South of the Border

Excerpt

Chapter One

The muggy heat swamped Agent Danielle La Rue as she descended the rickety metal ramp. The small, Mexican twin-engine roared with antique propellers as she met the only flight attendant on the tarmac. Dani grimaced, wondering if the handshake and toothy smile were in some way an apology for the bad flight.

In a handoff worthy of the NFL, a young Hispanic baggage handler laid her bags at her feet. With a last backward scowl at the plane, Dani hoisted up the heavy gear and her camera bag.

Peering through the dust, she saw a small, white building in the distance that bore a hand-painted sign in Spanish. She sighed heavily and headed for the customs counter and for the promise of a cold soft drink inside.

An icy blast of air cooled her cheeks as she slipped past the out-of-service metal detector. She sneered, appalled at the lack of security, and rolled her eyes at the guards sitting in the corner of the room reading newspapers.

A small, elderly man motioned for her to put the two canvas bags on his counter. She complied, pulling out her fake passport, as the octogenarian slowly rummaged through her hurriedly packed items.

Chewing her lip, with her mind on a cold beer and a fish taco, Danielle rolled her tight shoulders for the mission ahead. Her big chance, maybe her only chance, to shine with an assignment that put her into the field.

As one of the newest members of the Drug Enforcement Agency, she hadn't expected the nod of confidence. Her section chief had been clear that she must photograph and investigate the aftermath of a bloody, gun battle. Eight people dead and reports from the Mexican police linking members of the Hernández drug cartel.

She understood the assignment had a low risk, but if she did a good job and gave a thorough report, she hoped for better. Like her last boss, the U.S. Navy, seniority seemed everything to the DEA. The men and women who made the assignments followed the pecking order carefully. She had no problem with the system, after eight years of working communications as a Navy SEAL. Hell no, she understood all about seniority.

Special Agent Landers was very specific that this would be her chance to prove her worth, and she'd better not screw the pooch.

The building's plate glass window facing the street had layers of filth, and she focused through the sludge with narrowed eyes. She had expected her ride to be waiting for her, where was he?

The agency arranged for a local agent, known for his arm's length of Mexican contacts, to take her to Santiago Astata on the Pacific coast. The man didn't punch a card for the DEA, and he might be one of those cowboys for the Alcohol, Tobacco, and Firearms agency. The ATF and DEA often worked together on assignments that involved the Mexican drug cartels. Where there were drugs, there were guns. She chewed her lip. The ATF boys were a wild bunch and had a reputation of making their own rules in the field.

The elderly man returned her passport. She zipped up the bags.

Her gaze moved to the soda machines, and she winced as she read the Spanish word vacío. Empty. Danielle groaned as she unzipped her bag again and pulled out a warm bottle of water. The tasteless liquid didn't satiate her thirst, but at least it washed down the sand.

Emptying half the bottle in one gulp, she stuck the remainder in the side pocket of her bag and walked out the front door of the tiny building to wait by the curb.

Dani heard the sound of squealing tires before she saw the vehicle. She glanced up in time to see the jeep lean to the side, practically on two wheels, as the tires took the corner. The scruffy white vehicle bounded toward her and she stood solidly, praying the brakes worked.

As the speed junkie came to a sudden stop, she blew a sigh of relief through her tight lips. She picked up the heavy camera bag and slung the strap over her shoulder as her guide/driver, pulled up. Who in the hell could this be but an ATF maverick?

The dust kicked up by the Jeep's sudden stop surrounded her in a storm of choking dry sand. She glanced through the filthy window. The smug smile on the rugged charmer behind the wheel ground into her last nerve.

She let out a low purr, as her body responded to the dark, curly hair worn longer in the back and a body made for the San Diego Chargers.

He stood on the hood and looked around the village, until his long-lashed, brown-eyed gaze dropped into hers. He lifted a brow and scanned her like an MRI, as his mind seemed to go places she didn't have time for now.

Sticking out a stubborn jaw, she walked over to the Jeep, set her bags into the back, and waited for the man to jump down and introduce himself. He would be Agent Carlos Mesa, transplanted to Mexico to keep an eye on the drug cartel in the area.

"Sorry, this ride is for Dani La Rue, and you don't fit the qualifications." His eyes roamed over her body, as if he'd been in the desert too long without a drink. "Believe me, I'm sorrier about this than you are, but there's a taxi service phone just inside the airport."

