don’t like it.”

Anna blinked. “What photo?”

“The one from Astrid’s house. We were so focused on whether Jose was compromised that we didn’t follow up on the girl. It has to be Nacho’s daughter, Lucia.”

“Oh, dammit. That is the piece we missed,” Anna whispered, anguish clear in her gaze. She swiped at her tears and her expression hardened with anger. “I need to find that photo.” Relieved that Anna had recovered enough to speak, and Walker quickly shared an idea that Kai and Davis had sparked after their briefing.

Twenty minutes later, Walker pushed open the door to her assigned room, weary after the trip and the painful moments with Anna. They had a solid plan and a promising lead. It was small progress but progress nonetheless.

She sighed. She had flown on many vehicles, but the noisy, smelly, bare-bones tail section of a C-130 was nothing like the cushy CIA jets she was used to. Anyone who was not a Tier 1 asset rode in the back, no exceptions. Yet there was one bright spot about being on that C-130 with Anna and the team—even in those cheap seats, she was often rewarded with those smoldering looks from Cooper Sullivan. Throughout the trip, her eyes kept drifting toward him, and she was often met with that heavy, dark gaze as if he could not help himself.

A twinge in her neck from the cramped position and the vibration of massive engines pulled her from her reverie. She reached back to massage the sore muscles. She would call Juanita for a massage the minute she had the time. In the meantime, a long, hot shower would wash away the stench of jet fuel from her hair and nostrils.

Without knocking, she carried her makeup case and essentials into the next room. From the doorway, she noticed luggage piled on the bed. Her partner was nowhere to be seen. She recalled that her partner had mentioned getting some food, so she assumed she was in the mess hall. Her stomach growled at the thought of a proper meal, and if memory served her right, the SEALs were treated like kings when it came to food. Shower first, then food, she decided. She would wash away that C-130 stench.

She pushed open the bathroom door and set her case on the back of the toilet, then she turned and almost swallowed her tongue. There weren’t many people who could outwit, outmaneuver, or outdo Walker Adams or catch her off guard, but the man standing in front of her took the cake.

Cooper Sullivan.

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