Deadly Secrets

by Lisa Phillips

  “She wouldn’t want this.”

  “If he gets his hands on my device, he could destroy infrastructure. Entire buildings. Lives will be lost, if that’s what he wants.”

  “So this guy is a terrorist?”

  The blackmailer laughed again. “So quick to label everyone a terrorist. That’s what’s wrong with the world these days. Real terrorists are called religious extremists, and we’re supposed to tolerate their beliefs. Anyone with an agenda is labeled a terrorist, even if their agenda is just to own a whole lot of guns.”

  Mint wanted to know why this scientific research doctor had made a device that could topple buildings and kill people. Whatever it was, why make it in the first place? Especially when it was vulnerable to being stolen by blackmailers.

  “The code, Mr. Caulder.”

  Brent said, “If he takes it, you have to get it back.”

  “Don’t let him get it,” Mint said, torn between safeguarding national security and Emma’s life.

  “Tick. Tock.”

  Brent turned to the phone, as though he couldn’t look Mint in the eye and give the blackmailer the code at the same time. It wasn’t weakness. Not when lives were on the line. And it wasn’t strength for Mint to allow Emma to be hurt, or die, just to keep some device safe. Mint didn’t know what it was. He just knew he didn’t like being forced to make the decision, the same way Emma wasn’t going to like the outcome. No matter which he chose, it was going to cost all of them.

  Mint ran his hands down his face while Brent listed off a series of numbers, letters and punctuation. Then said, “That’s it.”

  The line went dead.

  Mint said, “What is this device?”

  Brent turned to him, defeat written all over his flushed face. “A sonic—”

  The door slammed open. An armed man breached the doorway. Mint snapped into action, even before his eyes registered the man’s weapon out, pointed at them. He slammed into Brent Caulder, and they both hit the ground.

  Shots went off.

  Mint pulled his gun, rolled to face the gunman and squeezed the trigger.

  A bullet slammed into his chest.

  **

  Emma typed in the code. Her hand shook so badly she almost fumbled a couple of the numbers. But she managed to get it all in. She pressed enter and the light turned green, so she pulled on the door handle.

  The door opened and with it came a whoosh of air, like the room had been pressurized. Sterilized, maybe, so dust didn’t get in. Something like that.

  In the center, on a table, was a silver thing that looked like some kind of weapon. Like one of those rocket launcher things they put on their shoulder and fired in movies. Or some sci-fi movie ray gun. She knew nothing about weapons or rockets. But she knew they were used to kill people.

  What was this thing doing in a place dedicated to medical research?

  The phone buzzed in her hand. It snapped her out of her thoughts so hard she almost dropped it.

  Fifteen seconds.

  She lifted the device…whatever it was. Heavier than it looked. Her arm muscles strained, but she figured she could carry it outside.

  When she handed it off, would they let her go?

  Emma couldn’t help thinking she was going to her death. But was that preferable to going to jail because she got caught by security? Either way, it would cost the lives of other people. Lives she wasn’t willing to risk. Her mom. The man she had always called “Dad”, even though he wasn’t her father. Mint. The rest of the team at Double Down.

  The blackmailer had threatened to hurt them one by one. And where would he stop? If she didn’t do this, there was no telling how many people would die.

  Emma backtracked through the halls. On the way, she got two more texts to avoid the security guard. Fear was a tang in her mouth, like a metallic aftertaste. She clutched the weapon to her chest. Maybe she would inadvertently press a button and wind up killing herself when it went off. At least then she would no longer care.

  But what would her life have counted for? Nothing but a whole bunch of mistakes and wasted time. She needed to get past this so she could finally build something good. She wanted to ask Mint what he thought about her ideas, because there had to be a way to put her skills to use that would benefit people’s lives. Otherwise, she was just being selfish.

  There was nothing wrong with wanting to earn enough to have a good life, but if she didn’t give of her time and money to people in need, how could she say she believed loving others more than herself was the truth? Her mother talked—a lot. Emma wanted to do something.

