by Donna Young
When in danger, bluff. Kate stiffened when Roman’s words jarred her thoughts. Her mind reacted quickly.
“It’s about time.” She addressed Quamar as if he were an assistant. “I want to see Threader.”
When surprise registered in the man’s face, Kate contained a bleak smile. Somehow, she’d bet the giant didn’t surprise easily.
“Forgive me if I don’t believe your enthusiasm.” Quamar looked at Oily Face. “Search the area. I want Cerberus found.”
“You’re wasting your time,” she interrupted. “He’s dead.”
“I have time.”
“I don’t. I wish to see Threader now.” Quamar’s lips twitched slightly at her words, so slightly Kate almost missed it.
“Pardon me, Doctor, but once again, I do not believe you.”
She lifted her shoulder negligently, and the ache in the center of her back grew worse with her nervousness. “We lost our footing in the river and ended up tangled in debris. Cerberus got trapped underneath and drowned.”
“How is it, then, you were last sighted across the river?”
“You mean by Juan? You’ll find his body downstream also. Cerberus killed him before we tried crossing the river. It was Cerberus who told your men we were heading southeast.”
Quamar studied her for a minute, the opaque eyes boring into her. “And now you wish to see Threader.”
“Yes. Do you think I’m wandering around alone in this godforsaken place for my health?”
“I don’t know, but you’ve managed to wander far and in the opposite direction from where Cerberus sent my men.”
Kate let out an impatient sigh, then looked down her nose at the man. A difficult task considering he towered over her by almost a foot.
The giant ignored the look. “I’m curious, Doctor. You’ve been running for two days. Why the sudden change of heart now?”
“I’ll discuss my reasons only with Threader.”
Quamar’s thoughtful gaze rested on her a moment, then, speaking brisk Spanish, he nodded toward a man near Kate. “Eduardo, you and your men will escort Dr. MacAlister to Isla El León. You will treat her with respect.” His eyes narrowed on the men. “If she is harmed in any way, you will suffer. Am I understood?”
“Sí, Señor Quamar,” answered the man called Eduardo, his voice tight with apprehension.
A strong sense of relief swept through Kate making her knees weak. With Roman’s life at stake everything depended on Bazan’s calling off the search for him. She bit the inside of her lower lip. Please, God, let him be alive.
“After the tilt rotor drops you off at the airstrip,” Qua mar continued, “have the pilot refuel and return. By then I will be ready.” Quamar smiled at Kate, a full steely smile. “In the meantime I will look for Cerberus.”
“I told you, he drowned,” she warned.
“Doctor, I am the best,” Quamar replied in English. “And you were convincing up to a point. But you—how do you say—underestimate me.” He paused as the men flanked her. “I do not believe you had any intention of seeing Threader. And I do not believe Cerberus is dead.” His gaze skirted over the area. “Injured maybe, but not dead.” The black eyes danced with anticipated pleasure. “You see, I have known Cerberus for many years.”
Kate felt the blood drain from her face at the cold familiarity in the man’s words.
“To drown in a river is an easy death.” He ran his tongue over his teeth. “And the Cerberus I know would not die so easy.”
Chapter Fourteen
Roman had to admit Kate possessed a good sense of direction. They’d been tracking her for a couple of hours, and all the signs indicated she was headed straight for Cedar.
“You’re right. She’s going for help.” Cain voiced Roman’s thoughts. Something that happened often between the partners.
“She should have stayed put.”
“I agree.” Cain whistled and immediately got a response. Ian was still ahead, scouting.
While hiking, Roman told Cain about the past few days. Everything, that is, except the more intimate details.
“The mole could be anyone. All it takes is knowledge of the computer-access codes. Hell, there could be more than one person,” Cain concluded.
Roman glanced at his friend, noticing for the first time the lines of fatigue etched in his face. He knew better than to mention it. “I realized that, too. That’s why I didn’t call in for reinforcement and attempted to extract Kate myself.”
