LITMIR.BIZ

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How about my equipment?”

      “Apollo got it from Dutch,” Laremos said, his voice low and intent. “An Uzi and a new AKM.”

      J.D. nodded while Gabby tried to decide what in the world they were talking about. “We’ll need some RPGs.”

      “We have two,” Laremos said. “And eight blocks of C-4, rockets for the RPGs, assorted paraphernalia, jungle gear, and plenty of ammo. The border is a hotbed for drug and human traffickers these days—you can get anything if you have the money and the contacts.”

      J.D. smiled faintly. “Dutch said First Shirt has both. You made a smart move when you put him in charge of your ranch security.”

      “Sí,” Laremos agreed. “It is why I survive and many of my neighbors have not. The finca above mine was burned to the ground a month ago, and its owner…” He glanced at Gabby. “Forgive me, señorita. Such talk is not for the ears of women.”

      “I don’t even understand it,” she said, studying both men. “What is an RP…whatever it was? And what do you mean, rockets?”

      “I’ll tell you all about it later,” J.D. promised. “Got the plane?” he asked Laremos.

      The other man nodded. “We will have to go through customs. I assume you have nothing on you that it would be embarrassing to declare when we land, otherwise you would not have made it through Mexican customs.”

      J.D. chuckled. “Even with you along, I doubt they’d look the other way if I boarded with an Uzi slung around my neck and clips of ammunition hanging out of my pockets.”

      Laremos laughed too. “Doubtless they would not. Come. We are gassed up and ready to go.”

      “Uzi?” Gabby queried as they followed him.

      J.D. pulled her against him briefly. “An Uzi is an Israeli-made weapon. It’s classified as a submachine gun.”

      “Did you use one in the Special Forces?”

      He laughed softly. “No.”

      “Then how do you…and why…and what…?”

      He bent suddenly and pressed a hard, warm kiss on her startled mouth. “Shut up, Gabby, before you get us into trouble.”

      As if she could talk at all, after that. Her lips felt as though they’d been branded. If only they’d been alone, and it could have been longer…

      Laremos had a twin-engine plane and a pilot to fly it. He settled into one of the comfortable seats in front of Gabby and J.D., and another man, small and young, brought them cups of coffee as the plane headed toward Guatemala City.

      “I have told the appropriate people that you and your friend here are visiting me,” Laremos said to J.D. and laughed. “It will put you under immediate suspicion I fear, because my past is no secret. But it will spare you the illegality of having to smuggle yourself across the border. I have friends high in government who will help. Oddly enough, the terrorists who have your sister attempted to kidnap me only weeks ago. First Shirt was nearby and armed.”

      “First Shirt doesn’t miss,” J.D. recalled.

      “Neither did you, my friend, in the old days.” Laremos studied the older man unsmilingly.

      “How many men are there in the terrorist group?” J.D. asked. “Hard core, Laremos, not the hangers-on who’ll cut and run at the first volley.”

      “About twelve,” came the reply. “Maybe twenty more who will, as you say, cut and run. But the twelve are veteran fighters. Very tough, with political ties in a neighboring country. They are just part of an international network, with members in Italy who saw a chance to make some fast money to finance their cause. Your brother-in-law is an important man, and a wealthy one. And the decision to bring your sister here was most certainly devised by one of those twelve. They took over the finca only a month ago. I have little doubt that the kidnapping has been planned for some time.” He shrugged. “Also, it is known that the Italian authorities have been successful in dealing with this sort of kidnapping. There is less risk here, so they smuggled her out of Italy.”

      “Roberto is trying to borrow enough to bargain with,” J.D. said. “He’s determined not to go to the authorities.”

      “He does not know about you, does he?” Laremos asked quietly.

      J.D. shook his head. “I covered my tracks very well.”

      “You miss it, the old life?”

      J.D. sighed. “At times. Not often anymore.” He glanced at Gabby absently. “I have other interests now. I was getting too old for it. Too tired.”

      “For the same reasons, I became an honest man.” Laremos laughed. “It is by far the better way.” He stretched lazily. “But sometimes I think back and wonder how it would have been. We made good amigos, Archer.”

      “A good team,” J.D. agreed. “I hope we still do.”

      “Have no fear, amigo. It is like swimming—one never forgets. And you, do you keep in condition?”

      “Constantly. I can’t get out of the habit,” J.D. said. “Just as well that I have. Cutting through that jungle won’t be any easy march. I’ve been keeping up with the situation down here, politically and militarily.”

      “What about this lovely one?” Laremos asked, frowning as he studied Gabby. “Is she a medic?”

      “She’ll handle communications,” J.D. said shortly. “I want her at the ranch with you so that there’s no chance she might get in the line of fire.”

      “I see.” Laremos’s dark eyes narrowed and he laughed. “Trust still comes hard to you, eh? You will never forget that one time that I let my mind wander…”

      “No hard feelings,” J.D. said quietly. “But Gabby runs the set.”

      Laremos nodded. “I understand. And I take no offense. My conscience still nags me about that lapse.”

      “Will somebody tell me, please, what’s going on?” Gabby asked when she could stand it no longer.

      “I’ve gotten together a group to get Martina out,” J.D. said patiently. “That’s all you need to know.”

      “The mercs! They’re already here?”

      “Yes,” he murmured, watching her with a tiny smile on his face.

      “Ah, I think the line of work of our amigos fascinates this one.” Laremos grinned handsomely.

      “Can I actually talk to them?” Gabby said, persisting, all eyes and curiosity. “Oh, J.D., imagine belonging to a group like that, going all over the world to fight for freedom.”

      “A lot of them do it for less noble reasons, Gabby,” he said, searching her face with an odd intensity. “And you may be disappointed if you’re expecting a band of Hollywood movie stars. There’s nothing glamorous about killing people.”

      “Killing…people?”

      “What in God’s name did you think they did, turn water hoses on the enemy?” he asked incredulously. “Gabby, in war men kill each other. In ways you wouldn’t like to know about.”

      “Well, yes, I realize that.” She frowned. “But it’s a very dangerous way to live, it’s…” She stopped and searched for words. “Before I came to work for you I lived a quiet, kind of dull life, J.D.,” she said, trying to explain. “Sometimes I thought that I’d probably never do anything more exciting than washing clothes at the Laundromat. Those men…they’ve faced death. They’ve learned the limits of their courage, they’ve tested themselves until the secrets are all gone.” She looked up. “I don’t suppose it makes sense, but I think I envy them in a way. They’ve taken all the veneer off civilization

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