Reclaimed (Hostage Rescue Team Series Book 10) (18 page)

“I always do.”

She seemed inordinately pleased by that revelation, a little smile playing around the edges of her lips. “Then I guess we’re even, if we both have to suffer.”

“Guess so.” He was so damn hard he hurt, but it was worth it.

Wanting to ease her down from the high gently, he spent a few minutes giving her little kisses, stroking her hair and face until she calmed and her breathing evened out.

He did up her bra, pulled her sweater down and zipped up her jacket. The first movie was almost over already. “Still want to watch the movies?”

She made a face. “Not really.” Then her expression evened out and she gave him a gentle smile. “But I don’t want to go home yet, either.”

Warmth spread through him, a gentle fire in his veins. “Come here then,” he coaxed, and maneuvered them so that he was once again on his back and she was draped half on top of him, her cheek nestled in the curve of his shoulder. “Why don’t you sleep for a bit?” he suggested.

In answer she tucked her arm around his ribs and slid her bent leg over his thighs, let out a deep sigh. “This was the best and yet most annoying date I’ve ever been on,” she confided a moment later.

“Tell me about it.”

She relaxed fully against him, her breathing growing heavier and heavier as the minutes passed.

Adam stroked her hair with one hand as he held her, enjoying the incredible peace of the moment, and gazed upward. The stars were so clear, sparkling against the black velvet sky. Tucked beneath the sleeping bag with his wife curled against his body, he didn’t even feel the chill of the December breeze.

And as she drifted off to sleep in his arms, he’d never been more hopeful for the future. A future of living as husband and wife again.

Present Day

When Adam burst into the command center with Tuck and the others right behind him, everyone inside was in a flurry of activity. Director Foster glanced up at him from an analyst’s desk, his expression grim.

Adam stopped moving, his feet suddenly stuck to the floor. He couldn’t move. That look on the director’s face was something straight out of his nightmares. It told him the unthinkable had happened.

Then DeLuca appeared out of nowhere, stepping in front of Adam and gripping his shoulders tight. His jade green gaze met Adam’s squarely. “She’s alive.”

Adam closed his eyes and let his head drop forward, his legs damn near buckling underneath him. A ragged groan escaped him.

DeLuca squeezed harder, holding on. “I know, man.”

He sucked in a painful breath, raised his head to look at his commander. “How do you know?”

“Captors released a video of her a few minutes ago. We just heard about it while you were on your way over here.”

Adam jerked his attention to the large screen at the end of the room. “Let me see her.”

“Okay. They’re just starting to analyze it now.” DeLuca released him and moved out of the way so he could see what was going on. A group of analysts and the director were all gathered around a laptop set up on the long rectangular table.

Adam headed for it without being conscious of moving, his eyes glued to the screen, hungry for the sight of his wife.

The director straightened. “We’ve watched it through once. She appears to be in good health and she says Jim and Mark are both still alive as well. If the date and time are right, it was made just a little while ago. Right now it looks like the people who recorded this sent the video to another source for broadcasting, to make it harder to track them. The NSA is running diagnostics now, trying to get a lock on a location. Or a signal origin. Anything that might tell us where they are.”

“Let me see her,” he rasped out, staring at the screen with burning eyes.

The analysts gathered around it looked at the director uncertainly. Foster nodded at them. “Put it on the big screen and turn up the volume.”

Adam was aware of his teammates silently gathering around him, standing on either side of him. All their attention was riveted on the screen at the end of the room, all of them revved and waiting for the chance to mount a rescue.

Tuck stood closest to him, so close their shoulders touched. Maybe because his team leader was worried Adam might keel over once he saw the video. Bauer stood on his other side, a huge, solid presence. If Adam did drop, he knew his teammates would catch him before he ever hit the floor.

It was comforting to know, but if Summer didn’t survive this then no one would be able to soften that blow.

Steeling himself for what was coming, he braced his feet shoulder-width apart and folded his arms, his hands curling into fists. His stomach was in knots, his pulse erratic as he waited for the video to load on screen.

