Chapter 6
Archer was sitting in traffic when his phone rang. One glance told him who it was. “Captain Nguyen, always a pleasure,” he said easily. “Is this my opportunity to speak with Iona?”
A pause. Archer’s lips curved. Annoying Nguyen had become one of his favorite pastimes.
“No. I’ll give her a phone tonight so she can check in. This is a courtesy call.”
Letting the car inch forward, Archer asked, “What did you want me to know?”
“Ms. Desmond’s phone is on its way to you in a privacy box. She found it in the bags we brought from her hotel. Since she had it when she was grabbed, that means Fuentes accessed her room and added it to her things.”
“Interesting,” Archer said, frowning. “I don’t like that turn of events.”
“Neither did I or Ms. Desmond. Since the odds are it’s no longer secure, it’s safer to remove it from her vicinity.”
“Agreed. I’ll admit to some curiosity about what Fuentes is up to. One would think he’d know Iona wouldn’t trust the phone after it was in his possession.”
“One would think,” Nguyen said dryly.
Archer let the silence stretch almost until Nguyen’s breaking point. “Did Iona sweep the rest of her things? If the phone was added, a bug might have been as well.”
Nguyen’s jaw was undoubtedly clenched. “She examined everything and my team did a sweep. Nothing else was identified.”
“What about her photography gear?”
“Believe it or not, Archer, we thought of that. It’s clean.”
Archer’s lips curved. He hadn’t meant to provoke Nguyen with that question, but he enjoyed the result anyway. “I do need to speak with Iona. It’s important we discuss how to get her and her sister home safely. Logistics. You understand.”
“That’s the second reason I’m calling.”
Something in Nguyen’s voice had Archer bracing. It was the only reason he didn’t rear-end the car in front of him.
“We’re keeping both women for a little while. We’re protecting her sister while Ms. Desmond works with us to get to Torres. I’ll have a man with her.”
Archer didn’t respond. He couldn’t. The words hit like a blade slipped between ribs—quiet, precise, and entirely unacceptable. Keeping his employees safe was the number one item on his strategy board. Helping a Special Forces team go after Torres was far from safe.
Before he could form words, Nguyen said, “I’ll have Ms. Desmond call you this evening. Have a nice night, Archer.”
The line went dead.
Archer stared at the car in front of him, his expression unchanged. Nguyen believed he was mitigating risk by pairing Io with one of his men, keeping Ayla under guard. Archer understood the logic. He even respected the intent.
But Nguyen’s tolerance for danger was built in a different world. A world Archer had walked away from. A world where people were assets, and acceptable losses were part of the equation.
Not his equation.
Traffic crawled forward, but Archer’s mind was already moving past it, assembling contingencies with the same quiet precision he’d once used to dismantle foreign intelligence networks. Nguyen thought he was protecting Io. He wasn’t. He was using her.
And Archer didn’t lose people. Not anymore. He’d walked away from that version of himself years ago.
He eased the car into the next lane, already planning the counterplay—subtle, invisible, and effective. Nguyen could run his operation. Archer would run the board.
And he would get Iona and her sister out of Puerto Jardin alive.
No matter how many moves it took.
Dinner was small. Only the captain and four men. Io assumed the others were out on assignments.
She watched each of them, but paid particular attention to Ski. He’d be her partner if she didn’t agree to work with Cal. Saying he was intense was an understatement. The man nearly vibrated with it. He was good-looking in a dark, broody way, and had a scar on his left temple.
Cal was right. Ski’s intensity didn’t bother her.
He caught her watching him, and his eyebrows raised.
“That’s quite a scar,” Io said calmly.
It was Oz who answered. “The idiot didn’t tell the woman he rescued what he really was. She thought he was a mercenary and used a rock on that thick skull of his to escape. We still can’t figure out why she married him.”
“Good taste, Wiz. That’s why she married me.”
