by Cindy Dees
“Did you or did you not kill a bunch of children?”
“We did. But—”
“But nothing. Discussion over.”
“You’re a scientist. How can you refuse to hear the rest of the facts? You’re not telling me you blindly believe everything you read in the news or hear on television, are you?”
“Of course not,” she replied, a shade indignantly.
“Then why won’t you entertain the possibility that this guy wasn’t entirely factual in his representation of what happened?”
She sighed hard. Folded her arms defensively over her chest. “Fine. Tell me what really happened.”
As he’d already done more times than he could count with various counselors and doctors over the past year, he relayed the details of that awful, unforgettable night. How his team had gotten a report of a massacre in progress. How they’d rushed to the village but had been too late. How they’d tracked the perpetrators and been stunned to stumble upon a child army of emotionless monsters. How the children had closed in on them. Been ordered by their leader to capture the American soldiers and torture them. How a reward had been offered to the children who could keep one of the Americans alive the longest after dismembering them.
And then, painfully, he told her about looking into the eyes of those children and seeing nothing at all. No feelings, no humanity. No souls. And that had been when he’d made the kill-or-be-killed decision and given the order to shoot.
“How did giving that order make you feel?” Lily asked in a hush when he finished.
He frowned. “I didn’t feel anything. It was the right decision. My men are not monsters. We only kill when it’s necessary, and that was a shoot-or-die scenario. I judged that the world would be a better place, safer for the locals, if those children died and we lived instead.”
“But afterward? Didn’t you feel anything?”
He grunted. “Yeah. I puked my guts up. Couldn’t eat or sleep for days. When we got back to our home base, the docs had to drug me into oblivion. When I woke up, I couldn’t move a muscle. I stayed that way for two weeks. Plenty of time locked inside my mind to think about the faces of those kids both before and after I shot them.”
“And what did you decide?”
He looked away. Back at her. “Look, if you want some big confession out of me, don’t hold your breath. I did my job. My men are alive. I don’t regret that. I’d make the same decision again.”
“Then why do you freeze up every time you get even the slightest bit stressed out?”
“Apparently, the unconscious human brain doesn’t deal well with the idea of killing children, no matter how justified it might have been. Or so say the legions of therapists and doctors who’ve treated me.”
She looked skeptical. “Well, obviously they haven’t gotten it right yet if you’re still having your episodes. They’ve missed something important.”
He replied bitterly, “By all means, if you find it, let me know. Despite your optimistic take on how much worse my life could be, this one still sucks.”
She subsided, staring out the window thoughtfully. It occurred to him she hadn’t commented at all on whether she bought his version of the events of that terrible night. Tension coiled in his belly. She had to believe him. He was telling the truth!
The military had done a thorough investigation and completely cleared him and his men of any wrongdoing. Of course, because of the highly classified nature of their team, the government couldn’t even acknowledge that any U.S. soldiers had been in Sudan that night, let alone come out with a public statement of support for him and his team.
As the minutes passed and Lily made no move to speak any more with him, he finally turned away and reclined his seat. He had a feeling the next two days were going to be very stressful, and he needed all the rest he could get if he was going to see her safely through them.
Chapter 8
Lily was really starting to miss sleeping in a real bed. She woke up with that special stiff neck she got only from sleeping in airplane seats. Her mouth was cotton-dry, too. Dawn streaked the sky as their plane descended into Washington, D.C. The Washington Monument and the Capitol dome were awash in pink light, and a layer of haze hung low over the city.
The plane landed and taxied past the big passenger terminals to a smaller, unmarked hangar. She was startled when the plane continued right into the hangar. As its engines spooled down, the hangar doors slid shut behind them.
“Oooh, how spooky and spylike,” she joked.
Carter nodded grimly. “That’s the idea. Because you are, in point of fact, entering the country illegally, we thought it best to make your arrival low-key.”
“Illegally?” she squeaked.
“We’re going to be bypassing Customs today, which is just as well because you don’t have your passport with you nor do you have any proof of where you just were.”
“Couldn’t you vouch for me?”
He replied, “I could, but it would take hours to go up the Customs chain of command and back down mine to sort it out. It’s easier to just do it this way.”
She saw the logic of it, but felt hinky breaking the law like this. The steps were duly lowered, and as she ducked out of the Learjet, Carter offered her a hand. Out of habit, she grabbed it.
So much for her never-touching-him-again promise. He’d had a pretty convincing explanation of the massacre, but she hesitated to just buy his story hook, line and sinker. She needed to think about it a little more. Listen to her gut when it decided to tell her something. Which left them in limbo.
She hated limbo. She hated both the dance of that name where drunks staggered under a pole, and she hated the state of being unsure of something and being caught in between knowing and not knowing.
A dark SUV with blacked-out windows was parked not far from the jet. Carter led her to it and she climbed into the surprisingly plush vehicle. “Nice wheels,” she murmured.
The hangar doors opened enough for the SUV to drive through them, and Carter muttered back, “It’s a Secret Service vehicle. Used in presidential motorcades. It’s armored, and the driver is a Secret Service agent. We’re not taking any chances with your safety until this thing’s over.”
