Shadow Soldier

by Dana Marton

  “It’s fine.” He moved away at last. “Now you’re connected to my cell phone.”

  “How do I call you?”

  “The microphone is voice activated. If we get separated I set my phone to Receiver On. Then when you speak, my phone buzzes to let me know. I should be able to hear everything you say. If I need to reach you, I set the phone on the right channel and talk to you through the ear piece.”

  “What’s the range on this?”

  “It’s dependable up to fifty miles, beyond that it tends to cut in and out.” He looked pleased with himself.

  Men and their gadgets. She shook her head, as he moved on to set up the rest of the electronics, attaching sensors to the windows and doors, fiddling with his cell phone as it emitted a series of beeps.

  “Isn’t the house secure already?”

  “For regular stuff.” Contempt for whatever “regular stuff” was rang clear in his voice.

  “You’re not a regular kind of guy, are you?” The question slipped.

  He gave her an inscrutable look.

  She watched as he worked, his movements fast and efficient. He set up both upstairs and down. By the time he did the final walkthrough to survey his handiwork, moonlight peeked through the windows.

  He packed up his bag and tossed it in the corner, then grabbed his gun and tucked it into his waistband behind his back. “I’m going outside for a quick walk around the property. I’ll set the system behind me. Why don’t you take a shower and relax.”

  She hesitated for less than two seconds before she decided to go for it. Having people shoot at you had a way of making anyone sweat, not to mention the muggy heat that showed no sign of letting up. Cool water sure sounded tempting.

  She waited until Alex left, then walked into the bathroom. Now what? He had told her not to use any lights, but if she closed the door she couldn’t see anything. She could leave the door open to let some moonlight filter in from the living room, but she wasn’t prepared to get naked when Alex could come back at any time. She closed the door, put a rolled-up towel at the bottom to block the gap, and turned on the light. Much better.

  She took off the necklace, since Alex hadn’t said whether it was okay or not to get it wet, but struggled with getting a grip on the earpiece so she decided to leave it in and just be careful. She made quick work of bathing, feeling vulnerable without Alex in the house.

  Her only regret was having to put on the same underwear. The only other option, wash it and let it dry until morning, was out of the question. Spending the night with Alex sans undies fell miles outside her comfort zone, even if she had on occasion contemplated just such a possibility while watching him pump iron at the gym.

  The man had turned out to be nothing like she’d built him up in her fantasies—a nice-but-fun businessman, gentle, safe. She couldn’t handle Rambo.

  She turned the light off before she opened the door, then stood there for a second or two until her eyes adjusted to the dark. The living room seemed bigger than before, full of shadows. She moved toward the couch, each step filled with hesitation and nervous readiness to run at the first sign of danger. It was hard not to think about the shooter out there somewhere, coming to finish the job. She sat, not knowing what else to do, her eyes glued to the front windows. What if the man had managed to follow them and had already taken Alex out? What if she was alone? She could be sitting in the crosshairs right now.

  And she had forgotten to put the necklace back on. She needed to get it.

  A twig cracked outside, and the sound sent her bolting across the room. Her knees trembled as she plastered herself against the north wall. The night seemed quiet again, strangely so. She listened for anything that might have told her someone was outside. A minute went by in complete silence, then another.

  Then it felt silly to be standing flat against the wall like a freeze frame from an action thriller. Sheesh. She couldn’t fall apart. Not now. Alex was out there, protecting her. He didn’t look the type of man who would be easily taken. The noise outside the window had been probably a squirrel, or the wind, or even Alex, checking the bushes. She had to get it together and gain control of her nerves. She was in a safe house with an armed guard outside. Everything was going to be fine.

  She just about convinced herself it was safe to walk to the bathroom for the necklace when she caught a glimpse of a shadow passing by the back window. Her heart lurched and sent blood rushing through her panic-stiffened body. She held her breath as she stared at the spot, but the movement didn’t repeat. She waited. Nothing. Was Alex coming back? But then, why didn’t he open the door already? What was he waiting for?

