by Zoe Chant
“Where are they?” Tony grilled Jimmy as they scurried, bent over, away from the noisy machine.
Jimmy, limp with defeat and clearly aware of the gun that Tony was holding, pointed. “They're at five of the tanks. They aren't large enough to destroy the entire resort, but the resulting fire probably would have been enough.”
He showed them to the first, and Amber cheerfully took the gun back and stayed outside the mechanical room while Tony cautiously inspected the first device near Scarlet's office, comparing what he knew to Jimmy's cowed explanation.
Amber was not all surprised that Tony was able to disarm the thing; she was beginning to think there was nothing he could not do.
“It's a very straightforward model,” Tony said with a shrug, when she commented to that effect. “Bombs are not usually as complicated–or as dangerous–as they make them out to be in the movies.”
Jimmy made a noise of disgust, quickly muffled when he caught Tony's dirty sideways look. And despite what he said about the danger, Amber noticed that Tony moved very carefully with the components he removed, and was not eager to have Amber close while he did his work.
The next three were just the same, Tony having Amber stay back with Jimmy discreetly at gunpoint while he went in to do whatever arcane things with wires and explosives that he was doing. The sun was just beginning to sink towards the horizon, and Amber had to wonder how close to sunset the timers had actually been set; sunset itself was shockingly short this far into the tropics.
At the pool, they nodded to other guests who were packing up in preparation of a dinner that wasn't going to be ready. They were careful to keep the gun hidden, and Jimmy was behaving very meekly. Their odd company, and Jimmy's roughed-up face, got a few curious looks, but no one moved to stop them.
“It's not like I was hurting anyone,” Jimmy whined, as Tony ducked into the last mechanical room, leaving Amber with a quick kiss and transferring the pistol to her.
“You knew what Beehag was doing,” Amber reminded him. “And you were bringing him shifters that you knew he would be interested in.”
“I didn't have a choice,” Jimmy protested. “I had debts with the mob, and Beehag made me work for him to cover them ...” He must have realized that Amber lacked any sympathy for his so-called plight, and subsided to sulky silence.
“That's the last of them,” Tony said with relief, coming out of the mechanical room with the device in his hands. “If they make a movie out of this someday, I hope they use really jazzy music and up the countdown to something exciting, because this lacked drama.”
Amber's attention was on Tony, not on Jimmy, nor the pistol she was holding, and she was caught utterly by surprise when he sprang at her, wrenched the gun from her hand, and turned it on her.
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Tony didn't want to admit to Amber exactly how dangerous what they were doing was. He downplayed the risk, but was keenly aware that the mechanical room door would not keep his mate from injury if he failed to perform his job. Fortunately, he wasn't lying about the simplicity of the task; these were very basic bombs, with a chunk of explosive, embedded detonators, and a timer. There were no deadman switches or boobytraps, and the wires could simply be clipped so the detonators could be safely removed.
Elementary.
He just had to think fixedly about the fact that he couldn't fumble the explosive, or cause too much of a static shock, and he grounded himself conscientiously, both mentally and electrically.
The last one was closer to the end of the countdown than he wanted to admit, and he breathed a sigh of relief as the wires clipped and he carefully wiggled the detonators out of the explosive material.
“That's the last of them,” he said as casually as he could, coming out of the mechanical room. They were in a little alcove away from the pool, but he could hear people chatting distantly out there, as if he didn't have enough C4 in his hands to send parts of the wall and chunks of tile raining down on them. “If they make a movie out of this someday, I hope they use really jazzy music and up the countdown to something exciting, because this lacked drama.”
He was just wondering if he was acting too casual, remembering Amber mocking his acting ability when they first met, when Jimmy turned on Amber and pulled the gun from her hand, using Tony as distraction.
Tony had witnessed many acts of desperate stupidity over his years as an agent, but none ranked with watching Jimmy take the pistol from Amber and try to take her hostage.
He was moving before Jimmy had even positioned the gun to her head. It took all the common sense left in him not to fling the only thing he had at hand at the scene, but considering that it would have been a chunk of C4, Tony was glad that he retained enough control to instead place it gently on the ground before he sprang for Jimmy and smashed him across the face with a fist, grabbing the gun and wrenching it away.
Jimmy crumbled before his onslaught, and Amber spun away from the action sensibly.
“How did you know I wouldn't shoot her?” Jimmy whined, putting up hands in surrender.
“There weren't any shots left in the gun,” Tony told him. “I lied and banked on the fact that you wouldn't have been smart enough to count them when they were fired.”
Jimmy cursed, colorfully, and Tony clipped him across the temple with the butt of the gun, knocking him out with a blow that he actually restrained.
Amber swallowed. “I guess you're a better actor than I gave you credit for,” she said with a hiccup. “I believed you.”
“That was what sold the deception,” Tony assured her. He hadn't liked leaving her with such minimal protection, but he knew that as long as both of them had believed it, it would work.
Amber nudged Jimmy with a toe, drawing in a breath. The unconscious man didn't move, but Tony wasn't going to take a chance. He found a roll of duct tape on a shelf in the mechanical room, and bound his arms and ankles with more roughness than was strictly needed.
