by Amy McKinley
“Sergei was given a cocktail that manipulates neural circuits. We should know something soon.”
She shrugged. “I doubt that will make a difference. We were put through hell in our training, taught to beat the influence of powerful drugs, lie detectors, and other brain-monitoring devices.”
They’d figured as much, but it was worth a shot. As Jack prowled the room, Hannah got up and went to the bathroom. When she returned, she was holding a wet washcloth. His brows furrowed as she blocked his path.
“Stop pacing.” She cupped the side of his face, and he instantly stilled.
Need slammed into him. There was so much for them to accomplish with retrieving the weapon and stopping an assassination, so he couldn’t give into every flare of desire. Her touch was gentle when she pressed a cool cloth to the open cut by his lip. “It’s minor, just an annoyance.”
She frowned. “It has to be cleaned.”
It was an excuse to be close to her, so he let her clean the wound. His hand grasped her hip, holding her close as he breathed in her light and airy scent. His ability to think, to process, was momentarily short-circuited. Her presence was intoxicating.
With a last dab, she put some distance between them. “There. Much better.” A small smile touched her lips as she went into the bathroom to dispose of the washcloth.
Without her so near, he could think once more. Distracted, he registered that she came back in but sat and waited. He needed time to determine the next steps and decipher Sergei’s agenda.
His cell phone chimed, and he spared it a glance. It wasn’t what he was waiting for.
“No information yet?”
He shook his head. “Soon, I’m sure.” He still hadn’t received a call or text from his team.
Jack had faith the information they needed would trickle in, but they had to unravel what they could in the meantime. He turned to Hannah, who was sitting on a cushioned chair with her legs stretched out on the matching ottoman. “Who would be targeted? The President of the United States?” Or someone from Russia?
“Maybe.” Hannah shifted slightly. “Sergei said something... He’d gotten intense. There was a moment... What was it? Oh. It was about the Academy. We were brought up believing we were the right hand of Russia. Invisible but necessary.”
Jack sat on the desk chair and faced her. “You’re thinking of when he mentioned restoring things to how they were?”
“Right. The only thing I can imagine would make sense is that the sleeper program lost power. If they aren’t funded by the government any longer, there would be dissent.”
“That sounds like a valid reason. A political hit using the weapon would serve two purposes—the Academy regains power, and America is to blame for the assassination.” He got to his feet and paced. With pinpoint accuracy, the sonic weapon could target one person.
“I believe so.” A frown marred her face. “It’s a possibility, but it feels right. I wish I had the intel to make that guess more of a known fact. But I’ve been in the field for some time, with no contact from my Russian counterparts. I was to blend in but stay abreast of anything that would be of interest to my country so I could access it if the time was needed.”
“Like Chris and the weapon.”
“Right. If a new power rose—one that doesn’t support the school—I could see the uprising happening. Those in power, the ones I dealt with when there, were zealous in their thoughts and actions. My best guess is that they plan to take control back and to eliminate any sympathizers with America.”
“So target someone from your country?” He paused in front of her, scratching the stubble that lined his chin.
“Not necessarily. They would want the change to happen from within. The message would be more impactful on American soil, especially if Americans were to blame, if they are also targeting US officials. I just think our best bet is to see where the Russian President will be.”
“Right.” Jack scrolled through his phone and found the information he’d requested from Rich in a secure email. He took a moment to scan it. “It’s what we thought. The Russian prime minister will be here tomorrow to attend the United Nations meeting.”
“We need to be ready.” With her lips pursed, she paused. “But the list. It’s important too.”
Jack frowned at Hannah’s still form. Her eyes were unfocused, and he knew she was lost in thought. “We need to get going.”
“Not yet.” She blinked and snared him with her intensity. “I have to find the list first.”
“We can get someone from the team on that. Our priority is the weapon.”
Big blue eyes met his, and he cursed. This woman. She’d gotten under his skin the moment he bumped into her that first time in the hallway of the CIA. Her strength, intelligence, and hint of vulnerability had ensnared him. “What are you thinking?”
A small smile flitted across her mouth. “We need to go over where Sergei went before he and I crossed paths on the plane. There has to be a record somewhere. I know we tracked his most recent movements, but I want the ones from just before Colombia. He probably stuck to his other identity, John Mitchell, which he used for the CIA. But maybe we could check both?”
“I’ll call Connor. He was working on it.” He pressed Connor’s contact and waited for him to pick up.
Connor answered, and Jack clipped out a request. “Hey, man, we need as many of our guys here as possible. The United Nations meeting is the probable attack.”
Connor expelled a whistle of breath before he spoke. “I hate to admit that makes sense. Did you call Rich?”
“He’s in heavy meetings and probably involved in the interrogation right now. If you could get in touch with him for me, that would help.”
“Yeah, sure. I’ve got a few minutes then I’m heading out. Going over some traffic cameras earlier revealed a few places Hannah’s guy stopped. Run these by her so I’m not wasting time, okay?”
