Baby Battalion

by Cassie Miles

  “If you’d done something like that, I’d be mad.” With her hands free, she reached for him. “But I’d forgive you. I’ll always forgive you.”

  He helped her to her feet, and she wrapped her arms around him. The other four CSaI guys were watching, but she didn’t care. She kissed him on the lips. He was her man, and she never wanted to be away from him again.

  “Coltrane,” Bart said, “call the paramedics.”

  “Are you hurt?”

  “Not me,” Bart said. “Victor was shot in the leg. He’s in need of medical attention.”

  And Victor was still his son. Bart hadn’t been the world’s greatest dad. He’d made mistakes, the worst of which was not recognizing the symptoms of his son’s mental disorder. And Victor had done a great deal of evil. But the connection between them could not be denied.

  She snuggled against Nolan’s broad chest, accepting the warmth that flowed between them. Their marriage was a bond that had been stretched thin but had not broken.

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  After answering questions from law enforcement, Nolan dragged Tess away from the Smithsonian. She’d wanted to stay and make sure Lila’s event went according to plan, but he had convinced her—with help from Trudy and Stacy—that having her life threatened was a good enough reason to take the rest of the night off.

  On the short drive from the Smithsonian to the hotel, she’d been on the phone with Trudy, running through the lists of tasks she carried inside her head. When he escorted her into his hotel suite, he took the cell phone from her hand. “Should I order room service?”

  “Wine,” she said. “I’d like a lot of wine.”

  “You’re in luck.” He’d left a bottle in the mini-fridge below the wet bar.

  She cast off her coat and flung herself onto the sofa with her arms spread wide and her feet stretched out in front of her. “I should have stayed and done my job. But how could I? My sleeve is torn and the dress is ruined.”

  “I liked that dress.” He pulled the cork from the wine bottle. “I’ll buy you a new one just like it.”

  “Joey was okay, wasn’t he?”

  “You talked to him. What did you think?”

  “He told me he was fine.” A ragged sigh pushed through her lips. “Everything is kind of a blur.”

  He could tell that she was a lot more traumatized than she was letting on. Dealing with threats from a crazy man was enough to shake anybody. Nolan’s job for the rest of the night would be taking care of Tess.

  “Joey’s doing all right. He got his present from Santa and he has plenty of other kids to play with.”

  “He said he wanted to stay at the Smithsonian.” She couldn’t help worrying after all they’d been through. “He’ll be safe there, won’t he?”

  “A hundred percent safe. He wouldn’t want you to be upset. He’s a good kid.”

  “Brave like his father.”

  “Smart like his mother.”

  He poured the wine and placed the glass in her hand. She took a long gulp and exhaled another sigh. “This event was a total disaster. I’ll never work in this town again.”

  “It’s not that bad.”

  “Oh, but it is. The catering chef was shot and nearly killed. There was a shoot-out in the basement. The police and the CIA were all over the place. And before we left, I noticed that the ice sculpture was melting. The cow had lost its horns.”

  “In Texas, that cow is called a longhorn steer.”

  “Whatever.”

  He sat beside her. “The Alamo cake was pretty amazing.”

  For a moment, they sat quietly, sipping their wine. It was a comfortable silence—the kind of peace shared by people who understood each other and who loved each other. This would have been a perfect happy ending, except for one thing. Nolan still hadn’t heard from Omar about the task force pursuing Greenaway.

  She finished off her wine with a flourish and stood. “What time does the private jet leave for Texas?”

  “Whenever we get there,” he said. “They’ll wait for us.”

  “I’m going to take a shower and change into my comfortable clothes.” She reached down to stroke his cheek. “I wouldn’t mind if you joined me.”

  “That’s the best offer I’ve had in a long time.”

  “Let’s rock and roll.” Her lips curved in a smile.

  “I need to make a phone call first.”

  She winked. “I’ll be waiting. Naked.”

  He watched her walk into the bedroom. Even with a torn sleeve, that green dress was something special—classy and beautiful, just like his wife. After tonight, he felt justified in claiming that relationship. Though not without problems, they were husband and wife.

