Operation: Reunited

by Linda O. Johnston

  As he pulled on his shirt, she rolled off the other side of the bed and picked up her clothes from the floor. She dressed hurriedly.

  Looking into the mirror over the dresser, she scowled at the reflection. She opened the top drawer and lifted out a black plastic comb. It was just where she’d thought it would be. Where Cole had always left one. Her frown softened into a fond smile. Some things didn’t change.

  His face appeared beside hers in the mirror. His new face, perhaps more handsome, definitely endearing. She caught his eye.

  His expression was worried. “I’d send you away from here if I could, Alexa, for your safety. But if you leave, Vane will be angry and might suspect something. We can’t let him disappear. We need him to be able to stop the plot.”

  “I understand,” she said. “And I wouldn’t go anywhere, even if you wanted me to. For one thing, he might harm my parents.”

  A hardness flattened Cole’s mouth before he spoke again. “We’ll take care of them, I promise—clear them of suspicion. I don’t want him to run. I don’t want the son of a bitch to get away again.”

  Alexa turned and hugged him. “I don’t, either,” she said. “Not after what he’s done to me—and most especially what he did to you.” She let one hand gently rub his back through his shirt.

  She felt his slight wince, could only imagine how excruciating the pain had been when he had been injured, for clearly he still hurt now.

  He put his arms around her and nuzzled her hair. “I don’t care about what happened to me. It’s my father. I doubt I’ll ever find any evidence, but I’m sure Vane killed him. I was warned to back off the investigation of the terrorists in your family’s hotels or face the consequences. I didn’t give up.”

  “Of course not,” Alexa said, reveling in his continued nearness. He wouldn’t give up. No matter what, Cole would fulfill his assignment.

  Even if it took him years.

  “My father,” he continued, “was a Special Forces operative himself. Because I didn’t back off, he was killed. He’d always been careful, taught me to be cautious. For someone to get to him, it had to be a person he trusted.”

  Alexa nodded against him, not wanting to release him. Not wanting him to let her go. “I’m so sorry,” she said softly. “Vane was his protégé, wasn’t he? It would be easy for him to get close.”

  “Yeah. I didn’t mind sharing my father. I liked Vane, and he had no remaining family. We were like brothers.” His laugh was mirthless. “Brothers don’t murder their families.” He pulled away from her. “But I’ll get him now, even if I can’t pin my dad’s death on him.”

  “Yes,” Alexa agreed. “We’ll get him.” Before he could protest, she pulled gently away and left the room.

  First thing, she released Phantom from her bedroom, where she had locked him while Cole and she were on the prowl. She let him romp outside for a few minutes, keeping a close eye on him. Then she returned to her duties, with Phantom keeping her company.

  She had already cleaned the room previously occupied by the Fullers, to get ready for future guests. It was next to Cole’s. She chose a nearby room for Cole’s other friend. The previous guests had taken all their things, so they were apparently among the group that left that day.

  She was vacuuming, when Cole appeared at the room’s door. She turned off the machine.

  “I’m back in character as John O’Rourke,” he said with a wink. “My fellow ‘salesmen’ just arrived.”

  Alexa accompanied him downstairs to the reception desk. Two men stood there chatting amiably. Cole introduced them, while Phantom circled and sniffed them.

  Jessie Bradford was a tall man. Very tall. Alexa surmised he had played basketball somewhere along the line.

  She smiled and offered her hand. Jessie took it in his vast paw and bent deeply to kiss hers. She laughed aloud.

  “How charming,” she said. “I bet you sell a lot of home improvements to women.”

  “Absolutely.”

  Alexa wondered if Cole had told him she knew who they were. No matter. She would play along, for soon Vane and Minos and the remaining guests would return. She would not dare act as if these men were anything but what they professed.

  The other man was shorter and plumper and wore a red baseball cap backward on his head. “Allen Maygran,” he said. “And I don’t kiss…hands.” He leaned toward her and planted a kiss on her cheek. “When we get to know each other better, maybe we can try something more exciting.”