Cain scanned the area, his brows drawn together, his expression set. “Mercer would’ve given you the order to eliminate her if you couldn’t save her.”
Roman was aware of the emotions his partner held in check—he’d been battling them since Mercer’s phone call several days earlier. “It never became necessary. But I have to tell you, that damn Scottish attitude of hers almost drove me to it.”
Cain’s lips curved slightly, then he turned serious once more. “If you had to make the choice of either eliminating Kate—”
“It would never reach that point. We’d both be dead first,” Roman interrupted, his tone harsh with emotion.
Cain nodded his understanding and stepped through the bushes.
A deep voice spoke from behind. “But as I have said before, Cerberus, you are a man who will not die easily.”
Cain and Roman swung around in unison, hitting the ground in opposite directions before coming up crouched and armed. The giant had no gun, just Ian, who was unconscious and casually slung over the man’s shoulder.
Roman let the tension flow from his body and pointed his weapon down. “Damn it, Quamar, you almost got yourself shot.”
The giant laughed and slowly lowered Ian to the ground.
“Did you hurt him?” Roman asked, concerned over the stillness of his friend.
“He better not have.” Cain’s growl rumbled through the trees, his eyes searching for additional company.
“He’s a friend, Cain,” Roman inserted, raking his fingers through his hair. “I’m sure Ian is all right.”
Quamar nudged Ian gently with his foot. “He will be fine. I cut off his oxygen, but he should be unconscious for only a few more minutes.” Then the big man laughed. “As a soldier he is good, but I am better. Somehow he heard me.” Quamar shrugged. “I incapacitated him before he sent out a warning. In a few more years, he will make an excellent adversary.”
Sensing Cain’s rising anger, Roman decided to defuse the situation. “Cain, this is Quamar Bazan.”
The lines of suspicion deepened on Cain’s face at the mention of Quamar’s name.
“I’m aware of who he is.” Cain’s voice flattened into a deadly edge as he stepped from his brother and tilted his gun up. “An ex-Mossad operative, one of their best before he turned renegade. Trained also with the old KBG. Now a soldier for hire with a reputation for walking both sides of the law.”
Quamar shrugged his indifference at the insult. “The law is to the people. I choose to follow the laws of my people.”
Roman cut in before the situation got any hotter.
“He didn’t turn renegade. He’s a contract agent. I trust Quamar with my life, Cain.”
That stopped Cain. His partner grudgingly lowered his gun.
Quamar removed a handkerchief from his pocket and rubbed the sweat from his bald head, ignoring Cain’s suppressed hostility. “What Cerberus failed to mention is that on a mission, an Arab rebel unit targeted my tribe. He saved my people and now has my loyalty.”
Roman, uncomfortable with the praise, interrupted. “After Amanda’s death, Quamar used his contacts for an introduction to Threader.”
Quamar tucked the cloth in his back pocket and watched as Cain crouched by Ian. “Threader prefers gore and it is easy for me to give him what he desires most.” Then the big man sighed. “So far my victims have been undesirables. But I have not been able to prevent Threader from taking innocent lives, either.”
Ian’s eyes fluttered open and Quamar grunted when the SE
AL’s pupils focused. He glanced at Cain. “Your brother, he is fine.”
A groan cut across the air as Ian sat up taking the friendly scene in at a glance. Quamar slapped his shoulder goodnaturedly, ignoring how Ian’s fists rose defensively. “I would stand beside you in battle.”
“Am I missing something here?” Ian asked, his eyes wary.
“We’re wasting time,” Cain bit out. He grasped Ian’s hand and hauled him to his feet. “Kate’s still missing.”
“She is on her way to Threader’s island,” Quamar responded.
“You couldn’t stop it?” Ian demanded.
“I ordered it. There were too many men around when I discovered her. I could not rescue her safely.” Nodding to Roman, he added, “Dr. MacAlister is a brave woman. She told me you had drowned, then demanded to see Threader.”
Roman frowned. The woman was determined to protect him, even if it meant her own life.
“The only thing she fears is heights,” Quamar said. “Because of this, I ordered them to blindfold her.”