Finally it began to play. Arabic music and writing appeared against a black background, spewing whatever bullshit propaganda the ATB was using. Then Summer appeared on screen.

He’d thought he’d been prepared for the sight of her, but the truth was nothing could have prepared him for this.

He covered his mouth with one hand, stood there staring through swimming eyes while he felt his heart crack in two. They had her dressed in the robe of a burqa with her hands bound behind her back. Her red hair lay limp around her shoulders, her skin pale, dark circles beneath her eyes. The left side of her face was bruised, her cheek swollen.

Her expression was completely devoid of emotion as she stared into the camera. She looked…broken. As broken as she’d been after the stillbirth and the last miscarriage.

That, more than anything, hit him in the solar plexus with the force of a sledgehammer.

Sweetheart, what have they done to you?
he cried silently.

“My name is Summer Blackwell.”

The sound of her voice triggered something in him, cracked his defenses apart. He felt the tears gather, didn’t fucking care that he was crying in front of everyone. He blinked to clear his vision, afraid to look away for even one moment.

Tell me where you are
, he begged her.
Tell me how to help you.

“I’m an American citizen working for the Defense Intelligence Agency.” She gave the time and date—today’s date—and announced that she was being held by the ATB in retaliation for war crimes committed by the United States and its allies against the Syrian people.

The entire room was deathly silent as she continued.

She glanced to her left off screen, looking at someone, then back at the camera. And this time that blank mask disappeared for a moment. She swallowed visibly, drew in a deep breath. “Adam, if you’re watching this, I want you to know how much I love you. And I’m so sorry for everything I ever did that hurt you.”

Jesus, he couldn’t fucking take this. He clenched his jaw, fought back the sob trapped in his chest, his shoulders jerking sharply with the effort. He was shattering inside watching this, hearing her talk like she knew she was about to die.

A solid hand landed on his left shoulder. Bauer. The grip locked tight. “Hang in there, man,” he murmured.

Adam didn’t answer. He couldn’t. It took everything he had to hold onto what was left of his rapidly shredding composure.

On screen, Summer continued. “It’s funny how at a time like this, all I can think about is us. I’ve been thinking about our honeymoon, and the picture we took of us at the lake that day.”

He knew which one she meant, pictured it instantly.

He’d only been able to squeeze a few days off in between contracting jobs, so instead of the tropical vacation she’d wanted, they’d taken off to the Blue Ridge Mountains together. They’d spent their honeymoon in a snug little cottage he’d rented for them, hiking and canoeing during the day, making love by the wood-burning fireplace at night.

During one of their hikes they’d stopped on top of the slab of rock they’d climbed to and taken a selfie. The shot showed her snuggled into his chest with his arm curled around her, and the spectacular backdrop of the fall foliage of the Shenandoah Valley in the background. She’d had it framed as soon as they’d gotten home from their honeymoon.

She smiled now, an impossibly sad smile that managed to break his heart even more. “You know how much I love that picture of us, I take it everywhere with me when I travel. I always keep it with the things that mean the most to me.” She let out a deep sigh, her mouth quirking in the semblance of an ironic grin. “I wish I’d listened to you
in the first place
and stayed home this time. Anyway, whatever happens, just know that I’ll always love you. I need you to remember that, remember the good times.”

The camera panned out, showing her standing there staring at the camera in silence. And mounted on the wall behind her, a digital clock reading nine hours, fifty-four minutes was counting backwards, the seconds melting away as he watched.

A deadline. The message was clear. If Summer was still in the ATB’s possession by the time the clock hit zero, she was dead.

The screen turned blank, and he bit back a cry of protest, feeling like he’d just lost his last connection with her.

In the ensuing silence, everyone in the room turned to look at him.

Fuck.
Adam doubled over, covered his eyes with shaking hands and fought to breathe. He felt shell-shocked. Was practically reeling on his feet.

Someone dragged a chair over.

