Buck

Chapter 12

Kat wearily rubbedat her eyes. Between this mission and that hammock, she was as sleep-deprived as a new mother. She popped another antacid to combat the nausea that seemed to have dogged her since she’d gotten to Costa Rica. When she came into the ready room, the overpowering smell of eggs made her gag. She walked briskly to the window and opened it, breathing in the heavy humid air. This country was getting to her in some way. She’d never been averse to eggs before.

“Could we eat breakfast up at the house on the patio and not in here?” she said to the people who were working. The egg offender quickly consumed the rest of his egg sandwich with a sheepish nod.

“Sorry, ma’am.”

She sat down at the table. “Any word from the FBI Legal Attaché?”

“Nada, so far,” an analyst said, looking up from her screen.

As soon as Buck, D-Day, and Maritza Navarro had found the partially decomposed body of a man at the base of a hillside not far from their newly planted coffee plants, Kat had been on the phone to the US State Department’s Bureau of International Narcotics and Law Enforcement Affairs. Her next call had been to the legal attaché at the Panamanian Embassy, the head of the nearest FBI International Office to urgently request the FBI’s Evidence Response Team. If Kat was a betting woman, the man they found on Navarro property was tied in with drug trafficking since half of all homicides in the country were linked with the illegal narcotics trade.

And something was rotten and rotting on the Good Earth Plantation. She wanted to make sure whoever was responsible was brought to justice, and if they discovered that the Navarro family was complicit in any way, their assets would be seized, their plantation sold off, and guilty individuals would go to prison. Kat was bringing in the big guns.

ERT was extremely skilled and professional, trained to be the best in the world. The world. Kat wanted those people on this case, and with the fate of Nacho, The Good Earth Plantation, and the Navarros’ on the line she wanted to get it right.

She popped another antacid and rubbed her temple. “Are you growing yourself an ulcer?” Joker asked as he came to the table and pulled out a chair. Thankfully, all he had for food was a cup of coffee, and that didn’t bother her at all.

“It would seem so. I’ll go see a doctor when I get home.”

“Right, Kat. After this mission.”

“Why do you sound so skeptical?”

“They pulled you out of administration and back into the field because you’re so damn good at what you do, but maybe enough is enough.”

“What is that supposed to mean?”

“You are so tenacious…like a SEAL. That’s why you and Wicked are still together, still married. You get us because you’re one of us through and through.”

She grinned. “A SEAL babe?”

He chuckled. “Yeah, in the truest sense of the meaning.”

He shifted in his seat, wincing a little. She frowned. “You still in pain?”

“Not anything I can’t handle. It will go away eventually.”

“Yeah, thanks for that rundown, pot calling the kettle black.”

He took a breath and leaned forward. “It’s a fact that they’re going to rotate me out of combat. I can’t change that if I want to proceed in my career.”

“And you want to?”

He smiled and nodded. “I have a hefty family legacy riding on my shoulders. My dad is an admiral, we have family members, medals, ships named after my family, and untold decades of service and history all tied up with the name and DNA of Jackman. I reconciled with my dad on my deployment to Niamey. He knows I want to be my own man and he accepts it. I have a limited number of missions with this team, and it will tear my guts out to give it up. All of them are good sailors and exceptional SEALs. But I’m proud of where I come from and proud of where I’m going. I know I want my wife, children, love, duty, and honor in my future. What do you want, Kat?”

His cell rang, and he rose and took the call.

Kat’s stomach cramped, and she closed her eyes, thinking immediately that Joker made some valid points. She had gone from administration back to the field and there were times when she and Wicked just couldn’t mesh their time to be together. She missed him deep in her bones. Maybe it was time for a change?

Her cell rang, and she grabbed it off the table. “Cross.”

“Ma’am, this is Dr. Ellsbeth Montgomery calling regarding your case. I have some information.”

“Go ahead.”