  Unease lifted the short hairs at her nape and she moved inch by inch into the darkest spot in the room, the shadow of the staircase. She heard some scraping at the door, the noise so faint she wasn’t sure if she had just imagined it. Her gaze darted around for a weapon. Where was a baseball bat when you needed one? Or a ball, for that matter. She’d been the best pitcher on the embassy team in China.

  A good frying pan would have done as well, but she was too far from the kitchen. No heavy candle holders, either, and not a poker in sight, the living room didn’t have a fireplace. The nearest piece of furniture was an end table with a few of the dog-eared magazines she had paged through earlier.

  Great. Someone was breaking in and the worst she would be able to do was to give him a paper cut. Moonlight glinted on something half-covered by a magazine—an ashtray. She grabbed it, pleased at the weight of the heavy glass, then watched in wide-eyed alarm as the door opened without sound.

  Seconds passed before she could see the dark figure creeping forward—the intruder was shorter than Alex. He looked around, then disarmed the alarm.

  So much for security.

  The man stole forward in silence, or if he made noise she sure couldn’t hear it through the rushing blood in her ears. She had only one chance. She aimed the ashtray for the spot between his eyes and hurled it through the air with all her strength.

  ALEX FLIPPED OPEN his vibrating cell phone. Security breach at the back door. Damn it, Nicola. He’d told her to stay put. He moved toward the house, waiting for the alarm to go off. He hadn’t shown her how to disarm it for a reason. But as he neared the house, he didn’t hear the low-pitched sound, set loud enough only to alert those in the house but not the whole countryside.

  Someone had disabled the system. He held his gun at the ready but didn’t rush. Couldn’t afford to make a mistake now. He set the phone on the right channel to communicate with her. “Nicola?”

  No response.

  He kept in the shadow of the house, close to the wall. The back door stood open. Nobody outside that he could see. Keeping his body in cover, he looked inside. A dark figure of a man loomed in the living room. He was rising from his knees.

  Alex tucked the gun behind his back, not wanting to alert with gunfire the intruder’s partners if he had any. He stepped inside, careful not to make any noise, then launched himself at the man. An elbow slammed into his stomach hard, but he’d been ready for it. His right hand went around the man’s neck, going for the windpipe.

  “Basta, Rodriguez, get off me.” The muffled words stopped him on the brink of doing permanent damage.

  He let go but got his gun ready as he allowed the man to turn around.

  “Spike, you dumbass.” He stepped back to the door and closed it. “I almost killed you.”

  “If I wasn’t half-knocked-out already, you couldn’t have gotten within half a mile of me.” Spike limped to the couch.

  Alex spotted Nicola pressed against the wall by the staircase. He stared at her neck. “Where is your necklace?”

  “I took it off for the shower.”

  She was safe. He felt too relieved to be appropriately annoyed. “Don’t ever do that again. You all right?”

  “Got a bump on my forehead the size of a small egg,” Spike answered instead.

  “You deserve it. ¿Qué quieres?”

  “The
Colonel said to see if you recovered yet.”

  “He probably meant to ask me, to see if I looked healthy enough. Are you crazy, coming in like that? I could have killed you.” He didn’t even want to think about it.

  “You could have tried.” Spike shrugged, cocky as hell.

  Alex shook his head and bit back his frustration. Both anger and a lecture would have been wasted on the man. Spike was famous for some of the asinine dares he had taken while they’d been in training together. He’d been a daredevil through and through, had bragged that nothing would cure him of it but a body bag.

  “Didn’t learn much from cracking your skull, did you? What are you doing in the States?”

  The idiot grinned. “Had to deliver a package.”

  So Spike had brought a terrorist suspect back for interrogation. Alex wondered who it was, what group. Last he knew, Spike was trying to take down an Arab cell in Germany. Sounded like he had a successful mission.

