Dana Marton (4 page)

He stayed silent.

“Some orders need to be questioned.”

She’d never met the Colonel. “Maybe you question too much,” he said.

“We should go back for them right now.” Her voice had a lot of steel in it.

Something told him Kate had toughened up a lot since he’d last seen her. Or maybe that core of steel had been there all along, and he’d just never seen it because he’d been too busy running from one mission to the next, never having enough time for her, always leaving her behind.

No wonder she had walked out.

He watched her in the dim light and fought against the tide of emotions.
No regrets.
Not now. He walled off the memories. They could reminisce once they got out of this hellhole.

But first he had to placate her and gain her cooperation. Her cooperation! He was here to save her, dammit. She was supposed to jump into his arms, misty with gratitude. If he’d had more time, he would have spent a moment or two enjoying that fantasy.

“How about this? I’ll neutralize as many rebels on our way out as I can, evening the odds for the hostages whom we are
temporarily
leaving behind.” Even though a silent exit would have been by far preferable and had been specifically requested by the Colonel. “I’ll do whatever I can for the hostages on our way out as long as it doesn’t put you in jeopardy. That’s non-negotiable.”

She looked around thoughtfully, as if taking stock of the basement, then back at him. “We bring the hostages down here. They can barricade themselves until help comes. There’s only one entrance to the basement. The rebels might not even find them down here by the time the building is taken back. Nobody gets killed because of me. That’s non-negotiable.”

She was managing the problem.

She was insane. And yet, the plan did have some merit. And damn, but he liked her pluck. Always had. He’d always liked everything about her.

All they had to do was go back up to the second floor where the gym was and make sure the hostages got to the coal chute without being seen. The hostages would come down, Kate and he would go up the two extra floors to the roof. They had to pass through the second floor anyway. Once they were at the gym, they’d be halfway to their destination.

Lightning cracked outside. He thought he heard rain.

“Deal,” he said.

August 10, 01:57

“H
OW DID
you get in?” Kate asked half an hour later—they’d searched the basement inch by inch to make sure there really wasn’t another exit—pretty happy about getting her way. It wasn’t every day that Parker McCall yielded to someone.

“Through the roof.” He stood at the top of the staircase, pulled out his cell phone, opened it, then swore briefly. “Doesn’t work down here.”

He looked a lot cleaner than ten minutes ago. They had spent some time brushing soot off their clothes, off each other. That had been a picnic and a half. She’d just about jumped out of her skin when he touched her. It had taken everything she had not to let him see that he could still affect her with as little as a brush of his knuckles.

“Through the roof how?”

“From the next building. The rebels heavily secured the main entrances. Can’t get in or out through there without a major fight. They were focused on that when I got here, hadn’t gotten to securing the roof yet. I’m sure that has been done by now, but we’ll fight our way out if we have to.”

Fight.
Oh God. She was scared stiff. Although if anyone could get her out of here, it was Parker. Especially this new, military version.

“How many are there?”

“Two dozen, tops. They’re spread out over the four floors. Have to keep the whole building secured. They can’t spare more than a handful for the roof. And up there, it’s pitch-dark—a definite advantage.”

For Parker. She, on the other hand, was afraid of the dark, especially when it hid murderous rebels. Parker looked…almost excited, as if this was nothing but a game.

“Are you going to tell me who you really are?” she asked.

He was Parker, but not
her
Parker. Not the man she had fallen in love with. This Parker was a lot darker and infinitely more dangerous. He moved with feline grace and constant preparedness. He had shot people without blinking an eye. She still couldn’t process that.

He shrugged.

He’d always been darkly mysterious in a brooding-but-gorgeous kind of way, but now…“You—”

He had his hand over her mouth the next second, his hard body pushing her against the wall, into the shadows as he towered over her. But she didn’t feel threatened, not for a second, never with Parker. She felt protected, but she wouldn’t admit to herself just how much she had missed that. Voices filtered down from above.

They stood motionless, although since the stairs were made of stone, they didn’t have to worry about creaking wood giving them away. But she barely dared to breathe, feeling paralyzed all of a sudden, and unsure if it came from the proximity of danger or the proximity of the man who had the power to liquefy her knees.

