Out of the Shadows (Falcon) (31 page)

“Thank you.”

“How have you been?”

“Let’s cut the crap, Frank. Where is Brody?”

Frank’s eyes widened.
“He’s on an assignment in Istanbul.”

“Why hasn’t he taken my calls?”

Frank lowered his head and moved to sit behind his desk. “Your father is a real pain in the ass.”

“I agree.”

“He called me when it was determined you were on the mend. The SOB told me he knew that Brody had kidnapped you. Also if he ever came near you again, he’d take down this agency.” Frank leaned back and templed his fingers. “To prove his point, he sent a butt load of lawyers in here. He was ready to file charges unless Brody agreed to the restraining order.”

“You’re kidding me, right?”
Kate asked.

Frank banged his desk. “Hell
, no, I’m not kidding. All that shit tore Brody to pieces.”

“Why would he fall for that?”

“Your signature was on the petition.”

“I didn’t sign anything.”

“The suit came from you.”

“No
, it didn’t. My father is the biggest manipulator in the world. He’s been that way all his life. You should have called his bluff, Frank.”

“How was I going to do that?” Frank a
sked. “First question out of a judge’s mouth would be ‘did your agent kidnap a CIA agent.’”

“Is that why Brody is avoiding my calls?”

Frank shrugged. “I can’t read his mind.”

“When’s he due bac
k?”

“This afternoon.”

“It’s very important he calls me. I have some information he will definitely want to hear.”

Kate left and went straight to her father’s home
. Fuming, she got out of her car and slammed the door as hard as she could. She marched into her father’s den and kicked over a chair. He stood, and his mouth fell open.

“You’re one sorry bastard,” she said.

When her father sputtered, she held her hand out like a traffic cop. “Shut up. Don’t say a word to me. Not ever. Don’t tell me you were doing it for my own good. Don’t say you were trying to protect me. Do not do it, Dad.”

She left the room, went
upstairs, and packed a bag. Her father waited at the bottom landing for her. She pushed past him and left her father’s house. Shoving the car into reverse, she squealed out of the driveway and drove to her own home.

The place was musty and in need of a
good dusting, but it felt good to be home again. Never would her father have the chance to direct her life.

She opened the refrigerator and took out a Diet Coke. When she turned around, Brody stood in the doorway. He looked wonderful. More handsome than she remembered. God
, she’d missed him.

Her heart fluttered in her chest.
“Hi,” she said.

“Frank said your father put out that restraining order.”

“He did. I wouldn’t do that. I don’t want to be away from you ever again, not for as long as I live.”

Brody took o
ne step forward, and Kate ran the rest of the way. She kissed him and tasted his wonderful sweetness. Something she’d missed for so long. His scent kicked her hormones into over-drive, and Kate wanted him so badly she ached.

Finally th
ey broke apart. “I thought you might die.”

“I thought I would to
o. But not seeing you hurt more than two bullets to the chest.” Kate said.

“You know I would
’ve been there.”

“I know,” she whispered.

“I’ll always be there, Kate, if you’ll let me.” He brushed her blond hair back behind her ears.

She stepped away but continued holding his hand
. “I have something I want you to see.”

His brows wrinkled. “What?”

“Years ago I had a snitch who kept telling me he’d witnessed a murder. I never believed him and kind of blew him off. Then this FBI guy, Taylor, took me to the gravesite one of his guys on death row mentioned.”

“Okay,” Brody said.

Leading Brody to the sofa where she’d tossed her purse, she reached in and pulled out the plastic bag. Taking a deep breath, she held out the time piece. “Does this watch look familiar?”

Brody opened
the bag and emptied the watch into his palm. Fingering the small latch, the case opened to reveal a picture of him, his two sisters, and his mother. “This belonged to my dad. We bought it for him the Christmas before he disappeared.”

“Brody, your father was murder
ed.” She touched his arm. “The story we’ve got so far says he tried to stop a woman from being killed.”

“My dad did that?”

“We finally found the woman. She verified the story.” Kate ran her hand up and down his arm. “Your father didn’t leave his family. He’d was killed trying to defend a helpless woman.”

“My mom...”

“The body will have to be identified. But at least now he can have a proper burial.”

“Where is he?”

“Coroner’s Office in Fort Worth.”

He handed her back the evidence, knowing it would be a part of the investigation.
A mixture of emotions crossed his features. “I never imagined.”

“I’m glad you know he didn’t just leave you and your family. He loved you and was only doing what any decent person would
’ve done.”

