Show No Fear (32 page)

Then, with a
whop-whop-whop,
the second helicopter rose over the summit’s lip, spewing fire from its Gatling gun, picking off the encircling Venezuelans.

“Run!” Gus urged, and Vinny tried again.

Banding an arm around Lucy’s waist, Gus followed him, Harley and Teddy belting out a base line to cover their retreat.

This has got to work,
thought Gus, speeding Lucy over the rubble. Heads tucked into their chests, they ran blindly into hands that pulled them
into the helo’s cabin. Track lighting revealed a team of four men, working furiously to speed them away.

“Go! Go! Go!” shouted the team leader to the pilots.

With whining rotors, the bird lurched off the ground, swaying like a cradle as the wind whipped around them. They swung so
close to one of the jagged peaks, it seemed inevitable that they would strike it.

Gus felt Lucy tug at his jacket. “Gus!” she cried, capturing his attention.

He looked down at her, loving every curve of her beautiful, sculpted face.

“I want that date!” she demanded, her words scarcely discernable as both Hunter Hawk and Mother Hawk now pounded the enemy.

A sense of peace enfolded Gus abruptly, easing his tense muscles, compelling him to lower his mouth and touch his lips to
Lucy’s ice-cold ones. Suddenly he just knew, like he’d known she had fled to the summit, that they were going to survive this
deadly night. And one day soon, they’d be enjoying their first date in eight long years.

“You’ve got it,” he promised as the Pave Hawk soared straight up. Listing to one side, it bore them to safety as Hunter Hawk
riddled the mountaintop, destroying the FARC’s secret weapon once and for all.

CHAPTER 19
      

E
scorted by her brother, Drake, Lucy crossed from the elevator to the door of her apartment outside Washington, D.C., with
the sense that she was dreaming. The flight on a C-130 cargo plane from Ecuador to Andrews Air Force just north of D.C. had
taken all day.

Prior to that, she had spent three days at Manta Air Base in Ecuador, enduring the FBI’s Hostage Reintegration Program. She’d
been fed, scrutinized by a physician, and allowed brief communication with her employer and with her family members before
finally being sent home.

The only thing she hadn’t done in those three days was talk to Gus. No sooner had the rescue helicopter delivered her to Manta
Air Base than it had borne him and his teammates to a carrier in the Pacific.

Lucy had watched the helo disappear over the dark Andes hills and wondered how she would bear the wait to see him again.

“Uh, before we go in,” her little brother cautioned, his hand on the doorknob, “I should probably warn you that Mom and Dad
invited a few people over. So don’t have a heart attack and try to look surprised,” he added, smiling ruefully as he swung
the door wide. Delicious aromas wafted from the dark interior. Drake reached for the light.

“Surprise!” Despite her brother’s warning, Lucy was startled to see so many people crammed into her living room.

“Lucy!” Her mother and father rushed at her, sweeping her up into a joint embrace. In the circle of warmth, Lucy relaxed.
Talking on the phone with them had been a healing experience, but their touch was what she really needed.

Over her mother’s shoulder, she spied Gordon Banks, her supervisor, standing with a red plastic cup in one hand and tears
in his eyes.

Her gaze strayed to the other faces, folks from the office—secretaries and analysts who had taken the time to welcome her
back. Everyone was here but Gus, who had a job to do.

She couldn’t blame him for that. Somehow, they’d work around the demands of their professions to see each other.

“Come on in, sugar,” said her father, throwing a protective arm around her as he guided her around the room to greet each
guest.

Her mother rescued her, passing her a plate of hors d’oeuvres and drawing her into the kitchen.

Seated on a bar stool consuming shrimp tempura, Lucy wondered if she would wake up tomorrow to find she was still chained
on La Montaña. The panicky feeling was a familiar one.

Aware that her brother was hovering protectively, she sent him a reassuring wink. Her gaze went past him to the enormous potted
plant gracing her glass dinette table. What on earth?

