She followed Hunter into the house. They made dinner and ate in silence, neither sure what to say to the other. Finally, she put Brandon down for the night, then moved to the kitchen table, where she’d plopped the broken surveillance equipment they’d collected on their ride.
“I don’t suppose you have any small precision tools in that magical duffel?” she asked.
Hunter dug around the bag and pulled out a hard-sided yellow case.
“Your bag is as good as Mary Poppins’s.”
Hunter shrugged. “I’d feel better if it contained something that would identify their tracking device.” He pulled out the tracker Leona had provided him and flipped it on. “No indication of any activity. I still don’t know how they keep finding us.”
“Then the least I can do is give us an early warning signal,” Erin said. “Annie’s system got me thinking. I need something that will warn us if someone is watching anywhere we are. It has to be portable and easy to use.”
Hunter pulled up a chair and straddled it. “What have you got in mind?”
With a few quick twists of the screws, Erin took apart the camera and explained her idea. Hunter fired off question after question. He had an instinct for vulnerabilities in security that she’d never considered.
Together, they battled over the design, adding wiring and elements from a few of the lesser needed appliances in the cabin, until finally Erin sat back in her chair, satisfied. She flipped a switch, and the power light flickered on. The camera showed the interior of the cabin in high resolution. “What do you think?” She grinned at Hunter.
“Damn, Erin. You rock.” He grabbed her to her feet and hugged her. “You’re brilliant.”
She closed her eyes, taking in that moment of his strong arms holding her close, the warmth of his body pressed against her.
Love me,
she begged silently.
One more time before I lose you forever.
He stilled, as if he’d heard her plea, or he’d made one of his own. She held her breath.
Hunter cleared her throat and stepped back. “We should probably test it out. We’ll be leaving in the morning, but tonight is still in the window of time that they’ve found us before.”
Erin stared at him for a moment, disappointed.
She understood what Hunter was doing, staying vigilant for her protection, but that didn’t make it hurt less. She should take Annie’s advice. For the moment, she had Hunter in her life.
They would set up the warning system, as needed, but then she intended to make memories with him that would keep her warm for the lonely nights to come.
Erin opened the laptop and activated a wireless connection to feed the camera’s data. She glanced up at him. She didn’t want this to end. She squeezed his hand. She just couldn’t give it a rest. No matter what Annie said. She gave it one last try. “We make a good team.”
His eyes grew solemn. “Yeah, we do.”
“Hunter, are you sure—”
“No, Erin. Don’t ask again, please. I’ll do anything for you and Brandon. Except put your lives in even more danger. If anything happened to you because of me, I’d never forgive myself.”
* * *
H
UNTER
SCOOPED
UP
THE
CAMERA
.
“I’ll mount this outside now.”
He had to get away from her, away from the severe constriction in his chest when he thought of Daniel and Noah coming to get her and the baby tomorrow. Hunter would never see them again. How the hell was he supposed to survive that kind of loss?
With a tug of the door, he stepped into the night. He turned once and looked back at Erin, standing there, the light billowing around her like a halo.
He’d never seen anyone so beautiful—or so sad. An expression he’d caused. Hunter prayed once this was over she would find happiness again. He doubted he would.
Slipping the small flashlight from his pocket, he flicked the red beam on to help his night vision, then closed the door behind him.
With a quick sweep, he visually scanned the area for anything out of place.
No movement.
The world was still, but that unease inside him told him to be wary.
He paused to listen. From the right, a lone coyote howled; an owl hooted, and a bevy of crickets chirped in the night. No unusual sounds, but the hilly area to the left seemed awfully quiet.
He drew his gun and stood silently analyzing the surroundings. Still not reassured, he figured he’d better get Erin’s amazing camera up fast.
He glanced at the perimeter. The small mesquite a couple of dozen feet away from the house looked promising. The camera would be hidden. In the end, Hunter decided to go simple and secure it to the roof for the first test. He held the end of the flashlight in his mouth and reached for the low-hanging gutter. He attached the camera. If it worked as he expected, he’d scavenge Logan’s ranch and Erin could build more. Since they were so portable, she could take them with her.