“I need to contact my mother,” Brody said, rubbing t
he back of his neck. “My sisters too.” He blinked back tears. “You have no idea what this means to my family.”

“Let me know if I can help.”

He kissed her briefly then left. Emptiness encased Kate, leaving her alone and adrift. She knew Brody would come back when his head was straight. She only hoped that wouldn’t take forever.

***

Kate had just turned off the lights and sat on the edge of her bed, when she heard a noise. She took her gun from beneath the pillow and moved up against the wall, waiting.

The m
uffled sound of footsteps crept through the living room, and then onto the wooden planks leading toward her bedroom. Kate turned and braced herself in the doorway. “Asshole,” she shouted. “I’m a federal agent, and I’m armed.”

“No shit
, Sherlock.” Brody’s voice carried through the quiet house.

Kate lowered the gun and grinned. “I should shoot you, you know.”

He reached for her and pulled her against his chest. “I know, but you won’t.”

“Can’t you just knock?”

He held her by the shoulders and looked down at her. “Now, how romantic would that be?”

“Excuse me?”

“This is kind of a repeat of the first time we met.”

Kate laughed. “Oh please, don’t remind me of that.”

“How about I remind you of a promise I made?”

“Promise?”

“Yeah, that tropical get away where we can get to know each other better.”

Her eyes widened. “I do remember that.”

Brody grinned, slipped an envelope from his pocket, and waved it in the air. “Well, I’ve got the tickets. Our flight leaves at eight in the morning.”

“I have to check with my boss and...”

“Screw it. Let Zoe take care of everything.
I love you, Kate. Do you want to get married on a beach?”

“Married?”
Oh my God
!

He took something else from his pocket, “
I also bought this.”

It was a small, black velvet box
, and Kate knew what was inside. Her heart sped up, her stomach churned and breathing became impossible. “Are you doing what I think you’re doing?”

Brody shrugged. “I don’t
want to be too predictable. But yeah. Will you marry me, Kate Stone?”

She felt her whole world expand and along with that, love seared her heart so deeply
she felt the warm presence of hope.

“You’re pretty sure of yourself,” she said, with a smile. “I mean, the beach, the wedding, the ring. Kind of blows a girl away.”

Brody leaned down and nibbled her bottom lip. “My back up plan was to just kidnap you.”

She laughed. “Oh no
, once was enough. We’re doing this my way. All you have to do is ask, and I’ll gladly marry you, Brody Hawke.

Brody put the ring on her finger and kissed her with all the love and pass
ion she’d ever hoped for. When Brody had broken into her home and kidnapped her four months ago, how could she have ever imagined she’d be here now, in his arms and soon to be his wife?

Her mother’
s dying words came back to her as she had cradled her mother’s hand while cancer chipped away at her body, her mom had whispered last one night, “Love always waits in the shadows.”

Bonus: A sneak peek at the next Falcon book:

Out Of The Night

Abby Williams shuddered as she marched down the bleak corridor of Lubyanka Square in the old KGB building that rained terrow in the hearts and minds of every Russian citizen. Not a good place for an American to be.

The grim surroundings of peeling plaster
, grimy, gray cinderblock walls and dim light shrouded her like body bag. A worn strip of unpainted concrete, created by thousands of footsteps, ran the center of the passageway.

A chubby Russian guard named Boris Gurov,
ushered Abby to cell block number five where the Federal Security Service of Russia held Falcon Securities agent, Tony Archuletta prisoner.

Her escort stood two inches shorter than her five feet nine and out weighted her by a good hundred pounds. His dull brown hair appeared greasy, thin and in need of washing. She inwardly shivered when his beady little eyes gobbled her up like a late lunch. After getting a whiff of his foul breath, she decided to keep her distance.
Didn’t Russians believe in brushing or was there a shortage of toothpaste?

The hollow echoes of their footsteps, along with the chilling sound of keys clipped to a
braided steel chain fastened to Boris’s waist, pulled the hears on the back of her neck.. The belt struggled to hold the guard’s stomach within the waistband of his uniform pants.

Abby planned to keep him so busy
checking her out to notice the obvious. Her didn’t wear a military issued garb, her shoes were Nine West and the papers on the clipboard in her hand were blank. To solidify the charade, Abby flashed the guard a cheesy smile and hoped he didn’t wet his pants.

Boris eyed her carefully arranged cleavage.
“So where are you taking the prisoner?” Boris asked in Russian.

