by Cindy Dees
“Dude, you can’t just bust down the front door of the villa,” Harry said urgently. “We’ve got a hunter-killer team about to barge in there guns blazing. You can’t blow their positions. You know better.” He added desperately, “Eve will die if you don’t get your head together.”
Dammit, Harry was right. “Talk to me. Where are our people deployed?”
“They’re positioned exactly as briefed.”
He thought fast about the layout of the villa. The master bedroom faced the ocean. “Tell them I’m approaching from the beach side of the cottage.”
“Sir, there’s no cover from that side.”
“Then I’ll have to be especially sneaky, won’t I?” he snapped.
“Sir—”
“You can either help me or just hope I don’t screw up your op.”
Harry sighed. “You’re going to end your career over this.”
Brady said something rude enough back that Harry laughed reluctantly.
“All right, Commander, here’s the deal. As long as there’s cloud cover, you should be able to move up the beach if you’re careful. But once the moon comes back out, you’d better be under cover. It’ll be as bright as day out there.”
“Roger,” Brady replied.
He ducked off the path and headed for the beach. He ran in the heavy sand, oblivious to the effort it required. Eve was in trouble. He would run barefoot through broken glass to save her.
He reached the first private beach and crossed it fast. He had to wade through knee-high water around the artificial barrier of rocks and vegetation to reach the next private beach. He crossed this one as well, then slowed to ease around the next barrier and onto Drago’s private beach.
Harry murmured, “The hunter-killer team reports that Drago and Eve are arriving at the villa now.”
Brady clicked his microphone switch once by way of reply. He moved forward through the shadows at the edge of the beach. Lights came on inside the structure. And in moments, the bedroom light switched on. Eve entered the room first as Drago shoved her hard, throwing her down across the bed. The terror on Eve’s face was more than Brady could stand. He reached for his weapon, a short-muzzled MP-7 assault rifle and swung it up into a firing position.
But then one of the guards stepped into the doorway. Brady swore under his breath and lowered his weapon. If he killed Drago with that guy around, the bodyguard would shoot back. And if the guy was any good at all, he’d start by killing Eve before progressing to whoever was beyond the window.
Drago backhanded Eve across the face, and Brady flinched as hard as Eve did.
Harry announced, “Team two reports that the Three Stooges are in sight. We’re still awaiting Annika’s arrival, but she should be on the property by now.”
Brady eased a little closer to the villa, giving himself a better angle to cover more of the bedroom with his weapon. But it also put him farther out on the beach.
As Drago slapped Eve again, Brady spotted something that made his knees go weak with relief. Eve was lying in such a way that he could see up her skirt, and she was wearing his pistol.
And then Harry made a bunch of reports in quick succession.
“Annika is in sight.”
“Thirty seconds until the cloud cover lifts.”
“Team Two is good to go.”
“Team One is a go.”
“Stand by.”
Brady tried to relax into the state of calm readiness critical to his work. But it refused to come. He clutched his weapon until his fingers cramped and actually caught himself praying.
Drago snarled something that had Eve cringing back away from the guy on the bed. She looked utterly terrified. Focus, dammit. It would be over in a few seconds.
She scrambled off the bed and headed for the oceanside veranda. Drago leaped after her, snagging her around the waist. Her mouth formed a single word.
Brady.
Oh, God. He could almost hear her silent plea for him to rescue her. It was as if she was looking out here, hoping to see him, hoping against hope that he would materialize and save her.
“Green light,” Harry announced.
All hell broke loose. Team One burst out of the jungle on the other side of the house to break down the front door, and somewhere in the trees, Team Two moved in to jump Annika and her boys.
A piercing alarm shattered the night. The bedroom door burst open, and Brady’s eyes went wide as both bodyguards leaped into the room and slammed the door shut behind them. The bodyguards must have set up some kind of motion sensors that Team One hadn’t spotted.
Not good, not good, not good. With Drago alone in the room, Brady could take the bastard out before the guy could hurt Eve. But with three heavily armed men in there, she was dead. One of them would put a bullet in her head any second.
And the moment the villa’s front door slammed open, she would be dead.
The moon slid out from behind the clouds, and his only route to Eve was suddenly daylight bright. His dark clothing would show up against the white sand like a beacon.
Must save Eve.
He didn’t stop to think. Didn’t question his motives. He just followed his instinct and stepped out into full sight in the middle of the beach. Please God, let Eve remember the signal.
He reached for his left ear and tugged it—the signal they’d used that night in George Town when she’d pretended to shoot him for her to take the shot.
Her only chance at living through the next few seconds was to convince Drago and his men that she was on their side. That she wasn’t a plant. That she wasn’t bait in the trap springing around them. And to do that, she would have to shoot him.
C’mon, Eve. Do it.
He watched in slow motion terror as the sound of a wood panel smashing to smithereens ripped thought the night. Drago and the bodyguards reached for concealed weapons under their suit coats. Eve frowned.
He tugged his ear again, frantically.
Too slowly, she reached for the hem of her dress.