  The SUV was still parked in the same spot, but behind it a car had pulled up.

  A suited man spoke with the two gunmen. He had silver hair and was probably in his sixties. Accustomed to giving instructions.

  When she walked up, the man turned to her. “I’ll take that.”

  She didn’t move. It was like her arms didn’t want to release the thing. The fear of what it would be used for was simply too great. Why had she been dragged into this? Certainly not because she was strong enough to put it all on the line and stand up to them.

  She should just drop—

  Emma let go and stepped back in one move.

  The weapon fell to the ground with a thud. One of the men rushed forward. The other one who’d been in the SUV strode over.

  She backed up, but he caught up to her. He punched her in the stomach.

  Emma doubled over, coughing. It took a good few seconds before she could push the pain and breathlessness aside enough to straighten again.

  The older man who’d shown up in the car was grinning at her. “Nice try.” He turned to the one who’d picked up the device. “You can put that in my car.”

  “Yes, sir.” The man did as asked. More like commanded.

  Was this the blackmailer?

  It was a shame the device hadn’t gone off when it hit the ground. Hopefully it was broken now. Though nothing had fallen off with the impact.

  Emma took another step back. Ready to run. The man’s eyes gleamed. He shifted and pulled back one side of his suit jacket. On his belt was a badge. FBI. This guy was an agent? “Secure her and put her in my backseat. I’ll get her booked for breaking into this facility.”

  “The weapon is in your car.” Emma glanced between the three of them, trying to figure a way out. “It’ll be obvious you stole it.”

  “No one’s going to check.”

  “I’ll tell them it’s there!”

  He chuckled and shook his head. “Gentlemen. I need to get back on schedule.”

  Emma turned and darted away. She got two steps before someone tackled her. They landed on the ground, and the weight of another person landing on her back drove all the air from her lungs in a whoosh. She cried out, struggling to get free.

  Then she heard the rustle of clothing, but not from the man on top of her. The agent’s voice came again, this time closer. “Take care of this.”

  She wriggled, pinned by the weight of her captor. Managed to see around him. The FBI agent moved away and headed for his car. He was leaving?

  The man on her shifted his arm from under her. Emma had a split second to realize what was happening, and then both his hands were wrapped around her neck.

  She kicked out with her legs, but his weight pinned her hips to the ground. Rocks bit into several places at her back. She got enough leverage to kick him and ended up expending breath and energy trying to get him off her.

  She grabbed his wrists and tried to pull him off, but she had no strength.

  Then there was no air left in her lungs. She choked, trying to draw breath. His fingers around her neck tightened.

  A car started, and the sound of the engine moved away along with tires on gravel. Her vision swam. She let go of his wrists and felt around on the ground, knowing it was her last chance.

  She was dying.

  Chapter 21

  Mint saw the fight leaving her, the second her body slumped against the gr
ound. He dived out the front seat of the SUV, while the engine was still running. His feet touched the ground, already sprinting toward her.

  Beyond Emma and the man choking the life out of her was another guy, watching. His gun came up.

  Before Mint could lift his own weapon and fire first, a shot rang out from behind him. A red dot blossomed on the man’s forehead and he hit the ground.

  The man on Emma looked up. Didn’t let go of her.

  Mint dived.

  He tackled the man’s head and shoulders at full speed. They hit the ground, rolling end over end. He let go of his gun and grasped the man’s head. In one short, sharp move he snapped the man’s neck. Crack.

  The man slumped. Mint planted one hand on the ground, finally acknowledging the pain in his chest where he’d been hit in the vest by a bullet. Then he pushed off and turned back to Emma. He scooted to her, his legs not quite moving as they should. He pushed aside the pain and stumbled to her side.

  “Emma?” He touched the sides of her face. “Emma, talk to me.” Dark bruises had already formed on her neck. Had he crushed her wind pipe? “He’s gone. No one’s gonna hurt you.” Her chest moved, shallow breaths that jerked her torso. Like she was struggling. “Breathe, Em. Please.”

