Accidental Commando

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Accidental Commando Page 18

by Ingrid Weaver


  “There will be no base if no one is left in the government to sign the deal,” Kenyon said, stroking a blunt-tipped finger along the edge of one of the white blocks. “Isn’t it obliging of the envoy to gather everyone in the same place for me?”

  Emily’s stomach lurched. “Oh, my God. You’re going to the meeting so that you can kill them all.”

  “If I must. I’d prefer to give the president the chance to resign first, to minimize any international repercussions. The rest of our people are already moving into position throughout the palace to ensure the transition goes smoothly. Once Gorrell steps down, I will assume control. If he refuses, he will die and I will assume control. Either way, the end result is the same.”

  “You’re talking about a coup,” Tyler said.

  Kenyon smiled. “We prefer to regard it as returning Rocama to the way it was before your country saw fit to interfere in our nation’s business.”

  “There’s no way you’re going to succeed. After the attack yesterday, the security is tighter than ever.”

  “Palace security has never posed a problem for a member of the government. Particularly now that you’ve presented me with the perfect delivery method for my ultimatum.” Kenyon focused on Emily. “I believe Miguel would have enjoyed having you present my handiwork. It will have a certain artistic irony.”

  “You can’t really expect me to help you,” she said. “You’re a bunch of thugs.”

  “Leave her alone,” Tyler said. “She’s a civilian. She’s not part of this.”

  “Everyone has their price. In this case, she already revealed it.” Kenyon nodded his chin toward the guard with the broken arm. He struck Tyler again, opening a split in his lower lip. Blood trickled from his mouth. Another man stepped up and gave him a series of hard blows to his ribs.

  “Stop!” Emily begged. “Please, stop!”

  The second guard placed the muzzle of his pistol against Tyler’s ear.

  “No!” Emily cried.

  “Do as I say and I will let him live,” Kenyon said.

  “Don’t listen to him,” Tyler said. “He hasn’t thought this plan through. It’s a desperation move. Hang tight and we’ll be fine.”

  Kenyon gestured to his man. “Shoot him.”

  Emily jerked forward. “No!”

  “It’s up to you, Miss Wright.”

  As far as making deals went, these men were the last ones she could trust. Yet how could she stand by and do nothing while Tyler was killed before her eyes? As long as he was alive, there had to be hope, even if she only bought him a few more minutes.

  She’d told him she didn’t want him in her life. She’d been about to leave him. It had seemed the best choice at the time, the safe and sensible one, yet suddenly, all her fretting about trust and judgment and making mistakes seemed ridiculous. What did any of that matter? The possibility of losing him forever was tearing open her heart as surely as that bomb would rip apart their bodies.

  No. She couldn’t let her mind go there. Not if she was going to function.

  She’d wanted perspective. Well, she should be careful what she wished for, because seeing Tyler with a gun to his head sure knocked her feelings into focus in a hurry. “I’m sorry, Tyler.”

  “It’ll be all right. You shouldn’t get involved.”

  “No, I mean about what I said to you before they came. I’m sorry.” She looked at Kenyon. “Okay. If you want me to carry it, I will.”

  Tyler strained against his handcuffs. “Emily, no! Keep out of this. It’s not your fight.”

  “My dear señorita, you will not be carrying it.” Kenyon slipped his hands beneath the bomb and gently lifted it from the briefcase. “You will be wearing it.”

  Chapter 12

  Emily didn’t know how she was still able to stand. The blocks of C4 that were taped around her waist had been getting heavier with each minute that had passed. Or had it been hours? She had no way of knowing. The muscles in her shoulders were screaming and her hands were going numb from the handcuffs. Her body was trembling so badly, her legs were threatening to collapse. Kenyon’s grip on her elbow was all that was keeping her upright.

  Gunfire sounded from somewhere beyond the conference room walls. It had been going on all afternoon, but it wasn’t something Emily could get used to. She cringed reflexively.

  “Hang in there,” Tyler murmured. “You’re doing great.”