His sexy grin may have been a compliment, but she didn't intend to allow him to reduce her to a blonde bimbo. Behind her, the tiny puddle jumper she'd traveled in roared for takeoff to its next destination. Her patience hovered on empty.

"Look, Carlos, I'm Dani, and you're taking me south on Highway200. Now." Her voice growled low and demanding; the last thing she needed to deal with would be another chauvinistic agent.

As she climbed into the passenger seat, he'd lost the grin as he sat and started the engine. His foot slammed down on the accelerator like his ass was on fire.

She shrugged him off and leaned back to bask in the breeze. Without doors or windows, the small piece of canvas above their heads let in the wind and kept the sun off. In seconds, she started to cool down.

Dani took an elastic band from her pocket and looped her long hair back. She watched the road as Carlos took a right onto the highway, following the sign pointing to Santiago Astata. He sped toward their destination and she relaxed.

Fifteen minutes later, he looked over at her with a grimace. "I'm not Carlos, he's dead." His ice-filled voice was full of friction.

A sharp twist of her heart sent adrenaline coursing through her bloodstream. They were in the middle of a desolate area, not a car in sight, and she traveled with a stranger.

Stupid.

She eased a hand down to her boot, wrapping her fingers around the handle of a long blade. Her fluid move brought the business end of the blade to lie on the man's neck. His reflexes were lightning fast. He caught her wrist and twisted smartly. She struggled against his strong grasp as he tapped the brakes, bringing the Jeep into soft sand on the edge of the road.

Dani fisted her free hand and sent a blow to the man's jaw. His head snapped back, pulling her with him into the sand. Her body flew out of the jeep to straddle his muscular thighs. With the jolt, she was able to pull against his hold on her wrist and angle the knife to his throat, easing the tip into his tanned skin.

Dani bent close to his face, feeling her heart pound enough to break a rib.

"Who are you?"

He grinned, and she pressed the tip of the knife against his neck. His hand gripped hers around the knife handle, and with a single tensing of his muscles, he flipped his weight to roll her under him with his hands on both her wrists.

"Ah, that's better."

Dani glared up into chocolate-brown eyes and full lips as she struggled. "For who?"

With the advantage of weight pressing her into the sand, he shook his head slowly at her. "I didn't kill Carlos, and you're not in any danger Agent La Rue." His eyes narrowed, and he stared at her as if waiting for her to understand.

Lying spread-eagle, his body pressed into hers, she couldn't think straight. She was in enough trouble, so why did her body betray her? And why did he have to fit her curves in every way? Part of her understood he may be an agent, but the female parts of her anatomy had a mind of their own. Her lips parted, his breath fanned across her face, and she willed the sensation to go away.

Dani relaxed her body, and the instant she sensed him loosen his grip, she head-butted him. In reaction, he released one hand, and she threw sand in his face.

She pushed his chest and slid half out from under his weight. He flattened out and regained control of her wrists, then wiped the trickle of blood from his lip onto his sleeve.

"Get off me and identify yourself."

He looked deeply into her eyes, his thick, dark lashes lowered. He appeared to like what he saw, and she could feel a hard stirring behind the zipper of his jeans.

"I said get off me." She tried to pull her hand away.

His jaw tightened. "Drop the knife, blue eyes."

With Dani's shake of her head, he squeezed hard on her wrist, sending pain along the nerves. She whimpered, but held on.

No one disarmed her. "Identify yourself first."

Neither wanted to give up, and his constantly flexing weight made her ache as she shifted beneath his chest. Her breasts rubbed against him, and she heard his sharp intake of breath as he moved his hips to pin her down.

"Give up, Agent La Rue, you aren't going anywhere."

She bit back a moan of pleasure as she tried to wiggle free and get her leg around his to give her advantage to move him. He counter-balanced her move, and she realized he was enjoying the foreplay. Heat and frustration flowed through her body.

His lazy smile mixed with humor. "You're a stubborn woman, Agent La Rue, and I'd like to do this all day, but I have a job to do." He leaned off enough for her to catch her breath. "I'm Carlos's replacement, Agent Rick Tarrango with the ATF."

Neither of them carried a badge—that would be too dangerous. Damn, she believed his story.

"Off, Agent Tarrango." She could see he didn't miss her breathlessness or the blush rising from her exposed skin as he peeled off and stood.

