Chapter 4

The buzzing phone jerked Taylor awake. The phone said he’d been asleep for only five hours, which wasn’t enough, since he had a strong feeling that this day was going to be even longer. It also meant that, had he been a gambling man, he would have lost a fair amount of money.

Before he’d gone to bed the night before, Taylor had sent a message describing, in extreme detail, what would happen if the gang leader took the upfront payment and ran. Even with that threat, he’d been all but certain that the gang would do exactly that.

Instead, his phone read, “The woman will meet you at Mercado Municipal de Chacao. Ten AM.”

Could it be a trap? Sure, although it seemed unlikely to be one set by Bonnie, since she wanted the US government to get her out, which meant she had to take a risk at some point that his being here was on the up and up. There were lots of reasons why a street gang would set up a US agent, though. Maybe sell him out to a larger gang? That was just a guess, but one he had to take seriously.

Taylor did some research on the market. It was a two-story affair mostly for selling foodstuffs, based on his cursory search. The time didn’t look to be just a coincidence or for convenience. From what he could see, that was the busiest time for the market, with lots of people from restaurants and families shopping for their food for the day.

It didn’t surprise him. Bonnie was smart. She wanted the crowd for cover.

Taylor was also cautious, leaving well ahead of time to stake out a good position to see her come in. When he arrived at the market, he parked the borrowed jeep away from the building a bit and approached it on foot, taking a circuitous route through side streets.

Probably overkill, but considering the situation and who he was meeting, overkill was called for.

The market was already packed with vendors, set up with food on display, shouting at the throngs of people already buying or milling around. It wasn’t completely packed, but it would be hard to find her in the crowd.

Taylor kept to the periphery, not stopping, since one person standing still would be very noticeable, playing the tourist, which wasn’t much better since Caracas didn’t get many tourists these days, but it wasn’t like he could blend in completely. Besides, Bonnie would have the same problem.

He bought an orange from a stall, peeling it and taking small bites from its sections as he watched the people around him, searching for a white face in the crowd, even though he was there almost an hour ahead of the meet time. Better to see her coming in than the reverse.

She must have had the same idea, though. He was just taking a big bite of the orange when he saw a tuft of curly black hair moving through the crowd. He couldn’t see her face, and it had been a year since they were in the warehouse where she’d supposedly blown herself up, but he recognized her hair.

Tossing the rest of the orange in the trash and wiping his hands on his pants, Taylor circled, his eyes locked on her hair, catching the occasional glimpse of her face. The mercenaries made the situation believable, but Taylor still couldn’t trust that this meeting was on the up and up and not some kind of trick, so he didn’t plan on having her see him first.

He’d hoped to get up close to her, put a gun on her, and quietly march her out of the market to keep better control of the situation.

That idea went out of the window as soon as he saw the man a few steps away from her, coming out of the crowd behind her. He looked believably Latin and wore jeans and a baggy shirt, dressed like half the men he’d seen in the city.

But it was the boots that gave him away. Nearly everyone here was wearing sandals or ratty tennis shoes. This man wore fairly new and very well-cleaned black Russian-style military boots. The kind popular with private military organizations across the Soviet bloc. In addition to that was the man’s expression. His eyes were locked on Bonnie, and he was smiling as if he was about to win the big game.

It only took a second for Taylor to realize the gang had played him. They’d sold the information to him and the mercenaries, choosing profit over loyalty to their dead comrades.

Taylor’s hand flew to the small of his back, pulling the borrowed weapon and bringing it up in one motion as the man reached under the hem of his own shirt, almost certainly for a weapon.

Someone screamed as Taylor extended his weapon, drawing Bonnie’s attention. She looked at him as Taylor was looking at the merc, her own hand going for a weapon. Panic flashed across her face as she saw the weapon already pointing her way, almost certainly doing the math and realizing she couldn’t dodge out of the way or shoot him before he shot her.

But he wasn’t aiming at her. His gun cracked, the sound cutting through the noise of the market. The mercenary behind Bonnie jerked, a spray of red covering the people around him as the back of his head exploded. Taylor hoped the punch through didn’t hurt anyone behind the man, but his weapon had already been halfway up, and Taylor couldn’t risk just wounding him.

Chaos erupted. People screamed, scattering in all directions, not bothering to try and figure out where the gunshot had come from. Their panic exposed the guys’ buddies, who were dressed the same way, maybe hoping they could blend in and get the drop on Bonnie, since their previous attempts of going in with guns blazing hadn’t worked.

They’d been well hidden, since half of them were near him, opposite Bonnie. The chaos, however, seemed to throw them, with their focus trying to hold on to Bonnie, confused about their man going down, giving Taylor several seconds as they tracked the shot back to him and realized they’d suddenly become targets for a new player.

Taylor didn’t wait to act. He lunged forward, grabbing the nearest merc and wrenching him to be his human shield as the merc’s friends started to raise their weapons. Seeing their buddy, they didn’t hesitate, sending rounds slamming into him and several bystanders, not caring where their shots went.

Taylor held the man up, returning fire around his body while trying to keep an eye on Bonnie amidst the pandemonium. She had her own gun out now, apparently realizing that Taylor hadn’t been after her at all, and she put the mercs into a crossfire.

They were pushing the men back, but with people and bullets everywhere, there was no way for him to get to Bonnie, at least not without significant risk. In the distance, he could hear sirens, their sound growing louder by the second. The local authorities were on the way, and being caught in the middle of this bloodbath wouldn’t do him any favors.

Taylor looked away for a second to deal with a merc who was getting just a little too close and when he looked back again, Bonnie had disappeared. That made his decision for him. It was time to get out of here, regroup, and try to find her again.