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Bristol nodded. “At the beach yesterday. I wasn’t planning for it to come out, but once we started talking…” She shrugged. “Nick is an easy man to trust. Pretty crazy, huh?”

  She expected Isabella to tell her she’d been foolish, that revealing information like that to a man she didn’t know was careless, even dangerous.

  But her friend shook her head and smiled. “Maybe not so crazy. Sometimes our heart can know what is true long before our heads discover it. You simply have to be willing to listen to what your instincts are saying and follow where they lead you. That’s what your mother always used to do.”

  Bristol frowned at that. “And look where that got her. I remember a time when Mom thought my father was charming, too. Then he betrayed her.”

  “Do you think something like that could happen with Nick?”

  “No,” Bristol said, then sighed. “At least I hope not. I can’t be that wrong about him.”

  But even as she said those words, she had to wonder if she was setting herself up for heartbreak. When it came right down to it, what did she really know about Nick Chapman? And what if everything she thought she knew turned out to be a lie?

  * * * * *

  “Where are Roman and Santiago?” Nash asked.

  He saw lots of Munoz’s goons standing by the range’s firing line a few hundred yards away, but no sign of their CIA team leader or his tattooed ATF sidekick. Then again, he also didn’t see any indication that the Mexican army was somewhere nearby either. Not that he expected to. According to the plan they’d come up with last night, the cavalry wasn’t supposed to come charging in until Munoz took possession of the missiles this morning.

  Dalton gave him a worried look, but Shaw didn’t look concerned at all. “They said something about wanting to talk to Munoz this morning before the weapons exchange. I think Roman is hoping to get some more information on Edein Gojkic and the crazy scheme Munoz has planned for the missiles. Personally, I think Roman’s pissed that you figured everything out before he did.”

  “Or he’s pissed Munoz offered you all that friggin' money,” Dalton said, leaning back against one of the range buildings with his arms crossed. “I’m telling you. Somebody waves that much money in front of me and I’d have to at least think about it.”

  Nash knew Dalton was full of crap. His teammate wasn’t the kind to sell out his integrity for any amount of money. He just liked to act as if he would. No, Shaw was right, at least a little. Roman, and Santiago, too, had been thrown for a loop when Nash had told them everything he’d learned. Roman was familiar with Edein Gojkic, but was shocked to hear the man was involved in arms dealing. Apparently, Edein had been a general in the Russian army, rising up through the ranks as a soldier’s soldier, a true warrior. The thought that a man like him had ended up using his connections to turn a profit had clearly stunned Roman.

  “I’m going to see if any of Munoz’s men know what’s taking so long,” Shaw said. “The longer we stand around, the better the chances are that something goes wrong.”

  After the CIA agent left, Dalton stepped away from the building he’d been leaning against and looked at Nash. “You thinking the reason Roman and Santiago aren’t here is because the CIA have decided against stopping Munoz’s little war?”

  Nash shrugged. He hated to admit it, but he’d been wondering the same thing. “I hope that’s not it. When we talked last night, Roman was the first one to point out how many innocent people would die if Munoz was allowed to go through with this scheme.”

  “I hear a but in there somewhere,” Dalton prodded.

  “But I could see some politician types back in the States seeing this as a win-win,” Nash said. “Munoz kills a corrupt Mexican army officer and the army retaliates by wiping out a good portion of the existing cartel organizations. Sure, thousands will get caught in the crossfire between the army and the cartel, but we both know there are people in the CIA who wouldn’t lose a minute of sleep over that.”

  Dalton considered that. “What are we going to do if they don’t show and there’s no Mexican army out there ready to come riding to the rescue?”

  Before Nash could answer, a rumbling sound behind them filled the air. Nash turned around just in time to see a big cargo truck coming their way. A fancy black sedan was right behind it with Leon in the front passenger seat. Nash could see two people sitting in the backseat, but he couldn’t make out who they were. Hopefully, it was Munoz and Roman.

