‘I would if anyone had ever told me. It wasn’t in any of the files.’ But it wouldn’t have been, she realised, her blood running colder still. Alberto had told her to prepare to ‘grease the wheels’ with the Governor but Alberto had been half crazed with grief and there had been nothing written down and for good reason; who would be stupid enough to leave a paper trail advertising law-breaking, even if for good reasons and intentions? ‘Why didn’t you tell me seeing as you know so much?’
She’d been so proud and relieved to have got the Governor’s agreement that she’d been oblivious to anything else.
‘I assumed you did know. I could hardly tell you in the middle of the meeting—’
‘We’re being followed.’ It was Seb’s voice that cut through their angry exchange.
Felipe turned to look out of the back window.
‘Black Mondeo.’
‘I see it.’
Felipe’s left hand gripped Francesca’s shoulder, preventing her from turning to look too.
‘Keep down,’ he said tautly.
‘But...’
A silver gun appeared in his right hand.
‘What do you need that for?’ she virtually screeched.
‘Someone’s following us.’
‘How do you know that?’ she asked, her eyes on his gun. ‘They might just be travelling the same route as us.’
His eyes were hard. ‘It’s my job to know and if I don’t know then I don’t take risks. Now hold on.’
The hand that had been holding her shoulder moved so his arm covered her chest like an additional seat belt. A second later she learned why when Seb put his foot down.
She only just held back a scream when she found them suddenly hurtling along the bumpy roads. Caballeros passed by in a blur, the roads narrowing and deteriorating the further south they travelled.
When they missed hitting an oncoming truck by inches, she squeezed her eyes shut and clung to Felipe’s arm and didn’t let go until with a squeal of brakes the car came to a stop.
‘You can look now, we’re at the airport,’ Felipe said, his voice tight. ‘We’ve lost them.’
She let go and was pleased to see him wince as he shook the arm she’d been holding with the grip of a boa constrictor. The gun was still nestled comfortably in his right hand.
‘On what planet is travelling at a hundred miles an hour over potholed narrow roads keeping me safe?’ she demanded, all the contained fear spewing out in one swoop. ‘We could have been killed!’
Her door opened and James stood there, a big grin on his face. ‘That looked like some ride.’
‘Your colleague’s a maniac.’
‘Who? Seb? Don’t worry about him, he’s done an advanced motoring course.’
‘Shut up, James,’ Felipe bit out, then to Francesca said, ‘I’m sorry if we scared you but I did warn you of the dangers.’
‘You warned me of kidnap and robbery. You said nothing about a car ride turning into the rollercoaster ride from hell. You said nothing about being armed.’
‘Would you have preferred we let them catch us? Should I have asked them nicely why they were following us and what they wanted? Should I arm myself with a feather duster to protect you?’
‘Well...no...’
‘Then let’s get in the plane before they find us and tell us in person what they want.’
‘We’re supposed to be going to the hospital site.’
‘That can wait.’
‘But...’
The look on his face stopped her arguing further. It was a look that spoke plainly. If she didn’t get out of the car and onto the plane right now he would carry her to it.
The adrenaline racing through her peaked to imagine what it would be like carried in his arms...
Humiliating, that’s what it would be, carted off like a recalcitrant child.
Jutting her chin in the air, she twisted round and got out, snubbing James’s offered hand.
‘I don’t know why you’re ignoring me, I wasn’t in the car,’ he complained.
She couldn’t help but smile weakly at his boyish charm even though he too had a gun in his hand. ‘Shut up, James.’
‘Yes, shut up, James,’ Felipe muttered as he followed her, scrutinising their surroundings, his hand on her back, ready to throw himself on her should anything happen.
His heart still pounded from the adrenaline surge of the race back to the airport and he was as angry about that as he was about Francesca’s idiocy. Adrenaline was part of the job—for most of them it was the job—but not like that.
Only when they were airborne did he put the gun back in his inside jacket pocket.
He’d seen Francesca’s fear when he’d produced it.
Good.
Fear could be a useful tool provided one knew how to control it. She had controlled her fear well enough, he admitted grudgingly, but she had to learn her safety wasn’t a game. There would be no compromises in that regard.
He closed his eyes and breathed welcome oxygen into his lungs.
He hadn’t experience a charge like that since the hostage situation a decade ago that had ended in such destruction and his own medical discharge from the forces.
* * *
When they landed back in the safety of Aguadilla, Francesca found she could breathe again. Caballeros had frightened her more than she wanted to admit. The guns Felipe and his men carried frightened her too; a physical reminder of the danger Daniele and Matteo had been so keen to ram into her but which she had naively thought they were exaggerating.
Felipe took the wheel, taking them through rural byways where coconut sellers lined the road and men sat at tables playing board games. One minute they were driving through what looked like jungle, the next in the open air with the Caribbean Sea gleaming before them, then back into the jungle. Twenty minutes after they left the airport, they pulled up outside a pretty single-storey lodge.
‘This looks nice,’ she said, attempting a conciliatory tone at the rigid figure driving the car who hadn’t exchanged a word with anyone since they’d left the airport.
Now that her adrenaline had settled she could appreciate that a combination of her fear and the awful realisation that she’d screwed up had made her come across as a spoilt brat. Felipe and Seb had done nothing more in the car than they were being paid for—keeping her safe. And Felipe had tried to warn her in the meeting, she remembered. But they’d been non-verbal warnings she’d ignored in her determination to seal the deal.
She would have to apologise.
‘This is where we’re slumming it,’ James said, his eyes twinkling.
‘Hardly slumming it,’ she protested. ‘It’s charming.’
‘Nah, not you. Seb and I have to slum it while you and grumpy here get to live it up in a seven-star paradise up the road. Don’t party too hard.’
Both men slammed the doors behind them, leaving her in the back alone with Felipe up front.
He switched the engine back on.
‘Hold on, I’ll come and sit