“What are you talking about? What is the ‘unit’?” Maggie’s eyes blinked a few times. “Why is your arm in a sling? Who are your friends? And this man?” She stretched out her hand toward Gianni.
“If you’re going to lie for a living, don’t ask so many questions at once. Watch and listen more than talk. And work on your eyes.”
“What?” Maggie lifted both eyebrows and widened her eyes.
“That’s better.” Anika walked toward the bed.
Salazar reached for his laser.
“Give it a rest,” she told him. She bent down and picked up the tiny tracking device nestled among the scattered beads and the puffs of stuffing. She walked over to Maggie, hand outstretched, palm up.
Maggie opened her mouth, hesitated, shut it. Her cool stare was a blank canvas.
“Better,” Anika said. “Although if you really want to improve, you should observe Brad in action. He’s a master.”
“Brad?” Maggie asked.
“Have him tell you the story about his first marriage. Fooled me with that one.”
“That’s no story.”
“You don’t have to cover for him.”
“I’m not. Brad couldn’t fake anything, not even if his life depended on it.” Scorn threaded through Maggie’s words. “That’s what made him so effective at persuading you to come here. We wanted you away from crowded Havana, where it would be easier to retrieve you.”
“So he was your pawn?”
“You seemed to find him useful,” Maggie replied. “Or did you really enjoy his company?”
Point taken. Anika’s mouth tightened and she visualized a hard fist to Maggie’s face, followed by blood streaming from her nose. She deleted the image. Not now. She needed her help.
She looked over at Gianni. Sweat gleamed on his skin and dampened the hair around his temples. “He was shot with a 9mm. Forty-three minutes ago. The bullet needs to come out.”
“Yeah, because of the poison,” Salazar said.
“Poison?” Maggie’s brows drew together.
“That’s right.” Anika spoke up. “The bullet was treated with arsenic. That’s why I insisted we contact you,” she said. “Otherwise, we would have waited until we got back to U.N.I.T. Understand?” She raised an eyebrow at Maggie and her chest constricted.
A speculative look crossed Maggie’s face then her expression neutralized. “You made the right call.” She included both Anika and Salazar in her glance.
Anika eased out a breath. She turned to Salazar and adjusted her voice to a deferential tone. “Who should assist Maggie?”
Salazar pointed his laser at Mac. “You help the doc.”
“Why me?”
“Because I’m team lead and I told you to.”
Maggie walked over to Mac and took his hand. She turned it over and back, studying it.
“If you wanna hold hands, sweetface, all you have to do is ask.”
“Too big.” Maggie dropped Mac’s hand as if it were contaminated.
“That’s not the first time I’ve heard that.” Mac grinned.
Maggie looked at Anika, then raised an eyebrow at Salazar. “What about her?”
“Okay, but do it quick.”
“I can’t work on the floor in all this mess. You’ll need to move him. Keep his leg elevated.”
Mac and Salazar lifted Gianni and carried him over to the bed.
He was awake now, his eyes focused on a distant point in the ceiling.
Anika hoped the technique was working. The blocker must have worn off. She longed to reach for him and smooth away the terrible pain.
Maggie tore open a small packet, extracted a towelette, and rubbed it over her hands. A sharp whiff of alcohol stung Anika’s nostrils.
“Your turn,” Maggie said.
“What is that?”
“Antiseptic.” Maggie laid out her instruments. “Syringe, scissors, locking forceps. All set.”
To Anika, the sharp-edged metal tools looked as if they were designed to torture, not heal.
Maggie peered into Gianni’s eyes with a tiny light, listened to his heart and lungs, checked his pulse. “He’s stable. Have you ever taken out a bullet?”
“No. I’ve only treated laser fire in the field. What about you?”
“I worked in an ER, remember? Lasers are for rich folks. Chicago streetfighters use bullets. Remove the towels and cut off his pants leg. I’ll prepare the lidocaine.”
“The what?”
“It’s like a stronger form of Numb-It.”