He put a hand out to help her rise, and she ignored him as she sheathed her knife inside her boot. She took a deep breath and got to her feet, then climbed back into the jeep without a word. He climbed in with a smile, then handed back her sunglasses. She cleaned the lenses and stuck them over her eyes as Rick started the jeep moving again.
She needed a few minutes to cool down from the adrenaline rush and the excitement of scrapping with him in the sand. Her first field assignment and she couldn't control her libido. She'd be damned if the attraction she had for the man would get in the way of doing her job. Somehow, she needed to push all emotions aside. Nothing could distract her from showing Special Agent Landers that she could be trusted on her own.

"What happened to Agent Mesa? My section chief told me this would only be a research mission. I also need to know why the ATF is interested in the bloodbath last night." She focused on the mission. Dani couldn't allow him to think he beat her mind just because he won a wrestling match.

"We have information that a newly inherited drug cartel had a huge straw purchase come in from the Guatemalan waters a few days ago. Your bloodbath connects to the Hernández drug cartel. They were there to make payment on the guns last night." He cracked his neck, and she saw his jaw flex and hoped his face hurt where she head-butted him. "Carlos was killed after he sent ATF some damaging photos and information from his casa early this morning."

Dani blew out the air she'd been holding; this would be a much bigger case now with the ATF involved so deeply.
"Okay. Mexican law forbids assault weapons, and drug cartels have to buy their AK-47s through an exchange system, right?"

"Exactly. American buyers sell their weapons to the cartels."

"Why is the transaction called a straw purchase? I must have missed that in slang during my firearms class."

"The U.S. has no computerized national gun registry. Everything is still on a paper trail."

"Ah, thanks."

Alcohol, Tobacco, and Firearms Agents were always trying to track down illegal U.S. gun shops and trades to the cartels. They couldn't search every ship leaving U.S. docks, and the guns found their way to Guatemala, then over the Mexican border.

"You knew Carlos?" She'd caught his body language.

"Yeah, he was a good agent and a good friend."

With his voice inflection, Dani determined Agent Tarrango knew the man personally. She flinched, remembering how losing a friend to a bullet had twisted her emotions last year. Still, the job came first; she'd never mix sex and partners again.

"I'm sorry about your friend, but I have to ask. Do you speak Spanish? Carlos was chosen for his knowledge of Mexico."

Rick kept his eyes on the road and handed over a file from his canvas bag between them.

"My parents were from Spain. I think I can communicate adequately."

Dani nodded at his terse reply, then leaned up and opened the file. She looked at the contents, careful not to lose any of the photos in the wind.

There were many pictures, primarily of two men. One face she'd seen before in briefings . . . Fernando Hernández. He'd become the leader of the Hernández cartel after his father died in a failed coup the year before. Fernando just turned thirty and now ran the third largest cocaine operation in Mexico. The second man she didn't recognize.

"Who's this?" She held up the picture and he took off his sunglasses.

"His name is Tony Ramirez. He's the representative that collects the guns from American citizens and gun shops before shipping them to Guatemala. He's a clever one, and so far, Tony has stayed under the radar. Carlos got those pictures of him last night before the shooting started."

"Is Tony one of the dead?"

"That's what I'm here to find out. He may be the only one who knows who killed Carlos, except Fernando's men on the scene." His hand hit the steering wheel hard. "I want to stop the gun shipment before Fernando Hernández receives the weapons. Since you're the one with the press pass and credentials, you're going to get the information for me."
Great, now he'd just demoted her to his assistant; who did this hot-blooded Spaniard think he dealt with.

"I have my own orders on this deal, Agent Tarrango, so back off with the superior attitude. I'm your equal. We'll make decisions together."

He slid his dark sunglasses back on and sat back into his seat as she went through the file. The files held information about the purchase of hundreds of assault weapons. Letting Hernández get his hands on the shipment would be horrific.

Still, her assignment was to get pictures and information to the DEA about the firefight. That was her first priority. Rick's desire for justice for his friend seemed evident, but she'd do her job by the book, just as she always did.

Dani looked at her diving watch and decided there would be enough time to accommodate his request. She didn't have to be a hardass.

"If you take me to the lake house on the outskirts of Santiago Astata, I'll go with you when we reach the town and get the information you need." She'd meet him halfway.

"Thanks." He nodded in her direction, and she recognized a truce and the beginning of their interagency relationship. He'd give her the respect she deserved now, and she'd try to help him discover how Carlos met his death.