by Cassie Miles
Looking over his shoulder, he realized that Shana was right behind him. “Go back to your room.”
“Not without a gun,” she said. “I’d be alone in this wing. Unprotected.”
He didn’t have time to argue with her logic.
A blast of gunfire erupted.
Chapter Fourteen
Staying close to the wall, Shana followed Luke as he made his way cautiously down the center corridor toward the south wing at the opposite side of the main house. Her ears rang with the sounds of battle. Boot heels pounding on wood floors. Door slamming. Shouts of anger and of fear. And gunfire. Oh my God, the gunfire.
In spite of Luke’s precautions, the Russians must have gotten past the guards. They had entered the house.
And she was walking toward them. Why? Without a gun or any other weapon, she wouldn’t be much help. The only way she could fight back was if she got close enough to use her martial arts skills. These 1945 guys had probably never seen karate before. It might be an advantage.
And she didn’t want to stay behind in her room, cowering behind the door. Too easily, she remem bered how the Russian had broken in to her hotel room in Aspen and overpowered her.
Halfway down the hall, Luke whipped open the door to the conference room. “In here,” he ordered.
She darted inside. The fading light of dusk shone across the table and against the blackboard where Dr. Douglas had tried to explain life and love with a mathematical formula. A new paradigm flashed through her mind: Danger plus threat equals death. She could smell it in the air. Tonight, someone would die.
“Stay in here,” Luke whispered. “Find a place to hide.”
“What about you?”
“I’ll come back for you.”
She wished she could believe that promise, but there were no guarantees in war. And this was war. Maybe not the front lines, maybe not the organized battlefront, but they were fighting for their lives.
Luke reacted to a sound she didn’t hear. His rifle raised to his shoulder. “Show yourself.”
A man rose from the end of the table. His hands were raised high over his head. “Don’t shoot.”
Though the shadows, she recognized Dr. Fermi. “What are you doing here?”
He pointed to several notepads and papers strewn across the table. “Working.”
Thank God, he was all right. It was a stroke of good fortune that he’d been here rather than in his bedroom when the assault took place.
Luke motioned him forward. In a quiet steady voice, he said, “When I give the word, I want you both to run down the hall to the right. The door to the fire escape is at the end of that wing right beside the latrine. Go down it.”
“What about you?” Shana asked.
“I’ll be right behind you.”
He opened the door a crack, peered outside and quickly closed it again. “Somebody’s coming.”
He hustled them toward the back of the room and into a closet. Quickly, he closed the door. Inside the small dark space, Shana stood behind Luke’s broad back. She rested her palm against his shoulder blade. His strength flowed through her. He was brave and smart; he wouldn’t let anything bad happen to her.
From outside the closet door, she heard the heavy thud of boot heels walking across the wood floor.
Dr. Fermi gave her arm a reassuring pat and laced his fingers through her free hand. He should have been even more terrified than she was. The attackers wanted him. He was their target.
Each second dragged more slowly than an hour—proof of the relative perception of time. Shana felt as if her hand was poised above a hot stove, waiting to be burned, waiting to be shot.
The footsteps halted outside the closet. The door handle rattled as it turned.
Luke threw all his weight against the door as he sprang forward and launched himself into a man dressed in army fatigues and helmet. The man staggered backward, off balance.
Luke pressed his advantage. With a swipe of his hand, he disarmed his opponent. Using his own pistol, he unloaded a hard blow to the jaw. The other man crumpled to the floor.
Luke motioned to them. “Let’s go before anybody notices this guy is missing.”
“How do you know he’s not one of ours?”
“I know my men.” He yanked the cord loose from the window blinds and used it to tie their attacker’s hands behind his back. Another cord trussed his ankles. “Got anything I can use for a gag?”
“Here.” Dr. Fermi held out a white handkerchief. “It’s been used, but—”
“It’s perfect.”
Luke secured the gag and picked up his rifle. He grabbed the handgun used by their attacker and gave it to Shana.