Anika loosened the towels she had used to stop the bleeding, then scissored through the blood-stained cotton pants. The wound was a deep brown, red, and purple hole in Gianni’s outer thigh.
Maggie filled a syringe with a clear liquid and inserted the needle near the wound’s edge. She injected some of the liquid, removed the needle, and repeated the process. “Is this Gianni? The one you called for in your fever?”
“You mean the fever you caused? It was the lemonade, right?”
“Yes, but if you had taken the pills I gave you, you wouldn’t have suffered so much. You would have just gone to sleep until the retrieval team arrived. Instead, you put yourself, and us, through a lot of extra trouble.” Maggie finished working the needle around the entire edge of the wound. “Does that hurt?” she asked Gianni.
He shook his head. His breath had evened out. And though he continued to focus his gaze in that concentrated way, the lines of pain around his eyes and mouth had softened.
“Good. The lidocaine’s working. We can start.”
“What next?” Anika asked.
“I’ll irrigate the wound with saline and then remove the bullet with these.” She held up a pair of wicked-looking tongs.
Anika’s mouth went dry. “Please be careful.” No point in hiding how much Gianni meant to her. Maggie would know soon enough, when she made her offer. Probably already knew.
Maggie injected saline into the wound. The liquid streamed into the hole and ran down the front and sides of Gianni’s leg.
Anika mopped up the run-off.
“Forceps.” Maggie held out her palm.
Anika swallowed and placed the instrument in Maggie’s hand. The tongs disappeared inside the wound. She sucked in a breath. They advanced deeper. The metal tool angled to the side, probed, held steady.
“Got it.” Maggie lifted out the tongs. Their edges gripped a flattened bit of metal.
A rush of pure relief, like a spring downpour, whooshed through Anika.
“I need to pack the wound and dress it. Cut four strips of athletic tape.” Maggie wet a piece of gauze with the saline and placed it inside the wound.
They would be done soon. Time to deal.
Anika eye-checked the room. Salazar had opened up one of the containers of food and was shoving forkfuls of Maggie’s cooking into his mouth. Mac stood guard at the shattered window, his back to the room, laser at his side.
She moved closer to Maggie and kept her voice low. “Whatever the agency’s paying you, I’ll double it.”
Maggie wet another piece of gauze and tucked it in behind the first one. Keeping her gaze on her work, she said, “They must pay field operatives quite well.”
“I have other resources.”
“What do I have to do?”
Anika looked down at the night table. “Can you fill that syringe with something?”
“Nothing lethal.”
“They don’t know that.” A grim smile tugged at the corners of Anika’s lips.
“And the money?”
“Finished?” Salazar pushed away an empty plate and stood up.
“Almost.” Maggie placed a large gauze pad over the wound and taped down both sides.
Anika waited until Salazar was engrossed in his handheld before speaking. “There’s a down payment in my knapsack. I’ll send the rest within a week.”
“What’s my guarantee?”
Anika didn’t think her personal promise would hold weight. What
good was a promise when you were bartering for your life? She mentally reviewed her inventory. “I’ll give you Pinks,” she offered. “A dozen. They’re powerful drugs. They — ”
“I know what Pinks are,” Maggie snapped. “The developed world’s panacea. Until they started killing people and the FDHA pulled them.”
“Then you know they’re worth a lot on the street. The lasers, too. Do we have a deal?”
Maggie reached inside her medical kit, brought out a vial of clear liquid and filled the syringe. She slipped it inside Anika’s sling. “We’re done here. Keep the leg elevated. When you get back, it should be imaged and checked for any deeper damage. Or, infection from the … arsenic.”
Anika wiggled her fingers inside the sling, testing them. The numbness had started to recede, replaced with the heat of a thousand pinpricks. She started toward the bathroom, but at Salazar’s growl, changed direction and walked into the kitchen. At the sink, she washed her hand, face and neck, then her hand again, buying time, waiting for more pinpricks.
