Reckoning

by Leigh, Jo

  She grinned. “I can only imagine. My colleagues at MIT sucked at partying. They’d all have to talk shop, and after two beers, they wanted to go home.”

  “Well, when this is over, me and the boys will show you how.”

  “You’re on. But what else?”

  “I miss feeling safe.”

  “That one I completely understand.”

  “I’m lucky Christie’s here, even though I wouldn’t have wanted this for her.”

  Tam felt the twist in her gut that had become too familiar. “I miss my parents. I miss them so much.”

  “Tell me about them,” he said.

  She closed her eyes, picturing her mother as if she’d seen her yesterday. “My mother’s family is from Canada. Toronto, actually. She met my father when she was on vacation in San Francisco. He was working his way through school as a tour guide. He grew up speaking Cantonese, so it was an easy job for him.”

  “So, she was on one of his tours?”

  Tam nodded. “By mistake. Even though she didn’t understand much of what he said, she stayed for the whole ride. Afterward, my father repeated the trip in English, just for her.”

  “And your father’s a physicist, right?”

  “Yes. He teaches. Writes. And my mother teaches, too. Education was a very big hairy deal in my family.”

  “Good thing you inherited the beauty and the brains.”

  She eyed him, letting him know she wasn’t buying the corny line. “My mother warned me about guys like you.”

  “Really? What did she say?”

  Tam sighed. “Mostly she told me that men like you didn’t go out with girls like me.”

  “What did she mean?”

  “Somehow my mother, who, by the way, has honey-blond hair, evolved into the ultimate Chinese wife. Overprotective, superstitious, and completely convinced that after I graduated with honors from MIT, I should find a nice man like my father and focus all my attention on giving her grandsons.”

  “She must have really loved your going to Kosovo.”

  Tam remembered the day she’d told her family. Her father had asked her if she was determined to go. When she said yes, he’d gotten very quiet. Probably because her mother was talking enough for both of them. “I wish I’d handled it better,” she said. “I didn’t know it was going to be the last time I’d see them.”

  “It’s not,” Nate said. He caressed her cheek with his fingers. “I wish there was a way for you to see them.”

  “I know there isn’t, but I hate it.”

  “Yeah, me too.”

  “Uh, try that again? You sound awfully insincere.”

  He smiled and dropped his head. “Yeah, well, I do miss them. We just never had that great of a relationship.”

  “Christie said something about your father being sick?”

  “He’s got Alzheimer’s, and that’s brutal.”

  “How’s your mother?”

  “She’s consistent, if nothing else. The whole world revolves around my mother. Everything’s personal, and no one understands. When we were kids she tried to be a loving mother, but the pretense wore on her. Finally, when Christie was in high school, she stopped pretending. Everyone was relieved. It had been too much work.”

  “Even so—”

  “Even so,” he said, “I do miss her. I miss my old college friends, even though we hardly got to see each other. I miss going to football games.”

  “Football?”

  “Go Army.”

  “Right.”

  “MIT has a football team, doesn’t it?” he teased.

  “Probably. Didn’t we have the whole I’m a nerd conversation?”

  He nodded. “So, what do you miss most?”

  “Well, I already said. My folks.”

  “What else?”

  “My illusions.”

  He shifted more, so he looked at her straight on. “Meaning?”

  “Before this, I had all kinds of grandiose dreams about my future. I was going to win a Nobel. I was going to cure cancer. I would be the alumni of the year. Oh, and I’d own a really cool car.”

  Nate laughed. “I’d love to know what kind of car you consider really cool.”

  “A Bentley. Silver. With every extra possible.”

  “A Bentley? Jeez, you are a nerd.”

  She sat up straighter and gave him an evil look. “Excuse me. Bentleys are excellent cars. They’re very classy.”

  “A Ferrari is a cool car. A ’Vette is cool. A Bentley’s for your grandfather.”

