Midnight Fever

by Lisa Marie Rice

  There was no way she could stay out in the open. She pushed the door open and stepped inside a storage area and stopped, unsure where to go.

  What to do?

  All options were bad. She couldn’t stay and she didn’t know where to go.

  What to do?

  She didn’t know, but her body did. Without thinking, her cell was in her hand, dialing a number. Just thinking of the person on the other end of the line made her feel better.

  “Kay?” Nick’s deep, angry voice sounded like music to her ears. “Where the hell are you? Why did you—”

  “Nick,” she interrupted, throat raw and quivering. “Help.”

  Nick smiled as he drifted up out of sleep. Even before waking completely, he was smiling. Oh man, yeah. Who wouldn’t smile after a night like last night? And with a woman like Kay?

  He drifted up, like a bird flying thermals. Usually he came awake in a rush, battle ready. It sometimes disconcerted his bed partners, but he was helpless to resist it. He and his teammates had been trained and trained hard to be ready for anything upon awakening. Ready for combat, ready to muster out, ready to face anything, you name it. The line of demarcation between the sleep state and waking state was paper thin and he could crash through it in a second.

  But not right now. Even semi-awake, he realized there was no danger, there was only Kay.

  It was later than he usually woke up, that was for sure. He remembered that the curtains in the room were drawn but even with his eyes closed, he could tell that the sun outlining the curtains was intense. He was usually up by dawn, but not today. God no. Today was going to be all about lingering in bed, maybe ordering room-service breakfast. Keeping his hands on Kay, kissing her, more than kissing her.

  She was here for a conference, but she could miss the speeches. She probably knew more than the speakers, anyway. He wanted her in bed, with him.

  The sex last night had been really intense, he should have been wrung out, but nope. He wasn’t seventeen anymore but his dick was hopeful, swelling awake, already at half-mast. With any encouragement from Kay…

  He frowned, eyes still closed. No source of heat, no sound of breathing. His hand reached out and encountered cold sheets. Not hot woman.

  That wasn’t right.

  He opened his eyes, frowning. The room faced east and the curtains were framed with light, casting a soft glow over the hotel room. There was more than enough light to see by, and he could see that Kay not only wasn’t in the bed, she wasn’t in the room. That left one place she could be.

  Nick rolled over in bed, ready to get out and go to the bathroom. Knock on the door. Suggest a shower together. But the bathroom door was completely open and he could see that there was no Kay inside.

  A chill gripped his insides. He lay there, naked, a little pissed, fast becoming a lot pissed. Where the fuck was she? Had she gone downstairs without telling him? Maybe she had something to do and hadn’t wanted to wake him up.

  But damn it, this wasn’t just any morning.

  The chill became ice when he went to the closet and discovered her purse missing and no suitcase. Nobody went downstairs with their suitcase unless they were leaving.

  Goddamn. He’d thought they were past the hide-and-seek stage. He’d thought last night had, well…made them a couple.

  The icy cold hid genuine hurt. Nick didn’t often get involved with his heart, but when he did, it was real. He’d lost his heart to her last night. Or, to be honest with himself, he’d lost his heart to her well before that, but last night confirmed she felt the same.

  Or not.

  Fuck.

  Nick didn’t play games, and he thought Kay was the kind of woman who didn’t play games, either. They’d made what he thought was love all night, but maybe for her it had been hot sex and nothing more.

  No! He rejected that with every fiber of his being. It had been lovemaking and the affection had been mutual and he didn’t understand what the fuck was going on and it pissed him off hugely.

  Goddamn.

  He angrily pulled on his fine wool pants, slid into that elegant dress shirt he’d put on just for her when his natural habitat was jeans and a sweatshirt, neglecting the tie because he hated ties, thinking furiously all the while.

  He was good at strategizing, planning, but Kay just…disappearing had him stumped. Was she expecting him to just let her go, as if nothing special had happened? Now that hurt. On the other hand, if last night meant so little to her, maybe his anger was misplaced. Maybe he should just let it go, let her go. Except it didn’t make any sense.