  Alexa stepped back and caught Cole’s eye. He didn’t look pleased. “Hands off,” he said. And then, back in character, he said, “Alexa is engaged to her partner here at Hideaway By The Lake. His name is Vane Walters. You’ll meet him later.”

  All three men exchanged glances.

  “Once you’ve checked in,” Cole continued, “let’s go for a walk along the lake. It’s got great atmosphere, and I can fill you in on what I’ve learned about this place—and its potential for our conference.”

  “Right,” Allen said.

  Alexa went through the routine of having them sign registration forms and provide credit card numbers. She showed them upstairs to their rooms, then returned to her cleaning, while Cole led them to the water. He asked Alexa if she wanted him to take Phantom along for more exercise, and she agreed.

  A few minutes later, she was putting the cleaning equipment away, when she heard a call from downstairs. “Alexa?”

  She stood absolutely still for a second, gathering her courage.

  It was Vane.

  “Up here,” she called. In a moment, she heard footsteps on the stairs. She pasted a smile on her face and walked down the hall to greet him.

  How was one supposed to act with a terrorist planning to overthrow the government?

  Normally, she told herself. She was engaged to marry this particular terrorist. For now, she had to continue to play that role. Her life might depend on it. And her parents’ lives, and Cole’s…and her country.

  Vane was smiling as he waited at the top of the steps. He still looked youthful and carefree when he smiled like that. How did he manage his conscience?

  What conscience? He couldn’t have one, Alexa realized, to be involved in such a horrific plot.

  He hugged her and kissed her cheek. She managed to give him a friendly squeeze in return. “Did you see everyone off all right?” she asked.

  “Sure did. They’re on their way.” He had sent terrorists off to blow up military installations, probably prepared to kill anyone in their way, and he sounded cheerful about it. Alexa forbade herself from shuddering, for he would feel it. He still held her close. Too close.

  “Great,” she managed to say. “Since we had a few rooms become vacant, I told John it was all right for some of his fellow salesmen to stay here. They’re the ones looking for a place for a small conference in a month or two.” She felt Vane stiffen. She had to play dutiful fiancée, no matter how much she despised it. “I hope that’s all right with you,” she said. “If not, if you’ll just let them stay for tonight, I can tell them that you’d booked their rooms without my knowing about it and send them on their way tomorrow.”

  He backed away. His eyes, as icy as the lake’s surface in winter, regarded her angrily. “That would be better, Alexa. I know we talked about having more of your salesmen come, but I’d no idea it would be this soon. At least wait until the rest of our current guests have left.”

  “Sure, Vane,” she said nervously. It was all right for her to act nervous in front of him. She had been doing so for months.

  “I was just about to start dinner,” she said. “I’ll tell them when they come up from the lake to eat. In the meantime, how many of our other guests are still here? I need to know how much food to prepare.”

  “There are six left,” he replied. “I’ll see you at dinner. Right now, I have paperwork to do.”

  As he walked toward his room, Alexa couldn’t help feeling even more worried. Would he be able to tell she and Cole had been the
re? Would he know they had read his computer files?

  Would he realize that they now knew exactly what kind of miserable scum he was?

  She descended the steps slowly, waiting for his furious shout.

  But the upstairs hallway was silent.

  Alexa popped into the parlor and gave a brief hello to their remaining guests. All men, she realized.

  Where had the others gone? Was that information in the files Cole had taken off Vane’s computer?

  Where was this group destined for?

  “Do you need help with dinner tonight, Alexa?” She nearly jumped out of her skin. Minos had appeared from nowhere to stand beside her. He stared assessingly with his small and cunning eyes.

  Bubble bath. But she didn’t find it funny now. Nothing about this man was humorous.

  She shook her head. “No, thanks. Since we don’t have a full house any longer, I’ll keep things simple. But I appreciate your asking.” Like heck she did. But she had to stay cordial. Pretend normality.

  Everything will be fine, she told herself firmly as she headed for her kitchen. Cole will see to it.

  “GREAT DINNER, Alexa.” Cole was seated at a table with Bradford and Maygran. Since he was ostensibly entertaining his friends, he hadn’t offered to help her with dinner. Nor did he rise to help with the dishes.

