by Dana Marton
“I think we’ve moved away from the hole.” Just what they needed. “Try a little to the right.”
They moved, rattling the whole circus act. Blood was rushing into her head.
No hole here, either.
“A little to the left.” She felt with her feet. “There. We have it.”
She extended her feet up, laid the sole of her shoes against the grid and pushed. It moved more than it had earlier. She pulled back and delivered a swift kick. Dust and bits and pieces of cement sprinkled from above, into her face. She tried to blink it out of her eyes. Shouldn’t have had them open. What was the point, anyway? She couldn’t see anything.
Carly coughed, rattling the precarious structure, making Gina sway.
She braced her legs against the wall to steady herself. “Try not to drop me.”
“No worries. We’ve got you,” Carly said before she coughed again.
They did, Gina realized with some surprise. She trusted these three women as though they were her own sisters. Somehow in the course of the mission they’d gone from strangers to the best partners she could wish for, to friends. She wasn’t about to let them down. She kicked again and put all her heart into it.
She wasn’t going to die on this stupid island. She wasn’t going to let down her friends, her family and the millions of innocent people around the world that the virus would kill. She kicked.
This time the grate moved. Really moved. One side of it was a few inches higher than the other.
“It’s working,” she said, her throat raw from the effort and from talking upside down.
With the next kick the grate broke loose, although it felt as if it was still tangled in something. Barbed wire? Is that how bunkers worked?
“I need to feel around to see what’s going on up there. I have to turn right side up again.” She lowered her legs, began to fall but hands shot out to catch her. “Thanks.”
They took another quick break, then the balancing act assembled again.
“When this is over, let’s put together an act and go to Vegas,” Carly said.
“Stop trying to make me laugh. I don’t want to fall.” Gina reached up through the hole, her arm getting scratched. The grate was free of its base but held down by a jumble of vines. She tore at them, thorns biting into her palms. She could feel blood trickling down her wrist.
“This is not going to work bare-handed. There are a lot of prickly things up here.”
There was a moment of shuffling down below, then Anita said, “Here, take my shirt.”
She reached down and wrapped the material around her right hand, then went back to work. Much better. “Thanks.”
When there was sufficient room, she pulled herself up and supported herself by wedging her feet against the side of the vent hole. Then she cleared the dense vegetation enough to finally see the starry sky above.
“I’m through,” she called back. She couldn’t lie down near the hole, however, to reach down for the next person. The area she’d cleared in the aggressive vegetation was barely large enough for her to stand up. “There’s some serious kudzu up here. Give me a second to figure out how I can help you guys up.”
“You know the way back to the bay. You’ve been here before. Go get Cal if you can or get a boat and go around to come back for us. We’ll get out,” Carly said from below. “We’ll meet you down at the shore.”
She didn’t want to tell them about her suspicions about Cal, didn’t want to dash even that dim glimmer of hope. She would deal with Cal. “Okay.”
She hated leaving her friends down there, but she realized that Carly was right. They had no time to waste. She tossed Anita’s shirt back, broke off a thick branch to use as a makeshift hatchet and began to press her way through.
Once she got past the jumble of vines above the bunker, the rest was much easier. The area on this part of the hillside wasn’t overly bushy; there were enough trees to block out most of the sunlight during the day and prevent serious undergrowth. She went in the opposite direction from the ocean. When she was no longer sure if she was still keeping the right direction, she climbed a tree.
The satellite tower was clearly visible from her perch, outlined against the dim moon in the sky. She climbed down and started toward it. It probably wasn’t the shortest way to go, but from the tower there was a track to the bay, to the boats and Cal.
The night jungle was full of noises, birds startling her by crying out, then taking sudden flight, small animals skittering by among the dead leaves as she stepped. She was a city girl through and through. Frankly she found this much nature threatening. She stopped to catch her breath. It had been much easier before, when she hadn’t been alone.
And then she heard another noise, one that didn’t come from a mouse or a harmless forest snake. Something big was moving through the woods.
Were Mark and his men returning already?
She turned, ready to go back to warn the others. Then she hesitated. Maybe she could draw the men after herself, allowing the others enough time to get out, get away from the bunker and hide.
She moved forward and moved fast, not caring how much noise she made.
The thick canopy blocked out most of the moonlight from above. All she could see were shadows. She began to run, nearly tripped, so she slowed again. She held her breath, trying to hear if whoever else was in the woods was still following her or not, but could barely hear anything over the blood pounding in her ears.
God, she was out of practice. Where was the steely calm she could always count on when she’d been a cop? She had always been able to cope with tense situations, had never lost her cool until that one fateful day with Jimmy.
People are counting on me to protect them. I’m in control. She pictured herself in the uniform, her gun strapped to her side. And slowly she felt her old self slipping back in.
She stopped, caught the sound of footsteps. Then the sound died.