  Nash threw a covert look Dalton’s way before glancing at the hills and scrubby woods beyond. He’d feel a whole hell of a lot better about this if he knew for sure backup was out there somewhere.

  “Get ready,” he told Dalton as he started forward to meet the sedan. “Looks like this is going down, one way or the other.”

  “In that case, maybe you ought to take this,” Dalton said, walking up behind him and discreetly slipping something into his hand.

  Nash immediately recognized the feel of a small-frame automatic pistol. A 9mm or 380 caliber. He palmed the weapon and shoved it into his back pocket.

  “Double-action, no safety, six rounds in the magazine, one in the pipe,” Dalton added as he casually took up the position most people would expect a bodyguard to take, slightly ahead of Nash and off to the side.

  “Where’d you get the gun?” Nash asked as Leon got out of the sedan. The guy’s face was bruised up pretty good and from the way he moved, his ribs were sore. The look he threw Nash’s way as he opened the back door on the passenger’s side could have melted the paint off the sedan.

  “I went out drinking with the other guards again last night,” Dalton said softly. “One of them owed me a lot of money from the bet he made during your fight with Leon. He didn’t have any cash, so we traded his debt for his back-up piece. I lost out on the deal, but I won’t complain. You can never have too many guns.”

  Nash snorted. He’d have to get the complete story out of his friend at some point, but now wasn’t the time. Munoz was already getting out of the sedan. Things were about to get interesting.

  “It might be a shitty time to bring this up, but have you considered what you’re going to do about Bristol?” Dalton asked as they walked. “I’m not a cop, but I get the feeling Munoz’s villa is going to be swarming with Federales and soldiers within minutes of this crap kicking off. What if they take her in, too? She’s the boss’s daughter after all.”

  “Yeah, I’ve given it some thought,” Nash admitted. That was an understatement. In reality, he’d spent half the night lying awake wondering how to pull this mission off and still get the girl. “As soon as we have this situation under control, I’m going to need you to cover for me.”

  “You don’t even have to ask,” Dalton said. “But what the hell are you going to do, kidnap her?”

  “If I have to,” Nash muttered. “Hopefully, it won’t come to that. I just need to find a way to get her out of the compound before things go really bad so I tell her what the hell is going on.”

  “You think she’ll go anywhere with you after she figures out you’ve been lying to her the whole time?”

  That was the part that had kept Nash up last night. The thought of Bristol hating him when she learned the truth made his gut clench. “I don’t know,” he said as Shaw headed their way. “Maybe I should have talked to her last night.”

  “That would have been too risky and you know it,” Dalton said. “She has every reason in the world to hate her father, but he’s still blood. If she’d had a change of heart and decided to warn him, we’d have been screwed.”

  Nash knew his friend was right, which was why he’d ultimately kept his butt in his own bed with his mouth shut. But damn, he’d hate himself later if this all went bad and he lost Bristol.

  “Is it just me or does Munoz looked pissed?” Shaw asked as he joined them.

  Nash glanced at the cartel boss, wondering if maybe Roman had been forced to delay the final deal until the Mexican army had gotten into position. Making Munoz wait would definitely
rile the man up. But then he saw that Munoz was standing behind the opened car door, one hand resting on the waistband of his dress pants and the big automatic pistol shoved in there.

  As Leon walked around the car to open the door on that side, the hair on the back of Nash’s neck stood on end. Every instinct in his body screamed that something bad was about to go down. All at once, a steady calm came over him like it always did when the shit was about to hit the fan.

  “This is going sideways on us,” he said softly.

  “What are you talking about?” Shaw asked, his voice filled with concern.

  Nash ignored him. “Dalton, when it starts, go for the SUV we came in. The driver left the keys in it. I’ll cover you.”

  “Guys, someone want to fill me in here?” Shaw said in a low voice.

  “Nash, there are a dozen guards out here, plus Leon and Munoz. When they start shooting, you ain’t holding them off with that little .380 I gave you,” Dalton said.

  Shaw looked like he still had no idea what was going on, but he didn’t ask for clarification. “Don’t suppose either of you have another weapon?”

