“We’ll get better at it,” he whispered before he covered her mouth with his.
Oh, she would have missed this, she thought, drinking him in, hungry just for the feel of his skin on hers. She met his gaze. “That was just crazy.” Tears burned her eyes. Her lip quivered. “I was smelling fried onions for a second there.”
He moaned, palmed her hair, then pressed his forehead to hers. “I thought I was going to lose you, Livi. I thought I had.”
The Northern Lion explosion, she realized, gripping his hand. “I’m so sorry I did that.”
He scoffed. “No, you’re not. I would have done the same thing.” He pulled another thermal blanket over her, then fastened straps over it. His hands were shaking a little.
“Probably with a little more finesse, though.”
“Armed, at least.”
“That’s what I forgot.” She stammered, chills wracking her. “And my ChapStick.”
For a deep breath, he just stared. “You’re making me crazy, you know that.”
“I didn’t plan on it going that badly.”
He muttered something in that Cajun she could never understand, then leaned down in her face so she could hear him above the engines. “Why’d you even try to work a deal with that maniac?”
Her teeth chattered. “Because you were there.”
His features tightened. It was a trust he’d never had from her, and she saw what it meant to him in his dark eyes. He kissed the top of her head, and murmured, “You sure have a lot of faith in me, baby.”
She gripped his arm hard, squeezing, making him listen. “I’m here, aren’t I?”
His shoulders worked with a deep chuckle and his big hands swallowed hers, warming them. And for the ride to safety, he never let her go.
SEVENTEEN
Sebastian learned of Nevolin’s graphic broadcast en route to the LPH, but his only concern was Olivia and making her warmer. Her shivering was near violent. The instant the helicopter doors slid open, he was beside her, lifting the backboard with Max and the Marines. The corpsman, Cintuk, ran alongside her with his bag. Wind beat them across the flight deck till they were inside the lift, a medical team waiting for them. They put oxygen over her mouth and Olivia squeezed his hand tightly, looking a little scared as they entered the lift. Cintuk checked her vital signs again and she tried to sit up.
Sebastian stopped her. “I know you’re ready to fight more Russians, but take it easy.”
She propped on her elbows, her eyes going wide when the medic held a syringe. “Whoa. Is that necessary?” Her voice was muffled behind the mask.
Cintuk met her gaze. “Your heart stopped. Yes, it is.” He didn’t wait for a concession, pushed away clothing till he found bare skin, and injected her hip.
“Just like a sailor, trying to take liberties. Don’t try that again, swabby.”
“Then don’t fall out of the sky again…ma’am.” He flashed her a grin, then turned to his supplies. Another corpsman crammed heat packs around her feet and a third with scissors cut off her clothes.
Olivia sat up and pulled off the mask. “Whoa, no no!” She pointed at the young man. “NSA is going to be really upset if you cut their twenty-thousand-dollar prototype.” The young man backed away, eyes wide. “I can get out of them on my own. You”—she pointed to Cintuk trying to start an IV—“stop sticking me while we’re moving. I’m not dying, obviously there’s no rush.”
“Olivia, honey, they’re only trying to help you.”
“I know, and thank you.” She glanced around at the corpsmen anxious to do their job, then to him. “But Nevolin is getting away in a minisubmarine. With Kolbash and ugly Stefan.” She pointed the blame for her swollen lip. “That sub has a five-hundred-foot crush depth. Double hatches, and the woman is very skilled at driving it or we’d all be dead. We were underwater when the Northern Lion was hit.”
The aftershock of the impact could have destroyed them, he thought, and she grabbed his hand, glancing between him and Max.
“She has the Siofra.”
His eyes widened.
“Only half of it.” As the corpsmen wrapped her in blankets, she didn’t break eye contact. “You guys shot Kolbash in the shoulder, a through and through. A couple hours later, he looked like he could run a marathon.”
An awakening shifted over his skin. “It works?” A new spin on things again, he thought as Max pulled out a radio.
She arched a brow. “And how fast was that?”
