The moon struggled through dark branches outside the window. Looking outside, he realized the wind had picked up. Soon would come the worst part of night and the last chill hours before dawn.
But he turned his back on the night, watching her face as he moved inside her with desperate care. He knew she would be hurt, no matter what he did, because she held back nothing and asked nothing in return.
She broke his heart with her honesty. How in the hell was he going to walk away from her when the order came down?
She slid her hand between their bodies, and his world tilted. Wolfe pulled her astride him, thigh to thigh, buried in her heat.
Desire burned white, consuming all thoughts of tomorrow.
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
4:46 A.M.
Wolfe moved through the house, checking doors and windows. He felt the welts of Kit’s nails on his back and chest and wondered how many marks he’d left on her.
She had welts of beard burn on her face.
On her breasts.
Especially on her thighs, where he’d enjoyed a slow, thorough exploration until she’d writhed in hot pleasure. One more image he’d never forget.
Crossing the living room, he checked his watch. He was about to call Izzy for an update when his cell phone rang. By habit he checked the caller ID before answering.
Private.
Izzy’s prior calls had listed a 202 area code in the D.C. area, no doubt bounced back and forth through multiple relays for security.
Wolfe’s finger froze over the power button. He sensed a sudden trail of energy that he hadn’t felt in days.
Cold, he thought. Sticky.
Swiftly, he pulled out a second phone and hit a pre-arranged number. “Izzy, I’ve got a call coming in. It’s showing as private and I’ve got a bad feeling about it. Can you lock in with a trace?”
“Does it snow in Fargo?” The line went dead.
Wolfe raised his defenses, jacking up his focus. His finger hit the button. “Yeah.”
For long moments he heard only the snarl of the wind over the hiss of moving leaves. “Hello?”
“Am I interrupting anything important?”
There was no mistaking that voice.
“Cruz.” The word was cold on Wolfe’s lips. “Stop wasting my time.”
“Open your eyes, Houston.” Cruz’s voice hardened. “Have you checked your meds lately? Do you know what they’re giving you?”
“This is bullshit.”
“You want it to be bullshit.” The voice was low, persuasive. “You can’t trust Ryker.”
“Why aren’t you back at the facility?” Wolfe said flatly.
“They didn’t tell you how my body started to screw up? It’s happening to me right now. The rest of you will be next.”
“You’re full of it, Cruz. Nothing’s happening to me or my team.”
“It was my team once.”
“I’m hanging up now.”
“Wait.”
Wolfe heard the desperation in Cruz’s voice. Or was this another trick? “You want to tell me sad tales? You were a lot of things, but you were never a whiner.”
“I’m your worst nightmare now.” Cruz laughed acidly.
“Get to the point. Make your demand if you’re going to.”
“Oh, I will in time. Count on it. Right now you’re sweating. I can read you, remember? I can feel when you’re telling a lie.”
Then you must be close, Wolfe thought.
Standard mental wave forms, the kind the Foxfire team was trained to pick up, had a narrow dispersal pattern. Wolfe prayed that Izzy was tightening his fix on the call at that very moment.
“Forget it. They won’t find me unless I want to be found.”
“So what do you want?”
“A small Tahitian island? A handful of perfect pink diamonds? No, that’s too easy. I’m thinking of time. What would you give for two years of your life?” Cruz’s voice dropped. “Two years with her?”
Wolfe kept his voice steady. “Who?”
“I saw her in the car. I heard her laugh. The pet store was crowded, but I watched you together. The little dog is better than I imagined.”
So Wolfe’s instincts had been right. Cruz had been out in the parking lot. Since Cruz had already seen Ryker’s canine profiles, Wolfe didn’t bother to deny any details. “All of them are smart. But they’re nothing without training.” Wolfe glanced at his watch, determined to stretch out the call. “You should know that. I was no good until you got your hands on me.”
“You had raw talent driven by old emotion. Emotion was both your strength and your biggest weakness.” Silence stretched out.
