by Debra Webb
Raine nodded succinctly. “That’s pretty much the bottom line.”
Dillon leveled his evil gaze on Raine’s. “I think I’ll take door number three, Monty.”
Anger seared through Raine’s control. “There is no door number three, you low-life scumbag. Now tell me the name of your source.” Raine pressed the barrel of the Glock to Dillon’s forehead. “I’m fresh out of patience.”
Dillon smirked. “Oh, but you don’t understand, my friend. This is my game and I set the rules.”
“Say good night, Dillon,” Raine warned.
“Rule number one,” Dillon continued despite Raine’s warning. “If you kill me, Kate dies.”
Raine blinked, his heart skipped one beat, then another.
That satanic smile spread across Dillon’s face once more. “Ah, I thought that would get your attention.”
“Go to hell,” Raine snarled.
“Been there, and it wasn’t half as much fun as being here with you. Or being with sweet little Kate.”
“You’re a liar.”
“When it suits my purpose,” Dillon agreed.
“Kate’s safe.” Raine could feel the muscle in his jaw jerking rhythmically. “And you’re dead.” Raine tightened his grip on the butt of the Glock in anticipation of the recoil.
“For the moment, she’s safe.” Dillon knitted his eyebrows as if trying to remember some important detail. “What was it she said?” He hummed a note of irritation, ignoring Raine’s mushrooming agitation. “Oh yes. She shouldn’t have believed anything until she heard from you.”
Dillon’s words stabbed into Raine’s chest and cut right through his heart. He’d warned Kate not to believe anything until she heard it from him. How could Dillon know that? He couldn’t possibly know where Kate was. She was safe.
“You lying son of a bitch,” Raine muttered as he re-focused his attention on putting a bullet between Dillon’s eyes.
“She should have trusted you, Raine.” Dillon shook his head. “But she didn’t. She shouldn’t have believed anything until she heard it from you, but she did.”
“What do you want?” Raine demanded, barely able to restrain the rage trembling inside him.
“The same thing I’ve wanted all along. I want you.” Dillon lifted one dark eyebrow. “And the money, of course.”
Chapter Thirteen
Raine sat in a chair next to the telephone in the hotel room he had shared with Kate less than twenty-four hours ago. Housekeeping had changed the sheets and made the bed, and left clean towels sometime since he’d left. But nothing could erase the memory of her sweet scent from his mind. The taste of her skin and the feel of her welcoming body around him was imprinted forever in his soul. But she was gone.
He’d walked out on her.
It shouldn’t have mattered how she’d wound up on his doorstep or who had sent her. He should not have allowed anything to come between them—not her true identity or this mission.
But he had.
Raine drew in a harsh breath and set his jaw against the pain that shuddered through him at the thought of Dillon touching Kate. Raine had suffered death a thousand times over during the seemingly endless hours since his meeting with Dillon. And now, as the lighted display on the clock blinked from 2:00 to 2:01 a.m., Raine still waited for Dillon’s call.
Ballatore hadn’t been too happy about Raine letting Dillon walk out of that warehouse alive, but the old man had been willing to back off and let Raine handle Dillon. “As long as he dies,” Ballatore had said when he’d given Raine the case containing the bait.
Oh, he would die. Raine intended to watch Dillon die. At the moment, that single goal was all that kept Raine from losing his mind. He just didn’t know if he’d be able to live with himself afterward if the bastard had hurt Kate.
The telephone rang and Raine snatched it up before the first ring ended. “Yeah,” he rasped, his voice rusty from the long hours of disuse.
“Take a walk in the park. Head in the direction of the zoo. We’ll be waiting.”
A click ended the brief call. Raine placed the receiver back in its cradle and stood. He bent to pick up the leather case that held Ballatore’s money. The bag actually contained only a quarter of a million. The rest of the bulk was plain paper cut and banded into stacks. Dillon wouldn’t know the difference until it was too late.
Raine mentally reviewed the vague orders as he crossed the room. The hotel overlooked Central Park, but there was a hell of a lot of territory between it and the zoo. Raine recognized the strategy. Dillon would be watching, and when Raine was where he wanted him, Dillon would make his move.
