by Mallory Kane
“Oh my God! He saw Novus Ordo’s face.”
“Then two more guards tackled him. He almost didn’t get away. One of them grabbed his dog tags and tried to choke him. About that time Brock O’Neill took out the other one with a machine gun. They got to the helicopter just as it was lifting off. Another few seconds and one of Novus’s machine guns or flamethrowers could have grounded it. Then everybody would be dead.” He wiped a hand down his face. “Truth is, it’s my fault Novus targeted Rook.”
Mindy shuddered. “What did Rook say about Novus? What did he look like?”
Deke laid his head back against the dirt wall. His mouth lifted at one corner. “That’s classified.”
“Right. Classified. Does Irina know?”
He frowned. “Probably.”
“Do you think she’s more trustworthy than me?”
“No. But—”
“Then tell me. You’ve always said how important it is to know your enemy. Well, I need to know my enemy, too.”
He sent her a pensive look. “Okay. The latest, greatest, most infamous terrorist on the planet is American.”
Chapter Eight
“Novus Ordo is American? No way!” Mindy stared at Deke, stunned. His head still rested against the wall behind him. He swallowed, and his Adam’s apple moved up and down. The tendons in his neck and the muscles that joined his neck and shoulder stood out as sharp shadows. Dear heavens, there was nothing about him that wasn’t sexy. Even his neck. Even his Adam’s apple.
Deke smiled and her heart gave a little leap at the curve of his lips. “Way.”
“Is—Was Rook sure? What did he tell you he looked like?”
“Rook said he was kind of ordinary looking, maybe of Irish or Scottish or British ancestry. But get this. He heard him curse, in a very American accent.”
“Deke, this is unbelievable. Why would an American—?” She stopped. It was a silly and useless question. There had been other Americans who’d turned against their country. “But the audio recordings he’s sent to the media have all been heavily accented English.”
“Right. You notice he’s never sent a video. Homeland Security’s theory is that one of his inner circle makes the recordings for him. Plus Rook worked with a computer facial recognition analyst for the CIA. For the past two years the CIA and Homeland Security have been trying to find a match to fit his description.”
“Have you seen it? The sketch?”
Deke nodded. “Average-looking guy. Medium height. Bordering on skinny. Long nose, close-set eyes, sharp chin.”
Disturbingly similar to Frank James. The cowboy outfit and bandanna mask couldn’t hide James’s slender build, his beady eyes or his narrow face. With every passing minute, Deke was more convinced that James was Novus’s brother, since, based on the sketch, he was too old to be his son.
Deke wasn’t naive enough to think that Novus would be here carrying out this witch hunt himself, but he could easily believe that Novus’s brother would do it. Hell, the sketch could be of Frank James himself.
He wondered what their real names were, and if they were born and reared in this part of the country or had located here because of Rook.
At least he had information that Novus didn’t know he had, and he would guard that information with his life. It might be a way to bring Novus down.
“Deke?”
Mindy had asked him a question. “What?”
“What did Rook say about Novus’s hair color? Was he dark or fair?”
“Rook couldn’t see his hair because of his shemagh, but he said the CGI expert did a great job on the face.”
“Shemagh?”
“That’s the traditional Arabian headdress. Novus wears it on his head, but doesn’t use it to cover his face. He uses the surgical mask for that.”
“So none of you recognized the sketch? You’d never seen him before?”
“Nope.”
“And the CIA has no idea who he is?”
He shook his head. “They’ve been going over all reports of missing Caucasian males from the past ten or so years, starting with the first known reports of Novus Ordo’s involvement in terrorism.”
Mindy felt like she’d woken up in the middle of a movie—a thriller. She couldn’t keep up with everything Deke was telling her. She was still processing his astonishing statement: Novus Ordo is American.
More specifically, she was processing the realization that Deke knew so much about international terrorist activities, Novus Ordo and what sounded like classified government secrets.
He hadn’t been kidding when he’d said it’s classified. He had just told her a secret of global importance.
A sudden sense of overwhelming responsibility weighed on her shoulders. It was crushing. Suffocating. She put a hand to her breastbone as her pulse hammered in her ears. “Oh.”
“Mindy? Is it the baby?”
She shook her head. “It’s just—I almost wish you hadn’t told me.”
“I know what you mean. But after everything I’ve put you through, I figured you deserved to know. I can trust you not to tell anyone, can’t I?”
“Of course you can. Deke, is this what you do? What you’ve been doing since you got back from Mahjidastan? You’re a—a secret government agent? Some kind of covert operative?”
He laughed, but he sounded more ironic than amused. “No. BHSAR isn’t a secret government agency. It’s what Rook wanted it to be. A private search-and-rescue company that does as many volunteer rescues as paid jobs, if not more.”
“A private company. So, what were you doing over there spying on Novus Ordo?”
“That was supposed to be a one-time thing. A personal favor asked of him by—” he paused and drew in a long breath “—by a friend.”
A very high-placed, influential friend. Mindy had no doubt those were the words Deke hadn’t said.
“If I hadn’t gotten shot down…if Rook hadn’t seen Novus’s face…” He shrugged. “Once all this is over, we should be able to do what we thought we’d done years ago. Be private citizens who just happen to run a local search-and-rescue operation.”