As the seconds passed, Wolfe heard a droning sound carried by the wind.
A train whistle? Some kind of heavy equipment?
“Have you had her yet?”
Wolfe spit out a low curse.
“You’re angry, so I’d say that means yes. Enjoy her while you can, because I’m coming.” Again the droning tones drifted on the wind.
Wolfe wanted to punch hard, throwing his enemy off balance. “How did you kill the waitress?”
The silence turned menacing. “Did they tell you about the wounds on her face and neck? Did they tell you what I can do now?”
“You destroy. That’s all you can do.”
“We all destroy. Death is our greatest creation. Ryker saw to that.” Cruz’s voice shifted. “I’m coming for the woman and the dogs. Stand in my way, and I’ll destroy you, too.”
The line went dead.
Wolfe was still holding the phone when his other unit chimed. He answered with hands that seemed stiff.
“Sound pattern screening verifies that was Cruz. I tracked the call, too.”
“Where was he?”
“Paris. Buffalo. Mexico City. The bastard is good, I’ll say that. His relays shifted every twenty seconds, which leaves us nowhere.”
“Not exactly.” Wolfe climbed the stairs swiftly. “He wants contact, Teague. Some part of him remembers what it was like to be part of a unit. He wants that sense of belonging, and I can use that. It could be the only weakness he has left.” Wolfe didn’t mention the odd whine he’d heard. He was operating on a hunch.
“What did he mean about Kabul when he called last time?”
“Long story. Some day when we’re eighty, I’ll tell you.” Wolfe opened the door to the bedroom. Kit was still draped over his pillow, fast asleep. Her three dogs were stretched out around the bed in full protection mode.
He walked quietly to the bathroom, checking the windows and scanning the roof. “You got the rest of what Cruz said, the part about the medicines?”
“I heard. You want me to look into it?”
“Don’t bother. He was just rattling my cage.”
Wolfe finished checking the windows and walked through the dark bedroom. “Have your people at the clinic monitor Diesel constantly. As soon as the dog can travel, I want him brought back here. Cruz is close, never doubt it for a second.”
“How can you be so sure?”
Because I squatted beside him in the freezing mud. Because we’ve been to hell and back together.
What did the Chinese call it?
“Because we’ve eaten bitterness from the same bowl, Izzy. Because I know how he thinks. Sometimes I wish to hell that I didn’t.” He glanced at his watch. “I’ve got to call Ryker.”
It was raining now, heavy drops that beat against the windows.
He felt a moment of weariness, staring out at the rain-swept roof. “I have to tell Kit something, Izzy. She’s not stupid. She and her dogs are Cruz’s primary target, and she needs to know what she’s up against. Otherwise she’ll be flying blind.”
A sound in the darkness brought Wolfe around in a lightning crouch, his Sig drawn and level, his finger hovering at the trigger. He tracked the shadows, looking for threats, but saw only Kit.
Her face was pale, her eyes glittering with anger. There might have been a hint of tears, too. “Yo
u cold bastard. How could you lie to me that way? Everything’s been a lie. They train you to do anything and say anything to get the job done. You’re just like Trace—nothing matters to you but the mission.”
“You’re wrong, Kit.”
“No, I’m just waking up.” She bit back a broken sound. “You’re using us as bait, aren’t you?”
“Kit, listen to me—”
“I don’t want to listen anymore.” She watched him holster his gun. Her voice broke. “This is for my dogs. It’s also for me.”
Then she slammed her fist into his face.
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
WOLFE DIDN’T RUB his cheek, though it throbbed from her full-force punch. He figured Kit had earned a good shot at him. “You want to say that again?”
“You told me we were safe.”
“You are,” he said flatly. “No one is getting past me or Izzy.”
“That’s not what you just said. ‘She and her dogs are Cruz’s primary target.’ I heard you, Wolfe. What have you gotten us into?”
“Sit down and I’ll tell you.”