“The man you found on the Good Earth Plantation has been ID’d as Juan Barrantes. He was employed by the Navarros as their shipping manager for sixteen years and lived alone.” She rattled off an address. “He was bound, gagged, and tortured, specifically water-boarding, suspension by his wrists, evidence of tearing in both wrist, shoulder, and back muscles, beatings on his face and torso, resulting in numerous cuts and contusions, broken ribs, jaw in two places, nose, and eye socket. His cause of death was a bullet to the back of the head.” All the information was delivered in a clinical tone. Kat didn’t have to imagine what Juan had gone through. She knew it all firsthand.

“Do you have any hits on the bullet?”

“No, it’s still being analyzed, but I thought you might want his identity to get you started.”

“Yes, that’s a good place to start. Time of death?”

“He was murdered approximately three days ago between nine and nine-thirty p.m., but not where you found him. He was executed somewhere else and transported to the crime scene. If Maritza Navarro hadn’t found him, he would have decomposed rapidly between the hot, moist environment, predation, internal microbe decomposition, and insects. In fact, body parts were missing, and after an exhaustive search we discovered a femur that had been gnawed. He was scavenged immediately, and the discovery of the remains gave us vital information that would have been lost over time, scattered and nearly skeletonized.” Kat didn’t want to be suspicious of the family, but the facts were stark and irrefutable. Mr. Barrantes had worked for them, he’d been murdered and dumped on the property. “I’ll be in touch with information as it surfaces. Call me if you have any questions. The local police have been very cooperative and helpful.”

“Thank you, Doctor.”

“What’s up?” Joker asked after taking one look at her face.

“We have an identity. Let’s get the guys in for a brief.”

Once everyone had been assembled, Kat started off the discussion with the pertinent facts. She laid everything out. “This is looking bad for the Navarros. Do any of you have anything to add?”

Buck’s deep voice broke the silence. “Yesterday, when Mari told her brother about the tour, he got squirrely, ordered us not to go near his greenhouses and to stay away from his new plantings. I could tell by her face that it wasnt characteristic of her brother’s personality. She was thrown and confused about his behavior.” He leaned forward, his face expressionless, but Kat had the feeling he was churning internally. “When I questioned Mari about who oversaw their shipping, she told me it was Juan, but he had disappeared a month ago. She’s under the impression that he just up and left with no word.”

“After sixteen years of service. That seems unlikely.”

“And it was during the height of their harvest.” The natural question to follow up that answer was on Kat’s tongue, but Buck already supplied the person she was going to ask about. “Diego took over the shipping.” Buck released a sigh. “He protested, but his dad insisted. She said he’s done a great job.” Kat was deep in thought when Buck asked, “Do you want us to pick him up?”

“No, not just yet. You go and talk to him, keep it casual and friendly as the guy who’s interested in his sister. See what you can find out.”

* * *

After leaving Mari this morning,he hadn’t seen her, and wanted to avoid her for the time being. Mostly because it would be easier to talk to Diego without her present, and secondly, he’d given himself a lot to think about. His guts twisted, thinking about avoiding her, knowing that she must still be feeling shaky about what had happened yesterday. He ached to comfort her, but the duties of his job had to come first. She would understand that. He was sure of it.

She’d wanted him last night, wanted him to make love to her again, but it was a convenient excuse that she had been through enough for one day. He meant what he said. He wasn’t going to be intimate with her again until this mission was resolved, or she knew about his undercover assignment.

The truth was he was here to protect the family, but that would become null and void if any of them were mixed up with Barrantes’s abduction, torture, and murder. What had been done to Barrantes was a calling card for the cartels, but what they needed to narrow down was the gang who was assisting which cartel—Mexican or Colombian? There were three players in the area and more joining the fray everyday, which accounted for the uptick in violence in recent years.

His first guess would be the Siachoque Cartel. He had a feeling that Nacho was here, sheltered by his gang partner. It felt like Nacho’s grubby drug-trafficking fingers were all over the place.