  “Mint?” Steve and Bradley stopped close to him. He didn’t know which one spoke.

  “She needs an ambulance.”

  “It’s two minutes out.”

  Those two minutes felt like an hour. He watched while they stuck a tube down her throat and got her breathing normally. When they loaded her into the ambulance, he turned back to his boss.

  “Go. We have this.”

  Mint nodded, and climbed in. Held her hand all the way to the hospital, where they were separated while she got checked out. Mint paced the waiting area. Twenty minutes later, the doors flew open and a familiar woman raced in, followed by a man moving at a more sedate pace.

  Emma’s mother.

  She ran right to him and demanded, “How is she?”

  Mint couldn’t form any words.

  The woman’s hair was styled perfectly, not a hair out of place. Designer clothes. When her daughter went on the run—a situation caused in large part because of the secrets she’d kept—this woman had gone on the internet, calling for her to come home. Not because of her innocence, or the fact she’d been in danger. Because she needed to turn herself in.

  Emma’s mother had displayed more emotion in that two minute post than most people do in ten years. Now? Her eyes were completely dry.

  The man behind her, dressed in a suit with his tie loosened and his top button undone, stepped forward. “Frank Burroughs.”

  “Davis Malone.”

  “Is Emma okay? They said there’d been some kind of attack.”

  “She was choked.” Kidnapped. Chased. Shot. Lied to. Jerked around. Blackmailed. And how much of that had been after he’d entered the picture? Mint hadn’t done a good job of protecting her, despite his intentions.

  He sank into a chair and ran his hands down his face, unable to face Emma’s parents. Unable to get the mental picture of her struggling to breathe out of his head.

  “Well.” Emma’s mom huffed out the word. “I’ll go speak to a nurse. I need to see my daughter.”

  A few seconds later Mint heard a rustle, and the seat beside him creaked. Not one near him. The one beside him.

  He opened his eyes and looked over, the last few words of the prayer whispering from his lips. Emma’s father—her mother’s husband and the man she’d grown up calling “Dad”—was sitting beside him.

  “Marines?”

  “Army.”

  The man nodded. “Navy.”

  Mint glanced at the desk where Emma’s mother was in heated discussion with the nurse.

  “She means well.”

  He glanced at the man beside him.

  “Likes things the way she likes them, sees the world the way she wants. Coping mechanism, her therapist said.” He sighed. “We do what we need to so the people around us are happy. Doesn’t always go perfectly, but we do our best.”

  Mint looked at his hands in his lap. Squeezed his fingers together.

  “Did everything you could to help her. Still wasn’t enough.” The man’s stare was a tactile thing. “Am I right?”

  Mint nodded.

  “I saw you at the memorial service. Got in my wife’s face, stood between her and Emma, trying to protect her. Saw the kind of man you were then, knew I didn’t have to step in. Someone telling my wife she needed to back down and think it through, instead of flying off the handle in a gut reaction?” He shook his head. “Not going to get in the way of that.”

  Because he didn’t have the guts to do that himself? Mint wasn’t sure what to say or think about any of it.

  Emma’s dad said, “She got hurt, but it wasn’t your fault. You know that, right?”

  No. Mint didn’t know that.

  “He came to me, first. Showed me pictures of my wife with that man.” He shifted in the chair. “Knew it. Didn’t want to believe it was true. Coping mechanism. Purging those demons out of her past, so they didn’t rear their heads. It isn’t right, but it is what she needs.”

  Mint couldn’t look at Emma’s mom. Not now. “It put Emma’s life in danger.”

  “And that’s on me. Because I refused, and he picked her instead.”

  “Do you know who he is?” Mint had to know. And he didn’t want to talk about that other stuff. He had enough guilt to carry without adding this man’s to it. They didn’t need to share that. He wasn’t going to be kindred spirits with anyone except Emma. And, coping mechanism or not, that was the way it was going to stay.