  She glanced over her shoulder. He was too far away for her to touch or to smell, so she clung to the comfort of his voice. The split on his lip had stopped bleeding, though his left eye was purpling and beginning to swell shut from a blow he’d received the last time he’d attempted to move toward her. As if making sure he didn’t try again, one of Kenyon’s thugs jerked him sideways and pressed his gun to the base of Tyler’s skull.

  Emily faced the front of the room again and blinked to clear her vision. None of Kenyon’s men were pointing a weapon at her. They didn’t need to. They knew as long as they had Tyler she would do exactly as they said.

  “I am losing patience, Norberto,” Kenyon said. He brandished the remote detonator in his hand. His thumb was poised above the switch that would activate the bomb’s timer. “There is only one choice for you to make. Resign now. My men are already securing the palace while I speak.”

  “You underestimate my people, Santiago,” Gorrell said. “They are true patriots, not guns-for-hire or corrupt police. Give up now and I will allow you to live.”

  Emily curled her nails into her palms and fought to stay upright. The standoff showed no sign of ending. President Gorrell was right. Kenyon had badly underestimated the determination of the Rocaman government. He’d assumed everyone would plead for mercy as soon as they saw Emily walk into the room with the bomb.

  They hadn’t. Although the handful of palace guards who had been stationed along the walls had laid down their weapons on Gorrell’s orders, not one of the politicians who were seated around the mahogany table in the center of the room had tried to flee or to dive for cover. Like their president, they were counting on the loyalty of their people to prevent the coup.

  Similarly, if Helen was afraid, she was covering it well. She sat stoically beside the president, her expression closer to indignation than fear. Major Redinger stood behind her chair, looking as solid as a rock. Gonzo stood three paces to her right. The rest of the team had been stationed in the corridor. They, too, had surrendered their weapons to Kenyon’s men when they’d seen the bomb Emily wore. That aspect of his strategy had worked as he’d expected.

  Would things have been able to progress this far if she’d refused to help Kenyon? Or would Tyler be dead now instead of standing behind her?

  It had been a split-second decision, similar to those that soldiers had to make. It had given her yet another new perspective to chew on, whether she needed it or not.

  Kenyon squeezed her arm and tugged her to his left, farther away from Tyler. She glanced behind her. Despite the split lip, the blackening eye and the gun to his head, he gave her one of his almost-smiles.

  Warmth flowed through her body, lending her strength she hadn’t realized she still had. The decision she made now wasn’t a split-second one. It had been building in her heart for days. She was in love with Tyler. Totally. Thoroughly. No doubts about it, she loved him. And it sure didn’t have anything to do with the way he looked.

  Great. Wonderful. So she’d finally worked through her insecurities enough to admit she was in love. Fat lot of good that did her now. Why couldn’t she have figured it out earlier? She could trust her feelings about Tyler. He had proven what kind of man he was over and over through his actions. He’d deceived her only because he’d wanted to save a life. Two lives. Even though he’d been torn about it, he’d done his duty, he’d honored his principles. In fact, he wouldn’t be the man she loved if he hadn’t deceived her.

  What a mess.

  A spate of automatic gunfire sounded from directly outside the room. The doors shuddered as they were
struck, but no bullets penetrated the thick wood.

  “It is over, Santiago.” President Gorrell pushed back his chair and stood. “Your people have failed.”

  “No. It is you who are finished. The last of your resistance has been eliminated.”

  The gunfire stopped suddenly. One of the guards near Gorrell stepped forward to speak into his ear. The president smiled. “My troops confirm it. You stand alone now, Santiago. Tell your men to put down their weapons.”

  “Your bluff will not work.”

  “It is no bluff.” Gorrell lifted his hand. As one, the Palace Guards retrieved the weapons they’d dropped earlier and aimed them at Kenyon. “We have no wish for further bloodshed,” Gorrell said. “And I don’t believe these men you’ve brought with you were paid enough to martyr themselves.”

  Emily sensed a subtle shifting among the thugs who stood around Kenyon. She waited, hardly daring to breathe. Oh, please, please. Let it be over.

  Kenyon yanked Emily closer to the doors. His fingers pressed cruelly into her bandage. A shaft of agony made her legs buckle.