Wow. They thought she was this important? Lily grinned. “If only Bill Kaplan could see me now. He’d have an aneurysm.”
Carter gave her a small, tentative smile. “Maybe you’ll be able to tell him about it someday. But truthfully, I wouldn’t expect this mission to be declassified until your grandchildren are adults. And if you tell them the tale then, they’ll think granny’s gone off her medications again.”
“I’m already batty, or so I’m told,” she retorted.
“I dunno. I haven’t seen any sign of it yet.” Then he added drily, “But I’ll let you know if I do.”
“Gee, thanks.”
The morning rush hour hadn’t yet ground Washington traffic to a halt, and they parked underneath a snazzy hotel in northwest D.C. in about a half hour. Apparently, they’d already been checked in because Carter whisked her straight up to a room on the fourth floor.
“You want to sleep some more?” he asked. “You were pretty restless on the plane.”
Something lurched inside her. He’d watched her sleep? Why would he do that? Was it just part of his job or maybe something more? Regardless, his suggestion sounded like pure heaven. She eyed the fluffy comforter and down pillows and sighed in bliss as she toppled over among them.
“Wake me up when you’ve saved the world,” she mumbled.
He laughed quietly. “Sweet dreams, chère.”
Carter might have wished her sweet dreams, but his wish didn’t come true. She dreamed of blood and mutilation. Of fanged children eating their mothers, and the screams of the women. And then, somehow, she was the murderer and her victim was a Russian man staring down at the gaping hole in his chest and back up at her. She glimpsed the guy’s still-beating heart and jerked back violently.
“Easy, sugar
. I’ve got you.”
Lily jolted awake. Strong, warm arms held her. Her ear was pressed against Carter’s chest and his heart beat slow and steady beneath it. She was safe. It was just a dream. A horrible nightmare. Not real.
What if it had been real? What if those images had been burned on her memory never to be forgotten? She might be a head case, too. Her arms crept around his waist. It wasn’t fair that any human being was asked to witness such atrocities or deal directly with them. She wished fervently that all wars would end and no soldier ever had to see the things Carter had, to make the decisions he’d been forced to, done the things he’d been required to. She desperately wanted to comfort him. To cradle him in her arms and erase it all from his mind, if only for a little while.
Assuming his version of events was reasonably accurate, of course, and not a complete fabrication to assuage his guilt and trick her.
Yup, she definitely despised limbo. She couldn’t bring herself to let him go, but neither could she bring herself to act upon her romantic and protective impulses. Man, this was the pits. He seemed content to just hold her, however, and she let him.
A small eternity later, she mumbled, “I suppose if I’m not going back to sleep, we might as well eat breakfast.”
She thought he might have dropped a fleeting kiss in her hair before he sighed and released her. “I’ll order room service. What’s your pleasure?”
Her gaze snapped to his. Him? Over easy with a side of whipped cream and chocolate syrup?
Darn if his gaze didn’t heat up. The man could read her like an open book.
Embarrassed that he’d caught her thinking such things about him, she belatedly replied, “A veggie omelet if they’ve got it. Any kind of muffin, and maybe some orange juice.”
“Your wish is my command,” he murmured.
Now it was her turn to feel heat in her face. The Southern boy was back to being a bit of a flirt apparently. Flustered, she retreated to the bathroom to jump into the shower. She hoped the scalding water would distract her from steamy fantasies of hunky soldiers with sexy drawls, but it didn’t. Maybe there was something to the cold shower theory after all. She was too chicken to test it, however.
Carter looked up mildly from the Washington Post when she emerged from the bathroom. “Enjoyed your shower?” he asked.
Now why did that make her cheeks heat up? It was a simple question. Maybe it was the idea of him knowing she’d just been naked and running her soapy hands all over her body in the next room. Or maybe she was just a hot-to-trot mess.
Thankfully, breakfast arrived, and it did distract her from her errant thoughts. Particularly when Carter commented near the end of the meal, “I got a call while you were in the shower. We’ve got an appointment at 11:00 a.m. at the Russian Embassy.”
“And we’re sure no one will try to kill me the second I set foot inside there?”
“We’re not sure of anything. But it’s my job to keep you safe and your job to convince the ambassador that there’s a serious problem with their doomsday machine.”
She wasn’t certain she would have any more success at doing her part of this mission than he would. But it wasn’t as if they could just walk away from this crisis. They had to try.
“Is there any chance I can get something more…serious…to wear to this meeting?” she asked hesitantly. “Ratty jeans and a GO ARMY sweatshirt don’t exactly scream brilliant scientist.”
“I dunno. You’re pretty cute in that gigantic sweatshirt. It makes you look about eight years old.”
“Great. Just the look I’m going for to get the Russians to take me seriously.”
He leaned forward and twined his fingers with hers. “I take you pretty seriously.”
Her breath hitched. That boy was going to get his bones jumped if he wasn’t careful—no, wait. Strike that. There would be no bone jumping until she had more time to think. To research the truth of the Sudanese shootings.
She extracted her fingers from his gently and spoke carefully. “Let’s just save the world first. Then we can figure out what comes next.”
