An Aria for Nick (Christian Romantic Suspense) (Song of Suspense)

by Bridgeman, Hallee

  As the door closed behind the Ambassador, Jen tossed Nick a helmet and opened her tool kit. "How many times have you seen me do this, Nick?"

  "Once was too many. Why do you ask?"

  "Ever heard me say I'm scared before?" Jen crouched down to eye level with the package, staring at it.

  NICK sat on the balcony staring at the hotel across the way when Aria woke up. She called room service and ordered a pot of coffee and a fruit and cheese platter, then went out and sat in the chair beside him. He didn't acknowledge her presence, so she remained quiet, leaving him to his thoughts.

  It was just past noon, but she felt rested and clear-headed even without her normal sleep. Who knew how long Nick had been awake?

  She remembered her wig just before the room service waiter knocked on the door, but she didn't have time to darken her eyebrows. She hoped he would be bored enough not to notice. She took the tray, signed the check, and took her cup back out to where she had been sitting.

  "I need to get another digital camera," Nick said, finally breaking the silence.

  "I thought you might make a video of the drop," Aria said.

  "I am. You're going to take pictures." Nick took sunglasses out of his pocket and put them on, blocking the light that was suddenly reflected off the window across from him.

  "What are we going to do after this happens today?" Aria asked.

  "It depends on what I see. I haven't made up my mind yet," Nick said. He reached down and snatched up the nearly empty bottle of water from the ground next to his chair and took a long swallow.

  Aria was tired of his evasiveness. "When you decide, be sure to let me know," she said through gritted teeth, then stood and started to go back inside. Before she even saw him move, Nick's hand was gripping her arm, halting her progress.

  "Don't get angry again, Aria. I'm not used to discussing things with anyone." Nick sounded tired. Aria looked at him closely, but with the glasses on his face, she couldn't see enough details to tell if he was rested or not.

  "How much sleep did you get this morning?" she asked him.

  Nick rubbed the back of his neck. "Enough," he said.

  She sat back down and turned the chair so that she faced him. "How much does 'enough' mean?"

  "A couple of hours."

  "You've only slept a couple of hours at a time since this thing started." Nick only shrugged at her statement, and she wanted to shake him and scream at him. Instead she turned her chair back around, resuming her earlier conversation. "What are the scenarios you're expecting today?"

  Nick stretched his legs out in front of him and crossed them at his ankles. "What I hope to see is Simmons keeping tabs on Harrington, and Harrington giving information to someone else. That would ease my mind. What my gut is telling me I'll see is Harrington giving information to Simmons. That will worry me, because I won't know who to trust within my own organization, and it would mean that you're in more danger than I anticipated."

  "Why does your gut tell you that?" Aria asked.

  "Because Simmons would have no reason to be in the field. He had any number of agents at his disposal to send out. I've known him for eight years and never known him to get his hands dirty."

  Her coffee had cooled but she took a sip anyway to help relieve her suddenly dry mouth. "And why would it put me in more danger?"

  "Because you know. And, again, he has any number of agents at his disposal. Not all of them are in it for the right reasons." Nick stretched his long body and stood. "You need to put makeup on and go down to that computer store and buy a camera. I would, but I don't want to run the risk of bumping into Simmons." He looked at his watch. "What time was Harrington's flight due in?"

  Aria pursed her lips, trying to remember the details of the confirmation. "Two thirty-five, I think."

  "Okay. There's time. We need to be prepared for Harrington to arrive around three o'clock. I need you to hack into the Sandpiper and make sure Harrington gets assigned to that room right there," he said, pointing.

  With a nod she said, "I can try."

  Aria stood and went into the hotel room and connected to a remote proxy using the hotel's wireless internet connection. Having once hacked into the Beachcomber's reservation system, hacking into the Sandpiper took little time. Once she moved Harrington's reservation to the correct room number, she backed all the way back out, covering her digital tracks as she went.