And Raine would be ready.
AT THIS TIME OF NIGHT, not much moved in the park, and what did should be avoided if possible. The idea of Kate somewhere in this asphalt and foliage jungle urged Raine forward. He hunched his shoulders against the cold, his leather jacket proving less than adequate against the coldest night New York had seen this season.
The occasional antique-reproduction street lamp didn’t help much in the way of visibility. Trees, shrubbery and benches provided ample cover for anyone who didn’t want to be seen, yet allowed for freedom of movement. Dillon definitely had the advantage.
Dillon had selected a location that would provide him with the best cover, as well as numerous routes of escape. If anything went wrong, disappearing into the shadows would be simple. Why not stack the deck in his favor? It was Dillon’s favorite way to play the game—a win-win situation.
Raine moved quietly past an artfully designed wall of boulders, his gaze shifting quickly from left to right. Nothing moved. The zoo entrance loomed in the distance. It wouldn’t be long now. Raine’s tension escalated, sharpening his senses.
Ten minutes later and midway between street lamps, Dillon stepped out of the shadows, Kate at his side. Raine stopped several feet away. His gaze slid swiftly over Kate and found no indication that Dillon had harmed her, at least as best Raine could see in the faint light.
“Nothing like a stroll in the moonlight,” Dillon taunted as he pulled Kate closer.
Kate struggled against his hold but Dillon only laughed at her attempts to free herself. Raine willed himself not to react. Any reaction would be just that much more ammunition for Dillon. Raine needed distance. He had to separate himself from his emotions. To think, not feel.
“Did you come here to talk, Dillon, or did you come to deal?” Raine asked curtly.
“Is that the money?” Dillon gestured toward the bag Raine held.
Raine nodded and tossed the bag on the ground in front of Dillon. “You have your money, now let Kate go.”
“Lose the piece.” Dillon gestured to his left. Raine drew the Glock from beneath his jacket, reached down and placed it on the ground, then kicked it away.
“Nothing up your sleeve?” Dillon asked sardonically.
Raine shouldered out of his jacket and dropped it to the ground. The night air’s bite made his muscles contract as he held his arms high in the air and turned slowly around, allowing Dillon to see that he wasn’t hiding anything. Saving Kate was too important. Raine wouldn’t risk her life by pulling any fast ones this time. Dillon was hovering too close to the edge. Raine would just have to fly this one by the seat of his pants.
“Good.” Dillon smiled his approval, then pulled the bag containing the money a little closer with one booted foot. “Just to prove what a good sport I am, I’m going to give you two things, my friend, before I kill you.”
“I thought we agreed that I would take him down.”
Raine snapped his gaze in the direction of the familiar sound of a male voice. Raymond Cuddahy, director of Special Operations for the past two years, stepped out of the shadows to stand next to Dillon. Shock vibrated through Raine as he mentally acknowledged the seriousness of the situation. No one—at any level—was safe with a man like this at the top of the heap. For about two seconds Raine felt some sense of relief at having been right about Lucas, then the graveness of th
e situation hit him all over again.
Cuddahy smiled, seeming to enjoy Raine’s surprise. Raine had always despised the man’s cocky attitude. Short and stubby, Cuddahy had a major Napoleon complex.
As if reading Raine’s mind, Dillon laughed and cut Director Cuddahy a glance. “That’s one.” Dillon pushed Kate away from him. She hit the ground hard. “That’s the other.”
Kate scrambled to stand, but froze when Dillon trained his Ruger in her direction. “Stay,” he commanded roughly.
Kate’s frightened gaze jerked from Dillon to Raine. Raine nodded once, willing her to stay put with his eyes.
Raine suffered a twinge of panic when Cuddahy picked up the leather case, but relaxed when he didn’t seem inclined to open it just yet.
“Why?” Raine heard himself ask.
It was Cuddahy’s turn to laugh this time. “For the money, what else?” He shrugged. “I’ve taken advantage of my position on several occasions. The opportunity is always there. Especially with a sting this big. What’s a couple mil to a man like Ballatore? You just have to find the right man for the job. One who’s willing to take the ultimate risk and end up with nothing.”