“I have orders to take him to GRU headquarters where he is to undergo further interrogation.”

The tubby guard grunted and puffed out his chest. “The Aquarium. That will do you no good. I know this American. Nothing can break him.”

“I have never seen a man who could not be made to talk.”

Abby stopped at the appropriate cell, pivoted into a military turn and faced the prisoners. She kept her features calm, her demeanor cool and eyes focused. Looking inside she wondered how the Russian government got away with treating human beings like animals.

The stench of the place alone could gag a cockroach. Those poor bastards housed behind the steel bars looked more like prisoners of war than the everyday run-of-the- mill criminals.

“Tony Archuletta step forward,” she commanded.

Falcon Securities CEO, Frank Hamilton, had sent her to retrieve one of their own from the Russians before he broke under interrogations.

Their plan was simple. She’d dress like a Russian military officer, put him in the car and deliver him to the American Embassy. A simple snatch and grab.

As a reporter, Abby wouldn’t normally do this kind of thing, but she wanted a look inside Lubyanka and they didn’t give walking tours in this area.

She’d actually been in England when her boss called with the assignment. The mission originally fell to a female Falcon agent, but she’d been shot during a clandestine assignment. Not fatally, but enough to take her out of action for a few days.

When the men in the cell
continued to ignore her, Abby allowed her eyes to search the faces of the captive men. She counted four and they all looked ghastly. They were covered with filthy open sores, their bodies malnutrition, and wearing little more than rags. Abby choked back a sob of anguish at the horrific conditions the poor men suffered.

H
er gaze fell upon the man she’d come to rescue. Her heart sped up and her breathe froze in her throat. Hunger, excitement and longing rose up in her. She hadn’t seen him in eighteen months, two weeks and three days, but it felt like two lifetimes.

His dark steely gray eyes cut deeply, holding her
hostage while she struggled to keep calm.

Maybe he was just being clever. At l
east she hoped. But this act of his disturbed her. Still no one could play a role than Tony. A t thirty-two, he was practically a legend.

If he’d recognized her, he knew enough to play along, and not blow the mission.

“He does not understand Russian?” Abby asked, knowing Archuletta was a linguist expert.

“He understands everything. He is just being a shithead. That is all.” The guard took out his wooden stick and slapped it across the bars. “Don’t make me come and get you, Archuletta.”

The other cellmates hunched their shoulders and slowly crept away as if distance might save them from the guard’s brutality. Even sitting, the Falcon agent appeared taller than the others. Predatory and dangerous, he looked mean and hard. Bare to the waist and dirty, he still had a warrior’s bearing.

A chill raced down Abby’s
spine and her skin prickled. The air around them slowed and the noise faded away. She hadn’t seen him in so long, yet nothing in her heart had changed. She blinked back tears. Especially her feelings.

On the opposite side of the bars Archuletta slowly came to his feet. He snarled like a wild animal then spat at the guard.

Red faced, Boris backed up then put his hand on the gun in his hip holster. “Do that again and I will kill you.”

The prisoner stood unfazed by the threat.

“We do not want him dead.” Abby quickly grabbed the guard’s arm, her blood pumping harder and faster. . We do not want him dead. Abby quickly intervened “He must be alive if we are to get anything out of him.” Had he lost his goddamn mind? Being a smart-ass, Tony could incite the guard to do something foolish.

Archuletta’s malicious gaze slid to her face
like a wolf sizing its prey. His strong, sharp features grew even harsher...cold.

A different kind of fear crawled up her back. One she’d never expected from Tony.
Swallowing, she stepped back as he looked ready to pounce.

“Come closer,” Boris ordered.

After a moment the prisoner complied and put his hands through the small square slot in the bars. He’d probably been through that drill several times. Earlier, Abby had provided Boris with her handcuffs, and he now snapped them into place around the American agent’s wrists.

“Step back,” she ordered, hoping he wouldn’t refuse. Tony moved to a safe distance. Boris’s eyes narrowed as he cautiously unlocked the door. These two had fought before and something told her Boris hadn’t fared too well.

The guard took out his revolver and entered the cell. He jabbed Archuletta in the back and nudged him out. “The FAS might want you alive, but I tell you this. You fuck with me I will blow your brains out.”

“Now, that would be a relief,” Archuletta said.

Abby grimaced at Tony’s behavior. She wished he’d quit the wise guy act and cooperate. The sooner they escaped the better.