Io added that to the mental list she was building. The role she’d play was risky. Her partner would be equally at risk. Ski had a wife. Maybe children. She wasn’t going to ask. Could she put his life on the line and risk leaving a widow and orphans behind because she and Cal had issues?
She reached for her water bottle, mulling it over.
Ski would be ordered to work with her. Cal had volunteered. He’d come to the chapel to talk her into working together.
Io set down her water bottle. The conversation had moved on—Ski was giving Rusty shit about his hair gel, Oz and Ayla talked quietly, BD read something on his phone, and Cal watched her.
Waiting.
Not pushing. Not arguing. Just waiting.
Trying to read her, trying to gauge if she’d agree to work with him or not.
She made her decision. Ski was smart and capable, but he was married. Maybe a father. If the worst happened, his family would be destroyed because of her.
She couldn’t live with the guilt.
She couldn’t survive destroying someone else’s family.
The meal was over. Io spoke quietly. “BD? Do you have a moment to talk in private?”
From the corner of her eye, she saw Cal tense. She didn’t glance at him. Her attention stayed on the captain. He looked up, studied her, and said, “We’ll go to my office.”
She followed him upstairs and closed the door behind them. “Cal talked to me about the assignment. He said you left it up to me.”
BD nodded.
“I’ll work with him,” she said, the words heavier than she expected, but Cal had chosen the risk. Ski hadn’t.
“Are you certain? There’s been…friction.”
“I know. He said if he became a problem, I could have him replaced. I’ll give him the benefit of the doubt.”
Another nod. “I’ll assign him, then.”
“I have a question. Who would you have selected if Cal and I didn’t have a past?”
“Why?”
“I’m curious.”
BD gave her a harder look. After a moment, he said, “If you and Baggs weren’t married, had never met, he’s the one I would have assigned. Your next question is why, correct?”
“Of course.”
“Ski is every bit as skilled as Baggs, but he’s a lousy actor. One of the worst on the team. It’ll go easier if you have someone who can play the part convincingly.”
Io nodded. That validated her decision. “We can’t pretend not to have a relationship, not convincingly, so the role will have to be bodyguard who became a boyfriend. If the relationship seems new, it explains Cal’s overprotectiveness.”
BD leaned against a table, arms crossed.
“Let me explain how I work, Ms. Desmond. My operatives run their cover. You’re now one of my team.
I trust you to make the smart decisions necessary to achieve the objective.
You don’t need my okay. If you think Baggs should play a bodyguard who’s also your lover, that’s your call. Understood?”
“Understood,” she said, trying to sound like a soldier instead of a Paladin League agent. “And BD? I appreciate your trust.” More than she could say, and more than she expected to feel.
BD pushed off the table. “Not a problem. Baggs is yours. Build the cover you need.”
Io inclined her head and the captain stepped into the hallway. The mission had just shifted, the stakes with it. She wasn’t only protecting Ayla now.
She was protecting the man who would die for her.
And she could not let that happen.
Cal knew Io was telling BD who she wanted to work with. Knew, and it took all his control not to pace. Not to storm upstairs and demand she pick him. Not to repeat the mistake that had nearly gotten him a reprimand.
The way she’d been assessing Ski over dinner didn’t bode well.
He hated waiting. Hated not knowing what was happening. What if Io chose Ski? Cal wouldn’t be there to keep her safe. He’d been close once and still lost the person he was supposed to protect.
From the top of the stairs, the captain called, “Ski, Baggs. Briefing room. Now.”
Cal was on his feet before BD finished speaking. Being the first wouldn’t help, but it couldn’t hurt.
The briefing room was next to BD’s office. Three dingy white walls, one red, a faded Virgin Mary over a filing cabinet, and three desks. Another classroom.
Io wasn’t seated. She stood at the front beside the captain.
“Close the door, Ski,” BD ordered. “Take a seat, gentlemen.”