He crossed the main plantation compound, heading toward the three greenhouses in the back, set behind the house and the production and shipping buildings. As he approached, workers were busy setting maturing coffee plants into a cart while less mature seedlings were being transferred from the second greenhouse to the first.They were small, with shiny, evergreen leaves. There were quite a few of them in the cart. Looked like another major expansion which made total sense if they were going to be opening up the Golden Grain coffee shops all up and down the West Coast.

He stopped one of the bustling workers, and he indicated that Diego was in the farthest greenhouse.

Buck headed over to the glassed-in structure and opened the door. It was hot inside, the sun streaming through the glass above. The place was full of growing seedlings. Diego was moving down one of the beds making notes on a tablet, deep in thought.

“Diego,” Buck called out, and his head snapped up, and he turned to look at Buck. His whole body tensed.

“Hey, how’s it going?” he said, coming over and shaking Buck’s hand. He looked tired, but he did have a full workload with a wife and two children.

“Pretty good. We didn’t get a chance to tour the greenhouses yesterday after all the commotion.”

“Oh, where’s my sister?”

“Somewhere around. She’s busy.” He took in the greenhouse. “This looks like moving day.”

Diego’s features relaxed a bit, and he surveyed the area. “Yeah, I’ve got a full field ready for planting. These seedlings are going to move to the middle greenhouse and those are already being moved to the last greenhouse.”

“I saw the cart filled with trees. It’s pretty cool.”

“It’s an amazing plant. The Arabica bean is the most popular and produces great tasting coffee.”

“I’ve had the pleasure of drinking some damn fine coffee in your kitchen.”

He flashed a grin, then looked down at his tablet.

“How long does the plant take to produce fruit?”

“Oh, about three to five years and are productive for about fifteen to twenty years.”

“What’s the yield?”

“Approximately four hundred and fifty pounds per year.” Diego tried to move around him, but Buck blocked his path. Diego frowned and said, “Are you really interested in all of this or are you here for another reason?”

“I’m here to learn so I can impress your sister,” Buck said with a smile. “And find out what her favorite flower is.”

Diego looked at him with open skepticism. “My sisters are better equipped to answer those kinds of questions.”

“Shoot, I couldn’t find them. Can’t you help a guy out?”

Diego shifted looking suddenly uncomfortable. “She loves most flowers…gardenias, I think are her favorite. It’s a white flower. Anna knows.”

“So, you’re in the middle of harvest?”

His jaw remained tense, his shoulders hunched. Diego was nervous, something most people couldn’t fake. It was etched across every inch of his face. Question was, exactly what was he worried about? It could be many things, including the shock of discovering a longtime, valued employee had been murdered. “We’re actually getting to the tail end.”

“It must be crazy to have to juggle your job here and oversee shipping.”

“Yeah, it’s busy, but only temporary until we find another shipping manager. If that guy out there is Juan?—”

“It’s Juan.” He gave Diego that information so he could see his reaction.

The blood drained from Diego’s face. “No. I was hoping it wasn’t him. What happened to him?”

“We believe he was abducted, tortured, and murdered about three days ago.” Buck said watching him.”

“Damn,” Diego swallowed hard. “On our land?”

“Looks like it.” Buck schooled his features into a solemn expression. “You know what it’s like in a terrible situation to think about where you were when it happened? Where were you, Diego?”

Diego dropped his tablet, then crouched down to pick it up. “I-I was in the field I think,” he stammered.

“Was Juan involved in shady things?”

His head snapped up, and he rose in a rush. Diego seemed genuinely surprised at the question, then overly fierce when he responded, “Juan? No. He was the most honest, hardworking guy we had on the place. My grandfather hired him. He’s been with us for sixteen years.”

“That’s tough. I’m sorry about your loss.”

“Thank you.”

“Maybe I can see the shipping area when you have time. You can show me how that works.” He’d said it lightly, but he noticed a telltale pause in Diego’s motions.

“That’s so boring.” Diego wasn’t looking at him now, focusing instead on his tablet.

“Don’t you manage that now? I thought it would be interesting.”

