I'd Rather be in Paris

by Misty Evans

  Zara blinked as she looked up at the squares of sunlight shining down. Her feet made soft sucking sounds in the muddy ground. She reached for the ladder, but Dmitri stopped her.

  He motioned with his gun for her to back away from the ladder. “This is where we part company."

  She took a step back and then another as Dmitri raised the end of the gun to her face. “Now you're going to kill me?"

  The tip of the gun touched her cheek and Dmitri brought his face close to hers. “You could always beg for your life, princess."

  Pressing her back against the earthen wall, Zara coaxed anger to mix with her fear. She was not going to die in this disgusting tunnel. “You heard Commander Vaughn. This place is surrounded by SEALs ready to shoot you the minute you walk out of here. You have to take me with you. I'm your only hope of escape."

  "They won't catch me.” He placed one hand beside her head and positioned his gun next to her temple. “Especially if you're not slowing me down."

  Zara held herself rigid as he pressed his body against hers. “You were an interesting opponent this time. I regret we didn't have more time to play."

  She hated him being so close, but if she was going to do any serious damage with the knife, she needed him as vulnerable as she could get him. “Your plan failed and your partners are already under arrest. You have nowhere to go. Cut your losses and turn yourself in."

  The terrorist stroked her hair and ran his fingers across her throat. Smiling, he pulled the syringe out of his pocket and waved it in front of her face. “I still have Vos Loo's vaccine, which I'll put on the market and sell to the highest bidder. And I still have my life."

  He brought his lips down to hers, and she turned her head and shifted her right hand so the knife point slid into it. His lips brushed her cheek, and he whispered, “The only true failure in life, you stupid girl, is death."

  Girl?

  She pressed the end of the knife into his stomach. “Then consider yourself a failure."

  As Dmitri's eyes widened with realization, Lawson's voice echoed in the underground chamber accompanied by the distinct sound of a gun cocking. “Let her go."

  One side of Dmitri's mouth tipped up. He chuckled without humor. “Game over, Agent Morgan."

  The needle pricked her skin and a flood of warm fluid oozed into her veins.

  She jerked back and as the chamber exploded with gunfire, she dropped to the ground and screamed like the girl she was.

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  Chapter Forty-Six

  As a member of Flynn's secret army, Zara had been trained in wet jobs—the liquidation of an asset—although she'd always hoped and prayed she'd never have to perform one. Terrorists were one thing, a trusted asset another ... at least until one betrayed you. As Lawson yelled into his radio that she'd been infected with Vos Loo's virus and he needed immediate medical help, she laughed at the irony. Dmitri had just done a wet job on her.

  Goddamn SOB.

  Lawson bent in front of her, the muscle in his jaw working overtime as he used an antiseptic wipe to clean the blood from her hands. Dmitri's blood. “Medivac's on the way."

  "Your timing could use some work.” She looked into his panicked face. The face she loved. “You can't blame faulty communications on this one."

  "Yeah, well, you know us Hollywood types,” he drawled in attempt to match her laissez-faire attitude. “We always wait until the last minute to save the damsel in distress. Makes for a better climax."

  Behind them, Quick had already bagged Dmitri's gun and the still-half-full syringe. He bent over and checked Dmitri's lifeless body for anything else of consequence. “Hell of a job you did here, Agent Morgan."

  She was so tired she could barely speak. “My plan was to rescue myself."

  Lawson wiped at her cheek with a fresh antiseptic pad. His touch was incredibly tender and thorough. “Any broken bones?"

  She tipped her face into his fingers. Even with the latex gloves he was wearing, she liked the feel of his fingers, their heat against her skin. “No."

  His fingers stilled for a second, and then he continued with his cleaning. “You've got a pretty good bruise on your cheek and it looks like you've got a shiner to go with it. Dmitri?"

  She nodded. While her body was being invaded with the supervirus, it seemed like small talk was all she could manage. “I did that elbow-in-your-face move you showed me. Knocked him on his ass. He didn't like it."

  "Poor sport, huh?"

  "He didn't like a girl getting the better of him."

  "You're pretty woozy. Any drugs in your system besides the virus?"

