“See to it that these little messes do not become common place. We are near the end of the race. It must be finished. Make sure Wyatt is taken care of.”
“It won’t happen again.”
The line was momentarily silent.
Then Jennings added, “There was an unanticipated interruption, sir.”
“Interruption?”
“Two women appeared. One was with Wyatt in his room when our men moved in. We think it was Emily Starks. The other one is an unknown. She took out several of our agents.”
“Unknown? Did anyone get a good look at her?”
“We are checking security cameras now but she could have been disguised. It may be difficult to get an ID.”
“Do you have their location?” Lindsey was sounding more and more annoyed.
“Not yet. We should by noon.”
Alexander’s voice was pensive. “Don’t take them out yet. I want to know what they’re up to and who this mystery woman is. They may be of use to us after all. Then when the time is right….” He trailed off.
“Yes sir.” The line went dead. Jennings checked screen and saw that Lindsey had hung up.
Chapter 18
Sean awoke and shook his head. He was lying in a room with walls made of solid wood planks. The bed was soft, softer than most he’d slept in. He leaned over to a nightstand and checked his phone to see what time it was then swung around the edge of the bed and walked over to the window overlooking the jagged mountains to the north. A quick inspection of the small guest closet revealed a plush, white robe that extended down to his knees. There was a slight chill in the air so he decided to help himself and slipped into the cozy garment.
The interior of the mountain top chalet was much larger than the exterior belied. It was a narrow building, probably thirty to forty feet wide. Counting the garage there were three floors, two of them housed the living quarters of the home. The layout was unique. He’d learned as much by way of a quick tour from their host the previous night. A great room opened up into the kitchen and dining room with hardly any dividing walls whatsoever. On the first floor a master bedroom and an office area took up some of the space along with a porch that opened up on the side of the house and wrapped around to the front, overlooking the basin and the far-off city below. In the living room, enormous windows displayed the breathtaking desert view. Upstairs on the second floor were two guest rooms, another master bedroom and bathroom and an outdoor patio that faced the other direction into the mountains and beyond to the north. The furnishings were simple but modern, an eclectic mix of black leathers, dark frames, and brightly colored draperies, photos, and artwork.
Sean walked slowly into the living room as the sun was peeking over the mountains to the east. The smell of fresh coffee lingered in the air. His host sat comfortably in a deep leather sofa near the window in a terry cloth robe identical to the one he was sporting. She held a large coffee cup in her hand.
“I see you made yourself at home,” she said sarcastically, her Spanish accent seemed extra thick in the morning.
He looked down at the robe and spread out his arms as if showing it off. “I figured you wouldn’t mind.” He ran both hands down the sides of it, feeling the supple texture again then added, “This thing is really soft.”
“They are better than the ones that were given to you at the hotel, yes?” A smile told him she appreciated the compliment.
“Definitely,” he returned the grin.
“Would you like some coffee? I have it brought in from one of my family’s estates in Guatemala.”
“You have a coffee farm in Guatemala? Didn’t look like a coffee farmer the way you handled yourself last night.”
She stood up and eased past him, leaving a fresh scent of perfume dancing around his nostrils.
“I’m not a coffee farmer, Senor Wyatt,” she replied while she set down her own cup and filled another identical one nearby from a steaming, steel pot. “Cream and sugar?”
He nodded and smiled. “I’ll take mine how you take yours, por favor.”
The Spanish caught her off guard slightly and she cast him a playful glance out of the corner of her eye. “Well, I take mine with milk and a little sugar. Will that be ok?”
“Sounds perfect.”
She mixed the concoction and handed it to him, which he accepted graciously then proceeded to follow her back to the sitting area. They sat down across from each other, he in a matching one-seater.
“Is your friend still sleeping?”
“Probably,” he said as he took a long sip of the aromatic coffee.
There was a moment of awkward silence. He lowered the cup from his mouth and made a gesture with it. “This is really good.”
“Gracias,” she nodded to him.
“So,” Sean changed the subject, “you obviously know about me. But I know absolutely nothing about you? What’s your story?”
She laughed slightly at the question. “There isn’t much to know.”
He took another big sip of the creamy, brown liquid. “Mentirosa.”
The Spanish word surprised her and a snort escaped her nose in mid-sip causing her to nearly spill her coffee. “I am not a liar, Mr. Wyatt.”
“Please, call me Sean.”
“Very well, Sean,” she said in a sarcastic tone. “I was born in a small town about thirty minutes outside of Madrid. My father was involved in many different business ventures. His affairs led him to be out of town much of the time. Eventually, my mother became very ill. When she died, my father was crushed. We grew very close for the months after her death.” She paused and took a deep breath. The pain was still very close to her heart. “My father is a tremendous inspiration for me. He always treated me like his princess. When I went a way to University, he would call every week to talk to me and ask how I was doing.” There was a slight tone of regret in her voice.
“So you left home to go to school?”
She nodded. “As much as I loved my father, I had to leave. Business was starting to take him away again and the pain was too much to bear without mother around.”
Sean understood. He felt lucky he’d been able to keep his family around as long as he had.
“I feel like because he spent so much of his life working to give his family a better future, he missed out on so many things that the world has to offer.”
Wyatt felt like saying something but he held back. Instead, he tried to lighten the mood. “If your other adventures were anything like what happened last night I’d say it’s probably best that you leave him at home,” Sean grinned wide.
“Perhaps,” she laughed a little. She changed subjects. “After I graduated from University, I started working a little here and there with some small scale antique collectors from Europe and Asia. At first I just did it because I needed the work. Then one day I was checking my bank account and I saw something very strange.”
“Lot of money missing?”
She shook her head. “The opposite. Someone had made an enormous deposit into my account. I felt certain there had been a mistake, but I was assured that the balance was correct. I can only assume my father must have put the money there. But he never said why. “So I used that money to do what I loved. I traveled the world, searching for antiquities on my own. I became what you American’s would call a treasure hunter. But I don’t do it for the money. I do it because I love history. Nothing beats that feeling you get when you find something that hasn’t been seen or touched for hundreds or thousands of years. It is like nothing else.”
“What do you do with the artifacts when you find them?” he asked, curious.
“I keep them in my collection,” she answered pointedly. “Occasionally, I return them to their rightful owners.”