He recovered a bit, but he noticed his casual response seemed a bit forced. He didn’t look up from the tablet, his tone dismissive. “It’s really busy, so I’m not sure when.”

“I could probably get Mari to show me, since you’re busy.” Buck pushed, wishing like hell his instincts were quieting with this conversation. Unfortunately, they weren’t. It’s not like he wanted Diego to be involved in anything that would jeopardize everything they had built, but none of this had a good feeling to it.

He didn’t make eye contact and said, “Look, I’ve got to get back to work. These plants won’t move themselves.” He straightened and brushed past Buck to get to the other side of the aisle, away from him.

Buck left the greenhouse and went back to the ready room.

The guys looked up when he entered. “Were you able to talk to Diego?” Kat asked.

“Yes, and I feel he was evasive, nervous about the shipping job. I think he’s hiding something.” He got a dropping sensation in his gut, suspecting that Diego could be the leak.

“D-Day,” Joker said. “Get out there and follow Diego. Report where he goes.”

D-Day shot Buck a sympathetic look before grabbing his computer and exiting the room.

“Now it’s a waiting game. We’ll see what D-Day has to say.”

* * *

D-Day blendedin with the other workers, transferring seedlings to the cart. He was wearing typical clothes and a hat pulled low over his eyes. About ten minutes after D-Day arrived, he saw Diego leave the greenhouse. As soon as he rounded the end of the structure, D-Day started after him. He gave a quick peek around the corner and saw Diego climb into a golf cart, then tool off.

After waiting a safe time, he walked to the area and grabbed another golf cart, starting after Diego. He kept to the side of the path for as long as the jungle allowed. Once it got too dense, about fifteen minutes in, Diego ditched the cart. D-Day followed on foot, keeping to the shadows. Diego was jumpy as hell. He started at a bird call, nervously looking over his shoulder.

Finally, they came to a small warehouse in the jungle, and to D-Day’s eye, it looked like it was new construction. Diego slipped inside. D-Day went to the building, but he couldn’t see inside. The windows were covered. But the glass was cool to the touch. In the back, he found a state-of-the-art generator purring along.

D-Day keyed his comm and relayed the information to Joker, but there was no response. He must be too far out. Noting the location, he went back to the ready room.

At his report, Joker’s mouth tightened. “Get jocked up. We’re going to raid the warehouse.”

* * *

Mari was just finishingup a batch of roasted coffee, feeling out of sorts and disappointed. Buck had left early this morning, and she couldn’t fault him for it. He had a job to do, and he’d spent considerable time with her yesterday.

She shivered at the memory of the man’s face, and it was going through the plantation that the body was Juan Barrantes. Mari was saddened by the news as the man was like an uncle to her.

Juan hadn’t ever married or had children, just worked his butt off for sixteen years for their family. It drove home to her that she didn’t want to be like that and end up alone with her life cut short.

She sighed. What life? She didn’t really have one, and Buck was showing her how wonderful it was to get out in the world and enjoy herself. Before the grisly discovery, she had been having such a good time. Her thoughts had drifted to seducing him right there in the new field in the grass and sunshine.

Diego busted into the roasting shed without knocking, his tone brisk. “Mari. I need you to come with me. I want to show you something.”

“You scared the hell out of me, Diego, she said, her hand to her hammering heart. What?” she asked, shutting down the roaster and turning back to him.

“I’d rather show you.” He swallowed hard, his Adams apple bobbing, a sheen of sweat coated him. He darted wary looks out the window. “It’s really important. I could be in some trouble.”

She pulled out the chaff tray. “Trouble? What kind of trouble?” She dumped it in the basket, then wiped it clean.

“Mari, just come with me, and it’ll be clear,” he said in exasperation. He grabbed her hand and drew her out of the roasting shed. He had a golf cart parked nearby, and he slipped into the driver’s seat. “Come on. Get in.”