“Damn it!” Roman cursed as the image his friend painted flashed through his mind.
“They know Kate’s an acrophobic?” Cain snarled. “From what you’ve told me, Threader will use it to his advantage.”
Roman snapped around at Cain’s comment. “You knew—?”
“That she was afraid of heights? Of course. You can’t keep something like that from family.”
“We’ve kept up appearances for Kate’s sake,” Ian inserted, echoing Cain’s attitude. “Although it hasn’t been easy. She didn’t want her secret known. Probably considered it a weakness. We decided a long time ago to humor her. Figured that was one of the problems of being so smart—she couldn’t accept any flaw in herself.” He glanced at Roman with only a hint of a grin. “I take it you didn’t know.”
The men waited for Roman’s confirmation. He gave it bluntly. “Not until yesterday morning.”
“There are too many hours between us,” Cain said, steel blades edging his tone. “He’ll have plenty of time with Kate to play his sick games.”
“Possibly, but I don’t think he will harm her,” Quamar responded, thoughtful. “I think he intends to marry her.”
“The hell you say!” Ian spat at the ground. “She’d kill him first. I’ll kill him first!”
Roman ignored Ian’s outburst, a deadly calm settled over him. “How do you know? Did he tell you his plans?”
Quamar sighed. “No, he shares his thoughts with only one person, a woman named Phoenix. My opinion is based on my orders to bring in Prometheus to enjoy his sister’s wedding.”
“If what you say is true, I’ll be there.” Cain stepped up, bringing the two men chest-to-chest, his face set in stone. “Can you guarantee she’ll remain unharmed?”
Quamar shook his head. “That is impossible. The man is insane. More so each day.”
“I’ve a plan that will guarantee it,” Roman countered. The idea of Threader touching Kate incited his fury and his fear. “We just have to give him a way to control her other than using pain.” He locked his gaze on Cain. “Do you trust me?”
Cain met the stare, his feet still firmly planted in front of Quamar. “If it will save Kate, I would trust Satan.”
“No, not Satan,” Roman said grimly. “Just Satan’s protector.”
“It’s decided.” Quamar glanced at the sky and stepped back from Cain. “I have the tilt rotor waiting for us. When we reach the aircraft, we will dispose of the pilot. Then I will give thanks to Allah and ask him to watch over us before we fly to Isla El León.”
Quamar turned to Roman. “On the way, you can explain your plan,” he said. “And I will give you information regarding the woman named Phoenix. It is very possible she is your mole.”
THE SWELTERING HEAT of the island slapped Kate in the face like a wet rag as she stepped from the twin-engine plane with her escort. Considering her docile, Eduardo had accompanied her with the help of only one other man, leaving the rest to follow in a separate cargo plane. They’d treated her with a cool politeness. And both were careful not to touch her.
A white limousine crossed the tarmac and stopped a few feet from Kate. Eduardo opened the passenger door.
“Please join me, Dr. MacAlister,” an elegant voice insisted.
Kate hesitated, wanting to ignore the request until she felt the soft prod of Eduardo’s gun. When she slid onto the cool leather seat, Eduardo closed the door. The lock clicked.
Her first look at Nigel Threader’s profile surprised her. Handsome, like an Adonis, he was younger than she expected. Not much over forty, he was the perfect male specimen with his blond hair, blue eyes and gray Armani suit. Nevertheless, a slickness ran underneath the elegant persona, which made Kate’s skin crawl.
Then he turned to face her. She barely stopped the sharp intake of breath as her gaze locked on the right side of his face. A crescent scar, larger than a silver dollar, half circled his eye, puckering the skin and pulling grotesquely on the eyelid.
“Welcome to Isla de El León. I trust you had a good trip.”
Recovering, Kate’s attention turned from the deformity.
When she didn’t answer, he shrugged. “No matter. I expected obstinacy at first. You haven’t disappointed me.” He poured her champagne. “Yet.”