Parker ran a calming hand down her arm, which she didn’t find calming in the least.

His skin still smelled the same—well, almost, plus hundred-year-old coal dust. On him, it smelled sexy. His body was still incredible, his lips still just as sensuous. He could still arouse her with a touch. The full-frontal contact was wreaking havoc with her senses.

And she panicked, because in her perfect little world, she had managed to convince herself that she was over him, that if they ever met again, she could walk by him without batting an eye. And here she was, assailed by such a sharp sense of longing it stole her breath away. It took all her willpower not to bury her face into the base of his throat and lap at the warm, smooth skin she knew she would find there.

The voices faded.

He didn’t move.

And she didn’t want him to.

No.
Not again. She couldn’t fall for him again. He had never truly loved her. He couldn’t have. He had left her every chance he’d had. He had lied to her about things. She was pretty sure about that. She didn’t want to think how many nights she’d lain awake wondering about where he was.

The two of them together spelled disaster, she reminded herself and pushed him away. Maybe with a little more force than was strictly necessary.

“Easy,” he said, watching her with his usual unsettling intensity, as if trying to puzzle out her thoughts.

Not if she could help it. She stepped away from the wall. “Let’s go.”

He moved away from her with some reluctance. “I’ll pick the lock, you see what else you can find here that we could use.”

She moved around him and set to the task.

The opposite wall of the staircase was lined with metal shelves. He already had a length of inch-wide nylon rope twisted around his waist that he had found, and a small screwdriver in his hand that he had gotten from the giant four-feet-by-four-feet toolbox near the bottom of the stairs.

The basement was used by the Russians as a storage facility. It held everything from broken office furniture to security supplies and crowd-control posts, even a crate of sea salt in one-kilo bags.

She opened an oil-stained box and rummaged through it. “What are we looking for exactly?”

“You’ll know it when you see it,” he said. “Grab anything you think we can use.”

A lot of help he was.

But he was right. When she spotted the flashlight hanging from a peg behind the box, she took it. She was pleased to notice its metal case was heavy enough to be used as a weapon in a pinch. She flicked it on and grinned at the circle of light that appeared on the wall. “Even the battery works. Doesn’t get better than that.”

“Here we go.” He straightened.

The door stood slightly ajar. He had obviously worked some magic on the lock.

“I don’t even want to know where you learned that.”

“Of course you do.” He flashed a flat grin. “You want to know everything.”

“Fine, I do. But I’m not asking. You wouldn’t tell me, anyway.”

His mouth twitched. “Wish we had time to look around some more, but we should probably head out.” He bent his sinuous body into some SWAT-team pose.

Where had he learned that? Of course, she wasn’t about to ask that, either. Trying to pin Parker down was futile. She ought to know.

He pulled the door a little wider, peeked out then closed it again, pulling his gun up and ready to shoot.

She could hear footsteps come their way then fade into the distance.

“Is your name Parker?” she whispered, unable to take her eyes off the weapon.

He tossed her a don’t-be-stupid look that got her dander up, but then he nodded.

“You never were a foreign correspondent, were you?” Bits and pieces fell into place; a lot of things that had bewildered her in the past were making terrifying sense now.

He held her gaze. “No.”

Oh God.
“I’ve been so stupid, haven’t I?” She looked away, embarrassed that she had never figured it out. He must have thought her incredibly gullible. She’d been blinded by love and lust. She would have believed anything of him. Not until the very end had she begun to see the chinks in his armor.

“You’re one of the smartest women I know. One of the reasons why I fell in love with you.”

Her heart, her stupid, gullible heart, turned over at his words. But had he really? Had he fallen in love with her, or had he been using her as some kind of a cover? He was a spy or a secret agent or something. He would probably say anything to have her cooperation so he could carry out his current mission successfully. She’d do well to remember that.

But it was difficult to remember anything when he put a hand on her shoulder. She shrugged it off. She didn’t need to be further confused by the way his touch had made her feel. She hadn’t been able to forget that, or anything else about him. Not for a single day, not even when she had dated other men.

“We’d better get going,” she said, trying hard to shake off the sharp sense of unreasonable longing that hit her out of the blue.