“Another lie?” She cradled her hand as though it hurt. “I’m leaving now, and I’m taking the dogs. I don’t trust you anymore.”
“You can’t leave, Kit.”
“No? You’d have to use that gun to make me stay here now.”
“If it will keep you alive, I’ll do just that.”
“It’s over.” Her voice was empty and tired.
It was better this way, he thought. Colder, faster. Like Izzy said, the quick way was always best. “Your call,” he said finally.
She stared at him, her face hidden in shadows. “It was over the second you lied to me and endangered my dogs.” When he moved closer, Kit raised her hands between them.
His eyes narrowed. “Don’t fight me, Kit. Believe me, it’s the worst thing you could do right now.” He walked through the bedroom and stared out at the rain sheeting across the roof. “Ask your questions,” he said without turning. “I’ll answer what I can.”
She sat on the edge of the bed, her hands clenched. “Who is Cruz?”
“Someone I used to work with.” Wolfe frowned at the rain. “He’s gone rogue.”
“Why does he want me and my dogs?”
Wolfe considered his words carefully. He couldn’t cancel out years of training, years of secrecy. “He’s been looking for dogs to use in training programs. Somehow he found out about your background and credentials. We think he may be headed here.”
“Damn you,” she whispered. She looked at the floor, where the dogs sat expectantly. They ringed the bed, absolute trust in their eyes. “When?”
“Impossible to say.” He wanted to touch her, but he knew that this Kit—the one who was angry and determined—would stand a better chance against Cruz. “Could be an hour, could be a week.”
“What does he look like?”
Wolfe pulled out a picture, cropped to show only Cruz’s gaunt face. “Have a look.”
Kit studied the photo carefully. “He doesn’t look dangerous. He looks more like a POW in the WWII pictures I’ve seen.”
“He’s dangerous.” Wolfe looked at the picture before sliding it back into his pocket. “There’s something else you need to know.” He knew he was skirting the edge of insubordination to hint at a program and skills that had to remain top-secret. “You may not recognize him. He’s trained in…disguise. He could even pass for me or you.”
“I don’t believe that.”
“Just accept it—and don’t ask for explanations. From now on, if anyone calls you or tries to enter the house, I want you to ask them how the weather is in St. Louis.” His eyes darkened. “Even if it’s me. Do you have that?”
“I just ask that question?”
Wolfe nodded. “If they say anything except ‘mostly cloudy, a hint of snow,’ then get the hell out of here.” His voice hardened. “And be sure the dogs go with you.”
Kit took a deep breath. “This all sounds ridiculous.”
He filtered out more of the truth to give her. “I’m sure you’ve noticed your dogs are special. Don’t ask why. Just accept that they are gifted in ways you can’t imagine. If you want to stay alive and protect them, you need to do what I say.” He bent down and scratched Baby’s head. “I’ve programmed your cell phone. If anything happens, hit *0. Izzy will take the call immediately.”
She looked at him for a long time. “What about you?”
“I may be…unavailable.” It occurred to him that she hadn’t questioned him about Izzy or the men outside the house. She’d accepted their presence as necessary. She might be angry with him, but she still trusted him to make choices to protect her.
She started to say something, then looked away. The branch was scraping the window again. The hours they’d spent together in bed seemed a century in the past.
“Fine. I’ll remember.”
The tension grew. The dogs stirred restlessly, staring from Kit to Wolfe and back again.
He glanced at the clock. There was nothing more to say. “I have to go make some calls.” He rubbed his neck, frowning. “Try to sleep.”
She made a sound that was too hard for a laugh but too soft for a curse. “Right.” Rain gusted against the window. “Go make your calls.”
Nothing more to say, Wolfe thought bitterly.
“DAMN IT, HOUSTON. You’re eight minutes late. You were to check in at 0500 hours.”
Wolfe stood motionless, cell phone to his ear. “Sorry, sir. We had a call from Cruz.”
Ryker’s breath hissed out. “Teague tracked the source?”