Gunfire erupted. Wood chips flew off the bedroom walls, and Drago and his men ducked. Drago turned toward the veranda and shouted a warning. The bastard had spotted him.
Behind Drago, Brady’s pistol appeared in Eve’s hand, lifting toward the beach. The guards spun to face the new threat. Spotted her weapon. Their own weapons swung up to take aim at her.
And then she nodded once at Brady over the barrel of the weapon and fired.
Chapter 15
Drago lurched in front of her as she fired over his shoulder. “What the hell—” It was all he got out before he dropped like a stone in front of her. A barrage of lead flew around her, several of the rounds passing so close to her that she felt her hair lift at their passage. She even felt something warm caress her cheek.
She spun as the bedroom door literally blew up, knocking her backward. The bodyguards, although shot to heck, were still standing. But by the time the smoke cleared, they were bullet-riddled lumps on the floor.
A soldier, so heavily armed and armored he hardly looked human, rushed forward to grab her by the arm. Without speaking, he dragged her out of the room at a dead run. The guy slowed at the front door only long enough to pull a black cloth bag over her head.
She jolted in alarm. No one had said anything about a bag over her head!
Her arms were yanked behind her back and something thin and hard went around her wrists. It pulled painfully tight. Her feet swung out from underneath her and hard, strong arms carried her at a run like a giant sack of potatoes.
“Where’s Brady?” she cried. “What’s going on?”
“Be quiet,” someone ordered harshly.
“Is he alive? Did I kill him?”
“Be quiet, or we’ll drug you,” someone else threatened.
What on earth was happening to her? And what had happened to Brady? He’d dropped like a rock when she pulled the trigger. It was a thousand times worse than the first time she’d shot him, though, because this time she’d se
nt deadly lead into the man she loved. And it wasn’t like she was any kind of expert shot who could intentionally avoid vital organ. For all she knew, she’d blown his head off or hit him directly in the heart. With her luck, she’d score a kill shot the one time in her life she absolutely had to miss the target.
She gasped when her captors swung her through space and then released her onto something hard and metal and bumpy. She slammed into something soft and someone nearby grunted.
“Annika?” she whispered.
“Shut up,” Annika whispered back.
Had Brady reneged on their deal? Was she being arrested as part of Annika’s gang? Had he set her up? Had he signaled her to shoot at him to frame her as a member of the terrorist cell? Afraid like she’d never been afraid in her entire life, Eve lay there quivering in shock and terror as the van lurched into motion.
She didn’t know how long they drove, but a door opened nearby, and she was hauled to her feet and hustled indoors. It sounded from the shuffling around her like Annika and all three of her associates were under arrest, as well.
Eve was shoved forward, and the plastic cuffs jerked briefly. They fell away and she flexed her cramping arms carefully. What sounded like a heavy, steel door slammed shut behind her. She stood still as silence settled around her.
“Hello? Is anyone there?” she tried.
No answer.
Cautiously, she reached for the bottom of her hood and loosened the drawstrings. No one objected. She lifted the cloth and squinted into bright, fluorescent light. She was in a prison cell. The floor was concrete, the walls cinder block. A stainless steel toilet squatted in the corner, and a concrete shelf that apparently served as both chair and bed lined the far wall. Shell-shocked, she sank onto the bench.
How long she sat there with silent tears running down her cheeks, she had no idea. Brady was gone, possibly dead. He’d betrayed her. Set her up. She was under arrest as a terrorist. Brady’s superiors had all the evidence in the world to tie her to the gang. Who would ever believe her if she tried to explain that Brady had signaled her to shoot him?
Her life was over. But without Brady, she couldn’t drum up enough energy to care. She laid down on the cold, hard bench and died inside.
Perhaps an hour passed. And then, without warning, the door to her cell opened. A big, stern-looking man she’d never seen before gestured for her to put the bag back on. All the life drained out of her, she pulled the black sack on.
The man took her by the elbow and led her out. They walked for several minutes. A door opened, and Eve smelled the ocean, felt muggy air on her skin. They were going outdoors. Maybe if she was lucky, they’d stand her in front of a firing squad and put her out of her misery. The man helped her into a vehicle, a minivan by the height of the door and the seats. He buckled her seat belt across her, and the door slid shut beside her.
Eve jolted violently as a familiar female voice spoke beside her. Jennifer. “Hang in with the charade for just a little longer, Eve. This is all for your protection.”
“What is going on?” Eve demanded.
“We had to arrest you along with Annika and her boys to make them think you were one of them. If you got special treatment, they’d know you were an infiltrator.”
She sat upright abruptly. “Brady. Is he okay?”
“I’m taking you to him now.”
Oh, no. Jennifer didn’t answer the question. “Is he alive? Did I accidentally kill him?”
“He’s alive,” Jennifer replied tightly.
But not much more, apparently. “Can I see him? Please. It’s urgent that I talk to him. Explain…”
“All in good time,” was Jennifer’s only reply.