  “You know nothing of class. I’m appalled. With all your world travels, you’re just a heathen.”

  “Heathen? Nah. Barbarian, maybe.”

  “Just please don’t tell me you think classical music is boring and that you’d rather go blind than go to a museum.”

  He looked at her funny. “Museum? I’ve heard of Mooseums, where they got all them cows—”

  She laughed, and so did he and it was the nicest, most normal conversation she’d had in forever. He scooted closer to her, put his arm around her shoulders, then turned the TV back on. Just like real people.

  * * * * * *

  Christie had gone to the Renegade five nights in a row, and they hadn’t yet found the right subject. Nate was beginning to think that Omicron made their top level employees sign a nonfraternization agreement. But, they’d still keep trying. He’d been in Christie’s bedroom, where they’d set up the computer, as Boone, Seth and Christie combed through yet another night’s take, but he’d had to move, to stretch his legs so he could think.

  There were just so damn many things that could go wrong. Tam had told him to focus on everything that had gone right in the last two weeks, but his brain didn’t work that way. In fact, the only thing that had taken his mind off disaster scenarios had been Tam herself.

  Jesus, she was…He shook his head at the way his shoulders relaxed at the mere thought of her. It worked every time.

  The woman helped him forget everything—that there was even a world outside their bed. She’d really gotten into it, wanting to explore different positions, not to mention some sex games she’d heard of. Just last night she’d asked him to blindfold her, to tie her up. He’d been hesitant—bondage was fun when the world around you was safe, but when she was in this much danger?

  Turned out, she must have felt pretty safe with him because she didn’t freak at all. In fact, she’d been so goddamn hot, he’d gotten it up twice in, like, three hours. Considering that most of the time he felt as old as Methuselah, it was a pleasant change.

  Shit. Just picturing how she’d looked tied to the chair made him hard. He’d pulled her to the edge of the seat and kept her legs spread wide, giving him ample access to her pussy. To say she’d been surprised when he’d shaved her was an understatement.

  He’d lathered her up and as he slowly divested her of her dark curls, he’d watched her swell before his eyes. By the time she was clean and smooth as silk, she was breathing so hard he had to keep checking to make sure she wouldn’t hyperventilate. She’d also begged him to do something, anything, to ease her need.

  Bastard that he was, he’d made her wait on that. Oh, he’d teased her with his tongue, taking her right to the edge, then he’d changed his tactics, feeling wicked when she’d begged and begged.

  He’d offered her his cock, and she’d sucked him with every intention of making him lose his mind. But he was a soldier and he’d been tested before. It had taken everything he had to pull out before he came, but the payoff was worth it.

  It still amazed him how beautiful she’d looked, even when he couldn’t see her eyes. He had to admit he’d been somewhat obsessed with those until last night when he’d really studied the rest of her face.

  Her lips were smooth and pink, not too thin, but not ridiculously puffed up. Then there was her pale skin, almost translucent and a shocking contrast to her dark, nearly black hair.

  The feel of her skin always lingered, and when he closed his eyes he could re
member the tactile pleasure so well it was almost as good as the real thing. But from now on, he’d add her voice to his memories, combining the warm silk of her cheek with the sound of her pleading to come.

  He adjusted his cock, sorry now that he’d let his mind wander away from the business at hand.

  But damned if he could push away the image of the moment he’d balanced his knees on the pillows. She’d still been tied to the chair, unable to move more than a couple of inches, still blindfolded, with her senses on full alert.

  He’d been so hard it hurt, but he’d taken his time getting his position just right. Then he’d gripped the edges of her chair and thrust inside her so hard, both of them had nearly toppled.

  Her scream had probably awakened everyone at the motel, but since the only residents were his people, he didn’t care.

  Tam had come so fast it stunned him, and he hadn’t been far behind. It had been hell untying her, but as he well knew, there was nothing more uncomfortable than being bound after the main event.