  She hibernated her laptop and informed Nick that the deed was done. She grabbed her makeup kit and headed back out onto the balcony. She opened a compact and took out the eyebrow pencil, going to work on transforming Aria Suarez into Annalisse Rivera.

  "What if I see Simmons?" she asked as she finished putting the makeup on and closed up the case.

  "Don't make eye contact or look nervous. Just buy the camera and come back upstairs."

  She left him on the balcony and went back inside, threw on some clothes, then grabbed her platform shoes and went back outside to put them on. "How do I look?"

  Nick briefly looked her way, then looked back at the hotel. "Like a drug cartel henchman's girlfriend." She started to leave, but his hand stopped her again. "If you don't come back in fifteen minutes, I'll come down and look for you."

  "Are you reassuring me or warning me?"

  He stared at her for several heartbeats. "Reassuring you." He let go of her hand and she put her hand on the door. "Aria, get me a paper while you're down there."

  ¯¯¯¯

  CURSE Charlie for making him doubt her, even for a second. He had spent the last three hours reminding himself that he believed her and trusted her, now he'd spent the last ten minutes worried about what she was doing. Even all of the evidence supported her. Nothing told him that she wasn't telling the truth, except Charlie. His mentor and friend.

  Nick paced the hotel room, looking at his watch every ten seconds. She would be fine down there. The dark hair and clothing, the way the shoes changed the way she moved, all completely changed her look, making her unrecognizable. If Simmons had even paid attention to her when she saw him before, he wouldn't be able to recognize her now in a lobby filled with college students. Even if he was looking for her.

  The idea caused Nick to grind his teeth in frustration as he started to leave the room. Just as his hand touched the doorknob, he heard Aria's key in the lock. He flung the door open and she stood there in the hallway looking shocked.

  "Hey, Nick. Everything okay?" she asked.

  He nodded and stepped back, letting her enter the room. She handed him a small bag that held a palm sized camera, then took a newspaper out from under her arm and gave it to him.

  "Let me have the want ads when you're done. I need to start looking for a new job, soon," she said dryly, then walked past him, throwing her purse on the bed.

  Nick took the paper and sat down at the table, spreading it open in front of him. He looked through every page, looking for any kind of news article about Aria. If they thought she was in the area, they might make her out to be a wanted fugitive and have her picture everywhere. It had worked the last several times for people they had wanted to bring in for one reason or another, especially when a reward was offered for information leading to an arrest. People were always ready to make a quick buck.

  While he looked, Aria opened her computer and started punching keys. She sat across from him with her glasses perched on her nose, and immersed herself in the papers in front of her and whatever it was that was on her computer screen. He finished looking through the paper, finding nothing about himself or Aria, then sat back in his chair and watched her.

  She hadn't removed her wig or the makeup and he thought to himself that he preferred her as a blonde. The black was too striking for someone as basic as she was. He didn't realize it had been possible for his love for her to grow, and it scared him how overwhelming the feelings were. He tried very hard to set those feelings aside for the time being.

  She stopped what she was doing and took her glasses off, meeting his eyes. "Do y
ou want me to order a pizza or something?" she asked.

  He had to clear his throat before he could speak, and he felt himself returning to the real world. "Sure," he said.

  "I suppose you don't really care what's on it?" she asked as she pulled the phone book out of the drawer in the night stand.

  "I don't like a lot of pork or fruit on them."

  "Good, because I like it loaded with every vegetable on the planet." She found a local organic pizzeria and dialed the number, turning her back to him. He wanted to go to her and hug her and tell her that everything would be all right. He didn't move. He couldn't lie to her. He wasn't certain what the next twenty-four hours would bring and they had absolutely no guarantee that everything would turn out fine.

  Nick went back out on the balcony and tried to relax. He needed to sleep, needed to let his mind rest for a while. This assignment had come too soon after a mission that had been both physically and emotionally draining, and he was worn out. He'd been worn out long before he even went to Portland. He'd only taken this job because he thought it would be something easily handled in a few days and allow him to take some time off afterward to recuperate from the last ten years.