Cal and Ski sat at the first table. He didn’t look at Io. Not yet. He didn’t want to see pity. Or worse—indifference. Sorry, hubby, I’m working with your teammate. He wasn’t ready for that.
“Baggs, you’ll be partnered with Ms. Desmond. The objective is to gain access to Jorge Torres using the treasure as bait.”
Relief punched through him, sharp enough to steal his breath. He almost missed the next part.
“Ski, you’re included because if Baggs is unable to fulfill his duties, you’ll take his place.”
What BD meant was if Io decided Cal was a liability, Ski would step in. Ignoring the punch of panic over how tenuous his assignment actually was, Cal joked, not wanting to admit how much he wanted to be the one she chose. “Hey, congrats, Ski. You’re first runner-up.”
“At least I’m not Miss Congeniality.”
“I’m pretty sure Rusty locked that up.”
“Gentlemen,” BD warned, though his lips twitched. “Io?” He stepped aside, ceding the floor.
Cal nearly gaped. Io was leading the briefing?
“Thanks, BD. Both of you might know some of this, but I want us on the same page. It’s common knowledge in Trujillo that I work for the Paladin League.
Since the assumption is that I’m here for the Lost Treasure, we’re going to fan that fire.
I’m a Paladin League employee gone bad, out to claim the treasure for myself. ”
Io looked good leading the briefing. But a briefing was one thing. Putting herself in the line of fire was another.
“Cal, you’re the mercenary I hired to be my bodyguard. I’ve been kidnapped once, and with so many factions interested in the treasure, it’s logical I’d want protection.”
He nodded. Ski did too.
“Because we have a relationship, it would be easy to slip. So you’re a bodyguard who’s also my lover. We can play it as you romancing me to get the treasure or genuinely interested. We’ll adjust as necessary. If Cal needs to be replaced, we’ll claim a bad romance and Ski steps in.”
Cal kept his expression neutral, but the knot in his chest tightened. Io was thorough—he admired that. But hearing her contingency plan laid out so cleanly hit harder than expected. She wasn’t wrong. But it still felt like she’d already written him out of the equation.
BD took over. “Reaching Torres directly is impossible. The man rarely leaves his compound. Getting inside is invitation only unless the military invades.”
“It’s not like you can walk up to one of his men and say, tell your boss I know where the treasure is,” Ski said. “How are you going to entice Torres?”
Io answered. “There’s a mole at the Paladin League. He or she works for someone in Puerto Jardin. Since all the players keep eyes on each other, it’s only a matter of time until Torres gets whatever intel the mole passes along.”
“What is the mole passing along?” Cal asked.
Io turned to BD. “What did you and Archer decide?”
BD hesitated. “I haven’t asked Archer to work with us yet.”
Io froze, and Cal watched her breath hitch. That tiny tell hit him harder than it should have.
“We can’t do this without Archer,” she said. “Paladin League employees are loyal. If my boss doesn’t impugn my reputation, we’re fighting uphill.”
“I’m aware,” BD said.
“I thought you called him about my phone?”
“I did. That was tactical. This request is political.”
Io narrowed her eyes. “So why haven’t you briefed him?”
“Your boss and I have had issues. If I ask, he’ll say no. If you ask—if you lay out the stakes—he’ll listen. It’s the only strategy that gets us what we need.”
Io crossed her arms. “That makes sense. Let’s call him.”
BD nodded. “We’ll go to my office. If he says yes, we move. If he says no, we pivot.”
Cal watched Io turn toward the door, spine straight, pace measured.
She wasn’t just walking out to make a call. She was walking into the fire, ready to spray gasoline with a hose. And she wondered why he wanted her doing something safe. Cal grimaced as he and Ski were left to wait.
All he could do now was hope Archer said no dice. Because if he agreed, Io was walking straight toward danger, and Cal would have to pretend he was fine with it.
Pretend he hadn’t already lost too much.
He’d been nearby once and still lost the person he was supposed to protect. He wasn’t letting that happen again. Not with Io.