The weight of the automatic pistol—a Beretta—boosted her confidence. At least she wasn’t helpless.
“Same plan,” Luke said.
At the door, he peeked into the hallway, then motioned them forward. Shana stepped out with Dr. Fermi at her side. They ran only a few steps before she heard a shout. “Halt or I shoot.”
She stopped and whirled around. Luke stood facing another man dressed as a 10th Mountain Division soldier. He held a machine gun capable of mowing them all down with a single blast. Luke’s Garand rifle aimed at his chest.
“Shana,” Luke said calmly, “keep going.”
“If she takes one step, you are all dead.” His voice was almost unaccented, unlike the man who’d come to Shana’s room. He nodded toward his weapon. “This is a hair trigger. Even if you shoot me, you will all die.”
Shana suspected that he was telling the truth. Otherwise, Luke would have shot him immediately. Instead, they were in a standoff. Luke stood in the middle of the corridor with his legs braced and his rifle at the ready. Motionless as a statue, it didn’t even look as if he was breathing. Was he counting the seconds? Waiting for the other man to blink?
Glancing over her shoulder, she calculated the distance to the corner. At least ten steps. She’d never make it without being hit.
“Looks like you win,” she said. “What do you want us to do?”
“Lay down your weapons.”
Fermi stepped in front of her, protecting her with his own body. “Enough of this,” he said coldly. “I am the one you want. I will come peacefully.”
“Yes, you come.” The machine gun wavered. “If he comes, I will spare you. All of you.”
“He’s lying,” Luke said calmly. “Dr. Fermi, don’t take another step.”
The man with the machine gun was breathing hard. Under his helmet, his face was flushed. His mouth pulled into a sneer. “I should kill you all. Now.”
“But you can’t take the chance,” Luke said. “You don’t want to harm Fermi. A dead scientist won’t do you any good.”
Shana saw movement behind the Russian’s shoulder. It was Private First Class Henry Harrison. In his boxer shorts and a T-shirt, he looked painfully young and thin, but there was nothing childish about the gun in his hand. He aimed and fired three times into the back of the man with the machine gun.
The Russian’s hand jerked wildly. As he spun around, he sprayed bullets across the wall. Then he toppled to the floor.
In a few strides, Luke was beside him. He ripped the machine gun free from the twitching hands of the Russian spy. “Get over here, Henry.”
He padded toward them in his stocking feet. His skinny chest heaved in and out, laboring with the process of breathing. His eyes were watery, and Shana thought he might be crying.
Luke hustled them around the corner. He clamped his hand around Henry’s arm and gave a shake. “What’s going on in the south wing?”
“I don’t know, sir. I was sleeping, then I heard all this noise. I rolled off my bed and crawled underneath. Then somebody kicked the door open. Martin wasn’t in the room. I haven’t seen him. He could be dead.”
“Calm down, Henry.” Luke shook him again. “How many men are in the assault team? How many more?”
His jaw trembled. “Don’t know.”
His vuln
erability tore at Shana’s heart. She gave him a hug, then looked up into his rapidly blinking eyes. “You saved our lives, Henry. You did good.”
Luke took a step back. “Dr. Fermi, we need to get you to safety.”
“My colleagues,” Fermi said. “I will not leave without them.”
Luke peeked around the corner to the center corridor, then looked back at them. “I’d like to oblige you, sir. But we can’t gamble with your safety.”
Shana knew what had to be done. Dr. Fermi must be kept safe at all costs.
“I’ll take Dr. Fermi with me,” she said. “We’ll go down the fire escape and hook up with the men on guard. You go back for the others.”
His eyes narrowed as he considered her plan. Then, he nodded. “The three of you, go.”
LUKE SLIPPED AROUND the corner and proceeded down the central corridor to the conference room. The man he’d knocked unconscious was awake and thrashing around on the floor. Luke flipped him to his back and tore the gag from his mouth.
“One question,” he said. “How many of you are there?”
Dark brown eyes stared up at him, but the face was youthful and frightened, the lips pinched together in a tight white line.
