Hard Target Read online

  One thing was certain, she decided, throwing back her sheets. She wasn't going to meet him alone.

  She should really take someone trustworthy like Ramos, but she had the embassy to think of first and foremost. He was needed there, especially if this was some trick to lure her and other vigilantes away.

  Tay. They were both fish out of water here, but at least Tay was as well-trained as she was. According to the introductory spiel he'd rattled off the first day of her course, he'd worked for the Royal Canadian Mounted Police for ten years as an undercover and security officer, before the military recruited him to train MP's for embassy postings.

  She could call the policia, and they would go up to Cardon Plata, but Cabanelos would see them coming and pick them off like ducks in a shooting gallery. She doubted this man was stupid. He'd know if strangers were coming, even if they were disguised as locals.

  No, she would have Tay accompany her. He wanted to be in the thick of things. Well, it didn't get much thicker than this.

  Standing, she tore off her short nightgown. The maps she needed were in her filing cabinet at work. Might as well go in now. The extra hours would give her time to get caught up, without Tay breathing down her neck.

  She'd call him later to wake him up.

  When she arrived at the embassy less than an hour after Cabanelos had called, sunlight was just beginning to paint the westerly mountains a brilliant red against the dark blue sky. She waved to the vigilante on duty outside as he opened the vehicular door for her.

  As she turned into the compound, she glanced to her right. The traffic was minimal, several vehicles still parked from the night before along the curb. One was a blue Toyota truck.

  There were plenty of Toyota trucks here. Yet, how odd that she should notice that model and color three times since Tay's arrival. And more than odd was that the driver was sitting there. With her glimpse, she caught a rough detail of him. Male, white, youngish. Long, pale hair and light shirt. From the way he was slumped, she could only guess at his size, or even if he was awake. There were plenty of homeless in this city, even young male tourists backpacking through South America.

  In fact, beside the truck, one of the city's many homeless was rousing from his cardboard bed, catching her attention as she moved through the gate. As a result, all she could remember was the Toyota's plate number ended with a forty-two.

  She accelerated around to the rear of the embassy, annoyed the man didn't quite fit the description of Cabanelos. But then, having him so handy would have been too convenient.

  A few minutes later, she punched in her code at the rear entrance and drummed her fingers while she waited for the green light. When it winked her on, she barreled into the mantrap and waited for the next set of sliding doors to open.

  "Good morning."

  She snapped her head up. Tay stood not more than a meter past the metal detector, sipping a coffee.

  "You better not have slept here," she warned, stalking into the embassy's main corridor.

  He lifted the mug he held. "To tell you the truth, I just got in. Haven't had time to do anything but accept a coffee from the vigilante on duty. Very good blend, by the way."

  She glanced down at the mug he held. Her mug. He was drinking coffee out of her mug.

  He lifted it up. "I borrowed it."

  "So I see. Hope you gave it a good scrubbing. I never have time."

  "Don't worry. I did." He turned as she brushed past him. "I guess you always do come in early. How's the head and knee?"

  Throwing him a chilly look, she stalked down the hall. Her footfalls echoed in the quiet embassy accompanied by his. "The knee is better than I figured. I have a headache, though, so if you don't mind, don't talk to me until I've had a coffee and checked the map." She nodded to the vigilante who'd replaced Ramos earlier that morning as she passed his desk to head into her office.

  Smiling, Tay followed her. "The map? Planning a sightseeing tour for me? How nice."

  Dawna didn't appreciate the fact that he was obviously a morning person. "If I could get rid of you that easily, I would."

  She dropped her briefcase onto her desk and returned to the security office, inhaling the strong, restorative smell of the local coffee the vigilantes made for themselves in the security office. She couldn't start her day without good Bolivian coffee, even though in the afternoon, she sometimes drank coca tea to help her with the altitude. She walked over to the coffee pot and scanned for a spare mug, all the while sensing Tay behind her, leaning against the door jamb. "Cabanelos called me this morning," she commented.

  Even the vigilante swiveled around in his seat. Tay straightened and lifted his eyebrows. "When?"

