The Valkyrie's Guardian (32 page)

“No way.”

Cassie ignored her. “All you have to do is keep Kyros out of my way. If anyone can distract him for a while, it's you.”

“Even if I managed that, what are you going to do with Jack? He won't let you out of his sight long enough for you to make it out the door.”

“Let me handle Jack. Just be ready, okay?”

• • •

The same day Kyros and Lyssa arrived, Henry went missing. One moment he was sitting at a table in the library, and the next he was gone without a trace. Jack was beside himself, but hours of searching led only to the knowledge that the security equipment had been tampered with again, and it wasn't Curtis, who had no recollection of doing it the first time. He was innocent, a brainwashing victim like the SEAL candidate who attacked Cassie.

The next day, Jack and Kyros both got nicked by the sniper. An expression of impatience, grazing Kyros in the shoulder and hitting Jack on the inside of his knee, the bad one. Kyros hunted down the sniper's nest but the shooter had slipped away, disappearing into the river again. This time the watch reported with certainty there was no boat on the water, but again, that's where the trail went cold.

The sniper left behind another piece of stolen clothing, this time a satin half-slip belonging to Neva. Cassie couldn't blame the MacGunn clan for revolting against the Network. Only Kyros' promise of protection calmed them. Sort of. On the bright side, the MacGunns finally took security seriously.

By the end of the week, everyone was irritable and frustrated over being cooped up and frightened half to death. Mr. X was a good terrorist, because he'd made them afraid of a nebulous threat, which thrived on their imagination. Cassie hated him doubly for that. Although only a few people knew she was the target of the operation, she still felt like Jonah on the storm-tossed ship. If someone didn't throw her overboard soon, she would do it herself. It was time to take action. That is, if she could get rid of Jack long enough to do it. He'd been serious about following her into the washroom — nothing daunted or embarrassed him.

The more she thought about it, she realized she would have to exploit Jack's weaknesses to make her plan work. She felt ill, contemplating hurting him on purpose. When Tom, Hugh's youngest son, was brought in with a bullet wound to the thigh, Cassie decided nothing else mattered. It was time to act.

Her resolve hardened to flint as she operated on the boy. She stanched the bleeding and repaired the damage. Tom took it like a champ, but Neva was freaking out. Cassie worried the stress would affect the baby — Neva already looked bad. She only had days to go, she was in constant pain and beyond exhausted; this was the last thing she needed. Hugh wore a cold look in his eyes that scared everyone. Cassie hadn't seen Ben for a while. That couldn't be good.

• • •

Despite the impending doom, Cassie was having a good time. Neva's complexion looked healthier after making short work of the chocolate-covered toffee Cassie had smuggled in. Lyssa ate a rye bread and roast beef sandwich, wishing out loud it was a chipotle turkey on focaccia with spring greens and Italian olives. Always a sandwich connoisseur.

“Probably nothing like that to be had in the entire nation of Scotland.” Cassie teased, “Haggis, Lyssa. And porridge. That's on the menu.”

Neva laughed then whimpered, rubbing her huge belly. She pushed against the roiling baby who made his mother's shirt move like a monkey on a waterbed. Cassie had seen the abused skin of her belly earlier, mottled with bruises and burst blood vessels. Her ribs were warped and cracked, they jutted out at unnatural angles. Cassie didn't tell Neva, but she would need surgery to repair the hernias riddling her abdomen. Neva didn't notice the pain from it on top of everything else. And she'd said this was the easiest one to carry, which blew Cassie's mind.

Neva furrowed her brows. “What's that sound?”

Cassie quit chuckling and heard it too. Rotor blades, coming nearer. Lyssa stood and parted the curtains, peering out the window overlooking the courtyard. The last thing Cassie expected was a chopper to land at Kinmylies and unload SEAL Team Three. She whooped and dashed from the room, on her way to the great hall.

She cursed as she doubled over on the stairway, seized by those damned cramps. Cassie hugged her knees, rocking to pass the time until the pain subsided.

“Cassie! Oh, no! What's wrong?” Lyssa knelt and wrung her hands, unsure of what to do.