Before the meaning behind the words could penetrate Dillon’s thick skull, Cuddahy had turned his weapon on him and pumped two silenced shots into the center of his chest. Dillon dropped like a rock, a look of disbelief permanently etched on his thin face. Kate screamed her horror, but to her credit, she quickly composed herself.
“Of course, killing Michael Ballatore wasn’t part of the deal.” Cuddahy shrugged. “It’s hard to find good help these days.” He glanced down at Dillon and shook his head. “Oh, well, there’s plenty more where he came from.” He smiled then. “One down, and two to go.”
Raine heard the depth of the breath Kate took. Her heart condition flitted across his mind, and he wondered briefly if she had taken her medication. Of course, there was a good possibility that in a few minutes it wouldn’t matter one way or the other.
Cuddahy shook his head, his dislike for Raine obvious. “You and your glorious reputation. Well, you sure as hell slithered into the wrong den of snakes this time, hotshot.”
“I did what I was contracted to do,” Raine replied evenly.
“But you still screwed up, didn’t you? You had no idea Dillon was on to you until it was too late.” He smirked. “No going out in a blaze of glory for Jack Raine. Hell, you even let her pull the wool over your eyes.”
Raine looked from Cuddahy to Kate and back, waiting for the other shoe to drop. Could Kate be working for Cuddahy? Raine couldn’t bring himself to believe that.
“Your old friend Lucas hired some big-time private agency to find you when you disappeared,” he explained, his hatred for Lucas as evident as his distaste for Raine.
“You mean, when your people couldn’t?” Raine suggested, purposely antagonizing him.
Cuddahy glared at Raine. “Well, she found you.” He stepped closer to Raine. “It was her call that alerted us to your whereabouts in Gatlinburg, and then in Charlottesville,” he sneered, leaning nearer.
Cuddahy’s words only confirmed what Raine had already figured out. His instincts were seldom wrong. But now wasn’t the time to dwell on that. “Where’s Lucas?” he asked. If Lucas had caught on to Cuddahy’s extracurricular activities…
“He had himself a little accident,” Cuddahy said glibly. “Your little friend here called to let him know what was going on with you, and, like any good deputy, Lucas passed the information on to me. Unfortunately, he had himself an accident on his way here. He’ll be out of commission for quite some time I’d say.”
“Lucas is no fool. He’ll figure out what went down eventually.” Raine saw the flash of insanity in Cuddahy’s eyes. Power and greed had done their work. He also saw in his peripheral vision, to his extreme horror, Kate inching her way toward the weapon on the ground. Raine clenched his jaw and forced his attention to stay on Cuddahy.
“Maybe, maybe not,” Cuddahy jeered. “I’m not opposed to recruiting myself another deputy. Maybe I’ll just drop by Bethesda on my way home and make sure that Lucas stays permanently out of commission.”
“The only place you’re going, you sleazy bastard, is the county morgue if you make one wrong move,” Kate countered in a tone so ruthless that Raine barely recognized the voice as hers.
Raine glanced over Cuddahy’s shoulder and saw Kate with the Glock pressed against the back of his head. Raine smiled and shifted his gaze back to Cuddahy. The mild surprise that registered in the man’s expression was swiftly replaced by insolence.
“Now, now, Miss Robertson. Lucas told me how this was your first field assignment. Are you sure you know how to handle a precision piece of weaponry like that.” Cuddahy laughed, then added, “Are you sure you know how to take it off safety?”
Even in the dim light, Raine saw the killer instinct glaze Kate’s eyes before she spoke. “I’ll tell you what I know, Director Cuddahy,” she said coldly, calculatingly. “I know this is a Glock 19 nine millimeter with a barrel length of a hundred and two millimeters, a magazine capacity of fifteen plus two, and if my impression of Raine so far is accurate, it probably has a modified hair trigger.” She paused, Cuddahy’s mouth sagged open in disbelief. “And just so you know,” she continued. “I took it off safety when I picked it up. Now, if you don’t drop your weapon, I will pull this trigger.”