Amber helped tear off pieces of the tape, then stood back when they were finished. “You really are my white knight,” she said, lifting her face to smile shakily at Tony.
Tony couldn't speak, too overwhelmed by the emotion rising in the wake of adrenaline and fear. He was suddenly, keenly aware that they were both still naked. What had become almost pedestrian was sharply important again, and he could not resist the silky velvet of her skin.
His first gentle touch raised goosebumps on her arm. His second made the breath catch in her throat, and he could see the fragile pulse at her throat quicken.
“The mechanical room has a lock,” he suggested, voice husky with need. He wasn't sure how he was going to get politely back across the pool deck with the hard-on that was rising.
Amber didn't answer, only followed him into the dim room and scratched his arms lightly with her nails. Her eyes told him that she was feeling as much need and desire as he was, and he was unsurprised to find that she was wet and pliable when he sent questing fingers to her nether lips.
“Yes,” she breathed as he stroked her.
He cast about the room for a comfortable place to take her, but she was gripping him with more urgency now, and drawing him down to the floor, too consumed with her rising lust to care for comfort.
He willingly followed.
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Amber felt like she was on a roller-coaster. She had spent the day afraid for her life, for Tony's life, and for their freedom. She had never realized how important another person could be to her, and now that the danger was past, she wanted nothing more than to be close to Tony, to feel his skin against hers, to feel him inside her, to have his big shoulders under her hands.
When he touched her, it felt like her nerves were on fire. Rational thought was gone, and when he stroked her lower lips, she thought she might explode.
But it wasn't enough, she wanted him closer, more a part of her, so she reached out and cupped his big, hard erection, drawing him towards her waiting entrance.
; He gasped at her fingers, and shivered in need. Amber arched up to meet him, and he responded with the same urgency and animal desire that she was feeling.
He entered her with admirable restraint–Amber could feel him holding himself back, trying to stay gentle and controlled, and she was desperate for more. She was elemental, wild, and filled with need and lust.
She moaned, drawing him faster, and clawed at his muscled back, begging him wordlessly to hurry, to take her faster, harder, and when it worked more slowly than she needed, she bit him, drawing an excited yelp from him.
They rolled together on the utility room floor, colliding into a shelf with nearly disastrous results, and ended with Amber on top, straddling him. He thrust up at her hungrily, and she met his need with her own, riding him and clawing frantically. She wanted him deeper, closer, harder, and drew him into herself as if she could devour him.
He groaned, and drew her down for a kiss that completed her.
And then they were one, thrusting together in perfect sensual symmetry.
There was no thought for the hard floor or the hum of machinery, or for the trauma and stress of the frantic past day, it was only two of them, perfect mates fitted perfectly together like pieces of a puzzle. They slid and frenzied together in beautiful, musical harmony, and crested into a peak of pleasure that sweated out the last of their fear and anxiety.
Afterwards, they lay together for a long moment side-by-side, panting, until the discomfort of the cold floor finally penetrated their sexual afterglow.
Amber sat up, and felt an unexpected amount of satisfaction and soreness. “If this were a spy movie, they'd run the credits now,” she said, rubbing at a spot on her shoulder that had gotten bruised.
“If this were a movie, they would have faded to black over the credits some time ago,” Tony laughed with a rumble.
“Depends on the rating,” Amber laughed back at him, then sobered. “What really happens now?” she asked.
Tony's eyes met hers intensely. “You're my mate,” he said. “I belong with you, wherever that ends up being.”
“You'd leave DC to be with me?”
Tony looked martyred. “Yes, I would even live in the Midwest with you.” His voice suggested what a sacrifice he would consider this.
Amber pondered. “I've never been to the East Coast.”
Tony looked hopeful. “Let me show it to you,” he said. “If you hate it, we can live anywhere else.”
“I hear the cherry trees in spring are quite the sight,” Amber said thoughtfully. “And if I could have a garden...”
“I'll buy you a house in Maryland with an acre of land,” Tony promised expansively. “You can grow anything you want.”
“Talk dirty to me,” Amber said, and she leaned over and kissed him, deeply. Like him, she wasn't sure it mattered where they went–as long as they were together.
Chapter Thirty
The laundry room was part of the mechanical room, and Tony found clean bathrobes in a laundry basket for them to put on. It felt distinctly odd to be covered again, after spending so much time nude by necessity.
They came out of the mechanical room to find that the guests were gathered in the bar, quite sure by now that something was up. The new bartender, a tall, muscular blond with a thick Texan accent, had taken charge and was handing out drinks and snacks to the best of his ability, and he had ransacked the kitchen to provide a makeshift meal of grilled meat.
He immediately asked Tony if he knew what was happening.
“I'll... let Scarlet explain when she gets back,” Tony said vaguely, not wanting to try to guess what story the owner was going to have for the events of the day.
The bartender seemed satisfied with the idea that she would be coming back, and went back to expertly flipping burgers and handing them out to the mystified guests.
