A Lover's Betrayal

Chapter One

When I was a little girl, my father was stationed at a naval base in Cartagena, Colombia. I was ten years old at the time, a New York-born American city girl with dark skin, loose brown curls, and an Americanized fluency in Spanish. My father had been born in Colombia to a Dominican American woman and a Colombian American father who had been in the military too. It was there where I had met her. Her father was stationed at the same military base, and on weekends they would rent a boat together and take us out to El Valle where we would spend the weekend exploring the jungles and waterfalls just beyond the Playa Larga while they gambled, played pool, and drank beer. This went on for six years, and then one day, just after her sixteenth birthday she was gone. The rumor had been that her father had lost big at a poker game and had to leave town immediately, but I always knew that was only partly true. And now, faced with seeing her again after twenty years, I didn't know how I felt. Especially under these circumstances.

It all started a little over a year ago. My supervisor, Oscar Saboya, called me into his office and closed the door. I knew that meant I was going to be given an assignment, and with the door closed it suggested something significant. He was dressed in a black suit with a white dress shirt like one of the Men in Black with his black hair high, and tight, and he spoke with just a hint of a Spanish accent. He was an average aged man, that was average looking, and that stood at an average height. Everything about this man was average, and I often wondered how he ended up with the job he had when there were more qualified agents, myself included, out there.

"Come in. Sit down, agent," he said as I took the seat across from him in front of his desk.

"How have you been? Debriefed from your last assignment finally?"

"Yes, sir. Ready for whatever else the Bureau has in store for me."

"Good, I'm glad to hear that. You grew up in Colombia right?"

"Yes, sir. My father was a Navy Seal stationed at one of the Naval bases there when I was ten. We moved back to New York eight years later."

"So you're familiar with the area, the language?"

"It's been a while, but yes sir. I am fluent in Spanish, French, and Italian and I spent a great deal of time in Cartagena, Bogotá, Medellín, and in the jungles of the Chocó Pacific region."

"You are also familiar with a Stef Foster are you not?"

My heart suddenly stops beating, and my breath gets caught in my throat. My mouth drops open at the mention of a name that I haven't heard spoken in over twenty years. Not since that night.

"I was," I say as I'm finally able to get words to come out of my mouth. "A very long time ago."

"Stef Foster, also known as Stef Avellaneda, also known as La novia pálida."

"Wait, what?" I asked taken aback by this piece of information. Stef? Married to the leader of such a ruthless cartel? There's no fucking way. I cross and uncross my legs before crossing them again, and I'm finding nearly impossible to sit still in my seat as I try to process this.

"Also known as the wife of the leader of Colombia's most powerful cartel, Miguel Avellaneda who is also known as El Fantasma because no one has seen or heard from him in over ten years."

"Why are you telling me this?"

"We're going to need you to go in for your next assignment, gather some intel. We are looking for evidence that The Ghost is dead and someone else is in charge, namely Antonio Jimenez or Stef Avellaneda."

"Just out of curiosity though, why me?"

"You are our best agent, Lena. You know this. And you have a personal connection to the target."

"I haven't seen her in over twenty years though."

"The Bureau did some research into your past, and from what they were able to find you shouldn't have any trouble getting back into her good graces. If anything she will be happy to see you."

He looks at me with an icy glare, and I stare back at him just as coldly. There's an arrogance to the way he says this about me, and it takes everything I have to tell him it's none of his fucking business. Especially when it comes to her, but I just bite my tongue and nod tightly.

"Your briefing begins next week, and you'll be in the field by March with me as your contact person. Good luck, agent."