by Liliana Hart
Gabe slapped a full clip in his gun as he heard the sound of boots hitting the stairs and coming toward them. He nodded once at Jack to cover him and jumped over the stair railing, simultaneously firing at two of the guards. Jack covered his back and fired steadily at those blocking the front entrance until they were ducking for cover.
Gabe and Jack ran out the front entrance together, shots echoing behind them. They split off and disappeared into the night and sand just as a dozen police cars surrounded the museum.
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
They were running out of time.
All air traffic into London had been diverted or grounded after the explosion of his building, including private planes with high-level security clearance. They’d finally been granted clearance at the military airfield in Kent after Gabe had called in every favor he’d ever been owed. They still had an hour ride by train into the city and a ten-minute walk to Oxford Park Station with only seventy-two minutes left on Kimball’s time clock. If anything went wrong, Grace would be the one to pay.
“I’ve sent an aerial view of Oxford Park to each of your computers,” Ethan said. “It’s not in a particularly good area of town, and the station is a graveyard of sorts for the old train cars that transported coal.”
Ethan had finally made his way to the safe house sometime during the night. His electronic setup there wasn’t quite as extensive as it had been at headquarters, but it was close.
Jack and Logan joined Gabe on the train into the city, and they sat in a car that was deserted—mostly because they’d blocked the entrance at each end—their laptops open on the small Formica tables, and maps spread open so they could determine the best route to take once they were there.
“We have to assume the place is wired for explosives considering what he did to headquarters,” Logan said softly.
“That’s why you and Jack are going to take that nifty device Ethan gave us and look for a bomb while you’re searching for Grace.”
“You can’t think to meet Kimball without backup,” Jack said, shaking his head.
“I need both of you searching for Grace. He’s going to want to kill her as soon I make the exchange.”
“And what are you going to do once you’ve made the exchange?” Jack asked.
“He’s going to want to kill me too. I’m going to try not to let him.”
“I’ll have the station up on satellite imagery,” Ethan said. “Body heat will be traceable. If the area isn’t too saturated with people, I’ll be able to find Grace if she’s there.”
Gabe tried not to think about what it might mean if she wasn’t there. He wasn’t going to give up. And he’d be damned if someone like Kimball was the man to defeat him after all these years.
“Something else you’re going to have to be aware of is the 12:05 train,” Ethan said. “It’s not a passenger train, but it will come through all the same. From what I can tell from the manifest, it’s transporting steel and building materials. Four engineers are on board.”
Gabe barely heard Ethan in the background of his mind. He ran every scenario he could think of through his mind, and still he couldn’t make the outcome end in his favor.
“Gabe,” Jack said.
Gabe looked up and saw the understanding in his friend’s gaze. He knew Jack had come to the same conclusions he had.
“We’re with you to the end, my friend. We’ll find her,” he promised.”
Gabe nodded at the lie. He would find Grace. Whether it be in this world or the next.
* * *
“Satellite is up and running,” Ethan said. “Shit, this place is fucking crowded for a junkyard. I’m counting twelve men circulating the area. I can’t tell how heavily they’re armed. The metal from all the railcars is screwing with my imaging.”
Gabe checked his watch once more and moved faster until he was all but running through the streets to Oxford Park. Jack and Logan had both taken alternate routes, and Kimball would know he’d bring men with him. They were playing a game in Kimball’s mind, and Grace had become the pawn.
“Kimball’s already at platform seven, Ghost,” Ethan said. “He’s having a telephone conversation with someone, but it’s a secured line, and I’m not able to listen in with the equipment I have here.”
“Renegade in position,” Jack said. “Northeast corner.”
“I’ve got you in my sights,” Ethan said. “You’ve got a man at three o’clock and another at nine.”
“Have you found Grace?” Gabe asked.
“Possibly,” Ethan answered. “I’ve got a weak heat signal dead center of the lot, and four guards are surrounding the area. Her heat signal isn’t good, Ghost. She’s either hurt really bad or she’s locked inside one of the train cars and it’s messing with my equipment.”
“Help Logan and Jack,” Gabe ordered. “Be their eyes. I’m going offline.”
“But—”
Gabe flicked the button on his watch and welcomed the silence. He’d slowed to a walk as he crossed each platform, his backpack slung over his shoulder, and his breathing was even, though his heart was racing in his chest. He saw Kimball in the distance but didn’t hurry to catch up to him. The only way this would work was if he timed everything just right. He’d have to trust Jack and Logan to take care of Kimball’s men on the ground.
“So you’re the infamous Gabe Brennan,” Kimball said, looking him over slowly from head to toe. “You look different than the last time we met.”
“As I recall, you were going by the name of Kenrick the last time you did a job for Tussad.”
“You’ve a good memory. It’s been two years since I’ve used that name. I believe your daughter was the last job I did for my good friend Kamir. I had to go underground for a while after her death. You were very angry, and you must have used every resource you had to track me down. But I was always a step ahead of you.”
Gabe didn’t allow any emotion to show at Kimball’s words. That’s exactly what the man wanted, and control was important right now. But he now knew with certainty that he was looking into the eye of his daughter’s murderer. Something in Gabe’s expression must have given him away because Kimball’s smiled faded, and he put his hand in the pocket of his windbreaker where his gun was.