  Unbuttoning his shirt, he took out his cell phone and called Omar on his private cell phone. When he answered, Nolan said, “I couldn’t wait. What happened?”

  “This is one hell of a task force. We’ve got law enforcement from half a dozen different agencies. The good news is that we picked up several of Greenaway’s men, including the guy connected to the Zamirs. We confiscated all the weaponry, except for one ground-to-air missile launcher.”

  Nolan guessed the bad news. “Greenaway got away.”

  “He’s on the run, but he’s not going to get far. We’ve closed down all the escape routes out of Washington. We’ll get him. Don’t worry.”

  Nolan took off his jacket and draped it over the back of a chair. He could hear the water from the shower starting. “Let me know what happens.”

  “From what I’ve heard, you had some excitement at the Smithsonian. How’s Bart?”

  “Tough as ever.”

  “You take care of that old man. He’s been talking to a lot of people, calling in favors, making arrangements. There are some people who don’t like the way he plays fast and loose with the law.”

  “That sounds like a warning, Omar.”

  “I hope there’s no cause for concern. Just keep an eye on him.”

  “Easier said than done.” Nolan disconnected the call.

  Bart was a force of nature, larger than life. He’d had a month of forced inactivity while he was kidnapped to make plans. Now he had launched his strategy for taking care of Victor with ferocious energy.

  Nolan took off his shoulder holster and pulled out his shirttail, baring his chest. He entered the bedroom. Tess had left the door to the bathroom open, and steam billowed toward him. She was waiting for him, naked in the shower mist.

  He’d only taken one step into the room when he heard the door to the suite being opened. In an instant, his gun was in his hand. He braced himself.

  Bart called out, “Everybody decent?”

  Unfortunately, yes. Nolan put down his weapon and greeted Bart and Soarez, who pushed the wheelchair into the suite.

  “We won’t stay long.” Bart glanced around the room and nodded. “I’ve always liked this hotel. They’ve got everything I need, including a helipad on the roof.”

  “Excuse me,” Nolan said as he entered the bedroom and closed the door.

  He wanted to be with Tess, to lather her body with soap and make love in the shower. But that wasn’t going to happen with Bart and Soarez hovering in the other room. In the bathroom, he watched the outline of her body through the frosted glass of the shower. Her slender arms arched over her head as she rinsed her hair.

  “I’m here,” he said.

  “Ready when you are.”

  “Oh, baby, I’m so ready.” He was aching. “But Bart and Soarez are here. I’ve got to deal with them.”

  She glided the door to the shower open and peeked out. Her wet hair slicked back from her forehead. Droplets of water glistened on her skin. “Your loss,” she teased.

  He couldn’t be this close and not touch her. He pulled her against his bare chest and kissed her hard. His hands slipped over her naked body. She was amazing—sexy and amazing.

  “You’re wet,” she said.

  “So are you.”

  “But I’m in a sh
ower.”

  “Yeah.” He didn’t want to let her go. “I noticed.”

  “Take care of Bart. I’ll join you in a minute.”

  He’d missed his chance for a shower with her. Though he knew there would be other times, he wanted to make love to her now, right now, damn it.

  In the front room, Bart in his wheelchair sat at the table. Soarez was beside him. Nolan realized that his shirt was open. Usually, he tried to keep his scars hidden, but he didn’t bother buttoning his shirt. Tess didn’t find him repulsive, and her opinion was the only one that mattered.

  He pulled out a chair and joined them. “What’s up?”

  “Victor isn’t badly injured,” Bart said. “It’s only a flesh wound.”

  “Is he under arrest?”

  “Not exactly.”

  Nolan leaned back in his chair and waited for the explanation. Bart was a wealthy and powerful man with connections at the highest level. He’d managed to skate around the rules and regulations when he arranged the death and burial of Joe Donovan. What had he set up for Victor?