“With an occasional favor for a special friend or two.”
Deke just shrugged and quirked up the corner of his mouth.
“I don’t know how you’ve managed to stay sane.”
Another harsh laugh. “Maybe I haven’t.”
“Oh, I think you’re much stronger than you realize.” Mindy lay back against the softness of Deke’s shearling jacket.
“Yeah? Have you decided I’m not broken?”
The question sounded ironic, but Mindy heard an undertone that she’d never heard in his voice before—an anxiousness, as if the answer she gave to that question was very important to him.
“Hmm. I think most of your life you’ve looked at strength in the wrong way. You equate strength with rigidity. And that’s dangerous. You don’t need to be too strong to break. If you’re rigid, then you can’t bend. And if you can’t bend, you’re doomed to break.” She yawned. “Or something like that…”
“And bending. How is that a good thing? Isn’t it like bowing down?”
She opened one eye and squinted at him. “No. It means you’re resilient. You can take punishment without breaking. You’ll be beaten down, but you’ll spring back again.”
A deep laugh rumbled through his chest. “You’re exhausted. You need to get some sleep,” Deke murmured.
“I’m not sure if I’ll ever sleep again…” Her words faded.
“Oh, I think you will.” He leaned over and pressed a kiss against her forehead. “I’m going to get up and take a look around, okay?”
“You need to sleep, too.” She was already drifting off. Sprout, don’t you dare decide to be born until we get out of here. You can hold off another day or so, right?
“I’ll wait. I’ve gone without sleep for longer than this and survived. If you need me, call me.”
“My hero,” she whispered.
Deke slid carefu
lly away from Mindy just as a deep rumble echoed through the cavern.
Mindy jerked and Deke stiffened.
That was an explosion. What the hell?
“What was that?” Mindy asked, worry lacing her voice.
“Thunder.” Deke winced at his lie. “Go back to sleep. Even if it rains, we’re protected here.”
He rose to his feet and looked down at her. She’d already drifted back to sleep. She was so pretty, so young, so trusting, looking with her eyes closed and her face relaxed in sleep. Her silky-smooth hair fell across her cheek like chocolate-colored velvet.
God, I know I don’t deserve to have a prayer answered, but don’t make her suffer for my screwups. Please don’t let her die.
What had gone so wrong? How had he let her get caught up in the train wreck that was his life? She didn’t deserve this. She deserved a safe, stable home with all the special things that came with it: a husband who loved her and put her safety above everything else; beautiful, smart children she could be proud of; a life free of fear and danger.
The kind of life he could never give her.
His fists clenched as he turned away. It hurt his heart too much to look at her for very long. Especially like she was now. Innocent, vulnerable, trusting enough to sleep peacefully. It didn’t seem to bother her that she had no one but him to protect her.
He should have brought backup. Rafe had been available, as had Aaron. But even if he’d trusted them enough, it would have been a fatal mistake. Novus had demanded that he come alone. He’d given him no choice. Out here on this lonely stretch of prairie, a second car or a second body would have been immediately noticeable. They could have been killed.
He fingered the bump on his shoulder. He hadn’t told Mindy a complete lie. His scar did itch, partly because of the previous transmitter, but partly because of the new one. Who knew if it would prove useful, especially if they stayed underground. But he was glad he had it. He only wished he had some sort of two-way communication device.
If he stood directly under the ventilation shaft at exactly the right time, there might be a chance that one of the specialists would pick up on the chip’s location. He needed to let someone know that Mindy was eight months pregnant. But he had no way to get the information out.
He should have hidden a two-way transmitter somewhere on him. But hell, they’d searched him. He was damn lucky they didn’t get around to checking his boots.
Why hadn’t he taken steps to protect Mindy from Novus like he had Irina?
Because he’d been clinging to the hope that after two years she was no longer close enough to him to be in danger. It was a stupid assumption.
Deke stood under the ventilation shaft as he argued with himself. And then argued with himself about the futility of arguing with himself. Finally, he stopped at the far end of the lagoon and stared at the coal-car rails that plummeted down the steep incline.
They couldn’t go that way. He could make it on foot if he were alone, but Mindy would never be able to stay on her feet. The incline was about twenty degrees, which didn’t sound like much, but in her condition she had enough trouble walking on level ground.
It amazed him that the heavily loaded coal cars had managed to stay on the tracks, especially if the tracks curved.
He did an about-face, just as another rumble shook the ground. Again, he held his breath. But nothing else happened. After another few seconds, the rumble faded.
He swallowed heavily. Those were explosions, not thunder. And he’d bet money he knew what was being blown up.
The mine tunnels. James was trapping them in here. And there were only two reasons he would do that. Either he was ensuring that the only way out was back through the hotel, or—Deke did not want to think about the second reason. But he had to.
Or James was sealing them inside the mine before he killed them.
But why do that when he could just man the exits?
Good question. Maybe Novus didn’t have as many men at his disposal as Deke had assumed he had. Maybe James was blowing up the tunnels because he couldn’t guard them all at once.