  "Around four." She poured herself a coffee and returned to her office. After taking a sip from the steaming mug, she set it on her desk. "I need a map."

  She dug through the filing cabinet until she found one. It was old, but large and well-detailed. Rescuing her coffee first, she spread the map out across her desk.

  "What are you looking for?"

  Recounting the conversation, Dawna searched the map. "Cardon Plata." She pointed to a spot near the mountains that divided Bolivia and Chile. "There it is, near the Chilean border, south of," she slowed her reading to finish, "Mount Sajama."

  "On a road considered dangerous even by the locals," a voice announced.

  Dawna and Tay lifted their heads. Ambassador Legace stood in the doorway. He'd come in early again. "I couldn't help but overhear you tell Mr. Hastings about your phone call. Were you planning on letting me know, also?"

  Dawna straightened. "Yes, sir. I just got in. Cabanelos wants to meet me at six this evening. By this map, it looks like it'll take several hours to get there."

  The ambassador stepped into the office to study the map. "You know, I visited Cardon Plata shortly after I got here. The road is barely a gravel track up to the village, probably because the national park north of it took all the funding for pavement. Its mountain is fairly steep, hence the danger."

  He turned to Tay. "UNICEF dug a series of wells nearby and the Vice President and I went to officially open them."

  Dawna frowned. She didn't remember arranging that side trip to Cardon Plata. She threw Tay a furtive look, not wanting the ambassador to tip him off to the fact she wasn't aware of her boss' unscheduled stop.

  The ambassador smiled at Tay. "After the official ceremony, we took a short detour up to Cardon Plata with his security team. The village has a beautiful old church and some traditional Aymara homes. In fact, there's a convent up there, too. I took a pair of kittens from the nuns to give to Lucy."

  Dawna lifted her brows. So that was where Lucy got those razor-clawed monsters.

  Turning to Dawna, the ambassador tipped his head knowingly. "Do you think Cabanelos only wants to talk?"

  Dawna held up her copy of the report from the police. "According to what we've learned, Cabanelos is Aymara and supposedly belonged to the local protest group. It's likely the village is familiar, even home to him. He'd feel safe there. Hopefully safe enough to talk."

  "I'm not concerned for his safety, but yours, Dawna."

  Before he could suggest another plan of action, Dawna pushed forward. "He said he could have killed us yesterday, but didn't want to. I don't expect that he'll kill us today. If he's looking for a hostage, he wouldn't pick a police officer. I believe he needs to talk. He sounded anxious. Maybe he has a partner he's worried about. Someone who could turn on him and he needs to get his story out first."

  The ambassador turned to Tay. "And do you think it's wise to go there without the local policia?"

  "No." Tay's face was impassive, his eyes hooded.

  Dawna gritted her teeth. "Ambassador, if this Cabanelos sees the policia coming, he'll take off and we'll never find him. Or he could kill all of us, pick us off like ducks in a gallery. This city doesn't need to lose one of its own police."

  "And I don't need to lose my security officer."

  Dawna smiled. "I wasn
't planning to go alone. I was going to take Mr. Hastings with me."

  Tay lifted his eyebrows. "Thanks. Saves me from telling you that I'm going."

  The corners of the ambassador's mouth tilted up. "You know I trust you, Dawna, but I'm glad you're taking Mr. Hastings. Take one of the armored cars and your sidearm. And a cell phone. I'll expect a report at exactly six-thirty. If I don't get a call from you, I'm informing the policia. I don't want them to think we don't trust them. Let Lucy know when you're leaving." He turned and walked away.

  Lucy stood just outside Dawna's office. She'd been hidden by the ambassador's big frame. Dawna hadn't expected her in so soon. "Lucy, you're in early."

  The secretary looked older than usual. "Ambassador Legace wanted me to come in early to help clear up some work." Her face was pale as she stepped in, away from the security office. "I'll get off early for it."

  A pause lingered between them and Lucy took another step toward Dawna. "Do you think it's safe to go up to that village? That man shot at you."