It was hours before Scarlet did return, driving an overloaded Jeep at the head of a ragtag caravan of vehicles full of people and animals.
Scarlet did her best to give Tony the idea that he had handled everything completely wrong, and sent her people running for bathrobes and food.
“I could have been bartending in Las Vegas,” the Texan muttered, bringing a pile of cold hamburgers from the walk-in fridge that the inhabitants of the zoo fell on as if it was ambrosia. No one offered him answers as to why Scarlet was one of the only ones still wearing clothing, or where the very confused and jumpy collection of odd shifters had come from.
“Thank you for saving the resort,” Scarlet said grudgingly to Tony at last.
Tony had the grace to allow that the resort wouldn't have been at risk if he hadn't been investigating.
Scarlet raised an eyebrow at him but didn't comment further.
“What did you do with Beehag?” Tony asked.
Scarlet's face was inscrutable in the pre-dawn light, but Tony suspected that full daylight wouldn't have revealed much more there. “He didn't make it.”
Amber gasped. “Did you...?”
Scarlet's look was the sort you gave hysterical people and children. “The stimulant Jimmy gave him to counteract the tranquilizers was too much for his system. He never regained consciousness. Chef is a fully licensed doctor in Costa Rica, and we've already called it in to the mainland. I trust you have Jimmy? He'll be answering for that crime, among others.”
Tony confirmed Jimmy's location and state of restraint. “And the guards?” None of them were among the milling refugees.
“The cages will be serving their purpose until the authorities get there.” Amber suspected it was satisfaction she was hearing in Scarlet's voice.
Scarlet turned away to answer a question about housing and was drawn back into the crowd.
“Amber? Scarlet says your name is Amber?”
Amber turned and furrowed her eyebrows at the stranger who hailed her. She was a short woman with straight brown hair that clearly hadn't been cut in years. Her brown eyes were light, almost gold in the poor light of the deck.
Amber sucked in her breath. “Yes, I'm Amber,” she said.
“You're... you're a mountain cat, I saw you. An Andean mountain cat.” Her voice was rusty, as if she hadn't spoken in years, and she winced when she walked closer to Amber, clutching at her side; blood had already stained through the white robe. She completely ignored Tony.
Amber realized, “You're the ocelot who helped us get the helicopter.”
“Did you... know your father?” the woman blurted.
Amber swallowed hard. “I didn't know either of my parents,” she said in a small voice.
Tears were spilling out of the woman's eyes, but she smiled radiantly. “Yes, I'm the ocelot,” she confirmed hoarsely. “Your father was an Andean mountain cat. I never knew for sure if he got you out or not, but I told him I wasn't going to let you grow up in a cage. He didn't want to go, and I'm sure he didn't want to leave you anymore than he wanted to leave me. He must have been in danger, to leave you, and not return to me. I'm... sorry you never knew him. He was very brave.”
Tony was holding her hand, keeping her up with the touch, and when Amber couldn't speak, he offered gently, “I think Amber gets that from both sides. You tipped the balance in our battle, and probably saved our lives and the resort.”
Amber could finally speak. “You're my... mother?”
The woman opened her arms, and Amber fell gently into them.
“My sweet baby girl,” the woman murmured, stroking her hair. “You grew up so beautiful.”
Amber wept, and hugged her back too hard, making the woman gasp in pain. She garbled an apology, letting go and then squeezing the woman's shoulders more gently. She shook and laughed with the overwhelming emotion. “My mother!” She turned to grin in disbelief at Tony.
Tony drew himself up straight, suddenly the object of the woman's full attention.
“So, you're my daughter's mate,” she said critically. She sniffed, looked him up and down, and then said, “You'll do. Releasing us from Beehag's prison was a good
first step towards earning my favor.”
“Your daughter did a lot of the hard work there,” Tony suggested, earning himself a warm smile.
“Yes, you'll do,” she repeated, more confidently.
They saw her to the room that Scarlet had assigned her, and Tony completely won her heart by making her bed–the staff had not had time to set up all the rooms.
“It's lovely to be human again,” she said thoughtfully, stretching her fingers. “A little odd, but I like the idea of clean sheets and a bed.”
Amber left her with a long, tearful hug and went with Tony to his house–she had already volunteered her house for a few of the refuges. Despite the fact that the sun was already rising, and Tony was exhausted in every pore of his aching body, he was not quite ready to climb between their sheets and find sleep, and he could sense that Amber felt the same way. They made their way to the deck and sat together on the loveseat.
“Is being a superspy always like this?” Amber asked, snuggling against him.
“I promise it isn't,” Tony said sincerely. “Something like this means way too much paperwork. We're usually much more about donuts and meetings and Powerpoint presentations.”
Amber giggled, then asked seriously, “What would I do in DC?”
“Whatever you wanted,” Tony promised. “There are garden stores there, if you wanted to work. Or you could be a housewife, if you didn't.”
She froze beside him. “A … housewife? That would mean I was ...”
Tony groaned. “I'm doing this all backwards again,” he apologized, and he leaned over and kissed her head before getting off the loveseat to kneel at her feet. “I don't have a ring, I'm sorry.”