“Aw, hell.” Luke placed the cold steel bore of his handgun against the other man’s forehead. “If you don’t talk to me, you’re of no use. Might as well kill you now.”
“Nyet.” The voice was high-pitched and wavering.
“How many?”
“Four.”
With a sharp whack, he rendered the man unconscious again and replaced the gag. Four men. That made sense. There had been four in the Studebaker.
With this man unconscious and another dead in the hallway, they were down to two.
On the south wing, all the doors on both sides were closed. Five on each side. Shots were being fired, but Luke couldn’t tell where they were coming from.
In the hallway, there were two soldiers down—two men from Luke’s ill-fated command. How the hell had this happened?
He’d stationed ten men in rotating shifts to guard the interior of this house. Yet, the spies had gotten past the guards outside and slipped in here using the simple pretext of wearing their uniforms.
At the far end of the corridor, Luke spotted Martin and another G.I. in full uniform. He motioned both of them forward.
“Where are they?”
Martin pointed to the third bedroom door from the end. “Holed up in there. They’re shooting from the window.”
“Using the other two scientists as hostages?”
“Yes, sir. We believe so.”
“I want three more men up here. And I want them now.”
The G.I. went to do his bidding, and Luke knelt on the floor beside one of the wounded soldiers. He groaned and clutched at his chest where a dark stain spread across his uniform. He needed to be moved before the action took place here.
“Martin, get the medic.”
“Yes, sir.”
The door on the third bedroom crashed open.
Without a second’s hesitation, Luke opened fire. Five bullets. He emptied his clip.
The big man who stood framed in the doorway fell. Three down. One to go.
But Luke’s weapon was dry. No more firepower.
He scooted across the floor, grabbed another pistol. Why hadn’t the other man appeared?
Holding his weapon in front of him, Luke entered the bedroom. The two colleagues of Dr. Fermi were inside, bound and gagged.
Where was the fourth man?
SHANA LED THE WAY down the wooden fire escape attached to the side of the two-story building. Behind her was Dr. Fermi. Henry, still wearing only his underwear, brought up the rear.
The stairs were rickety and slick with ice. She clung to the guardrail with one hand and held the pistol in the other.
“Careful,” she said as much to herself as the others. “Watch your step.”
With the heavy storm clouds overhead, it was difficult to see, almost dark.
The wind hurled small bursts of ice crystals against her cheeks, but her mind barely registered the cold. Her heart pumped too furiously, reacting to a general sense of fear. For her own survival. For Dr. Fermi and Henry. And for Luke, especially for Luke. If anything happened to him, she didn’t know what she’d do.
At the bottom of the fire escape, she saw a soldier in full battle gear and helmet. She waved to him. “Help us.”
He stood, waiting. At least, Dr. Fermi would be safe. He might have to spend the rest of the night locked in a cell with a dozen armed guards standing around him, but he’d be secure.
She descended the final step and looked into the face of the waiting soldier. It was the Russian who broke into her hotel room. “You.”
His sneer was cold, disdainful. “As you promised, you have delivered Fermi to me.”
She hadn’t come this far to fail. When he caught hold of her wrist holding the gun, she remembered her hours of martial arts training.
Using his own force and weight against him, Shana flung him against the side of the building. Before he could turn, she kicked hard into the center of his back.
He whirled to face her. She unleashed a sharp chop to his gun hand. He dropped the weapon. Another kick to his midsection. He doubled over.
It felt as if she was moving in a dream. Reacting without conscious thought. She had the Russian on the ground, facedown in the snow.
She picked up his pistol and pressed it into the center of his back. “Don’t move.”
“You betrayed me,” he growled. “This is not over.”
“For you, it is.”
When she looked up, she saw Fermi and Henry staring at her with wide eyes. At the top of the fire escape staircase, Luke appeared.
He was safe. Everything was going to be all right.