Medical pushed him back and brought her into the infirmary. A pulled curtain and she was shielded so she could get out of the wet thermal suit. That this relic of jade actually existed wasn’t his main concern, but what Nevolin planned to do with it. He pushed his fingers through his hair. He needed to broaden his thinking. Then he looked at Max. He was on the satellite phone and he held it out. Sebastian smiled when he heard the cheers coming from Ice Harvest as he put it to his ear. His gaze shot to Olivia’s silhouette against the curtain as he assured everyone she was alive and well. Nevolin’s escape to the old oil rig clarified when Riley reported on a video broadcast spread across the airwaves in several countries.
“If they weren’t hunting for Nevolin before, they are now,” Max said quietly, handing over his TDS Recon.
Sebastian watched the video broadcast on the small screen. The crimes of Moscow were in the open for the world to see. He almost felt sorry for the FSB.
“She plays dirty.” He didn’t try to factor the video into their SSU mission. “McGill know of the escape sub?” He kept his voice low, glancing at the curtain.
“Yeah, we’re dropping sonar buoys. It has to surface sometime.”
“The tanks won’t last long with three people breathing off them after traveling with four from the Northern Lion. She can hide inside commercial traffic, but needs GPS navigation.” He handed back the Recon. “I want to be there when she surfaces.”
“Same here. This is one crazy bitch. She does all this for revenge, but killed her way to get it?” Max shook his head, looking disgusted. “She’ll go after the rest of the jade. I’d bet my new dive suit on it.”
“She has to know where to look first.”
Max’s expression soured. “Her daddy already found one piece, and last I checked, that was more than we had.”
“But we have the Viking’s ship, and Nevolin isn’t her father. The scientists Olivia saw on the Northern Lion are dead. Her odds just went down and we need to get ahead of her. Fill Noble in on the jade. Olivia will be itching to talk to him. Demanding it,” he said with a small smile. The scrape of the curtain drawn back made him turn and a ribbon of pure delight galloped through his heart, erasing the last of his fears.
Dressed in thick olive drab military long johns, Olivia held an ice pack to her swollen jaw and lip and wiggled her sock-covered feet deeper into the blankets. The corpsman sandwiched heat packs around her legs and feet. At least her hair was drying and braided down her shoulder, but Sebastian thought she looked small in the bed, the IV running under the covers. No frostbite, but she was going to be sore. Her hip had to be bruised from hitting the platform, and the doctor felt she’d had the wind knocked out of her long enough to stop her heart. He didn’t want to live through that again, he thought, and leaned back against the bulkhead. From her bed, she made faces at him, rolling her eyes at all the fussing. The youngest with four older brothers who dragged her around like their favorite pet, she wasn’t comfortable with the attention. Behave, he mouthed, and she crossed her eyes.
In his earpiece, he heard the transmission traffic and glanced at Max. He pointed to his watch, then held up five fingers. Navy SEALs were dropping onto the ships right now and would have control A-sap. He planned on interrogating the crew, though he was good with just sinking the suckers. Ground Zero thought otherwise, yet from inside the LPH, he heard the jets zipping in an aerial fight. Russia wasn’t backing down, and wanted the evidence destroyed. Moscow hadn’t got the message that dropping ordnance on U.S. Navy ships wou
ld get them the booby prize. Since the Trident was in Danish territory, a treaty violation to the third power, the Danish Air Force was duking it out a half mile above them.
The doctor backed away, smiling as he crossed to him. “She’ll be sore for a few days from the impact,” he said. “But nothing is broken. She needs to eat some food and stay warm, but she’ll be fine.”
“Hey! I’m right here, ya know,” Olivia said, and the doc laughed to himself, leaving with a chart in his hand. She raised the bed up, wincing as the cushions straightened. “Heat on my feet and ice on my butt, I feel like a baked Alaska.”
Cintuk snickered to himself. “I’m going to get you some chow,” he said, and before he backed away, she grabbed the young man’s hand.
“Thank you for saving my life, Wade.” He blushed, nodding, then mumbled, “You’re welcome, ma’am,” before he headed to the mess hall. Olivia’s gaze followed Cintuk out, then shot to his. “Get over here.”
He laughed shortly. “Now I know you’ll be fine.” He crossed to her.
“Dropping out of the sky apparently does little for attitude adjustment.” She smiled, unrepentant, then made room on the mattress. He sat.
