Kate Donovan - Exit Strategy

Except there was no mistaking the bronze flecks that flashed like fire in the irate man’s eyes as he grabbed Jonathan Kell’s quivering body and pressed the barrel of a black-handled pistol to his throat.

O rtega…

The only thing that gave Miranda the strength not to blurt out his name was the power pill. She even suspected that without the drug in her system she might have come completely unglued at the sight of her despicable “boyfriend” manhandling a sweet, innocent angel like Jonathan Kell with such brutal disregard.

Kell’s blue eyes were round with fear. “Ortega? How can this be? Wha-what’s wrong with you?”

“Shut up,” Ortega advised dryly. “You’re the world’s biggest fuckup, do you know that? You almost ruined everything. All our plans.” Then he raised his voice to a rumbling bark. “Miranda! Get your ass out here. Now!”

She held her pistol tightly, wanting to step forward and shoot him, but forcing herself to think first. This was too unreal. Ortega was the Brigadier. She hadn’t once considered such a crazy thing, even after she made the link with their captivity in South America. Nor had Kell made the connection, it seemed.

It’s going to be someone you’d never guess in a million years…

Well, she had been right about that at least. But wrong-so wrong!-about everything else. And if she made one more mistake, she was going to get herself killed, and Jonathan Kell along with her.

“Th-there’s no one here named Miranda,” Kell dared to inform his assailant.

“You’re a fucking idiot,” Ortega replied. “She’s CIA, and she’s definitely here, playing footsie with you. That’s her specialty, and like an idiot, you went for it.”

Enraged, Miranda stepped into the open, steadying her weapon with both hands. “My specialty? You haven’t seen my specialty yet, Ortega. Let Jonathan go or I’ll fucking kill you.”

“Jennifer, what are you doing?” Kell asked, sobbing.

“Jennifer?” Ortega howled with disrespectful laughter. “That’s the best you and your spinner friend could come up with? You’re as pathetic as Jonathan. At least he has an excuse.”

“Kristie loves you, you creep,” Miranda told him in disgust. “Let Jonathan go. I promise I’ll put my gun down if you will. I want to kill you with my bare hands anyway, so no loss.”

“She’s on drugs, Ortega,” Kell insisted tearfully. “I gave her a dose of the power pill. Don’t take her seriously. Let’s all just sit down and talk-”

“Talk?” Ortega roared. “How stupid are you? This bitch used me to get to you. Now she’s using you to get to me. If you want to save her life, tell her to put down the weapon and slide it over here. Maybe then I’ll be willing to sit down and talk.”

Kell gave Miranda a desperate smile. “Do it, Jennifer. We can work this out. I don’t want to die. But I don’t want you to die, either.”

“But if he has to make a choice,” Ortega said, taunting them both, “he’ll choose himself. Right, Jonathan?”

Miranda’s heart broke for Kell, and she murmured, “That’s enough.” Leaning down, she carefully placed Carl’s gun on the floor, then used her foot to send it sailing toward Ortega.

“Good girl.” Ortega gave the weapon another kick so that it disappeared under the sofa. “Hands up, beautiful. Walk over here slowly. Jonathan? There’s a set of handcuffs on my belt. Cuff her behind her back. Cooperate, Miranda, or he’s a dead man.”

She nodded, then walked over to them and turned her back, her hands behind herself. Once the cuffs had snapped closed, she turned again to face them, murmuring, “Now let Jonathan go. He deserves better treatment than this. He’s been trying to do the right thing, Ortega. The honorable thing. You and I have both been manipulating that. Now it’s over.”

Ortega arched an eyebrow. “Over?”

“I’ll do whatever you want. Just let Jonathan go. He didn’t know I was CIA. He’s loyal to you. I swear it.”

Ortega eyed Kell coolly. “Is that true? Do I still have your loyalty?”

Kell nodded, whimpering. “Just don’t hurt Jenn-I mean, Miranda.”

“And what if I decide I need to kill her? Do I have your loyalty then?”

Miranda gave Kell an encouraging smile. “Go ahead, Jonathan. Don’t let this creep ruin your vision of a wonderful new society. I’m dead either way.”

“Maybe not,” Ortega corrected her softly. Then he told Kell, “Miranda’s not exactly the CIA’s favorite daughter. She came here to salvage her career. Obviously, she fucked that up. But I don’t particularly want to kill her. Let me talk to her, in private. Maybe she and I can come to an understanding.”

“Go fuck yourself,” Miranda told him in disgust.

“That’s the drug talking, Ortega,” Kell said quickly. “Wait a few hours. Once it’s out of her system, she’ll be more reasonable.”

Ortega scowled but nodded. “We’ve come this far. We can wait a few more hours. Tell your men to stay in their quarters. I have troops positioned around the perimeter. They’ll provide security. Maybe we can salvage this effort after all.”

“I’m sure we can,” Kell murmured. “Thanks.”

Miranda looked up at Ortega defiantly. “It’s not just the drug, you know. I hate you more than you can possibly imagine.”

“Yeah, I know. But you’re forgetting how persuasive I can be when I put my mind-and my training-to it.” His eyes twinkled deviously. “Let’s go to your room. We need to talk, and I don’t think a wimp like Jonathan has the stomach for this particular brand of discussion.”

They left Kell cowering in the middle of the drawing room, and in less than a minute, Ortega had herded Miranda into her room and slammed the door behind them. “Sit.”

“Fuck you.”

He laughed. “Sit down, Miranda. We’re just going to talk.” Pulling a small silver object from his vest pocket, he pushed a button and then set the device on a table. “Signal jammer,” he explained.

“Fuck you.”

“Yeah, I got that.” He pulled a black cylinder from a second pocket, then strode to a corner and sprayed paint onto a tiny opening in the molding. Crossing to the opposite corner, he repeated the procedure. Then he murmured, “Did you realize Kell was watching you undress?”

“I’m used to starring in video porn, thanks to you.”

He shook his head. “How much of this is the drug talking? Did you actually know about the cameras?”

“You’re not the only one here who’s CIA-trained, asshole. You’re just the only one who uses it for evil.” She glared contemptuously. “It doesn’t bother me that you screwed me. But screwing Kristie? And your country? How the fuck do you sleep at night?”

“It’s easy,” he told her quietly. “I’m not really the Brigadier.”

Miranda opened her mouth to respond, then closed it, completely speechless.

“I just pretended to be him,” Ortega explained. “So I could get into this ridiculous stronghold and help you get out before you got yourself killed.”

She winced, trying to understand his words despite the combination of power drug and adrenaline that was ordering her to kill him.

Ortega gave her a sympathetic smile, then walked over to her, spun her around, and took the cuffs off her wrists. Then he stepped a respectful distance away and said, “We can talk later. For now, we’ve got to move before Kell figures out what’s really going on.”

“Before Kell figures it out? How about letting me figure it out first?” She covered her eyes with her hands, then peeked through her fingers. “You’re not the Brigadier?”

“It was the only way I could figure to get in here without making Kell suspicious. I’m just glad it worked.”