  Well, he could call her. Play it cool. Hey babe, where’d you go? He’d keep his voice neutral, totally down with her disappearance. Sure, you can vanish without leaving a word, fine. How about dinner again tonight?

  He picked up his cell and it rang in his hand.

  Kay.

  All notions of playing it cool fled from his head.

  “Kay!” he barked. “Where the hell are you? Why did you—”

  “Nick.” Her voice was shaky, raw, hoarse. “Help.”

  A bolt of electricity shot through him, crackling with desperate energy. He pulled on his shoes, grabbed his jacket, headed for the door. Of all the scenarios that had shot through his head, he hadn’t considered this one. That she might be in danger.

  Every thought except Kay in danger fled from his head. That one remained like a loosed arrow still quivering where it hit the wall.

  He strode out of the hotel room, wanting to get to her—wherever she was—just as fast as humanly possible.

  “Where are you, baby? What’s wrong?”

  “Oh, Nick!” Kay’s voice broke. “God, he’s dead, Nick. Dead! I don’t know how the drone killed him, I don’t know where to go, what to do…”

  Nick was running down the hotel corridor, but kept his voice even and calm, though inside he was boiling. Someone dead, a drone…

  “Honey, the first thing is—where are you? Take a deep breath and tell me where you are.”

  “Sorry.” He heard a sharp intake of breath. When her voice came back, it was less shaky. “I don’t know, Nick. I’m in the back of a building and there are service rooms. Wait, sorry, I’m not thinking straight…”

  Ping. The elevator. Nick punched the button for the ground floor, wishing he could punch someone else, anyone else, anyone who had put Kay in danger.

  “I’m in the back of a department store. Conrad’s. I’m just inside the door. I walked out of the hotel, turned left, turned left at the second street, which is narrow, then right, onto the first turnoff. It’s a service lane, with delivery trucks and Dumpsters. There’s a dead man there now.”

  “There’s a drone?” That raised the hairs on the back of his neck. “And it killed someone?”

  “Yes. I think it—it killed him. Mike Hammer, the web journalist. But I don’t know how. It sprayed him with something that was almost instantly fatal and it sprayed me, too, but I…I’m okay. It didn’t kill me, even though I caught some of that spray. I can’t figure out what happened! Mike said to keep my head down so the drone couldn’t photograph me and I did but I don’t know if I was quick enough and…”

  “Okay. You can’t go out again as long as that drone could still be up there.” He pinged her number on his tracking app, saw her location. “I know where you are. Are you on the ground floor?”

  She swallowed. “Yes. Ground floor.”

  Nick exited from the elevator at a brisk walk, making his strides long. He’d look normal, but he was covering ground faster. “Here’s what I want you to do. Listen carefully, honey. Are you listening?”

  “Yes.” The panicked breaths slowed. Good girl. “I’m listening.”

  “Okay, then. Turn off your phone, take the battery out and don’t move. I’m coming for you, but I’m also putting a plan in place where they can’t follow you, follow us. If I’m not with you in ten minutes, put the battery back in, switch on your phone, and I’ll tell you where we can meet. Is that clear? Ca
n you repeat that back to me?” Nick knew that panic flooded the mind, eroded memory. Most people in a panic would have literally heard one word in ten. Soldiers and pilots repeated commands constantly.

  But Kay had herself back under control. Her voice was steady. “Turn off my cell as soon as we stop talking, take out the battery. If you don’t arrive within ten minutes, put the battery back in, switch the phone back on and we’ll make plans on where to meet.” Her voice shook again. “Hurry, Nick. Whoever did this is still around and the drone might have seen where I entered the building.”

  Nick’s heart jumped inside his chest, but he kept his voice even. “Drones can be operated from great distances, honey. If there was someone nearby, he’d probably already be there.” He swallowed as an image of a broken, dead Kay slumped on the ground filled his head.

  Stop that. Fuck that. He was thinking like a lovesick fool.

  He was an operator, a man who’d been in firefights, been to war. He tightened his focus until he was cocked like a weapon, in the zone.