She needed to think about the hostages instead of Parker. They had to get to the gym before some rebels decided to check on their buddies stuck watching over the embassy staff. Every minute counted. Every minute could save a life.

He nodded slowly before he took his eyes off her and pushed the door open again. This time, the hallway must have been clear, because he stepped outside.

She followed. She had been a guest at the Russian embassy a half dozen times, but had never been in this part, wasn’t sure of the way.

After a moment, Parker glanced back at her and parted his lips as if to say something, but was prevented by the sound of gunfire coming from somewhere above.

Above and to the left. They were just coming to a T in the hallway. There had to be a way to get up there. Kate turned left and took off running.

More gunfire. It lasted longer this time. Long enough to have killed every man and woman in the gym.

“Oh, God, no.” She held the flashlight as tightly as she could, the only weapon she had, and ran faster, her heart beating its way out of her chest.

They had spent too much time arguing over what they should do. And now it was too late.

August 10, 02:38

Kate resisted as Parker caught up with her and pulled her in the opposite direction.

“You promised to help.” She tried to tug her wrist from him in vain.

“This way.” He dragged her farther in the wrong direction, away from the sound of gunfire.

So he wasn’t going to help the others. He had lied. The thought hurt, but she shook off the pain. She didn’t have time for it. Of course he had lied. Just as he had lied to her about everything else. The only surprise was that she was still stupid enough to believe him. She would have thought she had grown wiser than that. Apparently not.

She had no idea who he was anymore, what he was capable of. Yes, he had promised to help, but he had promised other things before.

She dug her heels in, aware that if he decided not to listen to her, there was nothing she could do. He could and would take her out against her will. He’d always had a powerful physique and was in the same top shape now as he’d been two years ago, if not better.

In great shape, but in a terrible mood, not at all amused that she would stand up to him. Tough. He’d better get used to it in a hurry, because she wasn’t the same woman he remembered. “We can’t leave them to their fate.”

He looked at her hard, harder than he’d ever looked at her before—scary hard. She couldn’t breathe.

“I said we wouldn’t. I don’t go back on my word.” He was practically growling.

But she obviously wasn’t as smart as she had always thought herself to be, certainly not smart enough to take heed.

“Since when?” The question slipped out before she could have stopped it. He’d sure gone back on all his promises of love in a hurry.

And how embarrassing that after two years, she still wasn’t over him, was still hung up on the past. Better make sure he didn’t figure that out. “Sorry, this isn’t about us.” She tried to dance away from the subject.

He watched her with those laser-sharp, gunmetal-gray eyes of his for a moment. “Some of it
is
about us. But we’ll have to get to that later. And we will.”

His words sounded more like a threat than a promise.

“I’m sorry, Kate,” he said then, and his face softened marginally before he looked away from her.

And damn him, her heart softened, too, which was the last thing she needed. She had to keep her wits about her.

“Why are we going in the opposite direction?” She was still suspicious.

He dragged her on. “We can’t start an open battle where we’re outnumbered twenty to one. If we do anything, it has to be guerilla warfare. Once again, here is what we are doing. I’m taking you out. Through the roof, if possible. We are going up. The hostages are on our way. I’ll get them free of their guards and help them to the basement, where they have a chance to hide out until this is over. Even if they’re found by the rebels again, they’ll have a well-defendable position and I’ll make sure they have some guns. That’s the best we can do. The two of us sneaking out of here is going to be difficult as hell. Twenty people sneaking out is impossible. If we try, everybody dies. Do you understand?”

That made sense. She gave up resisting. He looked as though he knew what he was talking about, not that she was over the shock of his commando persona yet.

“I would appreciate if you didn’t question every move I make,” he bit out as they stole along the corridor in a hurry. “Our lives could depend on split-second decisions and your split-second responses.”

“You think I’m putting us in danger by not following you blindly like some robot? Like you’ve given me reason to trust you and your almighty judgment in the past? Hardly.”

His eyes flashed thunder. “Do you really want to get into all this right now?”

Okay. No, not really. She bit her tongue. Not at all. She would just as soon see their past buried if not forgotten. “What do the rebels want, anyway?”

