Escape Out of Darkness (Maggie Bennett 1)

“Not everyone knows a friendly neighborhood CIA agent.”

“I know a lot of people,” Mack said. “Van Zandt put me in touch with Wallace and Third World Causes. He thought you guys might be interested because of the rebel connection.”

“He was right. That explains a great deal. So you’ve got the Mafia after you and the rebels. Not good, Pulaski.”

“Add the CIA to your list. They’ve been turning a blind eye to the rebels’ fund-raising efforts, what with Congress being so close-fisted about supporting them. According to Van Zandt, the Company wouldn’t mind if a little accident happened to me along the way. I’m something of an embarrassment. Every way I look I see trouble.”

“What do you want to do?”

“I’m not interested in heroics. I want to go back to work and be left alone. There’s no way I’m going to stop the drug traffic between here and Latin America, and I’m damned if I’m going to risk my butt trying. People can stuff whatever they want up their noses as long as they don’t involve me. Unfortunately, no one seems to believe that. Everyone wants to shut me up when I have no interest in opening my mouth in the first place.”

Maggie’s lip curled in disgust. “I guess you’re not out to save the world.”

“And I guess you are. Third World Causes, Ltd. sounds pretty damned noble. Do you get off on being a lady bountiful?”

She couldn’t see behind the glasses, but she could guess that those warm hazel eyes were now cold and hard. He hadn’t liked her judgmental tone, and while she couldn’t blame him, some little devil prodded her onward.

“I get off on making a difference,” she snapped back. “I think looking out for number one gets a little old after a while. But hey, it’s your life. You can live in a little bubble, and Peter and I will do our best to make sure that bubble is safe and no bad guys will get you.”

“You’re so goddamn smug, lady. You think you’re the expert on life?”

“I think …” She took a deep, calming breath. “I think we’d better not fight all the way to Houston. It’s about fifteen hundred miles, and we’re supposed to be a newly married couple on our first vacation. There are papers in the glove compartment. Credit cards, driver’s license, the works. You’re Jack Portman, forty-one years old, an advertising executive from Phoenix. I’m Maggie Portman, your wife of two years. I’m in corporate law, working for an oil company.”

“Sounds repulsive.”

Her strong, slender hands clenched the white leather-covered steering wheel for a moment, then she relaxed them. “Sorry, you’re stuck with me. Have you been married before or am I your first?”

“You’re my third, and I hope to God you aren’t going to cost me as much as the first two.”

“You can count on that.”

“But I bet you’re going to be just as much trouble,” he muttered direly. “Listen, Maggie Whoever, I’m going to sleep. Wake me up when you want me to drive.” He began to slide down in the seat, the battered hat pulled down over his eyes.

Maggie casually checked her rearview mirror again. “You’re going to miss all the fun,” she murmured.

He straightened up. “Do I want to know what you’re talking about?”

“Not if you want to keep living in your safe little bubble,” she said sweetly. “I think we’re being followed. For Christ’s sake, don’t turn around, you idiot! You can see them in the rearview mirror, two cars back. It’s the requisite black sedan, two anonymous-looking men driving. They’ve been following us since we reached the paved road more than twenty miles back.”

“Maybe they’re just going in the same direction we are. This is the main route out of town.”

Maggie shook her head in disgust. “Do you want me to stop and ask?”

“I want you to drive like a bat out of hell. Better yet, let me drive.”

She grinned at him, the adrenaline pumping through her veins and temporarily wiping out the jet lag. “I don’t think we should stop long enough to change drivers. Granted they’re probably CIA rather than Mafia or the rebels, but I still haven’t got a lot of faith in their sense of fair play. I think we’re better off outrunning them.”

“In this white elephant?” he groaned in disbelief.

“In this white elephant. It’s got a V-eight engine the size of Greater Miami, enough horses for the Russian Cavalry, and it’ll outrun any piece of garbage the CIA can come up with. The question is, can we take a chance in outmaneuvering them? I don’t know whether they saw us, whether they can

put out the word and have someone a little more talented catch up with us. Maybe we can just keep driving, looking real innocent and …” She let the words trail off as she looked once more in the rearview mirror.

The black sedan had passed the two intervening cars and was now riding close enough on their trail for Maggie to see the expressions on the men’s faces. “Hell and damnation. They’ve made us.”

“So it seems,” Mack said mildly. “What are you going to do about it?”

“You’re pretty damned casual, considering it’s you they’re after,” Maggie snapped, keeping her hands resting lightly on the steering wheel.