  Alex envied the man. This glorified baby-sitting—hiding from the terrorists rather than going after them—went against every instinct he had, not to mention his training. “Did you check out the market in Devon?”

  “They used an Uzi, not what I call a hot lead. Anyone can buy those on the Internet since the Soviet Union broke up. Not much of a shooter. The bullets went way high.”

  “Do you work with Alex?” Nicola spoke finally.

  “God forbid.”

  “Sorry about the ashtray.”

  “Don’t mention it.” Spike grinned. “Good aim.”

  “Did you get my birds?”

  “Yeah. They’re fine. I pulled the car off the road about a mile east of here. Wanted to see how good the protection was you were getting. With Alex being in a ‘delicate’ condition and all, the Colonel was wondering if you might need a real man on the job.”

  “I’ll show you real.” Alex moved toward him.

  Spike maneuvered around the couch and out of his grasp, his blue eyes sparkling with humor. “I better go bring in your stuff.”

  Alex had half a mind to go after him just to see if he’d learned any new moves since they’d last seen each other, but then thought better of it. No sense acting like two immature schoolboys in front of Nicola. “Pull into the barn, there’s plenty of room.”

  He watched the man walk out the door and rub his swollen forehead. At least he could find some satisfaction in that. Nicola had brought Spike down. The lady definitely bore watching.

  After Spike had gone, he gave credit where credit was due. “Well done,” he said, unable to resist a grin. He liked a woman who could take care of herself. Of course, to be truthful, he liked most everything about Nicola.

  She grinned back, her face bathed in moonlight, her silhouette accented against the window. It reminded him of a specific fantasy he’d spent considerable time on during the unbearably slow nights in the treehouse. In his mind he had explored every tempting inch of her body— He caught himself and shelved that particular memory. Those were things he needed to forget instead of dwelling on them. He was here to do a job. That’s what he had to focus on.

  Not an easy task. She was dangerous in the moonlight—and not just to his libido. He grinned again. It would be a long time before he would let Spike live down the ashtray. Nailed by a civilian—a woman at that. “Have to remember not to turn my back to you.”

  She smiled innocently, wide-eyed, but he wasn’t buying any of it. Not even when she said, “I wouldn’t hurt you. We’re on the same team.”

  Sounded strange coming out of her mouth. He wasn’t much of a team player, worked mostly lone-wolf infiltration. Takedowns that required teamwork were few and far between. But in the three years since the SDDU came into being, they had taken more than a hundred terrorists out of the picture and stopped dozens of attacks. Unfortunately, as soon as they neutralized one bad guy, two took his place. SDDU soldiers fought against insurmountable odds in operations that the American public and the rest of the world knew nothing about.

  And he preferred it that way. He wasn’t in it for the glory. The job had to be done and he had the skills to do it. He had no family depending on him; he could afford to risk more than others. The work was its own reward—the rush of adrenaline, the test of his mind and body against others, the satisfaction of knowing that he made a difference. He didn’t need anything beyond that, didn’t miss a thankful public, and certainly didn’t want any medals. The anonymity suited him well.

  He hoped that in a week, two at most, he’d be back out there working on a new mission. It would have to be a good one to make him forget Nicola Barrington.

  Chapter Four

  Nicola set the towel-covered cage on the counter and took a peek at the Tweedles. They were a little ruffled but otherwise fine. She felt better having them with her, even though the bomb squad cleared her house and Spike had assured her it didn’t look like the terrorist had been there.

  “When can I go home?”

  Spike lifted a large bag onto the table, similar to Alex’s. He was well built, not as tall as Alex, but still had a formidable look to him. Short sandy hair, a strong jaw, steel-blue eyes—he was probably handsome under normal circumstances. Hard to tell, with the large bump on the middle of his forehead and the redness spreading from it.

  “When we can be sure there’ll be no more attacks coming. In the meanwhile, you’ll be leaving for Washington sometime tomorrow. We have better facilities down there.”