“Probably troop withdrawal from their republic. They’ve been fighting for autonomy for the last seven years.” He seemed to calm a little. “The violence slowed lately, since their leaders were captured, but apparently someone else has taken the helm.” He thought for a second. “Strange, really, when you think about it. Their ethnic leaders are pretty divided. Some are turning into outright warlords. Mashev and his bunch.” He shook his head.

“How on earth do you know all this?” She worked for the State Department and the Tarkmez struggle was barely a blip on her radar screen.

“CNN,” he said, bland-faced.

“Yeah, right.”

The corner of his mouth turned up in a grin.

“Not funny,” she said, breathing a little hard since they were moving at a fair speed; it had nothing to do with his smile. Nothing whatsoever. “You have no idea how much I hate it when you lie to me.”

His grin melted away, his face growing somber. “You have no idea how much I hate having to lie to you. Do us both a favor and don’t ask me any more personal questions, okay?”

He was asking a lot.

“Are they going to get it?” She asked something he wouldn’t consider personal. “Their independence?”

“Not anytime soon,” he said.

She didn’t like the sound of that. It didn’t bode well for the hostages. “How desperate are they?”

“Over a hundred thousand have been killed so far in the sporadic fighting. Women and children included.” His gaze hardened. “Carpet-bombing is not an exact science.”

God.
She’d nearly lost it at the sight of Jeff going down, and the two dead rebels back there in the gym. She couldn’t picture a hundred thousand dead. She blinked hard.

“They have nothing to lose,” he added.

“I get it.” When it came to fighting, which would probably come soon enough—either the French or the Russian government would try to get the hostages out—the battle would be savage. “Why isn’t help here yet? Didn’t anyone hear the gunshots? Didn’t anyone call the police?”

“It’s not a residential district,” he said. “Nobody is here at night. And even if they were, the weather is drowning out most of the noise.”

They turned down a hallway and rushed to the end, flattened themselves against the wall as Parker checked around the corner to make sure they wouldn’t run into anyone that way. Then they were off again.

“Where is the rest of the embassy staff? The security?” he asked.

“Some of them were killed when the building was taken. I don’t know about the rest. You think they were murdered, too?” She didn’t even want to think about that.

“Probably. The rebels wouldn’t want to leave anyone alive who might prove to be a danger later. They have the office and kitchen staff for bargaining. They would want to neutralize anyone trained to fight.” He paused for a moment. “But if we knew for sure that some of the security staff are still alive, it would be worth spending time on finding them. We could use help with the hostages.”

“If some of the security was still alive, where would they be?”

“Anywhere,” he said after some thought, never slowing down. “There could be a man or two who had avoided capture, hiding out. Or there could be a few of them in the custody of the rebels, held in a different location from the rest of the hostages. Or they all could be dead,” he added on a somber tone.

And since they were talking about missing people, another thought popped into her head, and she couldn’t believe that she had let it slip her mind earlier. “Where are the children and Tanya?”

He looked at her as if she’d gone off her rocker. “What children?”

“The ambassador and his wife have two girls. One’s five, the other’s seven. They were at the dinner. Wasn’t that in your briefing?”

He swore under his breath. “My briefing was rushed. It focused on you and on the weak points of the building. When did you see the kids last?”

“At dessert. Then Tanya took them to some rec room to play. The nanny was supposed to watch them. The whole family was supposed to go home together later,” she said miserably. But her mind was finally settling down enough to take stock of the situation. “I’m going to need a weapon.” She eyed the rifle that hung from his shoulder and the handgun tucked into his belt.

“You have the flashlight,” he said without looking back. “So there’s a nanny, too? That’s at least four civilians missing.”

“I can shoot.”

That gave him enough pause to slow and stare at her, his dark eyebrows sliding up his forehead. “Since when?”

“Since I decided to take the consul position. U.S. embassies have been known for being attacked in the past. I’ve taken some firearm courses and a few months’ worth of self-defense lessons.”

Mostly she’d done it to set her mother’s mind at ease. The consulate was in Paris, France, not in some third-world country. The worst crisis she had expected was an overdrawn credit card from too much uninhibited shopping.

For the first time, she was actually glad that she had a mother who saw doom lurking everywhere, and who had forced her to take extraordinary precautions. The only time, ever, when her mother’s paranoia had failed was with Parker. She loved the man to death. Not a word of warning there, just when Kate would have needed it most.