He couldn’t be there for them, but at least the cameras and alarm system would give Erin and Brandon a fighting chance if they were ever found.
A small click sounded far behind him.
Hunter whirled around, and a red beam flashed across his chest before settling into a familiar red dot.
Cursing, he dove to the side, but he wasn’t fast enough. Something sharp jabbed into his thigh. Not a bullet, though. Hunter yanked the dart free, but it was already too late. His knees trembled, his arms went numb and he keeled over into the dirt.
Erin!
His voice didn’t respond. He tried to crawl to the door, but his muscles seemed frozen. A paralytic agent had rendered him immobile, but still aware.
In the silence, three black-clad figures ran across the front lawn.
Hunter panicked, desperate to move. Erin wouldn’t know the men were coming. He hadn’t had time to turn on the camera.
The attackers slammed open the cabin door.
“Hunter!” Erin’s scream erupted into the night.
Please, Erin, grab the gun.
Hunter heard the sound of a fist hitting bone, and Erin went silent.
A gruff voice yelled, “Grab the kid. I’ll take the woman.”
No, Erin, no!
A large, dark SUV sped over the hill, spreading dirt and grit from its revving tires.
The men raced back outside with their prisoners, past where Hunter lay trapped in his chemical paralysis. He watched in horror as they tossed Erin’s limp body into the back and handed off the baby. Seconds later, they were gone.
Erin! Oh, God, they’d taken her and the baby.
I’ll find you, love. I promise. Stay alive, and I will find you.
* * *
T
HE
DOOR
TO
L
EONA
’
S
OFFICE
stood closed. Trace glanced at his watch. He’d had a meeting scheduled with her five minutes ago. He rapped his knuckles on the doorjamb again.
Still no answer.
This wasn’t like her. Leona lived on Lombardi time—fifteen minutes early to everything.
He looked around but didn’t see her rushing up to the door. Was she standing him up? She was angry with him, though he wasn’t quite sure why.
To hell with this, he didn’t have time. Too many strange things had been going down around here lately, and Trace didn’t like it. He’d give her an additional two minutes; then he’d hunt her down.
Maybe she was in with the general. She’d been a bit secretive lately, and she and General Miller had started spending even more time together, often in closed sessions. That didn’t bode well for the organization, or for the country. Those two had their fingers on the pulse of every terrorist organization in the world. They knew exactly when something big was brewing.
Maybe something broke and she’d been called away for an emergency meeting, forgetting about their appointment.
An uneasy feeling stirred in his gut.
For some reason, he didn’t buy it. She hadn’t forgotten. She never forgot. Anything.
He could live with the organization’s secrets and the proverbial need-to-know situations that didn’t always include him. That was part of the job, but something about the latest series of events involving Hunter Graham felt wrong.
The man had an exemplary career. Why go bad now? It didn’t make sense.
Leona’s door remained closed. Trace looked down the hall on either side, then tested the doorknob. It gave way and he walked in.
Empty.
That skitter of unease rippled through him again. A half-empty cup of coffee sat on her desk. A file remained open on her planner. That wasn’t typical, either.
A tentative knock sounded behind him. “Sir? Is Mrs. Yates back yet?”
Trace turned. “No, Corporal. When was the last time you saw her?”
“She was headed downstairs to interrogate the prisoner.”
Oh, hell.
Mahew was insane. What if he’d broken loose?
Ignoring the corporal’s shout, Trace raced down the hallway to the prison infirmary room. No guard stood outside the door. Trace swiped his badge and bolted inside.
The prisoner lay on the bed, staring with unseeing eyes, his hands still bound with restraints.
Trace let out a sharp curse. Had Leona killed him? Or had she stumbled upon a murder in progress? Cursing, Trace scanned the rest of the room.
Mahew’s hospital tray lay on the floor. A chair had been tipped over.