  If only there were some place he could take her where he knew she would be safe, he could relax for a while. Maybe then he could get a grip on the emotions that ran rampant through his mind and heart. The constant contact with Aria was draining him, and he felt more exposed than usual today.

  "Are you okay, Nick?" Aria asked, sitting on the chair next to him. Her voice was soft, gentle, loving — like he remembered from all those years ago. "You've been acting strange since last night."

  He took hold of her hand and pulled her to him, making her fall onto his lap. "I'm fine, Aria. I'm just not used to worrying about anyone but myself."

  She laid her head on his shoulder and put her arms around his neck. "Is there something I need to worry about?"

  He thought about it for a long time. It would be best if she knew what the situation was, and what the consequences may be. "I called my boss last night. He didn't believe you. They're sticking fast to the fact that you're the culprit." His hands were making lazy circles on her back, soothing while he spoke the words. "From the way he was talking, I don't know if there's anything I can bring him that will clear you in their eyes. If I can't, we have to go on the run."

  "I'm sorry you're in trouble because of me," she said against his neck.

  "If I weren't here, Balder would have killed you by now."

  "I'm still sorry you're in trouble. I should have minded my own business and ignored Peter."

  "You did the right thing, Aria. Don't ever doubt that. This is the type of thing I believe in fighting for." He pushed her up and cupped her face in his hands. "We aren't wrong. They are. Don't let them bring you down."

  She was overwhelmed by the intensity in his eyes, and her eyes filled with tears. "I know you don't want to hear it, Nick, but I'm really scared."

  Nick felt a tightening in his gut. The only other time a woman had uttered those words to him had been about three minutes before an improvised explosive device blew her apart in front of his very eyes.

  "You're doing just fine, Aria." He softly kissed her lips then pulled her back into his chest. "We'll know our direction soon."

  She looked up, her breathing deep and fast. His lips touched hers again and, as he possessed her mouth, he heard the door open onto the balcony across from him, and heard Harrington's daughter yell to her dad that they had a grill.

  ¯¯¯¯

  Chapter 25

  "NO, no, no, no," Nick said under his breath, trying to get a grip on the desk with blood slick fingers. His ears rang so badly that he couldn't hear anything but a long, solid tone, and he still couldn't see through the smoke. His fingers and his face felt numb and he couldn't seem to catch his breath. He was finally able to grab the desk and heaved it off into the corner, off Jen Thorne's shattered body. She didn't move.

  Nick knelt down beside her and searched for a pulse. His fingers found her wrist but he could detect no pulse whatsoever. He closed his eyes, took one deep, slow breath, and felt for her pulse again. Nothing.

  He looked down as blood slowly began to pool beneath her arm. He was about to start coming to terms with her death when Jen's eyes fluttered and she stared up at him, a look of confusion and shock in her eyes. His fingers still gripped her wrist and she still had no pulse. That fact did not compute in Nick's mind.

  She opened her mouth, which had filled with blood, but Nick couldn't hear her words. He reached up and checked her carotid and felt a weak pulse there. He didn't think he had much time.

  "Hang in there, Jen. Hang in there," he said as he rolled her over. He was screaming but he could not hear his own voice though he could feel himself screaming. His throat felt raw as he roared. When he rolled her, the arm he had been checking her pulse against did not move with her body. Rather it remained motionless on the floor, severed, the upper part of the arm completely crushed. Nick tasted bitter bile in the back of his throat.

  Keep it together, he scolded himself. She needs you.

  Jen Thorne lay there in a pool of her own blood. He cracked open her armor vest to survey the extent of her injuries. When he saw her torso, Nick forced his emotions way into the background, and became a machine. His only objective was to keep her alive until someone came.