With the prisoner leading the way, they marched up the stairs.
From behind, Abby noticed Tony still had that loose-limbed stride that bordered on a swagger. Rags and all, Tony still had the sweetest ass on earth for a guy. At the top Archuletta turned left, but the guard stopped him. “You are not going back there. The GRU has a special treat for you, my friend.”

“Yeah, and I have a
special treat
for you,
buska
.

She inwardly groaned
and yearned to smack Tony in the head. He’d just called the Russian guard a fat pig. If he kept up the wise cracks, in all likelihood, he’d get them both killed if he didn’t shut up and play along.

God the man was impossible.

“Shut up,” Abby said, before hurrying ahead to hold the door open. Boris marched the prisoner out into the cool autumn air while she trotted ahead to open the rear door of the rental car and stepped aside.

Boris kept the gun against Archuletta’s back. “Get in.”

The Falcon agent ducked and folded his long frame into the backseat, but not before sending her a glare that would ignite paper.

Boris turned to her. “Hold your gun on him until I get him buckled in. He makes a wrong move, kill the son of a bitch.”

“Of course,” she replied quickly. Abby licked her dry lips hoping Boris didn’t notice her eagerness to leave.

When they were alone, Abby would have a few choice words she planned to bestow on Agent Archu
letta and she didn’t plan to hold back. As she pulled out her gun, the Falcon agent gave her a look of disgust.

Well, thank you, too.

After straightening, Boris slammed the door and turned to her. “I get off in two hours. If you have the prisoner transported by then maybe we could go for a drink.”

It was hard, but Abby managed to keep a straight face as she slid behind the steering wheel and started the engine. “I’m working the late shift.” She waved and smiled. “Maybe some other time.”

Instead of waiting for a reply, she gunned the engine and backed out of the parking space hoping they’d get away before someone figured out their deception. Then they’d be back in Lubyanka Prison and she didn’t think the officials would show them any mercy.

It had rained earlier and the tires squealed
on the wet pavement as she sped across the designated parking area and on the main street.

Abby turned right toward Red Square
and merged with the normal daily commuter. After several minutes she searched for an isolated place where she could remove Tony’s handcuffs. Even a little miffed, she knew he had to be uncomfortable. No doubt he’d want food and clean clothes immediately and she needed to contact the Embassy to notify them of their arrival.

Spotting an abandoned warehouse up ahead, Abby turned into
the deserted area and moved around behind the building into an alleyway used for deliveries. She pulled the emergency brake and put the car in Park.

After taking off her brown wig, she shook her head
, allowing her hair to fall free. Finally safe, she hunched her shoulders then allowed them to drop and release all the tension in her upper body. To ease her stiff neck she turned her head from side to side, and then slumped back in the seat. God, she’d never do that again,

Looking through the review mirror, Abby wanted to strangle the stubborn agent.
“You know, Tony you could have made it a lot easier back there. That wasn’t the time to insult the guard.”

“Really?”

“Yes, really. I could have ended up in that cell with you. I told Frank I wasn’t comfortable playing the role of a spy. You need to be thankful our bosses are on such good terms.”

“Should I?” He arched a dark brow and stated at her from beneath lowered eyelids
. “You asking for a
thank you
?”

“Hell, yes. I managed to get you out of prison where you were d
eteriorating to nothing. How much longer do you think you’d survive?”

His gray eyes didn’t show any gratitude or appreciation.
With two weeks in lockup, the beginning of a thick black beard covered the bottom half of his face. No matter how obnoxious she thought he might be, she still felt sorry for his condition and the way he’d been treated

“It won’t be coming.”

“What?”

“A thank you. I don’t do apologies or appreciation.”

“Now you’re just being an ass and we both know you’re capable of that.”

“We do?” He chuckled.

Tilting her head, Abby wondered at his choice of words. He mocked and taunted her like a schoolboy, and his one liners were getting on her nerves. Thankfully this would all be over in a few minutes.

Just as she turned, a metal rope swung past her eyes and wrapped around her thro
at instantly choking her.

Oh God.

She clawed Tony’s hands trying to release the pressure so she could breathe. Why would he want to kill her? What had she done?

She managed to get her left palm wedged between the chain connecting the handcuffs and her throat. His grip tightened. Black spots danced in front of her eyes and Abby fought the urge to panic. She honked the horn, desperately trying to get someone’s attention.

Using what little strength she had left, Abby pulled out her gun. She brought the weapon behind her head
and pressed it against Tony Archuletta’s temple. Closing her eyes, she squeezed the trigger.