  "No. I'm dehydrated and I haven't eaten since they kidnapped me."

  Lawson's gaze dropped to her clothes. “Looks like I owe you a new jacket."

  She looked down and scrunched up her nose. Blood was staining everything and ... “Oh God, what is that?"

  Lawson wiped at a bloody glob of ... of ... “Brain matter,” he said.

  "Dmitri's brains are on my Prada jacket?"

  Snapping off his gloves, he pulled out a penlight and checked her eyes. “Pupils are even and responsive to light. Any head injuries?"

  His face was so close to hers she could have leaned forward and kissed him. The green and brown camouflage paint on his cheeks had run together and turned to gray. “I cracked my head on the stairs but I think I'm okay. Just don't tell Flynn or he'll have a reason to label me mentally unstable and order a round of psych exams."

  Lawson's expression softened slightly. He stared into her eyes. “Any other injuries I should know about? Sexual assault?"

  She swallowed and shook her head, wishing he would lose the businesslike approach and at least smile at her. “What about Lucie? Is she all right?"

  John Quick raised his head. “Your sister's doing fine. She's with Director Flynn and the others at our base camp. I guess she's been telling everyone how you saved her life.” He stood and touched Lawson's shoulder. “I'm going up top to signal Teddy and the helo where to find us. By the way, Mohammed is a no-show. You need help getting Agent Morgan out of here?"

  Lawson shook his head. “I've got it covered. Thanks."

  John nodded and started up the ladder. The metal grate was rusty and squeaked when he jarred it loose.

  As silence settled around them, Zara stared at Lawson. She watched, fascinated, as his shoulders bent, his eyes closed and his head bowed. As if all the life were draining out of him. He drew in a deep breath and released it slowly.

  Wanting to reassure him, she laid a hand on his dirty, scruffy jaw. His hand came up to cover hers and they sat like that for several long seconds. When he raised his head, Zara was shocked to see tears filling his eyes.

  Lawson Vaughn was about to cry. Her tough, supremely confident, alpha-male partner was about to cry...

  Smiling, she leaned forward to press her lips against his. He slid his hands to the side of her face, kissing her back.

  She let her breath go. Lawson was kissing her like he loved her.

  But then he broke away. “This is my fault,” he whispered, resting his forehead against hers. “I've screwed up a few times in my past, Zara, but never like this. I put your life in jeopardy and I'm sorry."

  God, she loved him so much it hurt. “It wasn't your fault.” She ran a hand through his wet hair. “And I'll be okay. There's an antidote in the lab."

  "The lab was destroyed."

  "Destroyed?” Zara's stomach fell and a chill ran over her skin. “Tell me Vos Loo's still alive."

  Lawson nodded. “He's uncooperative, though. I'll probably have to beat it out of him, but I swear to you, I'll get the antidote."

  They stared at each other in silence. She couldn't tease him anymore. She couldn't let him believe this was his fault, but what could she say to keep him from blaming himself? “I'd do it all again just to bring Dmitri down."

  Dropping his head in his hands, he rubbed his face. “Zara..."

  She forced a grin. “At least my rep
utation will stay intact this way."

  He shook his head. “I've realized I don't work well in a partnership."

  Now she grinned for real. “Quitter."

  He didn't take her bait. “I'm a whole lot better being the leader of a group."

  In the distance, she heard the thump of helicopter blades. It was now or never. “You know about transference, right? With hostages?"

  "Yeah.” Lawson frowned. “I know what it is."

  "At Christian's I started having these weird feelings for you. I thought it was sort of like a crush, you being the guy who rescued me at the farmhouse and then again when you saved me from Varina."

  Lawson's frown deepened as though he wasn't particularly happy about that. He leaned back. “You have a crush on me."

  Zara knew from his body posture and facial expression she'd said something wrong. “It's not exactly a crush anymore. I'm in love with you, Lawson."

  A nerve in his jaw jumped. Before he could respond, John Quick was yelling from the open hole at the top of the ladder. “Heads up, Commander. Director Flynn's here. Wants to talk to you. Helo is due in three."