“Affirmative. But Cruz used relays to half a dozen cities, changing every twenty seconds.”
“So you got nothing. What did he want?”
“To taunt me. To let me know he was alive. To tell me he’s coming after the dogs.”
“He’s gone over the edge. What about using an energy net to track him?”
“He was always the best at energy surveillance. If you want a net, I need Trace O’Halloran here with me.”
“I don’t have O’Halloran. I have you, damn it, and you’d better start earning your pay.”
Pay? It was enough for himself since his expenses were nil, with food and lodging at Foxfire’s various facilities, but not enough to support a wife and family.
Wolfe took a deep breath. Why was he thinking about a family? The program medications had destroyed any shot at that months ago.
As rain drummed on the roof, he worked back through every second of Cruz’s call, replaying the distant drone that continued to bother him.
Something teased at the back of his mind.
Summertime.
Darkness.
There’d been crickets then, but they hadn’t obscured that odd mechanical cadence. Some kind of heavy equipment…
“Houston, what are you doing to track Cruz? That’s your primary objective.”
Not saving Kit.
Not protecting the dogs.
“Don’t worry, he’ll come for us. He said that clearly.” Wolfe stopped. His hands clenched. “I’ve got to go, sir.”
“Commander, what did you mean by—”
“I’ll have Teague finish the briefing, sir.” Wolfe strode toward the door, ending the call. He swung his pack up from the floor, his eyes on the rain, thinking about a summer thirteen years before.
HE FOUND HER in a chair in the kitchen, the dogs around her. She had a glass of milk that hadn’t been touched and a book that hadn’t been read.
“I have to go out. Stay here. Izzy will be with you.”
“I’m sorry it had to be…” Kit shrugged. “Like this.”
“Forget it. This would have happened sooner or later. The military makes a damned jealous wife.”
“I wish…” She swallowed. “I wish that things were different.”
“But they aren’t.” Wolfe checked his Sig and shoved it into his waistband underneath a black ballistic nylon slicker. “You deserve champagne
and roses. Don’t ever forget that.”
“You’re not coming back?”
He needed to get Cruz before Cruz could get to her. If he succeeded, he wouldn’t be coming back anytime soon.
That was the best thing for all of them.
He bent down, scratched Butch under the chin. “Hard to say. Keep an eye on stuff here, you guys. You’re one hell of a team.”
Baby licked his chin, and Wolfe chuckled. But when he stood up, his smile was gone.
Rain gusted through the door as he headed out into the first gray light of dawn.
THE SHED WAS UP the northern slope of a rocky ridge. The railroad tracks were barely visible from the road and completely out of sight of the house.
Wolfe circled up the far side of the slope and came in from the back, squinting against the rain. The outside lock, a simple aluminum square, was sheared through. But the lock had been rehung so anyone not looking closely would see nothing amiss.
Wolfe hadn’t come within twenty yards of the door before he knew this was the place. Cruz’s energy hung in the air, thick and smoky, physical enough to mock him. But Wolfe felt only remnants, nothing that seemed alive.
Touching the door, he waited. When he sensed no threat, he flipped on his xenon penlight and went in.
Empty plastic water bottles littered the floor. They were all the same brand and he wondered if Cruz had robbed a machine nearby. Food wrappers covered a single rickety table, along with a huge stack of old magazines, everything from Scientific American to Cosmo.
Cruz was catching up on news and culture, it appeared. But how the hell had he gotten here so fast? Judging by the trash, he must have arrived about the same time Izzy had brought them in. No one had followed them after the attack on the road, Wolfe had made certain of that, and Izzy’s team had noted no surveillance.
Cruz was too damned good.
Wolfe picked up one of the water bottles and rolled it between his fingers, slipping into altered theta to enhance his impressions. He had a sense of Cruz near the window, absorbing a science article and tossing the empty bottle over his shoulder.
He picked up a food wrapper, reading the energy thread it carried. This time he sensed gnawing hunger.
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