  "We'll be fine. We'll make less of an impression than the local policia." She forced out a brisk smile. "And I am a police officer."

  Lucy brushed a lock of her salt and pepper hair away from her eyes. "You should take a jacket and hat and gloves. It gets cold in the mountains. The weather hasn't been good up there, lately, they say."

  "Can't be any colder than Ottawa gets," Tay said, his smile somewhat forced. "Last winter, we had a record snowfall."

  Lucy's expression darkened. "I hate the snow."

  "Lucy?" the ambassador called to her from the security office's doorway. Her face pinched into a frown as she spun and followed him out.

  Tay took a sip of his coffee, peering over the rim at Dawna as watched the older woman leave her. "Do you actually believe Cabanelos only wants to talk?"

  She busied herself with the map. "No. I've never had a suspect call me just to talk. But this isn't some petty crook or disgruntled private. This guy could have killed us yesterday, but he chose not to. The same goes for his little bomb. He could have made it bigger, or triggered it at a different time. He didn't sound like a man with a grudge, either."

  "What did he sound like?"

  Dawna paused a moment. "Urgent. Desperate, almost."

  "Which doesn't necessarily mean he only wants to chat and then will let you walk away."

  "Why tell me something, then kill me?" Dawna sighed as she stared down at the map's crinkled, jagged folds. "Look, you don't want to go? Fine. I'll take Ramos, instead. You can read my reports."

  Tay took the map and began to refold it so the western area was visible. "Forget Ramos. When do we leave?"

  "Right after lunch. Make sure you bring plenty to drink. It'll be a dusty drive." She took back the map and shoved it into her briefcase. "In the meantime, you might as well start reading my security reports. That is why you're here." She unlocked a cabinet and pulled out locked metal box. "I keep them on a flash drive in here. I'll get you into the system. It is password protected."

  After giving him access to her computer, she stepped back and watched Tay settle down at her desk. The harsh fluorescent lights shone on his hair. This morning, he seemed quite satisfied to do what she expected of him. Good.

  Did that mean they were starting to trust each other?

  "I'll be back in a minute." She had a phone call to make, preferring it well out of earshot of Tay. Striding down the hall to Lucy's office, Dawna silently forgave herself for waking Ramos after he'd pulled the graveyard shift. But she needed his good rapport with the policia.

  Because Ramos was going to find out who owned a particular blue Toyota with a license plate that ended with forty-two.

  Scrubby grass and dun colors offset the snowy peaks that towered to Tay's right until, at his instruction, Dawna turned the car onto a dusty road. They'd already passed the sign stating they'd reached the highest point on the Pan American highway and Oruro hugged a hillside behind them.

  The whole Alto Plano looked more like a dirty prairie than a mountain range, although one mountain stood starkly ahead. Sajama, Tay presumed. Shorter, but no less spectacular, a pair of mountains loomed to their left. Behind them, Tay noticed with a frown, dark clouds formed in the distance.

  He was glad the ambassador had suggested the smaller armored car, despite the fact one side was riddled with bullet holes. Dawna had explained that the embassy in Bogota had readied the car for disposal, until the military put it on extended life and shipped it down to them.

  Regardless of the car's appearance, it was durable and less imposing than the bigger SUV. And judging from the thin cart path this road was becoming as it hair pinned up the lesser mountain, driving a narrow vehicle was definitely a good idea.

  "Cardon Plata is about forty kilometers in on this road. According to the map, the village clings to the far side of this mountain," Tay said over the sounds of gravel peppering the inside of the wheel wells. He glanced over his shoulder. Nothing but a thick cloud of dust behind them.

  He faced the front. They'd left the tropical vegetation behind in the valley. Now, thistles and scruffy grass provided the only green, while the stark mountains finished the palette with wavy tiers of various browns and ever-present snow.

  "The ambassador said that Cardon Plata means 'silver thistle'," Dawna said suddenly. "According to local legend, the Aymara Indians laid giant thistles in the river beds to catch the silver granules as they washed down the mountains."

  "Do you believe that?"