If that was the case, then maybe Deke could get the upper hand after all. He figured he could handle two-to-one odds—maybe even three to one.
He turned to stare at the other end of the tracks, wondering if one of the explosions had caved in that tunnel. With a shrug, he continued his analysis of the best way to proceed. It was something to do at least.
The upper incline was much shallower—nearly level. If he were Novus, he’d discard that incline and the branch tunnel that led back to the hotel. Those were the easy choices.
But then, if Deke was thinking about taking the most difficult tunnel, even with a pregnant woman in tow, then Novus would also think about it.
He sighed and rubbed his temples. His thoughts were whirling out of control. Probably the result of too little food and sleep, and too many zaps with James’s fancy Taser. At least the racing thoughts had distracted him from his other problem—his frustrated libido. He dropped to his haunches and winced at the pressure of the denim on his not-quite-deflated erection. Okay, he wasn’t totally distracted.
He dipped his hands into the cold spring and splashed water on his face. Then, sitting back on his heels, he let his gaze wander around the large room. The only sounds that reached his ears were the soft trilling of the spring and an almost inaudible whistle of wind from the ventilation shaft high above.
He massaged the back of his neck. Much as he would have liked to catch a few winks of sleep, he needed to search the area for anything he could use as a weapon.
With a tired groan, he rose to his feet and went searching. The first thing he wanted to do was check out that blanket on the man car. If it wasn’t too filthy, Mindy could cover up with it. He was sure that she was going to get cold before the night was over.
He crossed the shallow spring and approached the vehicle. A quick inspection told him that not only was the wool blanket filthy and moth-eaten, it was mildewed, as well. It wouldn’t be healthy for Mindy to wrap up in it.
Gingerly, he pulled the thing off the car and peered over the sides, holding the lantern high in the air.
He froze.
Dynamite. Old dynamite. Several bundles of it. And from the little he knew about it, old meant dangerous. Carefully, holding his breath, he lowered the lantern enough to get a good look at the sticks without letting the lantern’s heat come close to it.
The first thing he noticed once the vehicles floor was illuminated was a tangle of blasting caps. Dozens of them. The second thing he noticed was the bright spots on the surface of the sticks.
Crystals. Ah, hell. Those crystals were pure nitroglycerine. A bump—even a slight movement, could cause them to explode.
Hardly daring to breathe, he backed away from the car. Was that dynamite set to explode? He held the lantern up, searching to see if there was a fuse running from the car. But he didn’t see anything.
So he crouched down, checking underneath, and walked all the way around, but he didn’t see a fuse there, either. He did, however, find a crowbar leaning against the wall behind the car. Grabbing it, he straightened, blowing his breath out in a sigh. Maybe the dynamite hadn’t been rigged by James. Maybe it had just been stored there for the past fifty or so years.
Still, the question remained. Did James know it was here?
It hardly mattered. They couldn’t go near that car. They couldn’t even breathe on it, or the nitroglycerine might blow. He headed back toward the alcove, testing the crowbar in his hands.
He crouched at the spring and scooped another couple of handfuls of water into his mouth, then sat back under the shaft and took his first deep breath since discovering the dynamite. He knew one thing for certain. They had to get out of here as soon as possible. In the meantime, on the minuscule chance that a satellite was in range and anyone might be monitoring transmissions, he’d stay under the opening as long as he could.
DEKE WOKE UP. HE’D HEARD
something besides the quiet sound of burbling water.
There it was again. A quiet moan.
Mindy!
He vaulted to his feet, swaying a little as the blood rushed away from his head, and ran to the alcove.
She was sitting up, her hands pressed against her stomach.
“Min? What is it?”
“I don’t kn—” Her whole body stiffened, and a sharp gasp cut off her words. “There’s something—wrong.”
Deke sat and took her hands in his. “What can I do?”
She shook her head. Even in the dim light of dawn seeping in through the ventilation shaft, he could see how pale her face was.
“Hey,” he said, keeping his voice as calm as he could. He squeezed her fingers gently. “I’m pretty sure you’re supposed to breathe.”
She looked up at him. “So now you know all about pregnancy?” Her voice was strained, belying the lightness of her words.
“I took a course.”
“Nice to know.”
She pushed a breath out through pursed lips. Then drew in another. Taking them long and slow.
“That’s good. Good, Min.” He brought her hands to his mouth and kissed her knuckles, buying some time as he racked his brain. He had taken a course years ago, during his air force training. It had included an overview of delivering a baby. A brief overview.
Dear God, please don’t let this baby come now. There was no way he could keep a newborn infant safe. No way he could take care of Mindy.
Focus. What were the signs of labor? Contractions, he answered himself.
“Are you hurting?” he asked.
She shook her head. “Not now.”
He nodded. “So that wasn’t a contraction?”
Mindy closed her eyes and flattened her lips. “No. It was a contraction, all right. And I don’t think it was the first one.”
Deke’s training was coming back to him. Beads of sweat prickled his forehead and the nape of his neck. “How—how far apart are they?”
“I don’t know. They started in my sleep. I was having a little back pain. And once or twice I felt a cramp. I palpated my abdomen. The uterus is definitely contracting.”