A few seconds passed without a word, her gaze ripping over him with the power of touch.
“But it does wonders for not wasting time.” She grasped his load-bearing vest and pulled him closer. “Ever again.” She brushed her mouth over his. “Are you ready for this? For me?” Her brows wiggled, the dare in her eyes.
God. He was coming apart at the seams just thinking about being with her. “In a big way.”
Her gaze lowered meaningfully to his lap and Sebastian swore he felt that like a stroke of heat. She met his gaze. “Oh goody.” She didn’t let go of his vest. “Now don’t do anything stupid.”
“Hello, pot? You’re black.” Her soft laugh tickled up his spine. He’d never get tired of hearing that and leaned in, staking his claim. “Mine. Mine. Mine.”
“You just wait till I get this ice off my booty.” Her smile melted as she crushed her mouth over his, igniting him all over again, and he’d have stayed right there if the loading tone hadn’t sounded through the ship. She leaned back, her eyes sparkling. “Go get those bad guys, baby.”
He stole a quick kiss, then left the cabin, stopping at the threshold and looking back. He’d nearly lost her, again, and her ashen skin and the curl of her swollen lip was like a knife to his heart. Nevolin and Kolbash left her on the crumbling rig to die. Sebastian understood that fate better than anyone, and the thought of her suffering that horrific hopelessness drove rage through his blood.
Interrogation would barely take the edge off—for now.
“She’s alive and, for the most part, unharmed.” The voice of the LPH commander sent a sigh through the room.
McGill collapsed deeper into his chair, and Mitch didn’t think he’d ever seen anyone so relieved. So was he. Aside that it had been damn unpleasant in here thinking she was dead, Corrigan didn’t deserve getting snagged in this. Her archaeology dig had little to do with the missiles, and more with Nevolin’s psychotic quest for justice.
“Doctor Corrigan witnessed the broadcast, sir. From a field laptop. A Norwegian salvage company was dismantling it for the metal, and the last crew left it in a weakened state ten days ago.”
McGill set up a time to speak with Dr. Corrigan and signed off, focusing his attention on kicking some Russian ass. The man wasn’t holding much back when it came to the Trident, and really didn’t have to explain himself. Three years ago, Russia planned to attack the United States with chemical weapons. But what enraged McGill more was that they got that close and were only detected after the Trident got trapped on the ice shelf. Nevolin’s broadcast had everything the United States needed to remove Russia from the Security Council. Already the UN was calling a meeting. Shit was rolling downhill fast.
Gerardo was abusing his Russian contacts and agents were hunting down Nevolin’s money trail. Her accounts were low and analysts thought the missiles were payment, but Mitch felt, she didn’t give a damn. She had what she wanted and had accomplished the impossible, effectively gutting the Russian government. Putin hadn’t made a statement and absolutely nothing was coming out of Russia. Mitch didn’t think even a cell phone was working.
He watched the screen, the ships in the water that looked like bugs in a bucket. Half the battle group was backing off and had surrounded the vessels. South, the Bowman kept alert for the escape sub. The radio frequency on the minisub wasn’t operating and the nearer to a shoreline, the more fishing and commercial traffic got in the way. His brain felt scrambled trying to keep tabs on it. McGill sent AWACS to the area, and David was checking each craft in the hundred-mile radius, narrowing the field around the rig for the minisub. If Corrigan hadn’t survived, they’d have never known about Nevolin’s sub. But Nevolin and Kolbash were escaping. They had minutes, not hours, to find them. The battle group was running at full speed toward the Greenland Sea. Only the LPH was able to get ahead because of the helos.
“SEALs have launched, sir.” He tapped the keyboard and on McGill’s screen the video of the assault showed. From helicopters, the SEALs zipped onto the deck without a shot fired. One missile was visible and Mitch thought, small, fast, and accurate. Nothing pissed off the brass more than being outsmarted, and with the Trident, Russia succeeded. A political embarrassment, but not irrecoverable. Price deserved the blame, yet never in the press. Her under-the-table deals hurt the United States, and Mitch wasn’t looking forward to digging for more. This had been his first dive into her past.