  Lawson gave his teammate a nod and began to busy himself with sealing his gloves in a plastic bag and sticking his penlight in his flak jacket. Avoiding her eyes, he asked, “Can you stand and walk?"

  She pulled her knees into her chest and hugged them, confused by his sudden all-business demeanor again. Her body ached, her heart was raw and, even though she was beginning to feel foolish for baring her feelings to him, she still had a yearning to wrap her arms around him and never let him go. “Yes."

  He rose to his feet and offered a hand to help her up, his gaze still avoiding hers. She ignored his hand and pushed herself off the floor into a standing position. Even though she weaved like she was drunk, she turned her back on him.

  Bending over Dmitri, she ignored the disfigured face and snapped the gold chain, her gold chain, off his wrist. “I've got less than three hours before I become contagious.” She could be all business too. “Once I hit that wall, no one can save me. I'd appreciate it if you'd go torture Vos Loo now."

  After securing the chain in her pocket, she reached for the ladder and hauled herself up. She didn't miss Lawson setting the timer on his watch.

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  Chapter Forty-Seven

  Conrad Flynn watched Vaughn assist the Medivac EMTs as they lifted Zara into the Army helicopter. He fully expected Vaughn to jump in, even if he had to kick one of the EMTs out to make room, so he could accompany her to the U.S. military hospital in Berlin.

  When Vaughn stood back and let the helicopter rise into the air without him, Conrad sensed it was the hardest thing the Commander had ever done in his life.

  As the helicopter's noise faded, Vaughn ran back to him. “I need ten minutes alone with Vos Loo."

  "I've already downloaded the information on the flash drives to Del. He'll find the antidote."

  "Zara doesn't have that much time. Course of treatment needs to start now."

  "Vos Loo is zipped up tighter than Fort Knox."

  "Ten minutes, that's all I'm asking for.” He pleaded with his hands out in front of him. “She's one of yours, Flynn. You can't let her die."

  Conrad understood Vaughn's determination, shared the feelings of responsibility for Zara's condition. “Officially, I can't condone torture."

  "No, sir. How about unofficially?"

  He considered that for all of two seconds. “Unofficially, I want you to do whatever it takes to save my officer."

  "That's the op plan."

  A few seconds later, Vaughn disappeared into the bunker, John Quick following in his footsteps.

  Julia slid up next to Conrad and circled his arm with hers. “I'm surprised you're not in there with him."

  "Blame your boyfriend. Stone's turned me into a pansy-ass government official just like he is."

  She chose to ignore his dig. “Lawson seems like a competent guy. I think Zara's life is in good hands."

  "I sure as hell hope so."

  * * * *

  Flynn had given him ten minutes to break Vos Loo. It took him three. Running out of the bunker with the combination of drugs to save Zara's life written on a piece of paper, he found Flynn standing exactly where he'd left him.

  "I've already contacted the hospital and spoke to the doctor in charge of Zara's case.” He handed Flynn the paper and gave Julia a nod of recognition. “Requesting permission to use your helicopter to follow up in person."

  Flynn took the paper and gave Lawson a look of disbelief. “Can Vos Loo walk out on his own or do I need to send in a stretcher?"

  "I never touched him, sir."

  A smile broke over Julia's face. “How did you get the antidote?"

  "I offered him a job."

  "A job?” Flynn's sharp voice caught the attention of those nearby.

  It was all he could do to stand still and explain that once in a blue moon delicacy worked better than a sledgehammer. “If you don't want him working for someone else, you better put him to work for us."

  For a split-second, Flynn just stared at him. Then he chuckled and shook his head. “Good work, Commander. Permission granted. Let's go."

  Johnny fell into step with them and as they passed Christian, the man yelled at Lawson. “Pas de deux, Lawson. Take care of her."

  He nodded at Christian and ran for the helo for all he was worth.

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  Chapter Forty-Eight

  Berlin Army Hospital

  For Zara, the hours moved like a mouse inside a snake, stopping and starting in fits. First came chills, then deep, aching pain in her hips and shoulders. Her lungs filled with liquid and she coughed violently for stretches at a time. Her nose bled.