  She still had tears in her eyes when he’d taken off the blindfold and that panicked him, but she’d kissed him, held him, trembled in his arms.

  He shook himself out of the memory, trying hard to remember that he had a mission to plan. He adjusted his cock again but it was pretty useless. There was nothing to do but take his shirt out of his pants, hoping no one exited the bedroom before he’d shrunk.

  His phone rang. He got it out of his pocket and saw it was Eli. Just as he answered, Boone, Seth and Christie came out of the bedroom, and he could tell they’d found the perfect subject. He couldn’t celebrate yet. He turned his back on the trio and listened carefully to what Eli had to say. The conversation was brief but it made the hairs on the back of his neck stand up and every other part of him deflate.

  He hung up and took a moment before he turned.

  The three of them must have picked up on his mood because they were all silent and staring.

  “That was Eli,” he said. Even as he spoke, his anger and frustration rose so fast his hands curled into fists and he could feel the pulse at his temple throb. “A village in Chad has been wiped out by that damn gas! Over six hundred deaths at last count. Men, women, children.”

  Chapter 8

  Tam was more worried about Nate than she was about the kidnapping. The two of them plus Harper were sitting in an abandoned warehouse outside of Overton, a tiny town between Vegas and Mesquite. They’d bought a gurney from a hospital supply store in Vegas, some arc lights on stands from a movie production supplier and the Mikrosil from a friend of Vince’s. The copy machine had been bought at Staples.

  Christie was at the Renegade right now slipping a dose of GHB into Rodney Hammond’s drink. Then she would entice him outside on the premise of getting lucky. By the time they reached the truck, Rodney would already feel the effects of the drug. He might struggle, but not very strongly.

  But back here, there was nothing to do but wait. Nate checked his watch for the fifth time in as many minutes. He hadn’t wanted her here, but she knew her presence would have a calming effect on him. He’d gone berserk when he’d found out about the deaths in Chad. Not in front of his team, of course. But when he’d come back to their room, he’d thrown around a few choice items, only one of which wasn’t plastic, and it had taken her a while to find out why.

  Her heart had sunk when he told her what Eli had said. It brought home too clearly that they had to succeed, and do it damn soon.

  As for her, she’d barely made it to the bathroom before she’d gotten sick.

  After she’d cleaned up, she’d opened the bathroom door to find Nate on the bed, his head in his hands, and he was shaking. He never trembled—not that she’d seen—not even the night of the lab attack.

  She’d put aside her own troubles and gone to him. She wasn’t important now. He was. Nate was their last hope, and he couldn’t fall apart, not when there was so much to do.

  “You want some tea?”

  Tam jumped at Harper’s voice, brought back from her memories to the warehouse.

  Nate shook his head in response to Harper’s soft question. “No, thanks.”

  “Okay, then, will you stop looking at your watch? It’s making me nuts.”

  He gave Harper a grim smile, and held off. At least for awhile. When he checked again, Tam got up, moved her chair to the other side of his and held his hand.

  “Sneaky,” he said.

  “Practical. We need Harper to be sharp when they get here. She can’t be wanting to punch your lights out.”

  “I never understood the reluctance to have women in combat,” he said. “You’re all ruthless.”

  Harper snorted. And then they heard the truck.

  Nate was on his feet so fast he nearly knocked his chair over. But then Harper seemed just as anxious. Tam was, too, she just had her focus on Nate, not the mission. That, she knew would be successful. The team was too good to screw it up.

  Nate had his weapon out, pointing at the loading dock door as it screeched open. He put it down the moment he saw Boone.

  Seth drove in, and there was Rodney in the truck bed, sleeping. At least Tam hoped it was just sleep.

  Harper climbed up beside him with her medical bag. While she checked his vitals, Nate and Seth set up the lights. In the meantime Cade mixed half a tube of white Mikrosil and half a tube of hardener in a bowl. After they were given the okay, the guys lifted Rodney—who wasn’t a small man—off the truck and onto the gurney. He didn’t seem the type to have attracted a woman as gorgeous as Christie. He must have thought he’d died and gone to heaven when she suggested they leave the bar.