  “No!” Tyler yelled. He dived forward and hit the floor in front of her as she dropped. With his shackled hands as useless as hers, he had only his body to cushion her fall. She landed on her knees and toppled sideways. Tyler twisted himself so that her shoulder hit his back. Her heart stopped until she realized that the bomb was safely untouched between them.

  The endless waiting was over.

  Everything happened all at once after that. The bullet-studded doors burst open. More palace guards moved swiftly into the room. From the corner of her vision, Emily saw Gonzales take aim at the man who had been holding Tyler while the major vaulted over the conference table and closed in on Kenyon.

  The palace guards opened fire. Bullets whizzed over her head. Kenyon staggered backward.

  “Get the detonator!” Tyler shouted, rising to his knees.

  Kenyon was already down by the time Redinger reached him. His hands were empty. Redinger turned him over. “He fell on it.”

  Tyler twisted to look at Emily. “I need my tools.”

  Jack and Kurt appeared beside him, submachine guns slung over their suit jackets. While Kurt helped Tyler to stand, Jack relayed his request into his radio. “The chief’s on his way down with the box, junior,” he said.

  “That’s going to take too long.” He jiggled his cuffed hands behind him. “Who’s got the keys?” he demanded.

  Gonzo stooped over the body of the man who’d held Tyler, patted his pockets and withdrew the keys to their handcuffs. He tossed them to Jack, who unfastened Tyler’s first, then Emily’s.

  The major gripped Emily gently beneath her arms and lifted her to her feet. “Where do you want to work, Sergeant?”

  “The table,” Tyler said. “I’ll need the room cleared, Major.”

  “Done. Gonzales, Lang, stay with the envoy.”

  While Helen and the politicians were ushered outside, Redinger guided Emily to the mahogany conference table. “Just slide up here, Miss Wright,” he said. “This is almost over.”

  With Jack’s help, Emily hitched herself up on the table. Any relief she might have felt at the end of the standoff was rapidly seeping away. “Uh, Tyler?”

  He leaned over to take his knife out of his boot, slid a chair in front of her and sat. “You’ll be okay, Emily.”

  “You’re cutting the bomb off. That’s what’s going on, right?”

  “I can’t do that yet. I need to disarm it first.”

  “Tyler?”

  He lifted his knife to her midriff and finally met her gaze. Though his features were tightly controlled, he couldn’t hide the emotions that roiled in his eyes. There was worry. Fear. And a fierceness that stole her breath.

  She took another look around the rapidly emptying room. The bodies of Kenyon and his men were being dragged unceremoniously outside. Within seconds, no one else was left, except her and the remaining men from Eagle Squadron. They were regarding her almost as fiercely as Tyler. She glanced down.

  The timer beneath her right breast was alight with blinking red numbers. “Oh, no.”

  He fell on it.

  The significance of the major’s words finally registered. Kenyon’s last act had been to activate the bomb, whether he’d intended to or not.

  Tyler braced his forearm against her thigh. “I need you to keep as still as possible, okay?”

  She started to nod, then bit her lip.

  “You can do this, Emily.”

  “Sure. No problem. Um, how much time do we have? I didn’t want to look.”

  “Three minutes, forty seconds.”

  The numbers were meaningless. Her brain couldn’t process the measurement. She flattened her hands on the table and straightened her arms slowly in an effort to keep herself steady.

  “How does it look, Matheson?” the major asked.

  “Kenyon knew his way around explosives,” Tyler replied, inserting the tip of his knife beneath a black wire. “I watched him rig a secondary circuit when he taped this on. It’ll trigger the charge if I tamper with it.”

  “That’s an unusual skill set for a politician.”

  “He was El Gato’s cousin.” Tyler pried the wire loose. The numbers kept counting down. “Looks as if he calculated just enough time to get clear when he set the timer. The rest of you need to leave now.”

  He wanted them safe, Emily realized. Just as he’d wanted her at a safe distance the last time he’d defused a bomb. She looked at the familiar faces around her. During her stay with them, she’d come to know these men almost as well as she knew Tyler. This could be the last time she saw them. Or him.