  “While I was with my son, I learned something about myself,” Bart said. “I wasn’t a good dad. Victor was right about that. I wanted him to be strong and steady, and I refused to believe that he didn’t meet my expectations.”

  “He’s sick,” Nolan said. “I’m guessing it’s something like bipolar disorder.”

  “He needs treatment.” Bart fixed him with a cool, blue-eyed gaze. “Victor was also right when he said that you were more like a son to me than he was.”

  His relationship with Bart was more intense than anything he’d shared with his own father before he died. “You’re family to me—you and the rest of the CSaI guys.”

  “Now you have Tess and Joey.”

  “What’s that about?” Soarez leaned forward. “She’s your wife, right?”

  “It’s a long story, and I promise to give you all the details. But right now, I want to hear about Victor.”

  “He’s in federal custody,” Bart said.

  “How did that happen?”

  “Victor has valuable information about the weapons and drug trade in Iraq and Afghanistan. And he’ll talk. I can’t arrange to have the charges against him dismissed, but I’ve gotten clearance to transport him to a medical facility in Texas where he can get the treatment he needs.”

  Soarez checked his wristwatch. “We’re leaving right now, taking a chopper from here to the hospital to pick up Victor and the marshal escorting him. Then we’ll catch a private plane to Texas.”

  When Tess emerged from the bedroom, she was dressed in her casual clothes. With her wet hair tucked behind her ears and no makeup, she looked young and fresh. She hugged Bart and Soarez. They chatted about Lila and the Smithsonian and what she could expect to find in Freedom, Texas.

  Nolan watched their interaction with rising apprehension. Something about this situation wasn’t right. It wasn’t just the way they avoided mentioning Nolan’s real identity or Victor’s threats that included holding a gun to Tess’s head or the near murder of Pierre. Nolan didn’t know what was bothering him.

  After Bart and Soarez left for the helipad on the roof, Tess confronted him. “All right,” she said. “What is it?”

  “What’s what?”

  “You’re tense, and I want to know why.”

  “I’m not sure.” He crossed the room to the coffee table and poured himself another glass of wine. “I’m trying to put the pieces together. Something doesn’t fit.”

  “Did you talk to Omar?”

  He nodded slowly. “He told me to take care of Bart. I’m guessing that Bart’s plans for his son have made some people mad.”

  “Like who?”

  “He got Victor into federal custody which means he was talking to FBI, the marshal service and, of course, his CIA contacts. Not to mention tromping over jurisdictional issues with the local cops.”

  “Those are all people in law enforcement,” she said. “They wouldn’t actually hurt Bart. What about his enemies?”

  Nolan clicked through the logic: Greenaway was at large. Bart, his enemy, was on his way to a helipad. One of the ground-to-air missile launchers was unaccounted for.

  “I need to go to the roof.”

  She grasped his arm. “You’re running headlong into danger again, aren’t you?”

  “Don’t tell me to stop.”

  “I won’t.” She kissed his cheek. “Go save Bart. But come back to me.”

  NOLAN REACHED the hotel rooftop as the chopper was taking off. The helipad was well-lit but the rest of the roof was dark. The roar of the chopper blades blanked out every other sound. The air churned with hurricane force, and Nolan threw up a hand to shield his eyes.

  Across the rooftop was a square structure that housed heating equipment. A dark figure separated from the shadows. He lifted a bazooka-like object—the missile launcher.

  This wasn’t an easy shot with a handgun, but all marines were trained marksmen. Nolan took aim and fired four shots. The man fell.

  In seconds, Nolan had crossed the rooftop. He stood over the downed man, his gun aimed and ready to shoot again if necessary. One of his bullets must have nicked the carotid artery. Blood spurted from the wound.

  “Joe Donovan.” The man choked out his name. “You should be dead.”

  The voice registered in his memory. “Greenaway.”

  He gave a violent shudder. “I’ll see you in hell.”

  “I’ve already been there and back.”

  Greenaway’s eyes went blank. He was dead.

  Finally, irrevocably, Nolan had his life back.

  From this moment on, he was Joe Donovan.