  “Someone high up.” Her dad paused. “He knew things. Deals I was involved in.”

  “But you pushed back.”

  “And Emma is the one who paid the price. Again.”

  A screeching voice cut into what Mint had been about to say. “I DEMAND TO SEE HER. NOW!”

  Her dad let go of an expletive and got up. Mint was right behind him. Emma’s mother stormed past the nurse and down the hall to a room. She elbowed an orderly and brushed off the nurse’s attempts to stall her.

  “Emma! Emma!” She barged in the room.

  Her dad and Mint both followed.

  “Honey—”

  She rebuffed the dad as well.

  Mint couldn’t take his gaze off Emma. Tube still down her throat. Pale face, dark bruises. Eyes open and locked on his.

  She’d never looked more beautiful.

  And more overwhelmed.

  The nurse said, “You all need to leave. Now.”

  Emma’s hand shot up and she held it out. Mint moved, placing his hand in hers. She gripped his fingers.

  “Emma, darling.”

  Emma turned her face away from her mother and shut her eyes. But not before a tear rolled down her face.

  “You,” the nurse pointed at her father, “and you,” she motioned to Emma’s mother, “out. Both of you.”

  Emma’s mother sputtered. The nurse got them both past the door and then shut it in their faces.

  Mint shifted so their faces were close. Emma made a sound. “Don’t try to talk.”

  “Good idea,” the nurse said, moving to the other side of the bed. “Let’s get the tube out. Then you can have your heart-to-heart with the hot guy.”

  Mint stared at her.

  “What? She was hurt. This is a hospital. You wouldn’t believe the love stories I could tell you. Makes me believe again.” She swiped an imaginary tear from beneath one eye.

  Emma’s body shifted as she stifled a laugh.

  **

  “One big deep breath, and then push it out.”

  Emma did as instructed, still holding onto Mint’s hand. She didn’t ever want to let go of him. The tube slid up her throat and out. She coughed even before it left her mouth. Then she coughed more, holding back the gag. She did not want to puke in front of Mint.

  He stood beside her, holding
the one hand she wouldn’t let go of, the other rubbing up and down her back.

  “You okay for a minute if I leave you with your guy?”

  Emma nodded. “Yeah.” The word was scratchy and barely audible, but the nurse nodded.

  “I’ll be back.” She wiggled her eyebrows. “I want the scoop.”

  Mint’s body stiffened. The nurse sauntered out. When the door shut behind her, he said, “I’ll talk to her. Make sure she knows she doesn’t tell anyone what she sees or hears in here. Or anything about your family.”

  Emma tugged on his hand. “Sit.”

  Mint shifted but didn’t sit.

  She tugged again. “Please.”

  He settled on the edge of the bed, because she gave him no other choice. And he didn’t meet her gaze.

  “Are you going to make me talk?”

  He looked up then, surprised. “Hurts?”

  She gave him a look like, What do you think?

  He winced. “Sorry.”

  “Not your fault.” But he didn’t look like he believed her. Emma reached up and touched both sides of his face. She leaned close and mouthed, Not your fault.

  He touched his forehead to hers, and shut his eyes. “You nearly died.”

  Emma stroked both sides of his face and into his hair. He groaned and touched a hand to his chest. After a minute or so of silence—who cared how long it was when Mint was with her?—he said, “No one has ever touched me like this.”

  She leaned back. Barely an inch. Just so she could look at his eyes.

  “Not one single time in my life has anyone. Ever. Touched me like this.” His gaze scanned her face. “How is it that you can be so strong—and so soft—at the same time?”

  Tears filled her eyes. They were the sweetest words she’d ever heard in her life. But still, she shrugged. “I’m a woman,” she whispered.

  “Not just any woman,” he whispered back. “My woman.”

  And then he sat back. Suddenly, like he didn’t meant to say that. Or like he didn’t know how she would react. Like it’d slipped out, and now he wondered if he should take it back.

  “Mint—”