She moved forward again. She wanted the men as far from the bunkers as possible, give the others as much time as she could. But she couldn’t lead those goons around in the woods forever. She needed to get to the bay and steal a boat, come around the island and pick up the rest of her team. Then they could take the boat to Hariumat and make contact with Brant. The commando team needed to get to the island ASAP.
When she thought she’d led whoever was following her far enough, she changed tactics and turned toward the bay, moving slowly and silently. It would take the men a while to realize that they’d lost her, then even more time to get back to the bunkers. She hoped the time she’d been able to gain for the others would be enough.
She was nearly at the end of the woods, could make out another semibarren area ahead. Should she try to go around? How much time would that waste? Were the men still behind her? She stopped to listen but couldn’t hear any suspicious noises. She eyed the low bushes. Morning neared, but it was still pretty dark. She should be able to make it across.
But before she could take the first step, a shadow detached from the trees on her right and slammed into her hard, taking her to the ground.
Chapter Eight
“It’s me.” Cal had recognized her body the second he’d come in contact with it and ducked to avoid the head slam coming his way.
Gina stilled. He’d found her. He let himself relax. She took advantage of that to heave herself up and reverse their positions. What the hell—
“You betrayed us.” With her hands still tied together, she couldn’t pin his down.
He didn’t struggle—that would have just drawn out the fight. He needed to figure out what was going on in her head and talk her into listening to him. “We don’t have time for this. I have to get you out of here.”
“How did Mark know about us?” Her voice was sharp.
She thought from him? That stung. But it was a valid question, one he hadn’t had the chance to pose to the man. “Maybe Sergey found something suspicious in your place and they were watching the lot of you.”
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She wouldn’t let up. She wasn’t buying any of it.
“In the interest of time, I think you should get off,” he said, exasperated, and wiggled his torso. Big mistake. His body sensed none of the danger around them, only her curves on top. And responded appropriately.
He stilled and took a deep breath. Awareness stretched between them.
“One of these days we’ll get together somewhere where danger doesn’t threaten every second and have some serious skin-to-skin time,” he said and rolled them with a single move, planting himself squarely on top again.
“I hate this.” She heaved against him.
It just aroused him further. He dipped his head. “Me, too.”
“Half the time I don’t know if you’re going to kill me or kiss me.”
“Kiss you,” he said a hairbreadth away. “I haven’t seriously thought about eliminating you since that first day.”
“Jeez, that sets my mind at ease.”
“It was unfailingly rude of me, I admit. Under the current circumstances, you must understand—”
“If you think I—”
He pressed his lips against hers, getting lost in the relief that he’d found her alive. She capitulated too easily. Then he realized why. She was going for the gun tucked behind his back. He let her have it, then rolled off her.
“If it makes you feel better,” he said.
She made a dismissing noise in her throat.
He reached for his knife. “Would you like me to cut that off?” He nodded toward the nylon restraint.
After a moment of thought, she extended her hands slowly, without taking the gun off him.
“My feelings are seriously getting hurt. A little trust would go a long way, considering we are in this together.” He sawed and freed her in seconds.
She lowered the gun.
“You scared me.” She was still breathing hard—from their wrestling and the fright he’d given her—and trying not to show it.
“I’m on your side. We’ll make this work.” He had made some plans on his way over, some plans he needed her help with and others she could know nothing about.
He stood and turned back toward the bunkers, in the direction they’d come from. “We need to get going. Where were you headed, anyway?”
She’d been moving through the jungle at a fair speed. In the dark.
Tension pulled his muscles tighter. She could have hurt herself. Bloody hell, she could have been killed by his cousin’s men, for that matter, something he hadn’t allowed himself to think about on his way here.
“I’m sorry I scared you.” He’d been half out of his mind since he’d been woken by Mark and found out what had happened.
“What are you doing here?” she asked, keeping pace with him.
When she nearly tripped, he put a steadying hand to her back, just to be able to feel her again.
“I told Mark I was taking the yacht out fishing and came around the island to get you and your friends. Figured there was a good chance you were somewhere around the bunkers but heard some noise in the woods and followed it instead. Where are the others?”
“Hopefully on their way to the shore. I was going back to the bay to get a boat so I could return to pick them up.” She stopped and rubbed her palm over her face. She looked exhausted. Her gaze searched his eyes. She took a slow breath, then let it out, seeming to have come to some sort of decision. “I’m glad you came.”
The tension in his chest eased a little. Gina was here, unharmed. Everyone was still okay. He hadn’t been too late. “I have the yacht a half a mile from the first bunker.” And not a minute to waste.
“There’s a ship coming in,” she said as they made quick progress now that dawn was breaking over the horizon and there was more and more light to walk by. “We got into some kind of control room and saw the radar.”
“Control room?” What was she talking about?
“Above the kitchen.” She gave him a brief rundown on how their night had gone and what they had found.
“Should have told me you were going.” He could have provided backup or made sure Mark and his men were distracted someplace else.