  Dawna turned her head toward him and smiled briefly, catching him by surprise. Heat rushed through him, and her smile had been only a glancing blow. Then, in slow motion, it seemed, she reset her attention on the dirt road.

  "No, but most legends have a basis in fact," Dawna finally answered. Tay folded his arms over his chest, straining to remember the question he'd asked. Oh, yeah, did she believe in the legend of the silver thistle?

  Of course not. No wild tales for Dawna. Work alone drove her imagination.

  His father had been equally dedicated. Except he'd escaped to his other home, the police station, when things got demanding with his family.

  "Go back to your partner, Nathan. You love him more."

  His mother's voice rang so clearly in his head that Tay had to steal a glance at Dawna to ensure she hadn't heard the brittle retort as well.

  Her attention stayed focused on the bumpy road.

  Tay held his breath, shock waves rippling through him. What the hell was that? His mother's voice, loud and clear, but still in his head?

  What was happening?

  Forcing himself to relax, Tay stared at the approaching mountain. Above, clouds billowed, their bellies heavy with unseasonal rain.

  Forget it, he told himself. An anomaly. Tension making him edgy, that was all.

  Still, his heart pounded. Uncharacteristically.

  He glanced behind him. Only dust chased them. No ghosts. He turned back and stared through the thick windshield. "Those clouds don't look good."

  Dawna peered up at them. "We should have checked the forecast. Like everywhere else in the world, Bolivia's weather is changing. La Paz saw several feet of snow a few years ago and that looks like rain coming. Really odd for this time of year. This is the dry season."

  They fell silent until the tiny village appeared from behind a series of sharp turns. Mud and cement block homes, even some traditional round Inca homes, all haphazardly encircled a small yet only unique church.

  From this distance, Tay could see the square whitewashed spire, with its classic arches and small bell hanging. Below its dome. Attached to it was the sanctuary, a simple square with single door dividing a chipped plaster wall.

  Dawna leaned forward and shut off the fan. Tay hadn't noticed the cooler air filtering in, but now, he shivered. "Lucy's right. It's a lot cooler up here."

  "Just when you were getting used to the warm city, too," she muttered.

  Tay coughed, feeling his chest tighten with the altitude.r />
  "We should have brought a Thermos of coca tea with us," Dawna added. "It helps with the altitude."

  Pulling in a deep breath, Tay found himself glancing over his shoulder. Again. "It'll have to get a hell of a lot colder before I'm bothered. Same with the altitude."

  "You haven't seen the rain, yet. This high up, it may even come as snow." Dawna let out a snort so soft, he wasn't even sure he'd heard it. "And I've seen snow."

  He pursed his lips. Of course she would have seen snow. Three years at an Arctic military base would give her an intimate knowledge of cold and snow.

  He straightened. The military had wasted her talents on that northern posting.

  He should never have tried to make love to her.

  Turning off the main road and slowing to a crawl as she entered the village, Dawna cut into his thoughts, "Cabanelos said to meet him at the church."

  Tay scanned the quiet streets. They were early, and the sun still sat above the white-capped mountains, not yet hidden by the rain-laden clouds. Ahead, a small boy herded a few skinny goats down the narrow street. There didn't appear to be any electricity up here, and Tay caught sight of a traditionally dressed woman hurrying into a house, a child wrapped in a colorful blanket that was tied around her shoulders.

  The street narrowed. Instantly, Tay's defensive instincts kicked in. He didn't like the idea of being penned in. His glance at Dawna told him that she seemed unconcerned by the close quarters.

  The street widened into a small square. To their left stood the church. Words painted at one corner of the front facade pointed the way to the 'Santa Maria de Immaculada.' Probably the convent that the ambassador had mentioned. Beyond the village and hanging onto the side of the mountain amidst terraced fields, were several large buildings in a similar Spanish style. The convent, Tay presumed.

  Dawna swung the car around and parked it in the shadowed side of a larger home, sending a small flock of chickens scattering like mice. Tay's door was closer to the center of the courtyard. He nodded to himself. He would have told her to park like this. He could protect her better. If Cabanelos started shooting, the driver needed to be safe.