Jack stopped pacing, and Hannah’s gaze burned into him. “Yeah, what do you have?”
“There are quite a few. I’m sending you the map with places that seem suspicious or relevant now.”
His phone beeped with the incoming email. “Got it. Let me call you back.” He disconnected the call and opened the file Connor sent. He and Hannah leaned over the screen and expanded the image. Most were indicated by a red pinpoint on the map.
“Even before Colombia, he was in New York for some time.” With her finger, she tapped two notations. “These two are unusual because of their locations by the water. What are these places here?”
“Monuments. This first one is the Statue of Liberty, and here”—he pointed—“is Expression of Grief. It was a gift from Russia to the US for the people killed during 9/11. It’s a huge bronze statue with a giant teardrop suspended within the gash down the center. That may be something.”
“It fits. It would be ironic for him to hide the list there, given the connection that potentially goes against his beliefs.”
Jack cupped her chin, lifting her face to his. “We don’t have a lot of time to go there. My team will have to investigate. The weapon is a priority.”
She jerked free from his hold. “The list is a priority as well.”
Grunting, he stood, unwilling to argue with her. It was. She was right. But it wasn’t what could cause hell to rain down on them first. Once they found the list, what she learned could unleash the assassin he knew resided within her. The information would free her in more ways than one. He wanted closure for her, but it needed to be after they averted the impending catastrophe. “We’ll take the subway then a cab. If we don’t find anything, we leave. Two hours there. That’s it. We can’t spare any more time.”
A smile spread across her face. “That’s fair.”
“I’ll get my guys to start securing the area around the United Nations Headquarters. Rich has already debriefed the security currently in place for the event.”
Again, he called Connor, who answered on the first ring. He quickly rela
yed their thought process about the possible location of the list. “Also, when we find it, it’s quite possible it’ll be encrypted or password protected. You’ll need to take a crack at it unless Chris is back. Then we need to make a copy. Send the contents to me, not Rich.”
“Why’s that?”
“Even though he’s our CIA contact, there are other things at play here. We’ll need the list as a bargaining chip when this is all over.”
“All right. I’m heading out.” The squeak of a chair sounded from Connor’s end. “I’ll update you as soon as the guys are in place.”
Hannah slung a bag over her shoulder then put on her shoes. Jack did the same, slipping on a baseball cap, aviators, and a small backpack. She pulled her hair into a messy bun and wore large sunglasses. In less than two minutes, they were out the door.
Out of habit, he dropped his palm to the small of her back, needing the connection. With his phone to his ear, he waited for Connor to pick up. They would need to have more men to secure the area. The rest of his team was still in Colombia. His teeth clenched at not being a part of the rescue, but Chris had been in good hands, and he knew from the text he’d received while they’d been chasing Sergei that he was safe. They all were.
As they left, he set things in motion. They had to hurry. They hopped the subway in silence, each lost in private thoughts. In between scanning their surroundings, his gaze strayed to Hannah, who was doing the same. On constant alert, they were prepared for anything.
Chapter 30
Jack
With hurried steps, they exited the busy New York sidewalk to descend into the subway. As they rode the train, Jack studied Hannah. With light or dark hair, he found her to be utterly breathtaking with her high cheekbones, full lips, and porcelain skin that felt like silk beneath his touch. She was tall and slender, but the top of her head only came to his shoulders. When he’d first met her, he’d been intrigued by the sense of mystery that clung to her. Even though he’d heard from others that she was nicknamed the ice queen, he didn’t see it. Not until Colombia. One thing he could say for sure was that Hannah was complex. There was more to uncover, and perhaps it would take a lifetime. He wanted that lifetime with her. They were cut from similar stone.
He bent to her ear. “This is our stop.”
The doors slid back, and they stepped into the underground subway station. Fighting the urge to slip his hand into hers, he quietly appreciated how she kept pace with his longer stride. They ascended the stairs and exited the station. The bright light of midday was muted by his sunglasses. He hailed a cab, as the monument was difficult to get to. After a short ride, they were dropped off close to it. “Not much farther.”
With a slight nod, she acknowledged him. They trudged along, weaving around slower pedestrians. After several minutes, they caught sight of sparkling water ahead. From the ground rose a hundred-foot-tall bronze monument. A metal teardrop reflected the rays of the sun and churning water across its mirrored surface in a dazzling display.
As they grew closer, he saw a tower of jagged stacked stones vaulting into the air around the outer portion of the monument, promising crevices to hide what they sought. No one else was there, and from what they’d read online, not many knew of the monument or its location.
They split, with Hannah taking the front and Jack the back. After walking the circular list of names of those killed in the terrorist attack that fateful September day, they climbed the base to inspect the rising monument. Crowding the tower, he traced the surface, feeling for loose crevices or anything that indicated something was amiss. A flash of rich brunette hair peeked through the opening as Hannah did the same.