Clearly a struggle had taken place, but between whom?
Several drops of red near the door caught Trace’s attention. He bent down. He’d have the liquid tested, but he had no doubt it was blood.
Obviously not Mahew’s.
Leona’s? Someone else’s?
Trace reached for the alarm, then hesitated. Too damn much was going on—all of it weird. A decorated hero like Hunter Graham suddenly tagged as a security risk. Leona Yates, Graham’s handler and mentor, missing. A renowned nanorobotics engineer and her son made to appear dead, but alive according to the nonmatching dental records of the deceased, though that information had been destroyed—not buried, but destroyed.
Now Mahew was dead while in custody at the company. This, after being identified as a perpetrator in another explosion that had claimed at least one life and possibly involved Graham.
The long string of events had
insider
written all over them. But who was playing puppet master?
Trace tugged out his secure phone and dialed the general. No answer.
No way. First Leona. Now Miller. Trace contacted security to process the murder scene and strode down the hallway. Every move in this place was monitored. The security tapes would have the answer. He had to find Leona and Miller—and figure out who had killed Mahew.
Trace’s gut told him Graham and Jamison were only a small piece of a very big puzzle. What the hell was going on?
If Hunter wasn’t trying to sell the prototype to the highest bidder, then he was actually trying to protect the doctor and her son. Trace hoped Hunter would get the doctor and her child out of the cross fire soon...before it was too late. For all of them.
* * *
B
RANDON
’
S
SCREAMS
PIERCED
the night, and someone gunned an engine. Erin blinked and came to in the back of an unfamiliar vehicle. Her head throbbed. She touched the aching place on her cheek where the man had punched her. Pain seared through her and she realized it might be fractured. It was certainly swollen. Brandon cried again and she looked around,
Oh, God
. Where was Hunter?
She peered out the back of the car to the cabin. Light streamed from inside the house, but she couldn’t see Hunter anywhere.
Then Erin noticed a still body next to the cabin.
“Hunter!” He wasn’t moving.
“He can’t help you,” the man bit out. “Keep your brat quiet or you’re both dead.”
Her mind went numb. Hunter couldn’t be dead. Not after everything they’d been through, he couldn’t be.
A masked man shoved Brandon across the backseat and dropped him into her arms. Her son was panicked and she held him close. He snuffled and burrowed into her.
Glass rolled up between the back of the SUV and the front two seats.
She banged on the partition. “Where are you taking us?”
“Sit down and shut up, Dr. Jamison. We have a ways to go.”
Brandon lifted his head. “Mama...Da?” he said, his lashes wet with tears.
She closed her eyes and cuddled her son close.
“I don’t know, little guy. I don’t know if your daddy’s okay or not.”
Brandon patted tears coursing down her cheek.
She grabbed his hand and kissed it. “Mommy’s hurt, baby. No touch.”
Come on. You’re supposed to be a genius.
What would Hunter want her to do?
Thinking of him almost crippled her, but Brandon’s life was hers to save now. Alone. She couldn’t wuss out because she was terrified and heartbroken.
She peered toward the front of the vehicle. They were headed down a dark highway. Only the dash lights shone in the car. In the back, where she was, it was nearly pitch-black.
Clutching Brandon tight, she used her other hand to feel for any kind of weapon, anything that would help her get out of this car. She’d heard the latch click on the lock, so she couldn’t just open it and escape. She’d have to defend herself.
But with what? The back area was empty.
She ran her fingers over the carpet. Maybe there were tools or equipment stored underneath. If Hunter had done nothing else, he’d reminded her she could make something out of nothing. She would find a way to save her baby.
Erin shifted position to reach a new area of the carpeting, and near the edge, she came across a bump. She tugged the carpeting, and it lifted slightly. She moved out of the way and drew the flap of rug aside. Just beneath the floorboard she felt a metal handle. Was it the compartment for the spare tire? Her anticipation ramped into overdrive. She twisted the knob and felt a release.
A loud click echoed as the metal panel sprang free.