  Okay. Not much intel to work with, but he had something.

  Kay had seen a man killed and perhaps an attempt had been made on her life, too. It was irrelevant who was after her right now. Right now, priority number one was to get Kay to safety, but a drone was in the mix and that meant trouble. It meant whoever the enemy was, he was smart and had resources and could track via the drone. However, the only way a drone could kill someone that he knew of was with a missile or an explosive. Kay hadn’t mentioned anything of the kind, so they were dealing with something very high tech. Some liquid had been sprayed…a liquid that killed instantly? The only thing he knew that could do that was something like sarin. But even that wasn’t instantaneous.

  He was tying himself in knots when he didn’t have sufficient intel. Didn’t matter what the drone did. They had to get gone soon—and Nick knew where to go.

  The trick was in not being tracked.

  He knew exactly who could help.

  She answered on the first ring. Nick sometimes thought that Felicity was connected to her phone and computer by nerves, not wires. Felicity Ward, soon to be Felicity O’Brien, engaged to one of his best friends and co-worker in the company Nick had just joined. ASI, made up of the best operators on earth. The best of the best.

  “Nick, talk to me,” Felicity’s crisp voice said.

  “Read Metal into this. And Jacko and Joe.” Metal O’Brien, Jacko Jackman, Joe Harris. Former SEALs, just like him. Nick knew the entire company was at his disposal, but right now, all he needed was those two. He had a vague memory of Jack Delvaux being out of town. Didn’t make any difference. Metal and Jacko and Joe were themselves an army.

  He heard a couple of beeps. “Done,” she said.

  Stealth first. He had to get to Kay unobserved. “Felicity, I’m in the lobby of the Astoria Hotel. Kay is holed up in the back of Conrad’s, the department store. A man she was with, Mike Hammer, a journalist, was somehow killed by a drone and I have every reason to believe Kay is in danger. I’m sending you her location, ground floor. I have to walk about sixty meters along Clement Street. Can you give me the position of the security cams along the way? Kay and I need to disappear, and I can’t have someone pressing rewind.”

  She was silent. Had she heard?

  “Felicity?”

  “Done,” she said again, and on his cell appeared a street-view map with cameras outlined in red.

  “That was fast.”

  “While I was doing that, I checked for overhead drones,” she said.

  “You’re the best.” She was; she was amazing.

  “Yes, I am.” Smugly.

  “And?”

  “I found one.” Felicity’s voice turned somber, serious. “It’s circling overhead, covering the entire block. It’s tiny; it’s a quadcopter, but it’s there.”

  “We got your back, Nick,” Jacko’s deep voice chimed in. “Metal, Joe and I will drive into the underground garage of Conrad’s in three identical SUVs. We’ll meet on the first subbasement level and exit at timed intervals. You and Kay take one of the SUVs and head out to the Grange. No one will be able to follow you.”

  For the first time since waking up, Nick felt some of his tension dissipate. He didn’t underestimate the danger, but he also didn’t underestimate what it meant to have the ASI guys on his side.

  Whatever trouble Kay was in, he was going to get her out.

  “Copy that.” He quickly, unobtrusively slalomed his way down Clement Street, avoiding the cameras. “Meet you in the garage, subbasement level 1 in one five mikes. Felicity, this is all secure, correct?”

  He heard her huff out a breath and it sounded angry. “Please.”

  “Nick…” That was Metal.

  “Okay, okay.” Metal’s official position on life was that Felicity was perfect and right every time. In this case, Nick was glad she was. “Out.”

  Everyone clicked off.

  Nick found the narrow cross street. He checked overhead. No cameras. The buildings on either side were tall. It was like plunging into shadow. It was a beautiful day, but it might as well have been cloudy for all the sunlight that penetrated the street. It got even darker when he turned into the alleyway.

  Nick slowed his stride slightly. The narrow street had been clear, he had great visuals. This alley was full of possible ambush points. Delivery trucks, Dumpsters, recessed doorways. He checked behind himself. No one.