  He was glad to see Vane give a nod to Minos. The short thug with the big muscles rose from a table where he’d sat with some of the remaining guests. He began collecting dirty plates.

  “So what is there to do around here after dinner?” asked Jessie Bradford as he stood and stretched his tall frame.

  Bradford was dressed in a short-sleeved checked shirt and off-white slacks, but Cole had seen him most often in camouflage gear. Jessie had been a Navy SEAL, and had worked with the super-secret Delta Force before joining the antiterrorist group run by Forbes Bowman a few months earlier. Cole was glad he’d been available to help out here. Though part of the assignment Cole had wanted backup on had been completed—learning the goal of the terrorist plot—he still needed to take down Vane and his lackey Minos. Jessie would be an asset.

  Allen Maygran was younger and more conservative, but he, too, knew his way around antiterrorist operations. Since Cole’s return to active duty, he had had an assignment with Maygran in which they had rescued a U.S. businessman in Baja being held for ransom. The businessman was now well and happy and reunited with his family. The kidnappers had disappeared into the Sea of Cortéz.

  “We’ve been playing along with game shows on TV after dinner,” Cole told Jessie. “You want to join us?”

  “No, I think I’ll take another little walk along the lake. It’s nice out there.” Cole knew what that meant: Jessie wanted to do his own reconnoitering around the area.

  “And I’m going to check my e-mail,” Maygran told them. “Maybe I’ll join you outside a little later.” Allen Maygran was also an expert in technology, including state-of-the-art listening devices. Cole anticipated that all the walls in this inn would soon have ears. And any discussions of where today’s infiltrators had been planted, where the remaining ones were going, would soon be on tape.

  In the meantime, Cole would hang around in Alexa’s general vicinity, in case she needed him.

  For now, everything was under control.

  But he wasn’t so certain of that a couple of hours later. He hadn’t seen Jessie Bradford return. He went upstairs and knocked on Allen Maygran’s door. No, he hadn’t seen Jessie.

  They both went out on the balcony and looked down toward the lake.

  There was no sign of their compatriot.

  “I’ll go look for him,” Cole told Maygran. “You send an e-mail to Forbes, then join me. I’ll take Alexa’s dog for a walk. Maybe he can help me run down Bradford.”

  He found Alexa in the kitchen, preparing a grocery list. As John O’Rourke, he played jovial guest, just a little curious about what happened to his friend. “It’s easy to get carried away by the great scenery at this lake,” he said aloud. But he could see by the worry in Alexa’s eyes that she, too, understood the potential significance of Jessie Bradford’s disappearance.

  No one would bother with a salesman looking for a convention site. But a terrorist would gladly dispose of a government agent out to stop him.

  With Jessie’s skills, it would be hard for anyone to bring him down. But if he was all right, where was he?

  “I’ll come, too,” Alexa said with a too-bright smile. She had already reached behind her to untie her apron.

  “No, everything’s fine,” Cole lied. “I’ll walk Phantom for you, though. Ol’ Jessie’s going to be embarrassed enough if I discover that he’s gotten lost and can’t even follow the lake back.” He warned her with his steady gaze: Stay here. Be careful.

  The way she gnawed on her lower lip told him she understood. “Okay,” she said cheerfully. “Good luck.”

  Cole was afraid he would need it.

  But he didn’t get it, for about half an hour after they’d set out, Phantom whined and pawed at the door to a neighbor’s boathouse about a hundred yards along the lakefront from the Hideaway.

  “What is it, boy?” Cole asked, though he already knew.

  He opened the door…and stood absolutely still, except that his hand reached below his jacket to his shoulder holster, where he had stuffed his Beretta before leaving the inn.

  He needn’t have bothered. It was too late to help Jessie Bradford.

  He lay there in a pool of blood, a knife stuck in his gut.

  Cole checked for a pulse, just in case. There was none.

  He turned and raced back toward the inn.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Cole reached the house in time to see one of the SUVs disappear down the driveway. He gave chase but couldn’t catch it. He couldn’t even tell for certain who was in it, although it seemed packed.

