Ice Woman Assignment Read Free Page A

find out how this stuff’s getting distributed.”
    â€œYour people on the street can’t find these boys?” Felicity asked.
    â€œYou don’t know about the organization pushing these drugs up from Colombia,” Alvarez said. “They are called the Escorpionistas, and they demand incredible loyalty. Like the Yakuza in Japan, or the Triads out of Hong Kong, these people defend their security with their lives. We’ve been at them for a couple of years but we just can’t break in.”
    â€œYou don’t know enough about them,” Morgan said.
    â€œYou’re right,” Conrad said, “but we know a little about you two.” He picked up a brochure from the small table. Its glossy cover said “Stark & O’Brien, Security and Risk Management Services.”
    â€œPretty complete services,” Conrad continued, opening the pamphlet. “VIP close protection, surveillance, counter-terrorism, hotel and corporate security, conference guards, even security training according to this. And your rep supports it all. Barton convinced me you might have achance at finding something out. But we wanted to meet you before we agreed to bring you in.”
    â€œBarton also told us a little about the events involving the ill-fated Piranha project,” Alvarez added. “It looks like you can work with the government, and the bad guys don’t spot you as good guys. Perhaps you can get us a name. Just a starting point to track back to the woman at the top of this organization.”
    Felicity looked up, her interest piqued. “Woman?”
    â€œAnaconda,” Barton said. “And that’s all you get until you say yes or no.”

-3-
    â€œI’m just too damned dedicated to the cause,” Barton thought, feeling sand slide down into his shoes. A warm desert breeze flapped back his blazer, flashing his waist holster.
    He had not told Alvarez or Conrad that he had been Felicity’s lover since the Piranha affair. When in Los Angeles, he spent nights at her penthouse apartment. Most times he could count on a leisurely morning in bed with her. However, this morning she had dragged him out early. They had picked up Morgan and his friend at Morgan’s apartment. Felicity had let Barton take her Nissan 350ZX after dropping them off and sent him back to the hotel room the CIA was paying for. She wanted Anaconda’s dossier before noon, and she planned too spend the morning in the air.
    Sand whipped across his cheeks. He tried to ignore his stinging eyes and focus on his goal, a blanket on the edge of the flat basin he trekked across. A stone at each corner pinned the wide, Indian print affair down. A slender, beautiful, black woman held down its center.
    â€œBonjour, Chuck,” Claudette Christophe said, flashing impossibly white teeth. Her black jeans and white tee shirt accented her long model’s legs and small but perfect breasts. She waved him down beside her, picked up a large jug and poured him a glass of iced tea. As she leaned in to hand him the drink he picked up the scent of her perfume which, to him, just smelled expensive.
    â€œMy name sounds funny in that Haitian accent of yours, Claudette,” Barton said, sitting. “I’ll bet living in Paris you only meet guys named `Sharles’.”
    â€œYes, and one `Chuck’ is enough for me.” She handed him a pair of binoculars and pointed over his shoulder at the sky. “Look. There they are.” Chuck turned and focused on a slow moving dot arcing across the vast blue field. A bank of cotton ball clouds rolled like tumbleweeds away from the dot. Claudette frowned, and then picked up what looked like a large walkie-talkie.
    â€œChuck just arrived,” she said.
    â€œGood,” Morgan’s voice answered. “He can gather Felicity’s pieces while you get mine. We’re going to make one more circle, then we’ll be right down.”
    â€œYou