He took a step closer to the big screen. “Four missiles total, we believe. Dragon One sunk one. I count two on two ships.” He gestured to the satellite imagery from the AWACs jet thirty-five thousand feet up. “There’s number four.” He felt his first bit of relief as the crews were disarmed, and the teams took control. Satisfied, he turned to the tracking console and the feed from about twenty technicians hunting for Nevolin’s ride. Maybe Dr. Corrigan could tell him something useful about the electronics.
About an hour later, David gestured him closer. “Dragon One is calling you, sir.”
Mitch frowned. “Put them through.” He crossed to a terminal and slid the headphone back on. The video link played and a glance at the label said it was the viewpoint of Tango One, Max Renfield.
A man in his fifties sat in what looked like the tanker’s captain’s quarters. He was secured to a chair, and Fontenòt cut him loose, then yanked the man’s arm out straight. A butterfly switchblade flickered as he cut away the clothing. Tattoos decorated the man’s arms and hands.
Fontenòt looked at the lens. “Look familiar?”
Mitch felt his insides tighten, and Fontenòt pulled the man’s head back, exposing his throat.
“That is Cheslav Agar. Former KGB. Krasnaya boss.” He touched the yellow bruises still decorating his face. “If he’s there, then Vlad Dovyestoff isn’t far behind. I met with them in Chechnya. They’re the reason it went sour. Both knew enough about the German technology that they probably stole it, and it’s no surprise that both were Price’s Moscow contacts.”
“You’re just all connected, aren’t you?” Fontenòt asked the man. He responded in Russian and Renfield opted not to translate the obscenities.
“He’s the one who gave me over to Kolbash. He probably killed the guards we saw outside my prison. His own men.”
Mitch watched. Fontenòt barely touched the man, circling him and manipulating the butterfly knife so close to his face, he had the guy flinching in seconds. The prisoner didn’t realize he was bleeding from a couple dozen tiny nicks.
“Tango Leader, I’d take it as a personal favor if you left something for me to interrogate.”
Sebastian looked directly at the lens, his expression barely controlled and savage. He didn’t respond and simply cut the feed.
Yeah, Mitch thought, it was stupid to even ask.
Noble almost sobbed like a child when he
heard Corporal Esposito’s voice. “Very much alive and with Agent Fontenòt.”
Riley gripped his shoulder, grinning. “Good call, Noble.”
Safia did a little jiggle in the middle of the room. “God, Olivia rocks. Score one for the good guys!”
“Thank God Max has some OCD about tracking devices,” Riley said, dropping into a chair for the first time since the Northern Lion was hit.
Olivia didn’t know Max had inserted them. The team ribbed Max about it, but more than once, his obsession had saved the day. Then it got quiet as the background noise lessened.
“The Doc says to tell Noble that Nevolin has half of the jade.”
The room went instantly quiet. He exchanged a wide-eyed look with Cruz. “And she says it works.”
How did she know for certain, he wondered, then said, “Nevolin took it off the Trident.”
“If it works, God that’s just amazing—then it’s giving off some energy,” Cruz said. “The vibrations in the ice have stopped.” He worked his keyboard, then looked up. “Last significant tremor was around the time Olivia was giving up the translation.”
“This isn’t good news. Nevolin has the Siofra,” Noble stressed. “Gregor found it. How? Where? Learning how he did that will get us closer to its mate.” He was anxious to speak to Olivia, but wasn’t getting the chance till she was off the LPH. He was about to find a secluded spot to work when Safia declared a cappuccino celebration—the best they could do out here—and they toasted Olivia’s good fortune and Max’s OCD.
“I can’t believe the Russian found it. With all this.” Cruz waved at his surroundings. “You’d think we’d be ahead of them.”
“Then we’re not doing our job,” Noble said. “We have the last days of the Viking here. There is proof of his travels in here.”
“Sure, lots of it, but it doesn’t pinpoint—”
Noble shook his head, refusing to give in. “It does, it has to. Gregor had been looking far longer than we have and he didn’t have a damn ship to peel apart.” He looked at Riley. “We need everyone back here. If half of it heals, then whole, it’s dangerous.” When they looked to argue, he put up a hand. “The princess sent away her only family, the only people who loved her, to get rid of it. Make no mistake, the jade is dangerous. A legend is formed—”
Damage Control Page 32