Since Diego wasn’t interested in talking, Mari’s thoughts went back to Buck and her life. There was another nagging thought that kept surfacing. She noticed while she had been on this trip how she easily read the room, then adjusted herself to fit into the vibe, adapting to different people and situations. When she was in the US, she was the marketing executive, the face of the company, and she had to look the part, but now she wondered if she was confusing that persona with who she really was, deep down. That woman who simply enjoyed roasting beans for a really good cup of coffee.

She let her father dictate to her what was successful and what wasn’t as if she was keeping track and she determined what to do and how to do it by measuring how well it was working for him.

She bit her lip. Had she built an identity around her ability to be successful in everything she did, and redefined herself in light of that success? Her idea of success was all about her work, so closely connected to family, she wasn’t sure where she started and they left off. Had she been structuring her goals to fit her father’s needs and standards?

Then there was the big one. She focused primarily on getting things done, which made it hard for her to slow down and stop performing, never leaving time for herself. She did have a little panic attack this morning when she realized how much time she’d lost yesterday hanging out with Buck. Did she equate who she was with what she did?

Then there were the emotions that were overwhelming her, especially now that she was wondering exactly who she was here, wondering if she would be loved for herself, not what she accomplished. She thought maybe in her father’s eyes, but not in Buck’s. He cared about her for who she was with him, and she had to admit, it wasn’t any act on her part.

Emotions flooded her, making her realize that she was an intrinsically emotional person, but she had suppressed them unconsciously to be who she thought her dad wanted her to be.

Reconnecting with her emotions through Buck was making her realize how much she had disconnected. She was beginning to believe that she made herself into the image and person her father needed and wanted her to be…no, molded her to be. She was terrified of failure, afraid it would define her, make her less worthy and all of that had robbed her of experiencing more peace and understanding more of who she really was.

How could she participate in a relationship with Buck when she didn’t know who she was, worked so hard, didnt leave time to explore it, and let fear be a barrier to discovery? How could she give Buck everything when she had no idea what everything was?

Had she been nothing but an empty shell, shapeshifting to get the approval of her father and family?

She felt shaky by the time Diego parked the cart and started through the jungle. “Why are we in the middle of nowhere, Diego?”

He didn’t answer, just kept moving. She followed after him, trembling with her revelations, realizing that she had so much soul-searching to do. She was falling for Buck in a hard way, and the thought of not seeing him…it was torture.

She came out of the trees and saw a warehouse in a small clearing. She looked around. This was completely odd. It wasn’t near the fields, couldn’t be part of storing coffee, it was just too far out. What the hell was Diego up to?

She went to the door and pushed it open. The place was filled with tools and workbenches, metal, and mechanical stuff all over the area. “What is this place? Why are we here?” Mari felt as if there was a lead weight suddenly sitting on her shoulders.

Diego turned to her and opened his mouth. Suddenly the door burst open and armed men came through shouting loudly for them to get down on the ground, their assault rifles trained on them. She immediately knelt down with her hands in the air, closing her eyes and taking deep calming breaths.

Her eyes popped open when her wrists were ruthlessly drawn behind her back and flex-cuffed. She was jerked to her feet, and she turned when a man took her arm.

Shock coursed through her. It was Buck. He didn’t say anything, and she was speechless as he quickly, and efficiently patted her down. A horrible feeling worked through her, and she finally found her voice. “What is going on?” she demanded.

“Your brother was acting suspiciously, and evasively. Maybe he should explain?” Buck said, a grim set to his profile, his jaw hard. He might be doing his job, but he wasn’t happy about it.

She turned her attention to her brother and said, “What are they talking about, Diego?”

“It’s a prototype, Mari,” he said, like that explained everything.

“What?”

He turned to look at the man behind him. It was D-Day. The rest of the team surrounded them looking dead serious and very scary. Diego nudged with his chin toward a cloth-draped object. “It’s there.”

D-Day walked over and pulled off the cloth. Underneath was a piece of machinery gleaming under the lights.

“A drum roaster?”

“It’s a new concept for more even airflow. I’ve been working on it for a long time.”

Buck let out a heavy sigh. “Talk about a clusterfuck.”