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  By ten o’clock on Christmas morning in Freedom, Texas, Joey had already opened his presents and was outside playing with the border collie that belonged to the neighbors.

  Tess stood watching him and enjoying the Texas sunshine. It felt good to be wearing only a light hoodie sweatshirt and jeans. She gazed up at her darling husband. They’d spent last night in bed together, and she was still feeling the afterglow.

  “I could get used to this weather, Joe.”

  “It gets cold here, too. We have killer ice storms.”

  “This is a great place to live, especially for Joey. He’d have all this space to run around.”

  It went without saying that she and Joe would never live apart again, and she was trying to convince herself that she wouldn’t be too upset if he wanted to stay here. He lived in a loft upstairs from the CSaI office. The space was spare and clean, furnished mostly with electronics, including a giant flat-screen television. If they had to live here, there would certainly be changes. “Your apartment needs work.”

  “I like our house in Arlington,” Joe said. “That’s home. That’s where I want to raise our son.”

  Relieved, she grinned. “I’d like that. I could still have my business. But does that really work for you? What about CSaI?”

  “I could open a branch office in Washington. Everybody in that town needs security. We can figure it out.” He leaned down and kissed her forehead. “Right now, I’m more concerned about our son.”

  Last night they’d told Joey that the man he knew as Nolan Law was really his father, Joe Donovan. Instead of questions, Joey said “okeydoke” and went to sleep. It was a difficult issue, and she wanted to handle it the right way.

  She waved him over. Together, the three of them strolled toward the CSaI office and sat outside on the stoop. Tess took her son’s little hand.

  “Remember last night,” she said. “I told you that Mr. Law was really Joe Donovan. We thought your daddy was dead, but he’s not. He’s here.”

  “And I love you very much,” Joe said.

  Joey’s little forehead scrunched in a scowl. “Am I supposed to call you Mr. Law or Joe?”

  “I know this is complicated,” Tess said, “and you’re going to have questions. You can ask us anything.”

  “I kno
w what I can do.” He turned toward Joe. “I’ll call you Daddy.”

  Joe gave his son a loving hug. “Perfect.”

  AFTER LUNCH, they drove to Twin Harts, the sprawling ranch owned by Lila Lockhart. Tess wanted to drop in and apologize in person to the governor for the way her Christmas Eve event had turned out. The ranch house was gracious and beautiful; it reminded Tess of an antebellum mansion with pillars across the front.

  Inside, Christmas decorations were everywhere—wreathes, bows, poinsettias, two trees and dozens of candles. Lila relaxed in the family room with her feet up on an ottoman. She wore only minimal makeup; it was clear that exhaustion had caught up with her. She’d rushed to the private jet to get back home for Christmas Day.

  She waved. “Merry Christmas, y’all.”

  “Merry Christmas,” Joey shouted. “This is my daddy. Can I go play with Zachary?”

  “We’re not staying long,” Tess said. “You can say hello and come right back.”

  Joey looked to the left and the right. “I’ve never been here before. Where’s Zachary’s room?”

  “He and his mom live in the guesthouse,” Lila said. “But I think he’s in the kitchen. Down that hallway.”

  Joey took off running, leaving them alone with the governor.

  “Mr. Joe Donovan,” Lila said, “you’ve got some explaining to do. It’s nice to know I’m not the only one with secrets in my past.”

  “Not anymore,” Joe said. “I’m with my family now. That’s where I’ll stay.”

  Before they got too far off track, Tess spoke up, “I wanted to tell you how sorry I was for not being present while your event was underway. That’s not normally the way I do business.”

  “Everything was beautiful. The food was great. You did a brilliant job even while your life was being threatened. I’m recommending you to everybody I know in Washington.”

  The knot of tension in her chest loosened. “Thank you.”

  “I promise I won’t be doing another big party on Christmas Eve. That time should be for families or for church.”

  Joe said, “Amen to that, Lila.”

  “Speaking of family, my whole gang was here for lunch, and we have good news. Bailey is pregnant.”