  Oh, God, she didn’t want to die. “You can stop it, can’t you, Tyler?”

  “I can’t stop the timer, so I’m going to interrupt the firing train.”

  “And that will do it?”

  “Sergeant Matheson is the best ordnance man in the service,” Redinger said as he walked to the door. “You’ve got nothing to worry about, ma’am.”

  “Beer’s on me when you’re done, junior,” Duncan said as he followed the major.

  Jack was right behind him. “Hey, Dunk, if you’ve got money for beer, you can afford to pay up what you owe me.”

  “No way. You rigged that last bet.”

  “What do you mean? I gave you five-to-one odds.”

  The banter continued as the men moved into the corridor. Their voices cut off when they closed the doors behind them.

  Emily knew what they were doing. She’d tried to lighten the mood often enough herself when what she’d really wanted to do was cry or scream. She wished she could think of something light to say now, but fear was clogging her throat. She lifted one hand from the table and reached out to touch Tyler’s hair. “Is there anything I can do to help?”

  “Sure.” He pressed his chest against her knees so he could bring his face closer to the bomb. “Try not to move.”

  She dropped her arm to her side. “I’m sorry.”

  “Your touch felt good. It always does. I just need to keep my hands steady.”

  “I’m sorry how we left things earlier. Before…this happened.”

  “It doesn’t matter now.” He grasped another wire between his fingers and twisted it away from the timer. “Save your energy.”

  For what? she wondered, feeling a bubble of hysteria rise in her throat. She’d told him there was no future for them. She hadn’t meant it literally. “Tyler, can you really keep this bomb from exploding?”

  “I’m doing my damnedest.”

  “Because if you have any doubts, I want you to be sensible and leave.”

  “I can’t do that.”

  She watched the numbers flick downward. Three minutes. Her breath hitched. “The other men did.”

  He set down his knife and used both hands to ease a cord from between two of the blocks of C4. “I’m not going anywhere without you, Emily.”

  “I realize this is your job, but—”
<
br />   “Do you really want to argue now?”

  “Well, yes, because you’re being so damned stubborn with this noble, protective thing you’ve got going.”

  “For the past two hours I’ve been going out of my mind waiting for the chance to pry you away from this thing. I kept thinking that if I had let you leave the palace when you’d wanted to, you would have been gone by the time Kenyon got here. Right now you’d have been safely at the Royal Rocaman, enjoying some room service and a telephone.”

  “If I had really wanted to go, you wouldn’t have been able to stop me.”

  Something shifted against her waist. The timer gave a sharp beep.

  “Tyler?”

  “It’s the backup fuse. You didn’t want to go? You seemed pretty determined to me.”

  “In my head, sure. But in here…” She pressed her palm to her chest. “No.”

  Moisture beaded on his upper lip. He pulled out another wire.

  “I don’t want to give up, Tyler. I do want to see you again.”

  “This could be adrenaline talking, Emily.”

  “Gee, ya think? Adrenaline? I suppose it’s possible, seeing as how I’m sitting on a table with a bomb strapped to my body and a timer blinking away what could be the final seconds of our lives and— Oh, God, it’s down to two minutes. The clock is fast. It has to be.”

  “You shouldn’t have let Kenyon put this on you.”

  “Don’t lecture me now, Tyler. I couldn’t watch them kill you.”

  “Kenyon wouldn’t have killed me or he would have lost his hold over you.”

  “I couldn’t take that chance. I love you.”

  He withdrew his hand from the bomb. His fingers were shaking.

  “Okay, I realize this isn’t the best time to tell you this, but my options are kind of limited right now and I wanted you to hear it just in case…well, you know.”

  “Dammit, Emily.”

  “There you go again. You’re always saying that. Not that I blame you. I’ve been an emotional wreck from the time you met me. A scared and self-indulgent mess. But what I feel for you is too strong for me to doubt. It’s got to be. Because I’m terrified out of my wits at the prospect of dying, yet all I can think of is how I don’t want to lose you.”

 

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