  Inside the quarantined room with its white walls, white sheets and hard, linoleum floor, she shook and vomited and bled and cried. The worried faces of nurses and doctors peeked out of biohazard suits as they swarmed in and out of the room, checking her vitals every fifteen minutes and shooting her IV full of drugs.

  No one else was allowed in to see her. When the pain got bad enough and Zara was sure she would die, she told the nurse washing her face, “I thought I'd die by bullet or explosion. Something cool, you know? Guess the gossips at Langley will still have something to talk about."

  The woman nodded inside her face mask and hurried out of the room.

  The next nurse received a litany of orders from Zara. “Tell my mother Lucie can have all my clothes and shoes. Tell my dad I want all my trust fund donated to the South Side Dance Studio in the Bronx.” She hugged her stomach and rocked in the bed, trying hard not to whimper. “Tell Flynn there's a safe deposit box in a bank in Naples under the name Anna Zara Pavlova he should retrieve. And tell Lawson..."

  Tell Lawson what? What could she will to the man who had risked his own life more than once to save hers? She released a breath as the stomach cramp diminished. “Tell Lawson he was a good partner."

  At twelve-oh-six, she gave in to the whimpers and lost consciousness.

  When she woke, she was no longer in the white room. A window admitted bright sunlight. Framed pictures of painted houses decorated the wall next to her bed. Vases and baskets of flowers, balloons and cards covered every surface.

  "Welcome back,” a nurse in a colorful smock said as she pushed a cart into the room.

  "I'm alive?” Zara asked, wiggling her toes for good measure. Her stomach ached and her head felt heavy, but the clawing pain was gone.

  "Very much so.” The nurse moved to the bed and pushed a button, causing Zara's head to rise. “You're one very lucky gal. It was touch and go for the past couple of days, but the doctors are sure you're no longer contagious or at risk."

  She smiled to herself. “I'm alive."

  Over the next several hours, her family, including Lucie, came and went, filling her in on the details. Her mother brushed Zara's hair and Lucie applied makeup to Zara's face, a t
ruce having been struck between the two women who both loved her.

  Christian brought her a package. She opened it to find a new Prada jacket. “From Lawson,” he told her.

  Lawson. Where was Lawson?

  Director Flynn and his wife, Julia, were the last visitors the nurse would allow that day.

  "What am I going to do with you, Tango?” Flynn said, setting a basket on her bedside table. A bottle of Dom was surrounded with packages of Ding Dongs. He tossed a package at her. “You nearly ended my career as DO before I even got started."

  She fingered the package and set it on the blanket. “Where's Lawson?"

  Flynn and Julia exchanged a look. A look that made Zara's stomach ache again. “Never mind.” Tears burned behind her eyes. “I didn't really expect him to be here."

  Julia squeezed her arm. “He was here, Zara. He even stole a suit and snuck in here while you were unconscious. He held your hand all night and yelled at the nurses who tried to make him leave."

  Zara's stomach dipped again for a completely different reason. “Then why isn't he here?"

  "My fault,” Flynn said at Julia's raised brow. “We needed Pegasus in the field."

  "Oh."

  Flynn stared at her in silence, Julia again giving him a look and a get-to-it nod. He made a face at her and said to Zara, “You coming back to work for me?"

  Zara considered his offer. She was a damn good operative, whether she played by the rules or not, and being a spook was the only thing she wanted to do. “Yes, but next time I pick my own partner."

  Flynn held out his hand. “Deal."

  They shook.

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  Epilogue

  30,000 feet, Eastern Atlantic Ocean

  Ten days later

  Pegasus was finally going home. As the Learjet sped through clear skies away from the rising sun, Lawson looked out the window at the peach-colored clouds below and tried to relax. He'd been awake for the past forty-eight hours straight and he was mentally and physically exhausted. He'd earned every minute of the two-week leave Flynn and Stone had promised him.

  Settling a blanket over his tired body, he closed his eyes and thought of Zara. Her blue eyes and smiling mouth had invaded his every waking moment since he'd put her on the helicopter that whisked her away to Berlin.