“You know, you’re something of a bogeyman in agency circles,” Kimball said.
“I’m just a man, Kimball. Like anyone else.”
“I doubt that,” he said. “Do you have my painting?”
“It’s close by. Do you have Grace?”
Gabe watched in satisfaction as Kimball’s jaw clenched in frustration. He was surprised Kimball had lasted as long as he had in the CIA, showing as much emotion as he was. An emotional agent was a dead agent.
“What do you mean, ‘It’s close by’?” he asked. “You were supposed to bring it here.”
“Where’s Grace?” Gabe asked again.
Kimball smiled and took a step closer, and Gabe watched the hand in Kimball’s pocket, not moving at his enemy’s obvious threat.
“She’s in one of the railcars, surrounded by enough explosives to level this entire place to dust. And you’ve wasted precious time by not bringing the painting with you. You’ll never find her in the next ten minutes because I’m not letting you go until I have that painting in my hands.”
A train whistle blew in the distance, and the sound of gunshots echoed around them, Jack and Logan giving him the distraction he needed.
“Take your hand out of your pocket, Kimball. If you kill me, you’ll never get the painting.”
Kimball shrugged and did as he asked. “It doesn’t matter. My men are busy taking out your team, and you’ve only got eight minutes left to get me the painting and find your wife before she’s nothing more than dust. It’s over and you know it. There’s no way out of this.”
“You underestimate my team.”
The train grew closer, and Gabe shifted his body weight ever so slightly. “Here’s what we’re going to do, Kimball,” Gabe call
ed out loud enough so he could be heard over the approaching train.
The wooden platform rumbled beneath his feet, and rocks bounced along the tracks. The train wasn’t moving fast, but it was moving fast enough.
“You and I are both going to walk away from here today with exactly what we want. There are other days for me to kill you. It’ll be the last reprieve you ever get from me.”
Kimball’s eyes widened in understanding as the train came by, and Gabe tossed the backpack he was carrying into an open railcar. Fury and panic raced across Kimball’s face as he began running so he could grab hold of the train before it left him.
“She’s dead, Brennan. This game is over,” Kimball yelled back as he disappeared down the tracks.
Gabe pulled his weapon from the small of his back and flipped on his com link as he began running.
“Where is she, Ethan?” Gabe yelled into the link. Long-forgotten prayers circled through his mind as he took out one of Kimball’s men with a single shot to the head. Ethan had seen her heat signature. She wasn’t dead yet. She couldn’t be.
“Veer right,” Ethan said. “You’ve got a man gaining behind you, and you’re about to intercept another coming around one of the railcars.”
Gabe slid feet first to his left and twisted so he had the man behind him in his sights. It only took one shot to bring him down. The man coming from around the corner had to spend precious seconds searching for him, even though he’d heard how close the shots had been fired. Gabe hit his target before the man could even glance down in his direction. He rolled from beneath the railcar and kept running.
“Shit,” Logan muttered. “I found the explosives.”
“Can you disarm?” Gabe asked.
There was a slight pause before Logan answered. “Maybe.”
Which meant no in Gabe’s estimation.
“It’s the next car on your left,” Ethan said. “Check in, Renegade. You’ve been awfully quiet.”
“I’m here,” Jack muttered. “Asshole wouldn’t die. I’m headed toward Grace.”
“You and Logan clear out now,” Gabe ordered. “I’ll get Grace and we’ll meet at the safe house. Is this the one, Ethan?”
The railroad car was burnt orange in color and rusted with age. Graffiti littered the sides in lime green and black, and the door was closed and bolted with a padlock.
“That’s the one,” Ethan assured him.
Gabe shot at the lock and tossed the remains to the ground. Jack skidded around the corner at that moment and helped him push back the heavy door.
“I ordered you to clear out,” Gabe told him.
“It looks like I didn’t listen.”
“Almost there,” Logan said under his breath. “This is a sophisticated bastard.”
Gabe vaulted into the railcar and almost didn’t see Grace huddled in the corner. Her clothes were in tatters, and blood and bruises covered her body. He held back the cold rage that wanted to take over—the urge to throw his head back and scream at whoever had let this happen to her—but instead he fell to his knees beside her.
He felt for the pulse in her throat, saying a prayer as it beat steadily under his fingers and thankful that she wasn’t conscious to feel the pain he was sure to inflict on her.
“Damn,” Logan said. “Less than two minutes on the timer. Get out of there.”
“Go, Jack. That’s an order,” he said before Jack could tell him no. “You too, Logan.”
Gabe didn’t know where to touch Grace. There didn’t seem to be a spot on her body that wasn’t damaged, but as gently as he could, he lifted her in his arms and hopped out of the railcar, trying not to jostle her too much. He growled as he saw Jack waiting for him with his weapon out, ready to guard his back as they made their way out of the station. He didn’t bother to yell at Jack for disobeying orders. There wasn’t time.