  He reached for the field tourniquet he always kept next to his zip-tie handcuffs, the one clipped to his gear, but it wasn't there. Nothing was there. The explosion had ripped everything from his vest and he had no idea where anything ended up. Maybe across the street for all he knew.

  He removed his belt and made a makeshift tourniquet. He ignored her blood that mixed with his own. He ignored the pale face and the look of agony before him.

  Jen's hand reached up weakly and grabbed at him as if she were sinking and he could somehow pull her up, pull her out of the river of pain slowly drowning her. Her mouth moved, the same word over and over. He couldn't hear her but he knew she was saying, "Hurts! Hurts!"

  The tourniquet largely stopped the bleeding from the jagged stump of her arm. Now, all he could do was apply direct pressure to the mortal looking wound in her side. Jennifer Thorne needed a miracle. Nick had witnessed miracles before. He knew Who handed miracles out. He started to pray, though he didn't let Jen see the desperation of his prayer.

  Save her, God. God, please save her. Keep her alive, God.

  The ringing in his ears kept him from hearing the door being broken down. It wasn't until a hand touched his shoulder that he realized help had finally arrived.

  NICK put the finishing touches on his makeup, then washed his hands and left the bathroom. He had darkened his skin around the black hair, dark mustache, and dark brown goatee. Harrington had gotten a really good look at him in Aria's apartment, and he wanted nothing about his current appearance to connect him with her.

  Aria was already dressed to go out, sticking to the Annalisse Rivera look. She had dressed in a tight dress that hit her mid-thigh and incredibly tall high heeled silver shoes. Nick had overheard Harrington telling his daughter, Becky, to get ready to go out, and he planned to follow them until they went back to the hotel. Nick hoped Simmons decided to go out as well so he could keep an eye on both of them.

  "You ready?" he asked. When she nodded they left the room. They left the hotel via the front entrance rather than the back, hoping to get a glance at Simmons. He was nowhere to be seen though, and they walked out through the lobby. The street party was even larger than the night before now that the weekend had arrived, and the atmosphere was that of joy and celebration. Inside the lobby was a sitting area sectioned off with couches and chairs, and Aria sat down while Nick stood next to her looking at his watch. To the most casual observer, they were waiting on friends for an evening out.

  Ten minutes later, Harrington came out of an elevator with his daughter and left the hotel, glancing around him nervously. The teenager appeared ob
livious to her father's movements and gaped in awe when she witnessed the party on the street. Nick and Aria followed behind, arm in arm, keeping pace with them, not speaking.

  They went to dinner at a seafood restaurant, dining on grilled flounder. Nick managed to secure a table in the corner for them where he sat with his back to the wall so he could see everyone who entered and exited. Harrington glanced around him a few times, and at one point looked right at Nick, but there was no recognition in his eyes, and he kept scanning the room. Nick watched for signs of Simmons and for signs that Harrington was under surveillance, but he saw nothing. If he was being watched, Nick couldn't see it.

  An hour later, they strolled back down the parkway, heading back to the hotels. They reached the Sandpiper first, and Harrington and his daughter turned to go in the building. Nick steered Aria around so that her back was against a light pole in front of the hotel and he faced the entrance. He lowered his head as if he were going to kiss her, watching to see if anyone would follow them in. When he was sure nothing would happen, they made their way back to their hotel.

  As soon as they returned to the sanctum of their room, Nick quickly checked the indicators he'd left around to make sure no one else had been there. Only when he felt sure all was clear did he speak.

  "We need to watch their room round the clock," he said as he opened the closet door and pulled out one of his bags. "We'll do it in shifts." He pulled a case out of his bag and opened it, revealing two pairs of earphones, a small box, a small dish, and a microphone with an antenna attached to it.

  "I hate to say this, but I really need to sleep right now," he conceded, hooking the blue earphones to a small black box that contained a recording device, then he ran wires from both earphones to the recorder.

  Aria threw her purse onto her bed and sat down, taking her shoes off. "I don't mind going first. What do you want me to do?"