Salazar stood on the other side of the countertop while Mac maintained watch at the living room window.
“You’d better get going.” Maggie spoke to Salazar. “The beach is open again. People will be out.”
“You heard the doc.” Salazar shook the restraints at Anika. “Time to go.”
Anika pushed aside the remnants of the seashell-and-bead curtain and moved into position.
“Dios.” Maggie pointed out the window. “Someone’s coming down the beach.”
Salazar turned.
Thank you.
Anika kicked out sideways. Salazar’s knee buckled. She swung the sling over his head. Twisted the material until it tightened around his face, then jabbed the syringe against his neck.
“Drop it,” she commanded Mac, who had leveled his laser at her.
“Shoot her, dammit.” Salazar’s voice wheezed out through the cloth, but Anika shifted so that his body shielded hers. Mac wasn’t that good a shot.
“Do it or I’ll drop him.” She dug the syringe deeper into Salazar’s neck. “Tell him, Salazar.”
“Okay, okay.”
Mac lowered his laser to the floor.
“Slide it over to Maggie.” Anika gritted her teeth. Her left arm screamed now, the pinpricks sharpened to tiny knives.
Maggie bent to pick up the laser.
“Get out your restraints,” Anika told Mac. She tried to block out the burning that had traveled up her shoulder to her neck.
“That won’t be necessary.” Maggie straightened and pointed the laser at Gianni’s head. “Drop the syringe.” Anika narrowed her eyes at Maggie and tried to concentrate through the heat and pain. “It’s not about the money. They’re offering us a life in the States. Citizenship. For Daisy, Roberto, and me.” Maggie moved closer to Gianni and placed the tip of the laser against his temple.
He was so still, his eyes closed.
“I gave him something to help him sleep. So he’ll be easier to transport.” She looked at Mac. “Tell Second I refused a bribe. That should sweeten my deal. The syringe is full of saline.”
Anika felt energy and hope drain away. Her grip loosened.
Salazar whipped off the sling, jerked forward, and drove his elbow into her stomach.
She doubled over.
He straightened and turned. Rammed a fist into her. The blow sent her sprawling.
She tried getting to her feet, tried shaking her head clear, and looked up into the tip of his laser.
“So you’re still on our side, huh?” he sneered. Then he fired.
Chapter 32
A steady drone pulled Anika back to consciousness. Her eyes fluttered open to Gianni’s gaze, his eyes like pools of dark chocolate. She couldn’t feel anything, not even the vibration from the monotonous bass in her ears. Her whole world was made up of that sound and Gianni’s eyes.
She must be dreaming. It was a sweet dream, not like the ones where loud noises and bright flashes chased her as she ran through a maze of narrow alleys until she awoke in sweat-soaked sheets.
Shadows passed over Gianni’s eyes, like clouds blocking the sun’s warmth.
A warning whispered through the dead sensation in her body. She tried moving her arms and legs and fought down panic when they didn’t respond.
“Stay calm, cara.” His voice reached out to comfort her. “You’re still recovering from the laser.”
Her mind cleared and she realized she was sitting next to him in a small jetcraft. Milky-white puffs in an otherwise dark sky drifted past the small window beyond his shoulder.
“Where?” Her voice was thick, as if cotton filled her throat.
“Over Texas.”
She lowered her gaze to study her still-numb body. She wore a dark long-sleeved jumpsuit. The top two fasteners had been left undone, exposing the hollow between her breasts. Mac. Her lips twisted. Although given her present state, she had to concede he had done her a favor by dressing her in the suit.
Its thick fabric provided a buffer between her bare skin and the wide straps that secured her torso, arms, and legs to the seat. Restraints bound her wrists. She couldn’t see past her bent knees, but assumed her ankles were tied as well.
Straps and restraints held Gianni in place, too. “How’s the leg?”
“Never better.”
“Liar,” she whispered. “Why did you have me do it?”
“It seemed like a good idea at the time.”
“We should have played possum,” she said.