Chapter Fifteen
Cruising on an adrenaline high, Shana tried to ignore the rapid flutter of her heart. Though all her senses were on superalert, it was difficult to concentrate. Events were happening too quickly.
She watched as Luke took command of the situation. His orders were concise, and his men rushed to obey. They handcuffed the Russian spy. Before he was dragged off to the guardhouse, he turned toward her and gave her one last evil glare. His hatred rushed at her like a blast of hot wind in the snowy night.
Luke directed her, Dr. Fermi and Henry back up the rickety staircase leading into the main house. When the exit door on the second floor closed behind them, he asked, “What happened?”
Though Henry was shivering so hard that she thought his teeth might fall out, he wasn’t at a loss for words. “You should have seen what Shana did. It was sweet. She disarmed that Russian as pretty as you please. Then she kicked him in the back and she knocked him over.” His arms were flailing. “Her hands were moving so fast they were a blur. Oh man, it was sweet.”
Luke cast a somewhat disbelieving glance in her direction. “You disarmed the Russian?”
She nodded. It had all happened so fast. If she actually stopped to think about what she’d done, she might dissolve into a trembling mass of fear—a delayed but sensible reaction to the fact that she’d used her scant knowledge of karate to attack a very dangerous opponent.
Dr. Fermi said, “Shana has saved our lives. She is a wonder.”
“A tigress,” Luke said. The briefest hint of a smile touched his mouth. In a quiet voice that only she could hear, he added, “You’re my little tigress.”
With her level of excitement still running high, she wanted to claim her prize for being so ferocious. She wanted to leap into his arms, to kiss him until her lips were raw. She wanted to make love. Unfortunately, the night was still young.
“Follow me,” Luke said.
He strode down the hall to the corner, turned and kept moving. The body of the spy who had threatened them with a machine gun lay sprawled against the wall. Dead and motionless.
Her stomach clenched. This was the first time Shana had witnessed violent death,
and it sobered her. “Were any of the soldiers injured?”
“Two,” Luke said. “I want to get over to the infirmary and see if I can help.”
“Excuse me,” Dr. Fermi cut in. “Dr. Schultz might be of some assistance. Before he studied physics, he was a surgeon.”
“That’s what we need,” Luke said. “The boys were shot up pretty bad.”
They rounded the final corner and confronted the aftermath of the main battle. The wood floor was slick with blood. The air smelled like the inside of a gun barrel.
The horror of what had happened sank into Shana’s consciousness, and the knot in her stomach tightened. She wanted to get away from here, to wake up from this nightmare and find Luke beside her, comforting her.
Careful not to step through any of the crimson puddles, she moved to a position against the wall and waited quietly while Luke organized his men. She closed her eyes.
HER FIELD OF VISION narrowed. A blurry form took shape beside her. She recognized the young boy with dark eyes and a curly mop of dark hair. When he took her limp hand, she tried to squeeze his fingers. He squeezed back. He had the smile of an angel.
She tried to say his name. “Roberto.” But her lips wouldn’t move.
He stroked her forehead and said, “Bella e brillante.”
Beautiful and smart? She didn’t feel wise. Her brain wasn’t working properly. Not at all.
“SHANA,” LUKE SAID. “Let’s go.”
Obediently, she plodded along behind him. Dr. Schultz accompanied them as they left the main house and followed the shoveled pathways toward the infirmary.
Though she didn’t remember putting on her outer jacket, she was glad to be wearing it. The night wind whipped around her. Snow fell in quick bursts.
She thought of the beautiful little orphan boy, Roberto. Why had he stepped into her mind? What did it mean? She wanted to believe she was seeing the future when she would finally meet this child who had touched Luke’s heart. If they could all be together as a family, life would be truly wonderful.
In the infirmary building, Shana took a seat in the outer waiting room beside a scarred wooden desk. There was nothing she could do but stay out of the way. Luke and Dr. Schultz washed up, then donned surgical masks and gowns. They disappeared into a room that she hoped was more sterile than this outer area where stacks of paperwork waited to be tucked away in the file cabinets.