Her mother was the green thumb, but this looked nothing like the colorful flowers Karen Donovan favored.

Pushing off the stool, Lucy wandered over for a closer look. The plant’s broad leaves brought back memories of the jungle.

Half cautious, half intrigued, she reached for the envelope and extracted the message inside, a tremor in her fingers.

To Lucy, my love. Keep it alive.

With a startled glance at the sturdy-looking plant, she recalled what she’d said to him on their last day at the
casita
.
People like us don’t do relationships. I can’t keep a houseplant alive.

Stroking a dark leaf, she found it silky to the touch and oddly comforting. She’d do better than just keep it alive. A determined
smile touched the edges of her mouth.

Glancing up, she caught Drake’s thoughtful gaze and grinned at him.

Cell phones weren’t allowed in the CIA’s new headquarters building. While debriefing her boss and attending meetings that
had anything to do with South America, Lucy stored her phone in the glove compartment of her new SUV, a Toyota Land Cruiser.
Checking for missed calls was the first thing she did at the end of each day. Today, she eyed the number of her single missed
call with a prick of hope.

A shiver of anticipation rippled through her as she accessed her voice mail. At the sound of Gus’s velvety baritone, she closed
her eyes in relief.
Finally!
He had kept his promise.

“So, Luce,” he said, sounding hesitant and excited at the same time, “how about that date you promised me? Call me back,”
he said succinctly.

Good thing she wasn’t expecting hearts and flowers. Hitting the TALK button, she started up her vehicle, prepared to drive
whatever distance was required to see him.

“Is that you, Ethel?” he answered with a smile in his voice.

“Hey, Freddy,” she replied, her heart leaping with joy. “You wanted to see me?”

“Hell, yes, I want to see you.” His urgency was reassuring. “Can you make it to the Mellow Mushroom in Tyson’s Corner in an
hour?”

He was here in northern Virginia? Lucy glanced at her car clock. “I can make it in fifteen minutes,” she told him, her heart
pounding.

“I’ll be waiting,” he said, hanging up.

With a glance over her shoulder, Lucy peeled out of her parking place, laying rubber on the asphalt as she raced for the exit.
Speeding along the George Washington Parkway, she glanced at her reflection and grinned.

Life was good. Two weeks in civilization had put some badly needed flesh on her bones. Her skin, once ravaged by insect bites,
looked smooth and clear. Vitamin supplements had put the sheen back in her dark hair. She would have liked to have worn something
sexier than this lavender linen suit, but it would do for a first date.

Twelve minutes later, she exited the Beltway at Tyson’s Corner. The Mellow Mushroom, a new restaurant, stood adjacent to the
shooting gallery where she’d qualified as an expert markswoman seven years straight. With a minute to spare, she bounced into
the parking lot, pulling her SUV into a spot near the back, close to a beat-up black Honda.

She’d bet her next paycheck the car belonged to Gus.

Looping her purse on her shoulder, she paused long enough to strap her Ruger onto her thigh—
Never leave home without it. Never again, anyway.
Then she marched toward the restaurant’s entrance, projecting confidence.

They could do this. In spite of what they both did for a living, they could
make
a relationship work. Sparing a smile for the hostess, she brushed past her, searching the bohemian-style restaurant for Gus’s
dark head.

Across the room, their gazes collided, and Lucy’s heart stopped, resuming its beat with a thud.

From a table topped with a dozen roses, Gus shot to his feet and grinned as she bore down on him. In lieu of jungle cammies,
he wore a tan knit shirt and jeans. His jaw was clean-shaven, his hair shorn and combed. He looked so ordinary and domesticated
that she had to laugh as she threw herself at him.

“What?” he said, grinning as he folded her into his embrace in front of the handful of spectators. He kissed her soundly on
the lips. “You look beautiful,” he murmured, pulling her close again.

“I was thinking the same thing,” she purred, wishing they were alone somewhere. His scent, his touch notched her desire to
dangerous levels.

