The Captive's Return (Wingmen Warriors 10)

More fear stung along her skin as if a hundred of those brown spiders attacked her. For so long, Ramon had watched her, dissecting her every word and move. Shaking free of paranoia that was totally justified proved difficult even when she knew people were looking out for her best interests.

"I wasn't completely cut off from information in his compound, simply fed news filtered through Ramon while trying to evaluate its worth based on old knowledge."

A niggling new fear teased through, worries about what she might have missed or misinterpreted? What other things could Ramon have kept from her? What kind of world would she be returning to? Potential land mines could be all around her and she would never know. Panic weighted the air, every dragging breath more difficult than the last.

For so long she'd dreamed of escaping, and now she wanted to stay in this safe house with Lucas and Lucia where it was, well, safe.

The room narrowed, the edges pulling in darker.

"Mrs. Quade?"

Mrs. Quade?

Keagan's call snapped her back, the edges of the room lightening again. She'd been married for five years and never once used her new last name. Ramon had stolen too much from her. She wouldn't let him have even a second more.

"Si. I am sorry for drifting off for a moment. There is much to process." She gripped the arms of her chair and continued, "Ramon also grew less careful in keeping secrets. I began to hear things, which brings me to my second reason for leaving. After Aragon's death, Padilla gained power since Ramon lost his major ally. Padilla decided the time had come to launch an attack."

She breathed, in, out, slowly, carefully to stop the panic attack from returning. "I'd given up waiting for a miraculous rescue—ironic, isn't it, how close you were? But I still do not understand why, after so many years of turning a blind eye to men like Aragon, would local officials decide to clear the snakes from the jungle? And the United States is helping?"

Would Keagan even answer her? Perhaps she should have asked Lucas, but he seemed so bent on cosseting her, she doubted he would discuss any of this in detail.

Keagan hooked an ankle over one knee, flip-flop dangling from his jostling foot. "Cartina doesn't want to become another Colombia, so overrun with crime that tourists avoid the place like the plague. The crime stakes upped a notch with the infiltration of terrorist factions into South America demanding a piece of Aragon's drug money."

"Why not eliminate Aragon, Ramon and Padilla all at once?" Even though the thought of reentering the world set off nerves in her stomach, she couldn't stem her overflowing curiosity after so long having her mind stifled. When she'd worked in the embassy, she'd been privy to world secrets. That long-suppressed side of her clamored to be fed.

"That's a mighty large undertaking and terrorism is already spreading our people thin all around the world. Sometimes it pays to let folks clean up their own messes when possible. Think about it."

The pieces slid into place. "With Aragon out of the picture and no longer in Ramon's camp, his power lessened, which emboldened Padilla. So you sat back to wait for them to kill each other."

"We didn't exactly 'sit back.' They're being watched."

"Which is how you finally found me."

"Yes, and that's enough for now." He waved toward the breakfast platter. "I should let you eat. I'll tell the Colonel we're through. Have a nice breakfast, Mrs. Quade."

Mrs. Quade. The panic and excitement churned inside her all over again. The marriage was official now, consummated. To end things required more than an annulment.

So go for it. Right? Of course. That made total sense. She didn't even need to think about it.

She should enjoy her breakfast with Lucas while they watched over their daughter together. She walked to the breakfast tray and looked at the assortment of foods Lucas had put together. More of the tortillas filled with cheese. Some simple toast with a fruit salsa in a small crock. Another couple of tortillas with what looked like sausage and eggs inside—and thankfully no more bananas. He'd gone to so much trouble for her.

Which did she want?

The tickle of panic returned.

How silly. She only needed to pick which to eat. One tiny choice in light of all the decisions she would make in resuming her life.

Panic swelled higher at what waited for her outside. For years, she hadn't been allowed to make a decision on her own, even what to eat. Every meal had been prepared and served with Ramon controlling her diet "for her own good."

And the decisions to come were far more important than cheese versus eggs in the morning.

A knock sounded at the door.

"Lucas?"

No one answered. The pounding continued. She frowned. The hammering was muffled, distant, not on the bedroom door at all.

Someone was beating on the front door outside the apartment.