The van stopped at what sounded and felt like near the ocean. Eve was escorted down a wooden pier and into a boat of some kind. Powerful engines roared, and the boat pulled away from shore at high speed if the way the hood plastered to her face was any indication. She was surprised when Jennifer explained gently that Eve had to continue to wear the hood for a while longer. Apparently, their destination was some big secret, and Eve wasn’t allowed to see where they were going.
They bumped across the ocean in the speedboat for several hours before the engines finally powered down.
And then Jennifer spoke again. “Almost there.”
Eve stumbled along as she was led into what felt like some sort of small building. And then she was led into…an elevator. The floor lurched and they began to descend. The door opened, and Jennifer guided her out. Eve heard the soft swish of the door closing behind them, and then the hood lifted away from her head. A stone tunnel of some kind stretched away in front of them.
“Come with me,” Jennifer ordered briskly.
They passed a number of unmarked doors and turned a few times. Eve was thoroughly lost before they finally stopped in front of another unmarked door. Jennifer reached for the handle and opened the door, gesturing for Eve to enter.
“You’re not coming in with me?” Eve asked nervously.
“It’s not another jail cell. I promise.”
Eve stepped inside. And stopped dead in her tracks. It was as if she’d walked into a nicely furnished condo, but without any windows. A movement across the room caught her attention, and Eve sobbed aloud. She flung herself forward and into Brady’s arms.
“You’re alive! Thank God.”
He made a pained sound as she slammed into him.
“Are you hurt? Did I shoot you?”
“You winged my left side. No serious damage. It was a great shot, actually.”
“I’m never shooting another gun again as long as I live,” she declared in abject relief. She stepped back far enough to look at him, and her hands couldn’t seem to stop running over his chest, searching for further injuries.
“Are you sorry you didn’t kill me?” he asked soberly.
“Are you crazy? I’ve been out of my mind with panic that I hurt you or worse.” An awkward silence built between them as they stared at one another. So much hung between them, unsaid, she hardly knew where to begin.
Finally, she asked, “Why did you do it?”
“Do what?”
“Signal me to shoot you?”
“To save your life. If Drago and his guards decided you were part of the sting operation to bag them, they’d have killed you on the spot. With three armed men in there, I couldn’t have shot them all before one of them turned his weapon on you. Thank God you took the shot.”
He wrapped his arms around her. His embrace was careful in deference to his bandaged side, but it still felt like pure heaven.
“Brady, I love you.”
His head whipped up and he went utterly still against her. “I beg your pardon?”
“I love you.”
“When did you figure that out? I thought you hated my guts.”
She sighed. “Didn’t you know love and hate are the flip sides of the same coin? I figured it out when you sent me your pistol. I knew then, that despite everything else, despite the mission, you really cared for me. I don’t expect you to love me back. I know you don’t think much of women in general, but—”
A finger pressed against her lips, stilling them mid-sentence. “Eve. I showed myself to a room full of armed killers and ordered you to shoot me. What in this world besides true love would cause me to do something that crazy?”
She thought about it for several seconds before lifting her stunned gaze to his worried one. “You love me?”
“Enough to sacrifice the mission, my career—hell, my life—for you.”
The butterflies in her stomach took flight one last time in a glorious rush that flashed all the colors of the rainbow in an iridescently joyous cloud.
“But we got Annika, right?” Eve asked.
“And her men. They’re all in custody. Her brother and his men are dead, and his customer is in custody. Not only did you stop a dangerous terrorist cell, you stopped a major arms dealer while you were at it.”
Eve smiled
up at him in dawning relief. “Then it’s over? Really over?”
“The mission may be over,” he answered carefully, “but I’m hoping with all my heart and soul that you and I are not over.”
The butterflies burst out of her and she wrapped her arms around his neck, laughing aloud with joy. She whispered through the tears obscuring her vision, “We’re not over, Brady. We’re just beginning.”
“Marry me.”
“I thought you’d never ask.”
“Is that a yes?”
“Of course it is, you beautiful, wonderful man.”
Laughing with her, he lifted her off the floor and swung her around, despite his wound. And then he kissed her, and she kissed him back. The future—their future—took shape before them then, a long and happy journey together, their own happily ever after all tied up with a bow and just waiting for them to unwrap it.
ISBN: 978-1-4592-0827-8
SOLDIER’S LAST STAND
Copyright © 2011 by Cynthia Dees
All rights reserved. Except for use in any review, the reproduction or utilization of this work in whole or in part in any form by any electronic, mechanical or other means, now known or hereafter invented, including xerography, photocopying and recording, or in any information storage or retrieval system, is forbidden without the written permission of the publisher, Harlequin Enterprises Limited, 225 Duncan Mill Road, Don Mills, Ontario M3B 3K9, Canada.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events or locales is entirely coincidental.
This edition published by arrangement with Harlequin Books S.A.
For questions and comments about the quality of this book please contact us at [email protected].
® and TM are trademarks of Harlequin Books S.A., used under license. Trademarks indicated with ® are registered in the United States Patent and Trademark Office, the Canadian Trade Marks Office and in other countries.
www.Harlequin.com