He seemed suddenly conscious of the attention they were getting. “Have a seat,” he said, pulling out a chair for her. “I’ve
been sitting here a while waiting for your call.”

Lucy eyed the spray of red roses with amazement. “Are these for me?”

“Of course.”

“Wow,” she exclaimed, inhaling their perfume as she sat. “I didn’t know you had it in you,” she admitted.

Dropping into the chair next to her, he caught up her hand again, threading his fingers through hers. “I’d do anything for
you, Luce,” he added quietly. “Anything.”

The implied commitment in his words took her breath away. “That’s a good thing,” she answered, “because seeing each other
isn’t going to be easy.”

“Nothing worthwhile ever is,” he insisted.

“That’s true,” she agreed.

“I love you, Luce,” he added gruffly. “I always have.”

She had to dab at a fat tear escaping the corner of her eye. “I love you too, Gus,” she admitted, losing herself in the golden
depths of his eyes. “I didn’t always love myself,” she added quietly, “which is why I cut you out of my life. But I always
loved you.”

He drew a breath that expanded his powerful chest. “Did you get my gift?” he asked with a searching look.

“Oh, you mean the plant? Yes, I did. Bella’s alive and well,” she reassured him, picking up her menu.

He sent her a quizzical smile. “You named it?”

“Of course. She’s not just your average houseplant, you know. She’s a
Calathia burlemarxii.
She makes these gorgeous blue flowers that grow right out of the stem. You should see them.”

“I’d like to,” he asserted, looking up as the waitress interrupted.

“What can I get for you?” the young girl asked brightly.

Gus glanced askance at Lucy, who shrugged. “Everything tastes good these days,” she drawled, leaving the decision up to him.

Without even glancing at the menu, Gus placed an order for spinach and vegetable deep dish.

“Nice flowers,” said the waitress, flicking Lucy an envious look as she left.

“So…” said Gus when they were alone again.

“So,” said Lucy, trying not to smile at his earnest efforts to be everything she could ever ask for and more. He would soon
realize she loved him just the way he was.

“You changed your mind,” he pointed out. It took her a second to realize he was talking about their date, the one she’d refused
their last day at the
casita.
That wasn’t all she’d changed her mind about.

“I had a lot of time to think,” she countered wryly.

His grip on her hand grew fierce. “God, Luce—” he began, clearly about to berate himself.

“Don’t,” she cut him off. “I already told you, Gus. What happened was no one’s fault but the rebels’ and the Venezuelans’,
who paid for their mistake. Besides, like I said when you found me at the radio station, I learned what it means to really
live. You were right,” she admitted, her voice husky with emotion. “Ever since what happened to my friends in Spain, I was
afraid to get close to people. I didn’t think I had the right to enjoy my life.”

With sympathy in his gaze, Gus stretched out a hand to stroke the side of her face.

“During captivity, I realized the best way to honor Amy, Melissa, and Dan would be to live life to its fullest—you know? Not
bury myself in my work or get swept away by terror’s encroaching tide.”

He sent her a heartbreaking smile. “I hate what happened to you, Luce, but it makes me so happy to hear you say that. I understand
survivor’s guilt. I dealt with it when my father died.”

“It’s taken a long time to come to terms with what I saw in Spain,” she admitted, recalling with a private shiver how detached,
how fearless she had felt for years afterward. “But that’s behind me now,” she added. “I don’t want to shut you out anymore.
We can do this, Gus,” she added, laying her hands over his. “I know we can.”

The pleasure shining in his eyes slowly dimmed. “Lucy, I’m only in town for five more hours,” he admitted quietly.

The confession dropped like a bomb on her contentment. She tried to speak, but disappointment put a chokehold on her vocal
cords. She nodded instead. No big deal, she told herself, drawing in a tight breath. At least she’d gotten to see him, to
tell him how she felt.

“That’s why I’ve been sitting here,” he added sadly, “to make the most of my time.”