Mac looked back from his seat in the cockpit. He turned to Salazar who was piloting the jetcraft and said something. Salazar nodded sharply. Mac got up and walked toward them.
“Have a good sleep, sweetface?” He squatted and checked the restraints. Gianni grimaced as Mac tugged on the strap across his upper thigh.
“Are these necessary?” She directed her gaze at the straps, then looked at Mac. “Afraid we’ll get loose?”
Mac rose and ducked his head so it wouldn’t hit the ceiling. “I guess we won’t be going out for that beer any time soon.”
Anika remembered his parting words from their encounter in the corridor at U.N.I.T. the morning of her solo.
“Not after I debrief Command on this botch job of a mission.” She let the threat hang in the air. “You won’t be seeing the outside of U.N.I.T. for a long time.” They stared at each other, unblinking, as the craft carried them to their inevitable destination.
Mac broke away first. “You’ve got that backwards. You’re the ones who won’t be leaving.” He started to turn away.
“Hey, Mac. In prison, the condemned get a final request, right?” He looked down at her, his bushy brows scrunching together. “How about taking off the restraints?”
Mac slid a glance toward Salazar, then moved to block his view. “Between me and you, I was told the device for that truck was a new kind of tracker. I didn’t know it was a bomb.”
Anika studied his face, the look in his eyes. “Okay,” she said. “I believe you.”
“Wrists only.” Mac released them. “And they’re going back on before we land.”
Gianni reached for her hand. Still numb, she couldn’t feel his touch.
“Mac’s right, isn’t he?” She took some comfort in the sight of his fingers twined around hers. “This is a one-way ride.”
“Not necessarily. I’ll be given a choice between a solo and exile. I’ll choose the solo.”
“They’ll let you choose?”
“A privilege of Level Threes.”
Some privilege. Still, hope sparked inside her.
“Will you be able to pick your solo?”
Gianni shook his head. “Stay close to Evan. If anyone besides Command and Second will know about an upcoming solo, she will. Once we learn what it is, we can work out a scenario.”
“How will we communicate? Same private channel as we’ve been using?”
“No, the code’s likely been broken by now. Pick another sequence.”
Anika thought for a moment. “The champagne that you brought that night. When I seduced you.”
“You seduced me?”
She widened her eyes. “You think I wasn’t faking my awkwardness at the prep session with the trainers? It was all part of my plan. To get you into my bed, away from the cameras and the recorders.”
“Good plan.” Gianni’s lips quirked and his eyes warmed.
Her heart quickened in her chest. God, he was beautiful.
“Okay, we’ll use the champagne year,” he said.
“Now, all I have to do is convince Command that I’ve stayed on mission this whole time.”
“Tell her you didn’t think my message about meeting at the truck stop was proof of my disloyalty. That you knew I would cover my story by making a reservation at the restaurant, showing up at the assigned time. I’m sure they’ve retrieved the restaurant’s security discs from that night. Verified my alibi, even if they don’t believe it. Stick with that story, no matter what.”
“We’ll need new IDs, prints, retinas,” Anika murmured, allowing herself to dream that they had a chance. “I know someone.”
“They’ll wait until my leg heals before they send me out,” Gianni said. “We’ll have a few days.”
“Where will we go?” The daydream clouded over. “Cuba’s no haven. Officially, it may be closed to U.N.I.T. but it’s got its own version of the nightmare.”
“We’ll need a boat.”
“Yes, the ocean’s a big area to track.” How long would they be able to stay one step ahead of U.N.I.T.? Any amount of time would be worth it. As long as they were together.
“We just need to make it to The Triangle.”
“So the rumors are true?” She remembered the stories shared by some of the older operatives during long in-between times in the field.
Gianni nodded.
“I’ve heard Bermuda is lovely this time of year.” She hoped to bring another smile to his face, but his expression remained serious.
“They’ll expect me to choose the solo. They won’t make it easy. I’m guessing they’ll first try memory modification.”
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