PART 2
Mack never broke stride as he passed Teresa Pickney, strike that, Teresa Alvarado he corrected himself. She'd had to drop her married name when she'd gone undercover. Wearing a flounced peasant skirt and embroidered white cotton blouse, her wavy long, black hair pulled back with a carved wooden clip, she looked every bit a native of the area. He reentered her building behind a young woman who gave him only a cursory glance as she left the stairway on the second floor. After scanning the hallway, Mack strode to the end of the hallway and checked for a fire escape at the open window. No go there—and a long way down. Hearing footsteps and the grating metallic sound of a key inserted into a lock, he made his way back down the hall and caught the closing door in time to slip in unnoticed.
"Well, despite whatever circumstances brought you here, it's good to see you, Mack."
"You, too," he said. Her husband, Daniel Pickney, had been a member of Alpha team, and Mack's closest friend, before being killed on a mission five years ago. After his death, Teresa had left her position in the TOC to go back to work for the CIA, living as a local in a foreign country providing information to the agency.
Even knowing the memories the sight of him invoked, he reached out and pulled her close to him for a comforting embrace.
"You look tired. And dirty," she said, studying him after pulling back just a bit. She reached a hand up and winced slightly as she touched his cut and bruised cheek. "Why don't you shower up while I fix you something to eat. You can give me a sit-rep after that."
He started to protest, then thought better of it. She'd benefit from him having a clear head and he'd come here for a reason. He could trust her to help him get home safely.
The apartment was small, but nice by South American standards. A large open room served as the living area: kitchen with a small table, a desk combined with a rough hewn book case filled the wall, a love seat sat against the other wall where a door opened to the bedroom. "Thanks," he said simply, allowing himself to start to relax. He disappeared through the door to the tiny bath and turned the water on before stripping off his clothes.
He found a clean towel put out for him when he turned the water off feeling much better ten minutes later. Sniffing the air, he could smell the mouthwatering aroma of food cooking and redressed quickly. Standing at the stove, Teresa looked him over with a warm smile and motioned for him to have a seat at the table where two glasses of wine were already poured.
"You look good. How's life treating you down here?"
"I could complain, but I won't. It could certainly be worse. You want to tell me what kind of trouble you're in?" She didn't expect full details, but she did need to know what he needed to make a plan to get him out of here, even if selfishly she wanted him here a little longer.
Mack outlined what he could of the mission as she finished cooking and placed warm tortillas on the table and set the skillet with seasoned grilled peppers, onions and chicken in the middle. She moved back to the stove and carried a pot of rice over, generously heaping some onto his plate while Mack scooped some of the pepper mixture onto two tortillas. She listened closely as he talked, her eyebrows rising at the mention of the leaving Ortiz's body in the truck on the beach. Obviously, she recognized the name, which she should, considering why she was here in the first place.
"Well you did the world a favor," she commented as she poured him some more wine, scrutinizing his face. "But word will get out so we'll have to work a little magic." She rose and vanished into the bedroom and Mack could hear the open and closing of the bathroom cabinet doors. She emerged carrying a bottle, cotton balls and tube of ointment.
He rolled his eyes as she set them down on the table and cleared his plate. "You don't need to do that. I'll be fine," Mack insisted, even as she soaked a cotton ball and ignored his protest, touching it to his cut creating a stinging sensation. She dabbed the ointment on next, her fingers a gentle caress against his skin.
A knock at her door interrupted them. She glanced quickly toward the door. Mack shook his head, "Don't answer it."
"If it's someone looking for you, they'll come in anyway." She spoke softly, motioning him to the bedroom as she headed to the door.
Mack glanced around the bedroom sizing up what he could use as a weapon if needed, wishing there'd been a knife on the kitchen table. Keeping an ear out, he heard Teresa speaking fluent Spanish with what sounded like two children. She closed the door seconds later and appeared in the bedroom's doorway.
"Just my neighbors," she explained. "They come over and we watch American TV shows to practice their English. Why don't you get some sleep while I get to work?"
She'd indicated the bed but Mack glanced at it, not saying a word. There was only one full-sized bed in the apartment. "I don't want to put you out."
She suppressed a laugh. "Take the bed for now. This could take a while. I can wake you later to fill you in."
Mack grasped her hand. "You're too good to me. Appreciate it." He pressed a brief kiss to her temple. Mack was accustomed to being in charge, making plans to take care of himself, but also knew how to follow orders. After nearly five years imbedded in the local culture, Teresa had the know-how and connections to help him accomplish his current mission—to get back to Fort Griffith.
"We're family, Mack. And I get paid to boot. Time I earn my keep." It had taken nearly three years for her to work her way up to a job that gave her access to more useful information, like the comings and goings of key drug cartel members and their associates. This was only the second time she'd been called on to provide assistance as a safe house. The other being a CIA agent who'd needed a new forged passport and slight makeover. Mack provided more of a challenge considering the authorities and drug cartel would be looking for him.
She heard him moving about the bedroom then the creak of the bedsprings as he climbed into her bed while she put the dishes in the sink to soak. Turning on her computer she entered the encrypted passcodes for the day. She accessed the daily updates for her area of the world, not liking what she was seeing. The body had been found and authorities already had a decent composite sketch of Mack. No doubt the drug cartel did too and would be looking to avenge Ortiz's death.
Two hours later, Teresa had garnered all the information currently available and outlined a plan that she was satisfied with. She picked up her fanny pack and hurried from the apartment to get to the business district before the shops closed. On her way, she worked on the plan's details in her head, stopping to make a call from a pay phone.
She returned just over an hour later and went to the bedroom where she saw Mack, sleeping soundly in her bed. A stab of pain gripped her as she remembered Daniel, still feeling the ache of losing him. And a deep loneliness. She thought of Tiffy, Lissy and Jen. I'll get you home safe, Mack, she vowed. She couldn't bring herself to wake him; he wasn't going anywhere tonight anyway.
After readying herself for bed, she pulled back the sheet and slid into the bed. Mack opened his eyes taking only a second to remember where he was. He began to move to get out of the bed; however, she laid her hand over his arm.
"Hey. You want me to—"
"Stay—please." She hated sounding so pathetic. "I don't…" She didn't want him to misunderstand. "There's no reason we can't share the bed as long as you promise not to hog the covers."
Mack understood. He turned and resituated himself, allowing her to snuggle closer. She was a beautiful woman but her job made any romantic relationship a complication and risk she couldn't afford. He couldn't imagine how she managed the isolation. The image of Tiffy with Tom Ryan forced itself to the forefront of his thoughts and Mack felt his body tense in anger. It would be so easy to reach out to Teresa now. But she was a friend. She trusted him not to take advantage of the opportunity their current situation provided. And with her not knowing about Tiffy's affair—Mack tried to suppress the rage that rose again at the thought—Teresa would be the one feeling guilty if anything happened between them. He swallowed hard, closed his eyes and kept his hands to himself.
Teresa allowed herself to pretend the warm, hard body against hers was Daniel as she listened to Mack's steady breathing as he drifted back to sleep.