Chapter 8
Dane whipped around and went for the man’s throat, but he was stopped. Barely. Shana ran interference at the man’s other side.
“Hey—I’m on your side. Take it easy,” the man said.
“You’re not on anyone’s side but your own, Floyd. Not even the CIA’s.”
Dane lowered his hands and eyed Shana. Floyd Parker stood front and center, live and in the flesh Dane wanted to punch him senseless.
Floyd studied Dane, and then Shana, giving Dane the feeling he was in a Mexican standoff. Not the best feeling. Then Floyd smiled.
“How the hell are you? Dane? Shana? Never thought I’d see you two here together.”
“Bullshit,” Dane said.
“Thanks for answering the Trouble call.” Floyd grinned. “Let’s get off the street.” The paunchy fifty-year old man turned and walked three feet to a narrow doorway. Dane looked at Shana.
“We’re here. This is what we signed up for,” she said.
If she’d been trying to give him a pep talk she shouldn’t have used that resigned tone of voice. Since none of his other options at that second held any appeal, Dane followed Shana through the door.
“What is this place?” Dane asked. It wasn’t one of the safe houses that he was aware of in the area. And he made it his business to be aware.
“A crash pad. Don’t worry. We won’t be staying. Better than standing in the street waiting for a Tavares soldier to pick you up.”
“What do you know about the Tavares organization? Who said they were after us?” Dane asked.
Floyd Parker laughed as he splashed some clear liquid from a flask into two short wide glasses and then handed the glasses to him and Shana. Dane smelled the alcohol. Tequila.
“You’re not joining us?” Shana eyed him, holding the glass. Dane didn’t bother taking a sip, though his throat burned for something strong. His soul burned for something stronger.
“I’ll drink from the flask.” Floyd demonstrated by tossing it back down his throat spilling a generous amount down the side of his face.
Shana put her glass down untouched.
Dane slugged down his measure and held himself back from downing Shana’s drink too.
“Let’s get on with this. You seem to know something about the Tavares people. Where do we go from here?”
“Downtown Rio. The Ipanema beach area.”
Dane didn’t tell him that he had Acer on standby ready to pick up him and Shana as soon as he determined a route and meeting place. Shana looked at him sharply.
“What about Oscar?” she asked.
“We’ll go downtown—we have a CIA safe house there. We’ll plan a rescue operation. If we can. If you haven’t contaminated the operation by showing up out of the blue—”
“Out of the blue?” Dane moved on Floyd, grabbing him by the lapels. A glance in Shana’s direction told him she wouldn’t try stopping his aggressive show.
“We were kidnapped and you set us up.” Dane held him and Floyd, though smaller, and heavy with blubber and smelling of sweat and whatever bad tequila was in that flask, was not perturbed. Not in the least.
“That was an unfortunate turn of events.”
“You knew? Let me guess—you watched.”
“I was in the vicinity. Now put me down and get a grip on your cool. You’re going to need it.”
“The only thing I need is a good meal and a ride to Rio—and not from you.”
Floyd squinted at him and then he turned to Shana. He said to her, “Reason with this hothead, will you?”
“I don’t trust you either, Floyd. I spent the night in a dungeon chained to the floor because of you—”
“That’s fair, but I’m a false caterpillar by trade.” Floyd spread his hands. Maybe this was an attempt at showing his charming side.
“Channeling Shakespeare isn’t going to impress me,” Dane said. He raised his left hand with the bruised and still swollen thumb. “We had a hell of a time getting out of there and you were conspicuously absent.”
“I came to the rescue as soon as I could and I truly had no idea you were getting lifted.” He turned to Shana. “I had no idea you were partners with this maniac. Frankly, I thought you had better sense, Shana.”
She laughed. Not the reaction Dane had anticipated. He would have hoped for a defense. But he reminded himself they were playing a game with Floyd. Dane’s part was to remain skeptical but engaged. Shana could play the naive gullible partner.
“We’re leaving. Don’t follow us.” Dane didn’t expect Floyd to pay attention to his order, but he was warned and put on notice that Dane would be watching.
“I have a safe house for you until we hear from Oscar’s… detainers—”
“I ain’t going nowhere with the false caterpillar.”
Floyd laughed and folded his arms, contemplating Dane like a patient dojo master measuring whether this would be the fight to pick.
“Have it your way.”
“Do you have any money for us?” Shana asked. Good test. He could kiss her. But then the desire to kiss Shana was a perpetual state of mind for Dane.
He needed to ditch Floyd and meet up with Acer. He didn’t want Floyd involved in the plans with the posse, which had surely gathered by now in country.