  Even Tam had to admit Christie had done her part well. She was in tight jeans, a low-cut blouse, and her makeup was perfect. She’d probably outclassed everyone in the joint. Not to mention making Tam feel as though she could win a grunge competition.

  She turned back to check on Nate, who seemed a lot better now that he was finally doing something. She felt as if she were in an operating room. Everyone hovering around the subject as Cade put Rodney’s elbow in a sling so that his hand was elevated.

  Cade used a wooden mixing stick to slather the putty on the man’s hand, starting several inches below the wrist. It didn’t take all that long as he didn’t want it to dry unevenly, but it felt like hours to Tam.

  Finally, it was done. Now they had to wait at least twenty minutes for the stuff to dry.

  Nate turned his attention immediately to Rodney’s wallet. There was no keycard, but there was an ID card, which he took over to the color copier they’d hooked up to a portable generator.

  He made a dozen copies. As the clock ticked, Harper used a scalpel to cut out Rodney’s picture. When she finished with one, she handed it to Boone, who replaced the photo with one of himself. Then Nate took the fake ID and ran it through the copier again, only this time the machine laminated the card. Christie trimmed the new ID. All of this was done in silence; everyone intent on not making even the smallest mistake.

  They made one ID for each member of the team. They didn’t bother to change the name. If someone looked that closely, they’d realize immediately that it was fraudulent.

  She found herself pacing, wishing they’d given her an assignment. As Nate had proven once again, it was always easier to work than wait.

  The deaths in Chad would haunt them all. But the news had also reinforced their determination. Not only that. The news had accelerated their timeline. They had to move fast. As fast as they could. No one wanted another village wiped out.

  “Time,” Nate said.

  They had finished the whole set of IDs, all except the final trim, but Christie abandoned her task to watch Cade’s next move.

  He touched the cast in a bunch of places, particularly between the fingers. He must have been satisfied because he loosened the putty around the wrist, then took hold of the molded plastic and pulled it off the hand, inside out. When he was finished he had a perfect glove. Even Tam could see the rid
ged prints.

  Harper used some alcohol pads to clean up Rodney’s hand. Then she checked his vitals again, and his eyes. “I don’t know how long he’ll be out. But he won’t remember any of this.”

  “Tam, Harper and Christie, you take care of things in here,” Nate said before turning to his men. “Let’s load him up and get him back to his car.” He replaced Rodney’s wallet and they hoisted him into the truck bed.

  Boone and Seth got in the front and Cade stayed in the bed. Nate checked outside, then gave them the go-ahead. The truck headed out slowly over the broken concrete outside.

  Rodney would wake up sometime in the next few hours, wondering what the hell had happened. By then, all evidence that the team had been in the warehouse would be gone. They’d each have an ID card, giving them level four clearance, and one set of fingerprints that would change everything.

  * * * * * *

  Now that the computers had arrived, Tam found that her last three days were a lot like those she’d spent in the lab. No experiments, but long stretches of solitary work, broken up by lunch with whoever happened to be at the motel. Her assignment was to type in the data she’d compiled about the gas and the antidote. To make the heavy scientific jargon understandable to the layman. Everything had to be recorded, every trial and every observation. She kept putting off transcribing the notes of her failed dispersal system, but that would have to be included, too.

  What made it all bearable were her nights. Although technically, it was her mornings. Nate worked so late he’d come to their room well past midnight. Despite his exhaustion, they made love, which saw them through the next twenty-four hours.

  She saved her page and got up from the little round table. They didn’t have much in what passed for a kitchen, but she had her stock of Diet Pepsi Lime and he had his Corona. The beverages filled most of the refrigerator, but there was also a loaf of bread and peanut butter in there, too. She wished it were tomorrow.