“Nothing.” Cassie gritted her teeth and forced herself to uncurl from the fetal position. Twelve labored breaths later, she was fine. “See, nothing to worry about. No need to say anything to Jack. Or Kyros either.”

“I think you should tell — ”

“No! I mean it. Not a word.”

“Fine, but I think you're wrong.”

“Duly noted. Now let's go.”

The great hall at Kinmylies was cavernous, but it seemed cramped with a half-dozen berserkers and another half-dozen Navy SEALs milling around.

“Pops! Chief!” Cassie skipped from the stairway into a double hug from both SEALs.

Pops smiled and kissed the top of her head. “Thundercat, baby. You tired of Doolittle yet?”

Chief elbowed him and winked. “I get first dibs.”

Cassie surprised them by joking, “I could never choose. How 'bout a three-way?” She must be getting the hang of their humor; they laughed with their heads tossed back and squeezed her shoulders.

“You look good, Thundercat. Any particular reason why you're glowing?” Chief's eyes had a mischievous twinkle. He knew. Impressive intuition for a guy.

“Yes, actually. How did you know? Your answer had better not include the words
extra
or
weight
.”

“Nah, Doolittle told me. Congrats.”

“Yo, Thundercat,” Chet called, and she waved back. She also saw Buck, Wade and Subway.

“I'm glad Memphis isn't here,” she muttered to Chief. “It's been bad. You shouldn't have come, but I'm glad you did. What
are
you doing here anyway?”

“Well, it's complicated.”

“I'll try to keep up, Chief.”

Cassie noticed Jack watching her, only half his brain engaged in his conversation with Kyros and a uniformed officer she didn't recognize. Uh-oh. Was she too flirty just now? Cassie winked and sent Jack a silent message, telling him with a wave of heat what she meant to do to him once she got him alone. He calmed down. A little.

“On the record, this is a training mission for a classified operation.”

“Ah, you said my favorite c-word.”

Chief smiled. “Mine too, sweetheart. Captain Russo signed off on the transport and the equipment. My mission report says we're here to train in high-altitude and rocky terrain. We'll probably blow something up to make it honest.”

No wonder Jack hadn't breathed a word about the SEAL team coming. She didn't like him keeping it from her, but if there was a mole somewhere in Kinmylies, the enemy could have heard about it and been waiting with firepower when they landed.

“What's your MO?” Wow, she sounded cool, throwing around military lingo like a pro.

He lowered his voice and barely moved his lips. “We're going to catch your sniper and defend the perimeter. If an attack comes from the forest, they'll have to get through us first.”

Fireworks went off in Cassie's mind. This was perfect. Well, almost, the exception being her friends in danger. “I like it, Chief. Make Mr. X put up or shut up.” Just the diversion she'd been waiting for.

“You got it, sweetheart.”

Jack was on his way to their side of the room. Pops noticed the murderous gleam in his eye and called, “Skinny dipping, Thundercat. Don't forget, oh-two-hundred hours.” He did a throat growl and bounced his brows, then shouldered his pack and slapped Jack on the back. “Cool party here, Doolittle. Thanks for the invite.” He wandered over to the others, leaving Jack fuming.

She wasn't in the mood to cater to Jack's petty jealousy. She turned back to Chief. “Well, I'd better get back to Neva and let you settle in. Hope you like haggis and porridge. Chances are it's on the menu tonight.”

“We brought MREs just in case.”

“Good. I'd take my chances with NASA-engineered tuna macaroni if I were you.”

He grinned, it made him look years younger and less hardened. “I've had worse.”

She smiled back. “That's the right attitude to bring to Scotland.” Cassie dropped her smile and looked Chief in the eye. “Look, do me a favor and tell the guys to keep their Kevlar on? For me? I'd hate you to bring me something I can't fix.”

“Will do, Thundercat.”

There are only two people who can tell you the truth about yourself —

an enemy who has lost his temper and a friend who loves you dearly.

—Antisthenes, 445 – 365
BCE

Something was wrong. It woke him, that unsettling feeling. Cassie squirmed in his arms then blinked awake, listening.

What is it, Jack?

Dunno.
He rolled to reach the two-way on the bed stand.
I'll check in —

“Cassie? Cassie! Where are you?
Bugger
!” Someone was going down the hall, banging on every door and shouting.