They came to a row of doors and he tried the first. Locked. Tried the next one and the next one, too, before he found one that was open. He moved in low, the handgun held out in front of him.

“All clear.”

She went in behind him and closed the door. They were in a large storage room with nothing but boxes and boxes of what looked like reports and printouts.

“What are we looking for?” she asked when he began stacking some boxes by the wall.

“That.” He nodded upward. “If we stay out in the open, sooner or later we’re going to get caught.”

She followed his gaze to the vent opening high up on the wall and swallowed. Another tight, dark place. She tried not to think of her great-grandmother’s tiger-maple hope chest her cousins had locked her in for two terror-stricken hours on a hot summer afternoon when she’d been six.

“You’ll be fine,” he said.

Did he remember her telling him that story? That came as a surprise. He hadn’t spent enough time at home during their year-long engagement to notice much about her. He certainly hadn’t noticed that the relationship was falling apart. But, apparently, here and there on the odd occasion, he had actually paid attention.

“I’ll be fine,” she agreed, because she had no other choice. Whatever happened, she wasn’t going to freak out, mess things up and jeopardize the lives of others.

Parker climbed his stack and had the cover off in seconds. He pulled himself up, half disappeared inside, then slid back out and dropped to the top of the boxes again. “Come on.” He extended an arm to her.

She took it and ignored his hands moving lower on her body as he helped her to inch higher and squeeze in. The space seemed insanely small and devoid of air. She closed her eyes for a moment to calm herself. Parker’s shoulders were much wider than hers. If he fitted, she had no reason to fear that she would be stuck. And there was air, there really was, she just couldn’t draw it as long as fear constricted her lungs. All would be well as soon as she relaxed.

She inched forward, fighting the instinct to back out. And a few moments later Parker came up behind her. A barely audible rattle told her that he had put the vent cover back in place.

She swallowed, sweat beading on her forehead.
We aren’t really locked in. We aren’t locked in.
There had to be a hundred vent openings all over the building. A good kick and they could come out anywhere. She fought her panic with cold logic and won after a few seconds, then moved on, appreciating the fact that Parker hadn’t said a word, hadn’t rushed her.

“I’m going to be fine,” she said again.

“I know.” His hand came up from behind, pushing something her way. “Here, you take this.”

The handgun.

She made sure the safety was on then slid it into her waistband. So he was going to treat her like a partner. That was certainly new. Maybe he had changed since they had parted ways. Yeah, and maybe pigs flied. In formation. At the Millville Wheels & Airshow he was so fond of.

She flicked on her flashlight, illuminating the dark passage ahead, not wanting to contemplate a new and possibly improved Parker. The old Parker had been enough to make her fall head over heels in love, had been enough to break her heart. She didn’t want to think what damage he could do the second time around.

They hadn’t crawled a full minute before Parker said, “Incoming call,” behind her.

She stopped.

“Sir, we heard some shots from the north end of the building about five minutes ago. I also have information that the ambassador’s children are in the building. Can you give us a location for the rec room?” he asked the caller. Then he listened before he swore under his breath. “The Colonel would like to speak to you,” he said at last and handed the phone to her.

“This is Kate Hamilton.”

“Glad to hear that you’re well, Ms. Hamilton,” a deep voice said without identifying himself. “I have my best man in there. You just do what he says. He’s going to get you out as fast as possible.”

Parker was the best man on his team? Well, he always was good at whatever he did. Except for the whole commitment thing.

“He’ll take care of you,” the man on the other end of the line continued.

“What is your plan for the other hostages?”

“The other hostages are not our responsibility. We have to trust them to the Russian forces.”

“Who might be too late?”

“Ms. Hamilton—”

She cut the man off, not liking the tone he was taking. He might have been some military expert, but he wasn’t here, hadn’t seen the faces of those hostages. “If I see people about to be killed and there’s a chance I might be able to help them that makes them my responsibility.”

“Ms. Hamilton—”

“I do appreciate your sending Parker, though. We’ll be out as soon as we can.” She closed the phone and handed it to Parker, who was grinning like a kid at the circus, his face partially illuminated by the flashlight.