Undercover Read Free Page B

may not even make it that far, if El Lobo is on to you. You’ve got five minutes. You know what you have to do.” Pablo hesitated for an endless beat and glared at the man in charge. His name was Bill Carter, and he was a senior special agent of the DEA. He had flown down from Washington to get him. They knew he was hotheaded, and they didn’t want any mistakes.
    “And if I quit and walk out of here and go back?”
    “You’ll be dead by tonight, and so will the girl. The only thing that might save her is your getting the hell out now. Does she know?” Pablo shook his head miserably. “You know the deal. You can’t destroy everything you’ve built by going back now.” Pablo knew that too. Other operatives like him were planted throughout Raul’s operation. If he was marked now, he was liable to blow their cover too. He had to get out. But it nearly killed him to leave Paloma, with their baby days from being born. He would never see the baby now, and possibly not Paloma ever again. He had known that all along, that inevitably this day would come. He just thought he would have more time with them, and that maybe he could get her to safety one day. It had been a futile dream. He knew that now.
    “I have a life here,” he said sadly.
    Bill Carter spoke with compassion. “We all did when we were undercover. I was in for seven years. That’s a long time. You’ve got to get ready.” He handed him a small kit.
    Pablo hesitated for an instant before taking it from him and heading to the bathroom. He thought about climbing out the window and going back, but he knew how many men would be killed if he did, and his getting killed himself wouldn’t help Paloma either. He had no choice, he knew, as he took out the razor, and shaved his beard and his head. He put some dark makeup under his eyes, which aged him instantly. There was theatrical makeup, which allowed him to create a long ugly scar down one cheek, and contact lenses, which changed the color of his eyes. They had left clothes for him in the bedroom, similar to theirs, with a baseball cap, and as Pablo dressed, all he could think of was Paloma at the camp. It was inconceivable to him that he would never see her again, and he was determined to return. He would find her wherever she was, and do whatever it took to bring her home with him. But for now, he knew there was no way out. He had to leave.
    As he emerged from the bedroom of the small apartment, looking like a different person, one of the men handed him his passport with his real name, Marshall Everett, and the badge he hadn’t carried for three years, as a special agent of the DEA. The Drug Enforcement Administration had placed him in Colombia three years earlier, and for three years in Ecuador before that, to set up his identity for El Lobo’s operation. The three men were standing, each carrying a shoulder bag, and they were ready to leave. They wanted him in the air and out of the country within the hour, before all hell broke loose and Raul sent his men after Pablo.
    The man who had been Pablo Echeverría for six years of diligent undercover work said not a word as he followed them down the stairs to the car parked discreetly outside. He got into the backseat, and looked out the window in agony as Bogotá slid by. All he had to do was make a run for it, get to the Jeep, and drive back to camp, but he knew that if he did, the whole undercover operation would come down around their ears and other men would die.
    They drove swiftly toward the airport, showed their badges to security, and boarded a small military plane that was waiting for them.
    Security didn’t look closely at any of them, and moments later they were in the air on the plane heading to Washington. There was a terrible unreality to it, as Pablo, now Marshall Everett again, watched the countryside shrink below them, knowing that the woman he loved was still there and he had just abandoned her. The only thing that reassured him was that she