  Goddamn, he missed his weapon. Nick was always armed, always, but last night he’d decided to leave his Glock 19 at home, hoping to get lucky. Well, he’d gotten lucky, but right now he needed the weapon that was locked away in his gun safe back home.

  But Metal and Jacko would make sure he was armed. Jacko, particularly, would make sure that the SUV he ended up with would have an armory of weapons.

  Even though he didn’t actually have his weapon with him, he made his way down the alley turned slightly sideways. If anyone was going to take a potshot, it would be of a reduced profile.

  No one shot at him. But there was a dead body.

  Nick approached slowly, all senses firing. He looked up but couldn’t see a drone. That didn’t mean anything. It could be stealthed, it could be so high up he couldn’t see it. Height didn’t make any difference. If someone had money to burn, the drone could have cameras that could see a fly’s balls from a mile up.

  And anyway, Felicity had her eyes on the drone, and she’d warn him. Felicity was looking down on him right now, he was sure, like some benevolent goddess, hacking into some government satellite.

  He kneeled next to the body. The man Kay had watched die. To be thorough, Nick put two fingers to the carotid artery and waited for a full minute. Nothing. He swiped the heel of his hand where his fingers had touched. Forensics could pick up fingerprints from skin easily these days.

  He was going to call it in, but no need to mess with the Portland PD CSU’s collective head.

  He pulled out a handkerchief and checked the corpse’s pockets. Nothing. Absolutely nothing. Not a document, not an ID, not money. Zero, zip, zilch. Not even fucking pocket litter.

  Except a cell in the man’s right-hand jacket pocket. Encrypted. Hmmm. He’d probably used it to call Kay. He’d give it to ASI’s friend, PPD Captain Bud Morrison, for his in-house tech person to crack and to read calls made and received, and any other info. If the tech was any good, they could geotag Hammer’s movements. Felicity could probably trace his movements faster, but he didn’t want to keep evidence from the police. Besides, the Portland PD’s techies were good. Not Felicity good, but good enough.

  Nick stared down at the body of Mike Hammer. Nick wasn’t a big reader of webzines. He wasn’t a big reader, period. He got his news from classified sources and scuttlebutt on the SF grapevine, the real news, not the stuff that appeared in newspapers. He read instruction manuals and military memoirs for relaxation.

  But still, he knew who Mike Hammer was, and realized right now that he was one of the few people in
the country who knew what Mike Hammer looked like. It was a pen name, supposedly because the guy liked his ’30s noir books, and because he sometimes wrote incendiary articles accusing the mighty of robbery, corruption, malfeasance, you name it. The “Hammer of Justice”.

  Nick knew enough to know that Hammer wrote about powerful men and women doing terrible things. Shining sunlight in humanity’s darkest corners.

  Not Nick’s wheelhouse. Any righting of wrongs, Nick did from the end of a barrel. But this Hammer guy had courage and never backed down. They’d had to kill him.

  And in death, his identity would become known. Nick didn’t know his real name but it didn’t matter. What mattered was that the guy had balls.

  He studied the man. Tall, lean, mid-forties. It was hard to read the features because the face was ravaged—swollen, blue tongue in mouth open in a last gasp, swollen eyelids. The man had—what? Choked to death? Some kind of anaphylactic shock? From what?

  Kay had said there was a spray, and that the spray had killed him. Some kind of instant-acting poison. Somehow, thank God, Kay hadn’t been affected. Otherwise right now he’d be looking down at Kay’s face too—swollen and blue from oxygen deprivation.

  Nick didn’t shudder, but he felt a coldness rise in him, an icy determination he recognized from battle. This could have been Kay lying on the filthy pavement, dead. Whoever had done this was a dead man walking.

  Nick took several photos of the dead man’s face with his cell, then rose to his feet. Kay. He had to get to Kay now. The dead man was dead but Kay was alive—and she was staying that way, no question.

  He’d memorized where she was. Ten feet beyond the door to the building, forty feet to the right. Now he could move fast and, in a few seconds, he was where she should be…but wasn’t.