“Deal.”
She frowned. He sounded entirely too pleased with that arrangement. What did he think she’d just agreed to?
“I’ll call the concierge. He’ll know where we can get you a nice suit fast.”
A suit. Right. Save the world. “Do you suppose that if we make the world safe for humanity my university will consider that grounds to give me tenure?”
He laughed heartily. “I should think so.”
She nodded resolutely. “All right, then. Let’s do this.”
Carter was still amused when they emerged from a women’s clothing store with Lily duly attired in a charcoal-gray suit that made her look like a high-powered attorney…who was about eight years old. She was just naturally an adorable person. Those big brown eyes and innocent air about her couldn’t be disguised, no matter how severe the cut of the suit.
He helped her into the double-parked SUV, which whisked them northwest on Massachusetts Avenue toward Embassy Row. The vehicle stopped in front of the Russian Embassy’s guard shack.
“Are you ready for this?” Carter asked her sotto voce.
“It’s too late to back out now,” she muttered back. “Ready or not, here we go.”
His thighs twitched warningly. Dammit, he was more “or not” than “ready.” The Secret Service driver gave the guard their names and passed their picture IDs through the window. They waited long enough that Carter’s back muscles were getting into the spasming act and his shoulders were starting to feel twitchy.
“You may have to go inside without me,” he ground out.
Lily’s hand immediately landed on his thigh. “Oh, no, you don’t. You’re not making me face the big, bad wolf alone. You relax right now, mister.” She started massaging him vigorously, and the tightness across his shoulders receded. As she leaned over to work on his thighs, he thanked his lucky stars that the Russians couldn’t see through the windows of this vehicle.
When her hands crept higher on his legs, though, his thoughts careened off in an entirely different direction. Memory of making love to her flashed vividly through his mind’s eye. Lily straddling him under the stars, moaning her pleasure to the heavens. And the damnedest thing happened. His back muscles started to unwind of their own volition.
“You may pass,” the guard outside announced.
Their SUV eased forward and around the circular drive to deposit them at the front door of the large building.
“Can you walk?” Lily murmured.
He laughed painfully. “Questionable, but not because of one of my episodes. Did you have to put your hands all over me like that?”
“Hey! I behaved.”
He blinked, startled. As if she’d been considering misbehaving? She abruptly looked abashed as well. Hadn’t meant to say that aloud, if he had to guess. “Now we really have to save the world. I want to see exactly what you were really imagining.”
Her cheeks pinkened as he opened the door and he made a careful visual sweep of the area. He spied no threats to her, but he doubted that he’d spot a sniper here if there were one. After all, he didn’t see any cameras, but he knew without a shadow of a doubt they were here, too.
Carter held out a hand to help her out of the car, and she grabbed the folder of printouts of the simulation data and joined him under the covered porch. He tried to stand close enough to provide cover for her, but not so close as to look like he was crowding her, or worse, hovering protectively. They couldn’t afford to insult the Russians at this juncture by acting like they thought the Russians were going to shoot them—even if that was exactly what he thought.
“Shall we?” he said much more casually than he felt.
“We shall,” she said firmly.
Yup, courageous woman.
He wasn’t surprised when they were forced to sit on low, uncomfortable sofas and wait for nearly a half hour for their meeting. It was a standard Russian nego
tiating strategy to throw an opponent off balance by making them feel ill at ease and impatient. To her credit, Lily didn’t fidget or seem flapped in the least. Maybe lack of punctuality was commonplace in academia.
Finally, an attractive secretary led them into a sitting room decorated in the Imperial style. Another standard Russian tactic. Make the opponent feel inferior and overwhelmed by Russian wealth and might. Lily, bless her, merely commenced circling the room and inspecting various works of art with interest. She didn’t seem the slightest bit overwhelmed.
They waited some more, which seemed just fine with Lily, who was having a ball exploring the room’s treasures. For his part, he sat back and enjoyed watching her. He never got tired of looking at her beauty. She almost didn’t seem real sometimes. It was as if a fairy had tried to take human form and not quite got it right. An ethereal, otherworldly quality clung to her.
The door burst open and a large man in a Russian Army uniform strode into the room. Carter rose to his feet slowly enough to signal that he wasn’t intimidated.
“Welcome, welcome,” the man said loudly. “How may I help you today?”
The guy seemed friendly enough, but Carter wasn’t fooled for a second. He replied, “We have an appointment with the ambassador this morning.”
“I’m so sorry. He is not available today. Important affairs of state come up, you know.”
Lily startled Carter by interjecting smoothly, “Yes, we know. In fact, we’re here to discuss a most important affair of state with him ourselves. We’ll be happy to wait until he has a free moment.”
Carter suppressed a grin as consternation flashed across the Russian’s face. But then the man’s gaze hardened. “The ambassador will not be available at all today. You must speak to me.”
Lily shrugged and looked the guy up and down, completely unimpressed with his medals and insignia of rank. For his part, Carter had already identified the man as a highly decorated Spetsnaz officer—Russian Special Forces—a man not to be taken lightly.