They ran through the maze of railcars and across the dilapidated platforms, the air completely still, as if it knew its very existence was in danger. They ran with a strength neither of them knew they possessed, and still it wouldn’t be enough.
“Logan, are you clear of the area? Report.”
There was silence on the other end until Ethan spoke up. “He turned off his com link a few seconds ago, but the satellite imaging shows he’s still with the bomb.”
They couldn’t have more than a few seconds left, and they still weren’t clear of the blast zone. Gabe tucked Grace closer to his body and headed toward the opposite side of the train tracks, his body drenched in sweat and fear.
He’d just placed Grace in a steep ditch and covered her with his body to protect her from debris when Logan came back on their com link.
“We’re clear,” Logan said, his breath a touch unsteady. “She’s neutralized.”
Gabe rolled to his back and looked up at the gray clouds that gathered in the sky, his breath heaving in and out of his chest. The sky around them gave a great whoosh, and it was if the air started breathing again. He’d never forget what the grass felt like beneath him or how eerie such complete silence was.
Gabe turned his head and saw Jack sitting next to him with his knees drawn up and his head down as if he were in prayer. Maybe he was.
“I swear to God, Jack, the next shit missions I’m sent are going to be assigned to you and Logan. When I give you an order, I expect you to fucking obey it.”
“I’ll gladly take whatever shit job you throw my way,” he said, nodding. “To tell you the truth, I could use a low-key babysitting job. Preferably by the beach somewhere.”
Gabe laughed before he could help it, the adrenaline in his body beginning to ebb. He’d be shaking like a woman if he didn’t laugh. Or crying. He looked at Grace and took her hand gently in his, but as quickly as he’d let his guard down, it was back in place in an instant. The sound of shoes scraping against gravel had his gun out and pointed across the tracks.
He lowered it as Logan walked toward them with a bag tossed over his shoulder—probably what was left of the bomb—his jeans torn and bloody at the knees and his gun held down at his side. Jesus, they’d cut it close. And they sure as hell wouldn’t be sitting there if Logan hadn’t just saved their asses.
The soft squeezing against his hand jerked his gaze down, and he saw a thin slit of green through Grace’s swollen eyes.
“Sorry.” Her voice was barely more than a whisper, and he leaned down, his hand touching her brow in comfort. “It was my fault.”
“No, sweetheart,” he said. “It was mine. But I’ve got you now, Grace. And I promise I won’t let go. No matter what happens.”
Her grip grew surprisingly strong just as she said, “Please don’t make me go to a hospital.” Then her hand went slack in his, and she was out cold again.
He sighed and bent to pick her up again. It was a damned shame he was going to have to disappoint her so soon. She was going to be mad as hell when she woke and saw the hospital was exactly where he’d taken her.
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
Four weeks later…
Grace felt the pull and stretch of every muscle in her body as she upped the speed on the treadmill one more time. Her hair was dampened with sweat, and the black sports bra and shorts she wore were soaked through. She knew Gabe was watching her from his own workout in the corner of the small room that had been designated as a gym. He’d done nothing but watch her the last few weeks.
The safe house was on the opposite side of town from headquarters, almost an hour away, and they didn’t have all the comforts of the other building. Or the security. Not that security had done them much good before.
The safe house wasn’t in a good part of town. The building had an outside appearance of being nothing more than an abandoned brownstone with rotting wood and chinks missing from the mortar. But outward appearances were often deceiving, and the core of the building was strong and secure. It was three levels, and they weren’t afforded nearly the privacy they’d had at headquarters. There was a common living area on the second f
loor, and Gabe had opened the walls and put the control room there as well, so it was just one big space.
Jack and Logan slept in the rooms on the first floor, and Ethan pretty much slept with his computers. That left the top floor for Gabe and Grace.
Gabe had barely taken his eyes off her for the last month. He’d barely spoken to her, either. Not to mention he’d made it very clear that making love was out of the question. She’d had no choice but to push her body past its limits once she was able to get out of bed, or she’d try to kill him.
The cuts and bruises had healed over the past weeks. Only a light discoloration decorated her shoulders and back. And while her body had been healing, she’d had time to think as well. It was hard to admit that she’d been headed down the path of self-destruction. She’d disappointed her team and Gabe, but worst of all, she’d disappointed herself. She knew what she had to do. And she knew she needed to make Gabe listen. Because she needed him to be her support—her strength—through this. She hadn’t been ready to accept his help when he’d first found her in Colombia. But she was ready now.
She slowed the machine to cool-down mode and grabbed a towel off the rail to dry her face. Gabe turned his attention back to the weights he was lifting when he saw her watching him, pretending he hadn’t just spent the last hour scrutinizing her every move.
“Gabe,” she said, waiting patiently until his gaze met hers.
He didn’t stop his reps, and she accepted the slow curl of lust that spread through her as his muscles bulged with every movement. His body was a finely crafted instrument, and she never got tired of knowing that it belonged to her, scars and all. He finally met her eyes, but his expression was shuttered.
“You don’t need to push yourself so hard, Grace.”
“I’m fine. And I need to push myself as much as possible. You know it’s only a matter of time until we hear Kimball has scheduled the auction.”