Minutes passed, and they found nothing. “Jack.” Hannah’s frantic voice pulled him around to her. “Here.” She pried a small piece of tape free. At the base of the gash, the tiny sliver of matching material was obscured from view. Beneath it sat a thumbnail-sized flash drive. She plucked it free and balled up the adhesive strip with hands that shook.
Emotions swirled in her light eyes, and he pulled her against him. The hint of fear and flat-out resolve he witnessed resonated with him. For a brief moment, it was only the two of them. There were no missions, no unresolved issues, and no life-threatening outcomes. He lowered his head and brushed his lips across her forehead. The soft sigh that escaped her lips eased some of the tension he’d been carrying. When she tilted her head up to his, he pressed his lips to hers briefly before he moved to her side and dropped his gaze to the flash drive she clutched in the palm of her hand.
She reached for her phone, and he shook his head. Instead, he slipped his hand through her empty one and tugged. “Not here.” Not too far from where they stood was a bar and grill. After another short cab ride, they crossed the street and passed through the doors. Bypassing placing an order, they found an empty table in the back. Sitting side by side, they took turns watching the entryway and the windows as Jack pulled off his backpack and removed a small laptop. Hannah handed him the thumb drive, and he inserted it into the USB port. He almost groaned—of course it was password protected and encoded. “I’ll have Connor look at it. If Chris was back, we would have access in record time.”
No doubt disappointed, Hannah merely nodded. Jack shot off word to Connor to meet them at the hotel. “He’ll keep the drive safe.”
She pushed out a breath. “I know. I trust you.”
Jack stood with Hannah just outside the pub after a quick lunch. They needed to get back to the hotel, but all he could see was her. The curve of her cheek, the agonizing way she’d put food between those sexy-as-hell lips… He wanted to taste them, to devour her. Each moment their gazes caught and held made him want her more.
Desire simmered between them. A single spark, and they would both erupt in flames. The passion between them had been sensual, erotic, and nothing he’d ever had before. There was a connection, one that left each vulnerable to the other. In the past, he’d had something close, but not nearly a soul-searing link as the one he had with Hannah.
They’d been given another chance, and he would be dammed if he let it slip through his fingers as Jenni had. Hannah was different. Not only that, but Hannah had chosen him, where in a final life-defining moment, Jenni had not. Jenni and I were so young. What I feel for Hannah is so much more. Hannah was his equal in many ways, and he wanted her—all of her. There would be no turning back.
As she looked down the street for the next cab, he couldn’t take his eyes from her. She turned her head to look at him over her shoulder, her lips parted as she said something. He couldn’t hear her. The only sound was the resounding thump of his pulse as his heart worked overtime.
He lifted his hand and brushed her long hair from her shoulder, exposing her neck. Stepping close, he bent his head and captured her mouth in his. Her body melted against his, and he slipped his tongue inside.
Her hands cupped the side of his face as they devoured each other before she trailed her fingers over his chest. She spanned his taut muscles with her hands while electricity sizzled between them. His head buzzed from her simple touch, the softness of her mouth, and the way she fit against him.
She moved her wandering hands to his shoulders and clung to him. When the brush of passing people registered on his addled brain, he broke their kiss. They were in public, but he wanted her alone. Naked. His.
Her blue gaze captured his, and he groaned. So beautiful. “Let’s get out of here.”
She grinned and gave him a quick nod. In short work, he hailed a cab, and they climbed into the back. With her hand clasped firmly in his, he worked to control the desperate need to possess her fully that clawed inside of him. Not here. Not now. Especially not in the back of a cab. But soon.
“Where to?” The cabbie turned, checking Hannah out as he addressed them.
Jack rattled off the name of the hotel, glaring at the idiot until his eyes returned to the road and he pulled into traffic.
Jack leaned back in his seat, just as alert as he sensed Han
nah was beside him. It’d been too long. So much had happened between them. It was time, though—they’d found their way back to one another. Anticipation thrummed through his body even though he knew that as soon as they set foot in the UN building, it would get messy. But that was the next day.
That night was all about them.
It didn’t take long for them to pull up to the hotel. He paid for their ride then helped Hannah from the car, his hand on the curve of her hip. The damn cabbie hadn’t stopped checking her out the entire ride, and he stared at her as she exited the car. A primitive, carnal need roared inside him to claim what was his.
Once in front of their door, he took the keycard from Hannah’s hand, caging her in as he slipped it into the lock. Her breath hitched as he pressed against her back and pushed the door open. As she turned to look at him over her shoulder, his blood roared, and all he could focus on were her seductive eyes and bee-stung lips.
The door slammed shut behind them. He spun her in the dark hallway of their hotel room and pushed her back against the wall, crowding her close. Her chest rose and fell as she dropped her head back. He slid his hand up her neck, resting on her thundering pulse.
He lowered his head and kissed her, not softly. His need for her raged. Emotions warred and clashed inside him.
First, he’d fallen for her, but then he thought he’d lost her. She’d regained his trust, but he was afraid there was still a possibility he would lose her. He needed her. After all they’d been through, he had to make her his, to imprint himself onto her so there was no telling where he ended and she began.