  Nash opened his mouth to tell him they didn’t but stopped when he saw Dalton stiffen. A few yards away, the last passenger had gotten out of the sedan. It took him a moment to understand what was bothering his teammate until he noticed that the dark-haired, brown-eyed man looked eerily familiar.

  “Oh, shit,” he muttered.

  Stopping in mid-stride, Nash reached one hand behind his back for the gun in his pocket. How the hell had everything gone so wrong, so fast?

  “Damn, you do look like me,” Nick Chapman—the real Nick Chapman—shouted with a laugh. “It’s almost a shame to shoot someone so good looking, but I’ll get over it.”

  As he spoke, Chapman lifted a MAC-10 submachine gun and rested it on top of the open door.

  Nash already had his small auto out and was taking slow, careful shots at Chapman, Leon, and Munoz even as Dalton darted for the SUV fifty feet away. Unfortunately, the doors on Munoz’s sedan were armored and Nash’s little .380 rounds barely even cracked the windows. Then Chapman’s MAC-10 began chattering in short, choppy bursts and Shaw went down. Nash couldn’t see how bad it was because he was too busy hitting the ground so he wouldn’t get shot.

  Nash fired the remainder of his magazine at Chapman, making the man duck for cover. But even as Nash crawled toward Shaw, he knew it was too late. He was out of ammo and there was no way he and Shaw would survive until Dalton reached the vehicle and got back here. Especially not since Munoz’s men had pulled their weapons and were heading this way. Maybe Dalton would be smart and get himself out of there alive at least.

  Nah. Dalton would come back for them even if it got his ass killed.

  Nash heard the roar of an engine behind him and turned to see a bright red commercial Hummer speeding down the gravel road, blazing past Dalton and the SUV he still hadn’t reached. The Hummer barely slowed as it hurtled into the middle of the biggest cluster of Munoz’s men and scattered them before crashing into the front end of Munoz’s sedan. The SUV slammed to a halt, glass shattering, Munoz and the others shouting as they ran for safety. Then the monstrous vehicle jerked into reverse and backed toward Nash and Shaw.

  Nash didn’t know who was driving the thing, but whoever it was, they sure as hell knew how to make an entrance and pull off a rescue.

  CHAPTER NINE

  BRISTOL WAS ALMOST dancing with excitement as she left her room that morning. She didn’t give a damn about her father’s business, but today it suddenly mattered. Today, the final shipments of weapons her father had bought were coming in, with the exchange set to happen at the gun range not far from the villa. Once it did, Nick would officially begin working for her father and she’d finally have someone else besides Isabella whom she could trust. Someone else who wouldn’t lie to her. Someone else who had her back. A man who would finally take down her father. And maybe, just maybe, she’d have a man she could fall in love with and start a whole new life.

  Who was she kidding? As crazy as it seemed, she’d already fallen for him.

  Nick Chapman was that special.

  She’d been too excited to sleep last so she’d gone down to the library, curled up in her favorite chair and spent hours thinking about Nick and wondering what her mother would have thought of him. She’d started to doze off around four in the morning when she heard voices in the hallway. While Nick’s wasn’t among them, the men had said his name several times. Not sure why she’d done it, she slipped out of the library and followed at a distance, shadowing Roman and the heavily tattooed biker guy until they went into her father’s office. Even though it was insane, she’d stood at the door and eavesdropped anyway, listening as the two men and her father discussed the future purchase of other weapons and the possibility of Munoz moving the center of his operation to Europe.

  Roman had just asked her father if he’d be interested in hiring them full-time as he had Nick when footsteps echoed at the other end of the hallway. Not eager to get caught by one of her father’s men, she’d hurried back to her room and crawled into bed.

  Bristol was in the kitchen nibbling on a churro for breakfast and wondering when Nick would be back when Isabella ran in with a frantic look on her face.

  “Nick Chapman is here!”

  A silly burst of happiness surged through her. The weapons exchange had taken less time than she’d thought. That was good. Although she couldn’t understand why Isabella seemed so agitated.