  Where was Alexa? He had to warn her. And Maygran. Allen needed to know what had happened to Jessie. They had to contact Forbes. But first, Cole needed to make sure Alexa was safe.

  His hand inside his jacket clutching his Beretta, Cole burst through the kitchen door. Vane stood inside, smiling insidiously at him. His left arm was around Alexa. He aimed a Glock at Cole with his right hand.

  It was too late for Cole to draw his gun, too risky to drop to the ground, pull it out and fire, with Alexa standing there.

  “Welcome back, Cole,” Vane said.

  Cole’s breathing was irregular and deep, as much from emotion as exertion. He felt enraged. Powerless.

  Frightened for Alexa.

  But Alexa moved, unhindered, away from Vane and closed Phantom behind the pantry gate. She appeared nonchalant, in control. Not scared in the least.

  Why?

  Vane approached Cole, the Glock still trained on him. He patted Cole outside his jacket, then removed the gun from its holster, checked the safety and stuck it into the back waistband of his own pants. Then, slowly, he backed away till he stood where he had been when Cole had come into the kitchen.

  Alexa returned to Vane’s side.

  “How long have you known who I am?” Cole directed his demand to Vane through teeth clenched as tightly as his fists.

  “All along. Haven’t we, darling?” He squeezed Alexa.

  She was smiling at Cole now, too. But it wasn’t the loving smile he had come to treasure again. Instead, she looked as sinister as her fiancé.

  But beautiful, in her softly clinging shirt, her tight jeans. Her golden-brown hair hung loose, a halo that framed her lovely face.

  How could innocent-looking beauty like that obscure such evil? Cole shook his head slowly, as if in denial.

  Alexa, however, denied nothing. “Of course. Did you think I would keep anything so important from the man I love?” She stretched enough to throw her arms around Vane and kiss him. But she didn’t distract the man Cole had once thought of as a brother. Vane’s eyes remained open as he regarded Cole with triumph.

  Cole wanted to s
mash something, preferably Vane’s smug face. And Alexa’s, too—even though he had never even considered striking a woman before.

  She had done it to him again. Betrayed him. And this time he had allowed it, with his eyes wide open.

  His mind taunted him now with epithets worse than “fool.” He had been a dupe, an idiot, a besotted SOB who’d thought with his sex organs instead of his head.

  His sky. That was what he had called her in the heat of passion. But he knew far better. She was his hell.

  Unable to bring himself to look at her any longer, he demanded, “Where’s Maygran?” Maybe there was hope that his fellow agent lurked somewhere, ready to come to his aid.

  “Poor fellow had a small accident,” Vane said. “Somewhat similar to his friend Bradford’s, I’m afraid.”

  Then Maygran was dead, too, damn it.

  Bradford and Maygran had been Cole’s friends.

  At least he had learned early enough to get information to Forbes about what the plot was intended to achieve. With luck, Forbes would be able to thwart it.

  For Cole knew he wouldn’t be allowed to live.

  But he would stay alive as long as possible. Perhaps he would find an opening, a way to save himself.

  And if, instead, he was to die, he would try to take Vane with him. And that damn faithless turncoat Alexa, too.

  His instincts had told him there was something else he should see in this situation, but he had turned his back on the most obvious explanation: Vane and Alexa were in it together.

  “Sit down, Cole.” Vane used the gun barrel to motion Cole toward a chair near the kitchen’s center island.

  Cole had little choice but to comply. Seated, he felt even more vulnerable.

  “Tie him up, Alexa.”

  She moved toward him, then disappeared behind his chair. In moments, one arm was jerked behind him, and then the other. His wrists were tied tightly together, then Alexa stepped back. He felt cold metal pressed under his chin, as Vane tugged on his bonds, assuring himself they were tight.

  “Why, Vane?” he asked, when Vane faced him once more. Cole wanted to buy time. He tried to be surreptitious as he strained at the cord that bound him, but it didn’t budge. He wondered whether there was any blood circulation at all in his hands.