Cross covered them from the rear, Cassidy from the front. No words were passed, but then neither were any threatening movements. It was all very neutral. Cassidy had seen it before in the ring, when a fighter wanted to call a truce. What came next surprised them all though — three soldiers dressed in camo, weaponless, fanning out to the sides of the first two men.
Cassidy glanced down the line at Cross and mouthed: What the fu—
Then Jemma squealed.
Cassidy snapped back, finger tightening on the trigger. Only to see Guy Bodie step down from the side of the van. Her initial reaction was open mouthed shock, her secondary one to put away her weapon.
Bodie just stared at them.
“Nice hotel,” he said.
“We were coming to get you.”
“How many days?”
“It wasn’t that easy.”
“Probably not. My own poolside margaritas weren’t quite as nice.”
“Fuck’s sake,” Cassidy said. “Quit the whinging and get in here for a hug.” She spread her arms wide.
Bodie looked like he wanted to, but hung back. Cassidy looked properly at him for the first time. Bruises, grazes, dried blood in several places. The man looked beyond weary. And yet he stayed with the people that had clearly rescued him.
What else is going on? More importantly — who are these guys?
Their team didn’t move, still cautious. Bodie sat himself down half-inside the van. They must have driven him straight here after the breakout. Cassidy decided to hell with it and started to walk forward, choosing to talk to Bodie.
It was at that moment that the final pair of legs swung out of the van; these belonging to a woman. The legs kept coming, clad in typical black trousers. When she stepped into view Cassidy saw a tall woman with curly blond hair, an attractive and well lived-in face, offering up a worldly expression. Perhaps that was her standard expression. Who knew? But at the moment, Bodie was referring to her.
“Hey,” she drawled in an American accent. “I guess you guys are the team.” She accented it only slightly, and not in a malicious way.
“Cassidy Coleman.” She walked in close, staring hard into the new woman’s eyes, gauging the mettle there.
“Most of the time I’m referred to as Agent Moneymaker. Some prefer simply Special Agent, which I understand and don’t mind. You can call me Heidi.”
Cassidy shook her head slightly. “So your name’s Heidi Moneymaker?”
“Since the day I was born.”
“Wow. That’s cool. I like it.”
The two women shook, still sizing each other up. Neither moved a muscle as the warm local breezed played through their hair. To every side, the teams’ other men and women watched carefully, but with a relaxed air.
Bodie rose now, pushing off from a pair of bruised knuckles. He breathed shallowly, the aches having set in and making him groan. “The long and short of it is that Heidi and her special ops team broke me out of that prison just a few minutes before I would have died. I owe them my life.”
Cross came over. “And who do you work for, Heidi?”
A tight smile came over her face. “America.”
Cassidy blinked. “Fuck me, you’re CIA! Are you kidding me? You mean to say that the fucking CIA broke master thief, Guy fucking Bodie, out of a Mexican prison? I don’t fucking believe it.”
Cross looked equally flabbergasted. “And the big question of the day is — why?”
CHAPTER NINE
“You need to come with us,” Heidi told them. “I have a relic hunter story to tell you.”
Bodie frowned at that. His rescuers hadn’t spoken much on the way here, only expressed the urgency of their journey, fed him water, food and painkillers, and advised him to rest. Heidi was quick and earnest to assure that he was in no danger and Bodie, always suspicious but unable not to want to believe in new friends, accepted her words.
Of course, he was hardly in a position to protest. It took hours for the painkillers, food and water to really make a difference and by then they were nearing Acapulco. Nobody spoke about his life, his job, the prison or the attempts on his life. Heidi explained who they were and their intent to rescue him, but nothing beyond that.
“No point explaining it twice,” she told him.
He’d been hoping they were reuniting with the team. Now that they were he felt elated to see them, an upsurge that cleaned all the hurt away, but didn’t want to express his feelings too much. That wasn’t his nature. Instead, he kept it inside, using it to regain his edge.
Heidi indicated that there was a safe house about three miles away, toward the older part of town, and asked Cross to follow them. Bodie stayed with the CIA agents and allowed Cross to follow. Wouldn’t hurt to keep his team wondering. He still had questions about the eleven-day lag between his abduction and their operation to find him.
Ten minutes and they pulled up alongside a dirty curb. An agent pulled the door open and jumped out, then popped his head back in to give the all clear. Hands on weapons, the others followed. Heidi urged Bodie ahead. He fell into line, seeing his team lined up alongside their own van.
“You coming?” he asked, flashing a grin.
“Always.” Cross would leave his side only in death.
“Cassidy?”
“Don’t be a dick. Of course I’m coming.”
“Jemma? Gunn?”
Gunn squinted over, uncomfortable without four walls and a computer desk around him. Jemma shrugged in a relaxed manner, happy to go with the flow.
Cassidy leaned in as they headed for a battered metal door. “Glad to see the teeth survived.”
Bodie grinned, then put the lightshow away. “Can’t lose my biggest asset.”
“They’re your biggest asset? Man, most guys would refer to something else entirely.”
“Some people just aren’t that honest.” Bodie winked.
Heidi glanced over her shoulder. “Says the world’s most infamous thief.”
That shut them both up. Heidi waited for the metal door to rattle open, then showed them up a narrow set of stairs, through two sets of dilapidated looking but strong and closely supervised doors and then a claustrophobic corridor where their shoulders rubbed each wall. Bodie knew it was all set up for security and defense, but was still glad to reach the inner sanctum — a sizable room replete with sofas, armchairs, drinks machines, TV and several working communications devices. The only window was smeared with dirt, no doubt deliberately and the door to the kitchen stood ajar, a wondrous smell wafting through.
Bodie’s taxed body and deprived taste-buds exploded into life. “Oh God, what is that?”
“Homemade chili,” Heidi said with a smile. “Who said the CIA can’t party?”
“Funny thing is,” Cross said quietly. “I never met a CIA agent before that admitted they were a part of the agency.”
“Ah well, that may be true,” Heidi said cryptically. “But the reason for that is about to become very apparent.”
Cross acknowledged her candidacy with a bow of the head. Bodie made his way to the coffee machine, the window briefly, and then the comfiest looking part of the sofa. Gingerly, he settled down.
Cassidy flopped herself beside him, shaking his bruised bones and slapping a bloodied knee. “How’s it hanging?”
“Ow.”
“Oh, that bad? So, you find out who bolloxed up our last job and sent you to jail?”
Bodie let out a deep breath. “I’m still trying to get my head around it.”
Cross leaned forward. “Is that a yes?”
“Jack,” Bodie said tonelessly. “Jack did it.”
Now it was the entire team’s turn to look stunned. Even Cassidy was taken aback; she knew how much Pantera meant to him, knew what they’d been through.