“Didn’t seem like a big deal at the time. I’ll buy that Sergey found something or overheard something, although I can’t imagine what. But what made him come snooping around us in the first place?”
“Maybe you set off some silent alarm while you were going through the place with your friends.” Mark hadn’t mentioned anything like that when Cal had arrived on the island and showed interest in security, but considering the control room, it looked as though Mark hadn’t told him everything.
Looked as though his cousin didn’t trust him completely. With good reason, he supposed.
“Silent alarm?” She looked doubtful. Probably still thought he was making all this up.
“Look…” He didn’t quite manage to keep the frustration out of his voice. “You want solid answers and certainty, things you could enter as evidence. There’s none of that in this situation. We are both working blind. I barely know more than you do. The first time I talked with Joseph was a couple of months ago. I’ve only seen him twice. I don’t know everything there is to know about the man or how he works. That’s why I’m here—to find more information, to find enough so the people who recruited me can stop him.”
“Okay. I get it.” She held up a hand. “It’s a live-wire situation. Trust is not my first instinct.”
He could understand that.
They walked on.
“So we figured the ship is bringing Tsernyakov,” she said after a while.
He shook his head. “He’s coming in by air. The pilot already took off in one of the choppers to pick him up. He’ll be here in a couple of hours. I think he might be moving up the handover date. Could be for security, could be because of the weather.” He pushed harder, picking up speed. “The cyclone is changing direction. It’s not going to hit the island, but its wings are definitely going to brush us.”
“Then who is coming on the ship?” Gina kept up with him as he pushed his way through vines and over fallen trees, slapping ferns out of the way.
“I’m guessing the buyers.” The thought of a boatload of terrorists arriving on the island any minute, probably armed to the teeth, didn’t cheer him any. He wanted the women gone by then.
“What if we don’t have time to go get help?” Gina voiced his worst fear. “The exchange could be going down in hours. Can we reach Hariumat and have the teams get here that fast?”
Frustration burned through him. “I don’t know.” Had they gotten this far only to fail at the last second? Not if he had anything to say about it. He was determined to fight to the bitter end.
At the beginning of the mission he’d thought success was such a far shot, he didn’t really worry about the endgame. And now here they were and everything could come down to a matter of minutes.
The trees thinned ahead of them a little, the soil turning rocky. They broke into a run, not slowing until they reached the bunker finally.
She yelled in through the door. “Anybody still here?”
No response came from inside.
He took in the untouched lock on the door. “How did you get out?”
“Through an air shaft. They’re probably at the beach already. They might have seen your yacht.”
He could see it from here, bobbing on the surface of the water where he had anchored it a few hundred feet offshore. There was no sight of the ship Gina had talked about. Not yet. Then again, morning mist still hung over the ocean. In an hour, when the sun cleared that up, who knew what they would see out there?
They had to get the yacht away from here.
Gina turned onto the path that led to the beach. He caught sight of her arms and reached out to turn her toward him. He hadn’t noticed until now how badly she was messed up—red welts running down her soft skin, dried blood sitting on top of some serious gouges.
“Are you okay?”
“Yeah.” She shrugged it off and tugged him to go.
Instead of letting her, he pulled her closer, tight to him but careful not to squeeze her injuries. Her golden-brown eyes went wide, but she didn’t protest.
Her hair was all messed up, her face smudged with dirt. Her clothes were filthy and torn. But her eyes flashed with determination. She was magnificent.
“I was worried about you,” he said and kissed her, mindful that it very well could be the last time he was afforded that pleasure.
And as she relaxed in his arms, he realized something else. He knew with sudden clarity that she could have never been just an adventure, another light affair. And he regretted bitterly that most likely they would never find out what could have been.
He was a reasonable sort of man, not given to flights of fancy and wild optimism. He had a fair idea of what was waiting for him in the next couple of hours. He was willing to play his part to the end, but that didn’t mean he didn’t have regrets.
He leaned his forehead against hers, wanting to keep her like that forever, in his arms, safe. But she couldn’t be safe if she stayed with him. He kissed her again, the way a man kissed a woman he realized he wanted more than anything, a woman he was about to lose.
Time. Never enough of that, was there? He tasted her, letting his passion pour into her, claiming her for his own, making sure he gave her something to remember him by.
Then he broke away. “I wish it could have been different. We’d better go, luv,” he said.
GINA STUMBLED AFTER him toward the shore. Dizzy from the kiss, from the emotions in it. Wow. What was that about? And what was the tingling that coursed through her body, surrounding her heart with a ring of pleasure?
It was as if more than their bodies had touched with that kiss. She watched his broad shoulders as he made way through the undergrowth for her, holding back branches, kicking vines out of the way. The more she knew Cal Spencer, the more she liked him, the more she could imagine—
She couldn’t think about this now.
She tried her best to focus on the path ahead and resolved to talk to him once they reached the neighboring island, the commando teams were sent off and they could finally relax.