Several charged seconds passed before Cuddahy, his eyes wild and his chest heaving frantically with fear, reacted. He leveled his silenced weapon on Raine’s chest. Less than three feet separated them. “I’ll kill him,” he barked, all signs of his previous cockiness gone now.
“I can’t stop you from pulling that trigger, Cuddahy, but considering the trajectory and range of my weapon, you’ll die first.”
A split second before he fired, Raine saw the decision in Cuddahy’s cold eyes. Raine moved, pitching himself to the right, but he wasn’t quite fast enough. By the time the hissing puff of the silencer reached his ears, the burn of metal had seared into his flesh. Raine hit the ground and rolled, momentarily dazed.
Two more quick, thudding pops sounded in the cold night air. Cuddahy crumpled to the ground. Kate stared at the downed man, then at the weapon in her hand. The shots hadn’t come from the Glock. Raine hadn’t bothered with a silencer. If Kate had fired, everyone in Central Park would have known it.
Groaning at the pain shooting through his side, Raine pushed to a kneeling position and turned to see who had put Cuddahy down.
Ballatore.
Raine shook his head and muttered, “Stupid old bastard.”
Kate dropped to her knees next to Raine and laid the weapon aside. “Where are you hit?” she demanded, hysteria rising in her voice.
“I’m fine.” Raine struggled to his feet, his left hand not quite stemming the flow of blood leaking from his side. He didn’t miss the hurt that marred her expression at his rebuff.
“I believe this belongs to me,” Ballatore said as he nodded to one of his men who immediately snatched up the leather case containing the money.
“I thought I told you to stay the hell out of this,” Raine growled.
Ballatore shrugged carelessly. “I’ve never taken orders well, and I’m too old to change now,” he countered, then smiled. “That’s why I’m the boss.”
“How did you find us?” Raine had to ask, he knew he hadn’t been followed.
Ballatore smiled, some of the old shine back in his eyes. “I knew you’d spot a tail in a heartbeat, so I put one on Dillon when he left the warehouse last night,” he said proudly. “The stupid bastard couldn’t spot a tail if he tripped over it.”
Raine frowned. “You were at the warehouse last night?”
“Did you expect me to pretend it wasn’t happening?” He pinned Raine with a steely gaze. “This is my city, Jack Raine, don’t forget that.”
“Get the hell out of here, old man, you just killed a government agent.” Raine fought the vertigo interferin
g with his ability to remain standing.
“I just did the feds a favor, and saved your pathetic excuse for a life in the process,” Ballatore challenged.
“Go,” Raine repeated harshly.
Ballatore hesitated as if he might say something else, but thought better of it. He and his four henchmen disappeared into the shadows.
“We have to get you to a hospital.” Kate tried to visually assess his condition in the near darkness. Raine’s shirtfront was soaked with blood and he could still feel the warm, sticky stuff seeping between his fingers.
“You should go, too, Kate,” he suggested.
“I won’t leave you,” she argued, concern tightening her voice and evidencing itself on her sweet face.
Raine bit down on his lower lip, but couldn’t stifle a groan of pain. He dropped to his knees. He wouldn’t be able to hang on to consciousness much longer. “Well, you’re in for a hell of a cold night, because I can’t walk out of here.” Why hadn’t he kept that damn cell phone?
Kate draped his jacket around his shoulders, then reached for the Glock. To put him out of his misery? Raine wondered through the fog filling his head. He jerked when the loud, repeated report of the weapon sounded into the quiet night. After firing several shots into the ground, Kate returned to his side.
“There,” she said, obviously pleased with her ingenuity. “That ought to get us some attention.
Raine attempted a smile. “Creative, Kate,” he mumbled. “Very creative.” Pain ripped through his side. He squeezed his eyes shut and doubled over with the intensity of it.
“Don’t you dare die on me, Jack Raine,” she pleaded, but her voice sounded oddly distorted and far away.
Don’t worry, I won’t, he wanted to say, but his lips wouldn’t form the words. I won’t ever leave you again. I love you, Kate. A sense of relief and calm came with the realization.
And then her sweet face blurred out and the world faded into oblivion.