They both jumped out of bed and pulled on clothes. She yanked the door open and stuck her head out before he could pull her back. Her combat instincts needed work. A flashlight beam hit them both in the face, and Jack growled, his vision exploding in a painful blast of white heat, like looking at the sun.

Cassie shouted, “Tom! What's going on?”

Tom whined in relief. “It's my mum. The baby's comin', and somethin's wrong.”

Jack staggered after Cassie, barefoot and blind. He caught her hand and made her tow him behind her. His eyes throbbed and watered as psychedelic spots in primary colors danced under his eyelids. He'd be useless for at least ten minutes.

“Where's Kyros?” Cassie asked.

Tom sounded like he would hyperventilate. “I couldn't find him. So I came for you.”

“He's out on patrol,” Jack answered, glad he'd grabbed the radio. He tuned the dial to the private channel reserved for him and Kyros, hoping he'd done it right by touch, and tapped in the code for abort and fall back. “I just paged him. If he can come, he will.”

Cassie grilled Tom with all kinds of medical questions he couldn't answer. Jack doubted a seventeen-year-old boy even knew what a
cervix
was. Jack probably broke every one of his toes, stumbling blindly after Cassie and Tom from the academy to the great house. The closer they came to Neva's quarters, the noise of panic roared louder in their ears. The unmistakable sound of Neva screaming through a raw throat froze his blood.

He felt Hugh's presence before Cassie registered him barring the door. Ben lurked off to the side, returned from wherever he'd disappeared to recently. Panic and anger rolled off them both in waves. Fantastic. They were itching for a fight, likely to be unreasonable, and Jack was as blind as an NFL referee.

“Put that flashlight down, Tom. You fool!” barked Ben. Tom wasn't old enough to feel sensitivity to light as his elders did. The night vision grew keener with maturity. “Oh, bloody hell. He's brought
her.
”

Neva's wailing choked off, followed by the racket of something heavy crashing to the floor in the room.

Hugh cursed and yelled at his son, “No, Tom. Get away, all of you!”

“Jack, you have until thirty seconds ago to get out of my house before I — ”

“Shut your mouth, Ben,” Jack called. “Hugh, Kyros isn't here, he's not even close by. I paged him, but even if he can come, it will take time.”

Neva's high-pitched scream drowned every other sound. Jack had only heard the like in an Iraqi prison, from a victim being flayed alive. Everyone in the hallway flinched, and a fresh wave of dread settled over them.

“I don't
have
time!” Hugh roared, then choked on a sob.

Jack shoved forward, in the direction of Hugh's voice. “Then let Cassie help. Think, Hugh. What really matters right now?” A pitiful keening sound raked over the nerves of every man in the hallway, the sound of a female in misery, a sound she made when losing the fight against pain and exhaustion. No man could endure that.

Without a word Hugh stepped aside and opened the door. He heard Cassie push through and fly into action, barking orders to the nurses. Good girl. Before Jack took another step, his arms were pinned together and trussed behind his back.

Hugh warned, “Not goin' in, Jack.”

“I can't let her out of my sight, not for anything.”

“Too bad. No.”

“Hugh, I can't even see. Tom blinded me with the flashlight. Just let me guard the window, I'll face the wall.”

It was Ben who restrained him from behind. If he shoved Jack's shoulder blades any higher, Jack was going to rip his arms out of the sockets, and to hell with trying to make peace.

Ben snarled in his ear, “If she dies, I'll take it out on your hide.”

Neva screamed again, making everyone cringe.

Jack muttered low so only Ben could hear. “Do it. But it won't bring Kelly back.”

“Bastard!”

That was Ben's favorite insult. Ever since the first time Jack trounced both his brothers in a fight, they'd assumed his superior strength came from a naughty secret Maggie MacGunn kept. Jack didn't care what Ben called him, but the dishonor to their mother was unacceptable. Jack inserted his voice in Ben's mind and turned up the volume.
Insult our mother again and it'll be the last thing you do.

Ben gnashed his teeth, hating the power Jack had over his mind, hating every way Jack was superior to him. Jack had long become immune to the hatred Ben spewed.