  Translation: “Can’t give you specifics for your own good, and by the way, this safe house is not all that safe so we have to take you to another one.”

  She looked at Alex. He didn’t seem to be jumping for joy, either. Couldn’t blame him really. For the first time, she considered things from his point of view. He was stuck in a godforsaken farmhouse with a complete stranger. Probably not his idea of fun. And yet, he would protect her, risk his life for her if needed. She had never understood that kind of dedication.

  What made certain people hand their entire lives over to the government? What motivated her father to pack up his wife and daughter and drag them all the way to China? To sign away their freedom? Living within the embassy walls and guarded by Marines, being watched twenty-four hours a day was as bad as being in a prison.

  Her mother hadn’t liked it, either. Couldn’t handle the pressures coming from both the U.S. and Chinese governments. She had tired of the endless functions that stole her time from her daughter and any other interests she might have had in life. Nicola had been perceptive enough even at that age to notice the stress. Sometimes she wondered if under different circumstances her mother would have been able to put up a better fight against the cancer.

  “Is my father in a safe house? Does he know what happened here?”

  Spike pulled out a bag of finch food and handed it to her. “He knows, but he’s keeping his schedule. We added extra staff to his normal security detail.”

  “I see.” She resisted asking if he had a message for her, if Senator Barrington had expressed any concern over the assassination attempt on his daughter’s life. If he had, she was sure Spike would have passed it on.

  He pulled some clothes from the bag and it took her a second to realize they were hers. Underwear, too, the really skimpy ones from the “just in case” pile she never got to wear. Some still had tags on. “Thanks.” She blushed and grabbed them off the table when she caught Alex openly staring.

  Next came a dozen or so cans—ravioli, chili, soups—all organic. Excellent. She hadn’t remembered to ask for those, but was grateful that Spike had thought of it.

  He pulled out her laptop, the last item in the bag. Then he reached into his shirt pocket. She could have cried in joy when he handed over her electronic organizer. She hadn’t remembered to ask for that, either. She’d been on the frazzled side when she’d made up her wish list.

  She had half a dozen appointments this week, in addition to the one with Du Shaozu on Monday. She had worked long and hard on those accounts. “Thank
you. You might have saved my business.”

  Spike shrugged. “Thank Alex. He called in the shopping list.”

  Of course. After having watched her every move for two months there was probably little the man didn’t know about her. The thought made her uncomfortable. Her privacy had been violated, and for that she had trouble feeling thankful.

  Alex lifted his hand in the no-thanks-necessary gesture, solving that problem for her.

  “I don’t suppose I could use your phone?” She turned back to Spike to push her luck.

  “I’d rather you didn’t, but if you put together a list of people and give it to me I could probably arrange for someone to call them for you.”

  Same response as Alex had given. She would have to make do. “It’ll only take me a minute.” She rummaged through the kitchen drawers until she found a pen, then copied the most essential names and numbers to a napkin from her electronic address book.

  “Had to leave town on urgent business, will be in touch at the earliest opportunity,” Alex dictated to Spike as he glanced at his watch then flipped on the TV.

  The eleven-o’clock news came on and they didn’t have to wait long before the anchor got to the shooting in Devon. He called it a drive-by, without mentioning her, the rescuing vehicle or the fate of the attackers.

  “You had a bouquet of flowers by your door,” Spike said. “From a gentleman by the name of Du Shaozu.”

  “A new client. Flowers? Can I see them?”

  “No,” Alex said.

  “They’re out in the car in an evidence bag.” Spike threw him a curious look.

  Alex flipped the TV off and came around to check out the birds. “Kind of scraggly, aren’t they?”

  In her usual abrupt manner, Tweedle Dee backed up to the bars and squirted, barely missing him. Nicola winced. So much for making a good first impression.

  Alex took a quick step back. “Hey, I think I’ve just been insulted.”

  “You know, a lot of people have that kind of opinion of you, Rodriguez,” Spike needled him.