  “Great!” Bristol said. “I was thinking about asking him to have lunch with me, but breakfast will work, too.”

  Isabella shook her head. “No, it’s not great. I was outside near the guard barracks a few minutes ago and saw your father talking with a man who called himself Nick Chapman. But it wasn’t your Nick Chapman.”

  Bristol frowned. Her friend was making no sense. “There are two Nick Chapman’s here now?”

  Isabella gave her a frustrated look. “No, there’s only one Nick Chapman here, and the man you’ve been kissing isn’t him. The real Nick Chapman showed up this morning and he’s furious.”

  Taking the half-eaten churro from Bristol, Isabella tossed it on the counter and grabbed her hands, her face pleading. “Bristol, the man you’ve fallen in love with isn’t Nick Chapman. I don’t know who he is, but he’s not the mercenary arms dealer you thought he was.”

  Bristol’s first instinct was to tell Isabella she was wrong, that she’d misheard something. But Bristol knew that wasn’t true. Isabella was too smart for that. She’d seen what she’d seen and heard what she heard. But what did it mean?

  “If Nick isn’t the man I thought he was, who is he?”

  Isabella squeezed her hands tighter, shaking her head again. “Like I said, I don’t know. But if I had to guess, I would say he’s someone sent in to take out your father.”

  Bristol’s heart raced. “Sent in by whom?” Bristol asked.

  “I don’t know,” Isabella said. “Maybe someone higher up in the Amador cartel, or a rival cartel even. It could be Interpol or the US. It could be anyone.”

  Bristol’s knees went weak as a horrible thought occurred to her. Maybe Nick’s promise to protect her had been a lie. “Was anything that happened between us real?” she whispered. “Or was it simply a way for him to get to my father?”

  “That’s something only you can answer,” Isabella said. “But you don’t have a lot of time to decide.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Your father and the real Nick Chapman are going to the range for the weapon exchange, and from the way they were talking, I think they plan on killing your Nick.” Isabella’s mouth tightened. “Leon went with them.”

  Bristol suddenly felt like she couldn’t breathe. The man she’d been falling for had deliberately lied to her. Why did she feel anything for him?

  Because no matter what lies had been spoken, her heart knew that the feelings between them had been real.

 
“I have to help him,” she said firmly.

  Isabella nodded, already urging her toward the door. “Take one of the vehicles in the garage. You know where the keys are kept, right?”

  Bristol knew. She’d seen the big rack of keys in the small office off to the side of the garage a hundred times. But knowing where the keys were and being able to get one of them were two completely different things. There was always at least one guard in that office at all times. And another one usually patrolling the front of the villa.

  “I’ll never get to those keys,” she protested.

  Isabella stopped at the door leading into the garage and turned to face her. “You will if I distract the guards first.”

  Bristol opened her mouth to argue, but Isabella motioned her to silence. “Don’t even try it. I’ll be fine. Go help Nick—or whoever he is. Once you get to him, you can go to my sister’s house to hide until the two of you can figure out a way to get out of Manzanillo. But be careful. There isn’t anyone in the city your father doesn’t own.”

  Before Bristol could even thank her, Isabella slipped into the garage. A moment later, Bristol heard her telling the men she’d made her special huevos rancheros for breakfast and that they’d better come inside right then if they wanted some.

  Bristol couldn’t imagine how that could possibly work. Her father’s men weren’t that easy to distract. But a few moment later, she heard footsteps approaching the door. She barely had time to hide behind it before Isabella and three guards walked in and headed for the kitchen.

  She darted out the door and into the garage, praying everyone in it had gone with Isabella. Based on the silence that met her as she gazed at the long rows of sparkling cars and trucks, she realized Isabella had really done it.

  Bristol ran into the office, making a beeline for the key rack. She hesitated for a moment, wondering which vehicle to take. Her first instinct was to go for something small and inconspicuous, but then she remembered that getting a vehicle was only the beginning of this little rescue attempt. She still had to get off the property then save her Nick. Shooting might be involved.