Man With A Mission. Lindsay McKenna
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say you’re young and inexperienced. If you were a ranger, you have no women in your outfit—yet. And that’s a pity, in my opinion, because they bring skills and abilities to the table none of us males have ever gotten in touch with. They can teach you a lot if you’re open to learning from them.”
Jake throttled his defensive response. “Beggin’ your pardon, sir, but no woman can do the job a ranger does. Ever.”
Pilar sighed. “Oh, Captain, you are so young and wet behind the ears.”
Chuckling, Morgan said, “If you don’t value what a woman brings to the table, Son, then it’s your loss. Captain Stevenson has single-handedly carved out a spec ops in the Peruvian jungle in the last three years, with a small group of women U.S. Army pilots and women technicians to service the crafts. She’s cut drug running from Peru to Bolivia’s border by fifty percent. Just she and her women. Major Houston was down there for ten years trying to do the same thing, but he didn’t have near the success rate she’s had. Captain Stevenson is a bold, brilliant woman. A strong tactical planner and a visionary way ahead of her time.”
“She’s also a pit bull when it comes to drug runners,” Pilar added grimly. Studying Travers, she said, “Captain Stevenson is a legend in her own time down there. She’s feared by every drug lord in Peru. Her Boeing Apache combat choppers confront Russian Kamov Black Shark helicopters daily in the skies over Peru, stopping the cocaine from being taken over the border to Bolivia. She and her pilots are the bravest we know.”
Houston reentered the room, a big smile on his features. “Good news, Morgan. I got Captain Stevenson on the iridium sat phone.” He came over and sat down, holding a piece of paper covered with scribbled handwriting.
Looking at Travers, he said, “You’re in luck. Captain Stevenson has one Peruvian pilot who was born in the Rainbow Valley—Lieutenant Ana Lucia Cortina, twenty-seven years old. Her mother was a Que’ro Indian, her father an art gallery owner from Lima. Ana knows the Rainbow Valley region and the Inka Trail like the back of her hand.”
“Is Captain Stevenson willing to loan Ana to us for this mission to find Jake’s sister?” Morgan asked.
“Yeah…for the price you mentioned. You know, they’re shorthanded as hell down there. Maya only has twelve pilots. They fly three pilots a day, in the two Apaches and an old, antique Cobra. It’s a twenty-four-hour tour. The pilots then go to standby status for another twenty-four hours, and then the third day they get off, to rest. Actually, they’re not resting at all right now because she’s shorthanded in personnel, too, so they’re doing a lot of collateral duty.”
Mike sighed and tapped his finger on the paper. “That means that if Captain Stevenson releases Ana to us, to help Jake and be his guide, than she’s really going to be shorthanded. Her other pilots must take up the slack while Ana is gone.”
“So, the Apache upgrade will compensate her for this?” Morgan demanded.
Houston grinned. “Yes, sir, it will.”
“Fine. That’s not a problem. How about long-term?”
“She’s hurting for money and people, plus that upgrade. She needs updated, more modern Apaches, which you’re going to provide. They’re flying the old A model, the first of their type. They’ve got the new Longbows out, which are incredible, and before you stepped into the picture, she couldn’t afford them, either. What she needs is an IV transfusion of money, the new D model upgrade and people down there to sustain her in her efforts.”
“We’ll look into this further,” Morgan assured him. “I’m very interested in her setup down there and think we can work together. Maybe we can lend her a hand in a lot of different ways. We’ll just have to see….”
Houston nodded. He looked across the table at Travers. “They’re sending a faxed photo of Lieutenant Cortina to us in the next hour, plus some background info on her. Captain Stevenson says you’re to meet Lieutenant Cortina in Agua Caliente, Peru. That’s a little backwater town at the base of Machu Picchu.
“Captain Stevenson uses the local civilian helicopter that flies in and out of there to ferry her people discreetly from their base, hidden deep in the jungle, to and from this civilian town. Agua Caliente is their formal link with civilization and Cusco, which is the major city they work out of when necessary. Captain Stevenson said Lieutenant Cortina will pose as a tourista, which is normally how her people infiltrate from the military to civilian status. You’re to meet her at—” he looked at the name closely “—a French restaurant named India Feliz—Happy Indian—just off the main plaza. At 1100 hours two days from now.” Mike looked up. “You got your passport in order?”
Jake swallowed hard. “Yes, sir, I do…but…a woman? Sir, if this is as dangerous as it sounds, I really don’t want a woman tagging along with me.”
Mike gave Morgan a pointed look.
“Captain Travers,” Morgan growled, “I don’t think you heard a word we just said. Women are as good as, if not better than, any male out there in the world of spy and stealth combat. I’m sure this Lieutenant Cortina is not going to be a noose around your neck. It will probably be the other way around.” He allowed a slight, one-cornered grin to appear on his mouth.
Stunned, Jake stared at the two men. He saw Pilar sitting back, frowning. He knew he’d insulted her. “But—”
“No buts,” Morgan said. “You want your sister back, Captain?”
“Well…yes, sir, I do, but—”
“Dammit, man,” Mike said, irritated, “don’t throw up this macho mano a mano stuff with us. It doesn’t fly. Our women are equal to our men. Period. Captain Stevenson said your best bet is to use Lieutenant Cortina. She knows the valley. She was born there. She speaks five languages fluently. You speak any but English?”
Stung, Jake growled, “I speak Spanish.”
Mike shrugged. “Then you aren’t going to be as bad a liability as I first thought. Just know that Spanish is a second language down in the valley, Captain. Quechua is first, and Lieutenant Cortina speaks it fluently because she is part Quechuan. Got it?”
“Yes, sir, I got it.”
Morgan tapped his fingers briskly on the table and studied Travers from beneath his dark eyebrows. “I hear the words of agreement from you, Captain, but I sure as hell hear something else in your voice that says you want to take over this mission and do what you think is best. Well, that’s not going to happen. Lieutenant Cortina is in charge of this mission. You got that?”
Jake’s mouth fell open. “That’s impossible, sir!”
“Sit down, Captain. There’s more,” Morgan snarled.
Jake sat down rigidly, breathing hard. A woman! And on top of it all, as his commander? Not a chance!
Jabbing his finger at the ranger, Morgan said, “Lieutenant Cortina runs this mission. If she tells you to jump, you ask how high. Got it?”
“I don’t feel, sir, that any woman can successfully undertake such a mission.”
Morgan gave him a frustrated glare. “Then you do not want our help, Captain Travers. Go find your sister on your own.”
Gulping unsteadily, Jake looked at Morgan’s set face, his glacial blue eyes burning holes through him. The man meant what he said and Jake knew it. Morgan Trayhern was not bluffing. Sitting there, Jake chewed over his options. He desperately needed someone who knew the Rainbow Valley region. He needed an interpreter. Smarting beneath their collective glares, Jake looked down at his hands, which were clenched in his lap beneath the table. Grief and worry over Tal warred with his belief that a woman could never do a man’s job, especially a job like this one. What were his options?
If he flew to Peru on his own, he’d have to hire a guide and interpreter. Could the guide be trusted? How could Jake know for sure he’d find someone who wasn’t a drug runner, working for the drug lord