Show No Fear Read Free Page A

turned to James. “And this is Navy SEAL Lieutenant James Augustus Atwater, otherwise known as Gus.”
    Gus?
mused Lucy. Apparently, he had reverted to his middle name. It suited his transformation, she decided.
    “Gus and Lucy, I want you to meet Carlos Santos, director of human rights with the United Nations. At least, that’s his cover,”
     Gordon amended. “He’s with CESID, the Spanish military intelligence service.”
    “
Un placer,
” professed the Spaniard, bowing slightly over Lucy’s fingers. “I hear you studied in Valencia while in college,
señorita,
” he said, turning back to Lucy after shaking Gus’s hand.
    “Yes, I did.” Her first experience with terror, a roadside bomb that’d killed three friends and dozens of others, had persuaded
     her to join the CIA after graduation.
    “I have family in the area. I myself am from Andalucía,” he added, unaware of the memories splintering her thoughts.
    “Carlos is going to be working with the two of you on a special project,” Gordon interrupted, recapturing Lucy’s attention
     and gesturing to the briefing table. “Let’s all take a seat. Did you want any coffee first, Lucy? Gus?”
    They both demurred, facing off across the table as the others took seats around them. Glancing at James’s—
Gus
’
s
—expression, Lucy found it shuttered, unreadable.
    “Lucy, I think I told you last year that the Navy lets us borrow Gus from time to time,” Gordon recollected, sliding an envelope
     marked top secret in front of her.
    “Yes, sir,” she affirmed. It was hard to get her mind around it. James, who should have been an architect, had become one
     of the most dangerous men on earth.
    “You and he will be working on a common assignment,” he continued, confirming her earlier guess. “I assume the names Mike
     Howitz and Jay Barnes ring a bell?”
    “Of course.” Howitz and Barnes had been Lucy’s colleagues, case officers like her who’d been assigned to Venezuela. In the
     coup last year, they’d been captured by Colombian terrorists, Las Fuerzas Armarias de Colombia, who’d come across the border
     at San Cristobal and abducted them.
    The FARC, who called themselves advocates for the common man, processed and sold cocaine, terrorized villagers, and ransomed
     hostages to fund their forty-year-old rebellion against the Colombian government.
    Lucy had assumed her colleagues were doomed.
    The U.S. did not negotiate with terrorists. America had stubbornly ignored the FARC’s demands to release Commander Gitano,
     one of their top political prisoners. Locked in a stalemate with the U.S. government, the FARC might hold Mike and Jay indefinitely,
     unless some neutral party like the Red Cross stepped in to mediate…
    “The United Nations is sponsoring a team to spearhead negotiations for their release,” Gordon announced, his words mirroring
     Lucy’s thoughts. He nodded at the Spaniard. “Mr. Santos is one of the UN volunteers, along with a Frenchman, an Italian, a
     Turk, and two more Spaniards.” He divided an enigmatic look between Lucy and Gus. “That’s going to be your cover,” he added.
    Lucy glanced at Gus and found him frowning at her boss.
    “Gus just completed Spanish-language school at the Farm. Lucy speaks fluent Spanish and is familiar with the culture,” Gordon
     added. “We have a liaison agreement with the CESID, who are the only folks who’ll know your true identity.”
    Lucy glanced at the dark-eyed Spaniard, who sent her an encouraging smile.
    “Here’s the cruncher,” Gordon added, recapturing her attention. “We don’t have much time to prepare. You’ll need to fly into
     Bogotá on Monday,” he announced.
    Monday? Then she wouldn’t have to step foot in paperwork hell ever again. She’d been hankering for an assignment for months
     now, so why wasn’t she experiencing a powerful victory rush? Was she picking up on Gus’s reticence to work with her? Or did
     she have doubts that she’d made a