They needed to find a way to call Acer.
Dane knew a safe house outside of Rio from past experience—not with the CIA. He and Shana would go there, but not until they played their little dance with Floyd.
Floyd eyed Shana, and smiled the same kind of enamored smile Dane witnessed more times than he cared to remember. Every time Shana encountered a man with an ounce of testosterone. Floyd stuck one of his stubby hands into his pocket and came through with a wad of cash.
Dane thought Floyd would peel a few bills off, but he handed the entire wad to Shana.
U.S. dollars. Something like pride swelled for his girl.
Quickly followed by a sharp pain of realization that she was far, far from his.
Followed by the burn of determination in his soul to make Shana his in every way, to brand her as his in whatever way he could.
“Go ahead. I don’t know where you think you’re going or how you’re going to get there, but call me when you do.
We need to deal with Oscar’s detainees, and I’m their contact so you need to deal with me.
” Floyd stepped back to the door in the cramped front room of the crash pad and opened the door for them as if it were his idea that they should leave.
“I don’t remember you being a gracious man, Floyd. Seems you’ve overplayed the false caterpillar act to new depths of deceit.” Dane walked past the man and felt Shana behind him.
“We’ll be in touch,” Shana said.
They walked back outside to the narrow street.
“Where do we go now? Tavares’s people are still looking for us.”
“Don’t worry. Floyd’s called them off by now. They’ll follow us—or try to—but they’ll leave us alone until we lead them to the others. He’ll back off until he gets all of us under control.”
“You’re that sure he’s one of them?”
“He’s not one of them. But he’s not one of us either. That’s for damn sure. He’s one of a kind.”
Shana nodded. Dane engaged his watch-communicator, hoping Acer was back in the area.
Acer met them within two minutes of their call and they were on their way to downtown Rio to Hotel Granada in the city center, where Acer told them David Young and Chief O’Keefe had set up.
From the car, Dane called the governor to ask about any back-end info from the CIA. Peter told him the official word was still that Floyd was legit and they hadn’t heard from Oscar.
“Work with your team in Rio. I sent David, and O’Keefe.”
“We may need to get out in a hurry. We’re being hunted.”
“Acer will have an extraction copter and should be set to leave on a dime. Any closer to finding Oscar?” Peter hesitated a beat—not long enough for an answer—and added, “If you’re being hunted, you might need to consider letting the others find him and leave—”
“I’m not going to leave without Oscar. If he’s here.”
There was another longer beat of silence before the governor spoke again.
“Explain.”
“I don’t have anything—except a deep distrust for Floyd Parker. But it doesn’t add up. There’s been no contact with the so-called kidnappers. Only with Floyd.”
“Keep me posted on that. I’ll look deeper from my end.”
“Don’t ruffle the nest with the CIA.”
Peter laughed. Dane knew better than to give orders to the general.
“Don’t worry, Dane. I have friends in Interpol who know how to be discreet.”
“That’s why you’re the general. I’ll be in touch.”
When Dane ended the call, he found that they were in heavy traffic in downtown Rio now. Shana scrutinized him. Acer drove. The engine hummed in the heavy silence for a beat before Acer spoke without taking his eyes from the road.
“What’s this about if Oscar’s here?”
“A suspicion. But I’m going to look into it. Can I make a regular call on this phone or—”
Acer shifted in his seat, pulled a cell phone from his pocket and handed it to Dane. Dane smiled.
“Are you a magician on your off-time?” Shana said.
“I’m a boy scout,” Acer said. “I’m always prepared. It’s a burner. Limited use.”
“I knew there was a reason I liked you.” Dane fired up the phone.
“Don’t waste any calls.”
“I’m calling Dr. Randy Smith with the Doctors Without Borders down in Haiti. He’s a friend of Oscar’s—his emergency contact.” The phone rang three times and went to an anonymous voice mail where Dane left his signature emergency message: Surf’s Up.
*****
Acer dropped Dane and Shana off in front of the hotel and took off.
They had no luggage and so didn’t look suspicious walking directly to the elevator and then to the room where David and O’Keefe waited.
Dane took a deep breath before knocking on the door.
He pulled Shana to his side. His friends might be angry with him, but he’d accomplished a very important part of his goal. He’d rescued his girl.
David answered the door. He gave Dane a nod, but didn’t step aside. Then he smiled at Shana.
“You’re a sight for sore eyes.”
Shana stepped forward and they hugged. “It’s good to see you too.” Shana walked into the room and instantly brightened what Dane had sensed to be a somber mood. She said, “Dane the legend strikes again. Got me out of a dungeon.”