“Sit down.” Schroder practically muscled him over and pushed him into it. Adam dropped down, barely aware of his surroundings. The medic was bent on one knee beside him, a big hand splayed over the taut muscles of Adam’s back. “Somebody get him some water.”

“No,” Adam snapped, just wanting everyone to go away and leave him the fuck alone. He felt raw inside and out, like someone had peeled his skin away with a dull knife and left him bleeding out slowly from a thousand separate cuts.

Schroder dropped his hand and stood. Adam closed his eyes and focused on breathing in and out no matter how much it hurt. Every atom in his body was now clinging to the hope that the NSA or whoever could somehow get a location for them to target. Anything that would allow them to reach Summer before the time ran out.

The room remained silent as they played the video again. And again, over and over, analyzing it repeatedly. Looking for some hint, any clue that might help locate the hostages.

Eyes closed, Adam kept listening to Summer’s voice as it repeated her personal message to him at the end. Through the fog of pain and despair, something about her words kept calling to him. No, the cadence of her voice. The part where she was talking about the picture, and how she wished she’d listened to him and stayed home.

In the first place.

She’s emphasized those words above the others. It sounded strange enough in the sentence and context to catch his attention.

He looked up, gaze pinned to her on the screen. She was smart. Fucking brilliant, actually. And resourceful. He wouldn’t put it past her to try and give him a secret message somehow. But what? What was she trying to say?

“Play that bit back again,” he ordered suddenly, his urgent voice cutting through the room. People shot him surprised looks but the analyst controlling the video feed did as he said.

Adam stared at her, trying like hell to decipher whether there was any hidden meaning to her words or whether he was just hoping for something that wasn’t even there.

“You know how much I love that picture of us, I take it everywhere with me when I travel. I always keep it with the things that mean the most to me.” That deep sigh, followed by the wry grin. “I wish I’d listened to you
in the first place
and stayed home this time.”

“Stop,” he said, shoving to his feet as a chill ripped down his spine.

DeLuca and the director were staring at him. “What?” his commander asked. “What do you see?”

He shook his head. “It’s not what I see, it’s what she said.” Adrenaline poured through him, his heart a staccato drumbeat in his ears. “I think she gave us a clue.”

They all stared at him like he’d just lost his mind. And maybe he had, he was sure desperate enough to grasp at any straw available right now. But wasn’t it worth checking it out?

“The picture she talked about,” he continued. “She literally takes it with her when she travels, including here. I think she was telling me that she’s got it in a place where we can find another clue. Listen to how she emphasizes
in the first place
. That’s no accident or coincidence. It’s another clue. We need to go to her hotel room and find that picture.”

DeLuca and the director exchanged dubious looks, but then his commander faced him and nodded. “Okay. It’s worth a shot.”

Adam was the first one out the door. He literally ran to the SUV he’d ridden there in and jumped behind the wheel.

Evers was two steps behind him, snatched the keys out of his hand. “Nuh uh, brother. You’re in no shape to drive right now.”

Scowling, Adam just slid over the center console into the front passenger seat. “Fucking hurry up then.”

Thankfully the team was loaded and ready to go in just another few seconds. The short drive to the hotel seemed to take forever. Two guys stayed down in the lobby while the others followed Adam up to her room.

He raced up the stairs, refusing to even wait for the elevator. Every second counted. They were up against a deadline and Summer’s life hung in the balance.

Inside her room he headed straight for the nightstands on either side of the bed. They were empty except for a Quran and a phone book.

He rushed over to the desk, where Tuck was looking. “Anything?” The half-eaten bag of M&Ms was still there, tormenting him with its bittersweet memories.

“Nope.”

Fuck. He had to be right about this. Just had to.

Bauer was over at the closet. “There’s a safe in here.”

The safe. Of course, why hadn’t he goddamn thought of that first?

Adam rushed over, pushed Bauer aside and tried to think of what code she might have used. Taking a wild guess, he punched in her birthday. His. Their anniversary. Her social security number.