Kate recognized the Waterford pattern. The man had expensive taste. After handing her a glass, he raised his champagne in a mock toast and drank. Kate continued to hold hers, unwilling to participate in the charade.
His mouth tightened but his voice remained silky. “I would introduce myself, but I’m sure it’s unnecessary.” Threader’s eyes caught hers, the blue turning laser. “And knowing Cerberus, he has told you what I am capable of. Didn’t he, Katherine?”
He lifted an eyebrow when she stiffened over her name. “You don’t mind me calling you by your given name do you?”
“Yes, but not as much as I mind being in your company.”
His lips thinned against his teeth. “Well, it will be your responsibility to adjust. You’ll find that I do as I please and you’ll learn to accept it.” He set his glass on the small cherry wood table in front of their seat.
Kate cleared her throat, determined to keep her voice even. “Let me be direct, then.” She set her glass beside his with only a faint tremor. “You want the formula. I have it. And I’m willing to negotiate.”
His amused gaze slid over her face, down her body.
He leaned back and crossed his legs. “Very well, my dear, let us negotiate.
“My equations for the formula are instrumental in—”
“You misunderstand,” Threader interrupted. “The formula is only a part of the negotiations.” He waved his hand. “A bonus.”
Kate couldn’t hide the confusion that crossed her face.
“What we are bargaining for,” he said, drawing out the words until they slithered through the car, “is the life of your brother Cain and your lover, Roman D’Amato.”
Kate froze. “I don’t understand.”
Threader clucked his tongue. “Yes, you do.”
Kate willed herself to ignore the dread that gripped her.
“I’m sure this comes as quite a shock, but I received a call as you taxied in. I believe you have met my employee, Quamar?”
Kate could only nod.
“It seems he’s captured your brothers and Roman. He’s bringing them to me.”
Brothers? Kate blinked, not sure she’d heard him right.
“From your expression, I’m assuming you had no idea Ian accompanied Cain on his rescue mission.” Nigel waited a few moments. “Unfortunately, Ian died trying to escape and fell out of the helicopter.”
“You’re lying!” she cried. She would’ve felt Ian’s death, known it. Not wanting to hear any more, she stared out the window, shaking.
The limousine halted in front of a large gate. But when the wrought iron slid open to allow them through, Kate hardly noticed.
“You re
alize, of course, what’s at stake here.”
Kate glared at Threader, refusing to give him the satisfaction of seeing her grief. “Are you willing to trade the formula for Cain’s and Roman’s lives?”
“No, but I am willing to trade their lives for your loyalty.” He ran his finger down her jaw. “And obedience.”
She wrenched her head back, and a predatory smile curved his lips. “As I said before, the formula is a bonus. We’ll call it your wedding gift to me.”
Wedding? Even if his words hadn’t registered, his look left no doubt that the man was serious.
The limo stopped. Kate closed her eyes, wishing the nightmare would end but understanding it had just begun.
Chapter Fifteen
Kate rose from the rich blanket of bubbles and grabbed the thick bath sheet lying beside the Italian marbled tub. Any other time she would have enjoyed the bath. But her thoughts were on her upcoming meeting with Threader. She quickly patted herself dry and donned a sapphire silk robe the servant had laid out.
Three hours had passed since she’d been locked in. After the guard had closed the door, sobs had wracked her body. Once drained, her agony turned to anger. She spent the balance of time searching for weapons or a means of escape, only to come up empty-handed.
She walked into the adjoining bedroom, using the towel to rub the dampness from her hair. Her cell was crimson, the color of blood, with the finest furnishings. The brocade wallpaper, velvet bedspread and matching drapes—all dark red—were high quality. Even the mahogany furniture cost a small fortune. But everything collectively made the room appear vulgar somehow.
“Are you enjoying yourself, my dear?”
With a startled cry, Kate’s gaze snapped to the balcony. She clasped the towel to her chest.
“Come, come. Modesty has no place here.” Threader chuckled, his body leaning against the French door frame. “In time you will get used to my seeing you naked and even start enjoying it, I imagine.”