by Diana Miller
“I doubt anyone will believe such a far-fetched story without your corroboration,” Taurino said. “Even if they do, they’ll never find me. If necessary, I’ll have a little plastic surgery. Do we have a deal?”
“I just got here,” Ryan said through the radio. “I need a couple minutes to brief Mac and get into position.”
“You’ve got it.”
“I asked you if we have a deal,” Taurino said.
Paul flipped the intercom back on. “I’ve never been big on suicide missions.”
“It’s your fault that poor Dr. Rodgers is in trouble. Now you’re the only one who can save her.”
“Give me a minute.” Paul paced, studying the intricate design some gifted Iranian had woven into the cream and gold carpet. When he’d delayed as long as he’d dared, he activated the intercom. “Okay. Come inside the fence so we can work out the details.”
“I’d prefer to have you come out here,” Taurino said.
“So you can shoot me the instant I step outside? If you come inside, I can stay in the house and keep an eye on you until we’ve finalized our deal.”
“You’ll shoot me when I step inside the fence,” Taurino said. “I’m no fool either.”
“I give you my word as a gentleman I won’t,” Paul said. “As a show of good faith, I’ll be honest here. I won’t dare shoot you as long as you have Jillian.”
“Why the hell should I believe that?”
Paul took a deep breath, slowly let it out. This could make or break his plan. “Because the truth is she wasn’t just a bed partner. I fell in love with her. I’ve never been in love before, not even with my wife. I didn’t think I had it in me until I met Jillian.” His laugh was tinged with bitterness. “Isn’t that a kick in the ass? I finally fall in love, and the only way I can keep her alive is by giving up my own life.”
“You love her?” Taurino sounded as skeptical as a parole board member.
“Why else would I have risked spending time with her? I couldn’t help myself. It was one of those irrational things, practically love at first sight. That’s why I’m willing to surrender to you if I can guarantee she’ll be safe. It’s also why I won’t shoot you as long as you have her.”
Paul held his breath, waiting while Taurino either thought or discussed things with his cohorts. Mac was too busy to give updates from the monitor.
Finally Taurino spoke. “Open the gate.”
* * * *
The heavy, iron gate clicked. Sam pushed it open, and they all walked into the yard.
Jillian’s heart was hammering triple time. Taurino had the gun pressed against her neck and was holding her so awkwardly with his other hand over her mouth that they could easily tangle their feet and trip, and he’d accidentally shoot her.
She was even more terrified that any second the shooting would start in earnest, since this had to be part of Paul’s plan to kill Taurino. Paul had told her he’d never love her. He’d only claimed he did so Taurino would come inside where Paul could shoot him. But Paul couldn’t do that and also save her, not with Taurino holding a gun at her neck. With Ryan to confirm he’d done everything possible to keep her alive, Paul wouldn’t look bad when she died. Maybe he even thought she was in this with Taurino, that Jack’s and Martin’s concerns about her were justified. She hadn’t shot Sam like she was supposed to.
Taurino stopped walking about a quarter of the way to the house, beside a cluster of deep purple flowers Jillian had thought coolly elegant. Now they looked more like a funeral arrangement.
The front door of the house opened a crack. “I want him out of here.” Paul had to yell since they could no longer use the intercom.
“Who?” Taurino yelled back.
“Your bearded friend. He nearly killed me in D.C. I don’t want him here.”
“You want to better your odds.” Taurino pressed the gun harder into Jillian’s neck.
Fear raised bile in her throat.
“It’s still two against one, and you have Jillian,” Paul said. “Your friend should get your boat ready since my people will be here shortly. If you’re going to escape, you won’t have much time.”
“You’ve called for help?” Taurino asked. “Why tell me? Why not wait until they arrive before you come out?”
“Because I’m afraid when you spot them, you’ll kill Jillian.”
Taurino thought for a moment. “Go ready the boat. This won’t take much longer.”
The bearded man raced across the yard and out the gate.
“Your turn, Devlin,” Taurino said. “Throw down your gun and come out.”
“I have one more thing to tell you first,” Paul said. “Sam was sloppy. He didn’t kill Mac. In fact, Mac’s got a gun on you at this moment.”
“That’s a lie,” Sam yelled. “I killed him.”
Mac’s voice came from the cover of the thick bushes near the front of the house. “You should make sure the guy’s dead before you leave.”
Jillian’s hammering heart slowed slightly. Mac was alive, so now it was three against two. Maybe she’d get out of this alive.
The disgusted look Taurino aimed at Sam spoke volumes. “So you intend to have Mac shoot me the instant I release Dr. Rodgers.”
“No,” Paul answered through the crack. “What I intend is for Mac to safeguard Jillian. This is how it will play. I’ll throw out my gun, and Sam will throw down his. Then I’ll come out and walk toward you. If you shoot me before we make the trade, Mac will kill you. When I reach you, you’ll exchange me for Jillian, who will run to Mac.”
“Who will shoot me,” Taurino said matter-of-factly.
“Not when you’ve got your gun aimed at me, since it might go off reflexively and kill me,” Paul said. “Mac’s orders are to get Jillian safely to the house and to shoot only if someone goes after her. Do you hear that, Mac?”
“I hear you,” Mac said.
“How do we know Mac won’t shoot me?” Sam asked. “Since I’ll be standing there without a gun.”
“I guess it would be understandable after you shot him,” Paul said. “All I can do is tell him to follow my orders. In any event you’re safe, Taurino, since you’ll have me.”
“You’ve got a deal,” Taurino said. “Throw down your gun, Devlin.”
“I want you to come forward first so you’re closer to Mac. I want him to be able to get Jillian into the house fast. The back door’s unlocked, Mac.”
Taurino nodded, and he, Jillian, and Sam trudged forward. They stopped a few yards from Mac. The door opened a little wider, and Paul tossed his gun out. It bounced on the blacktopped driveway then ricocheted into the grass about fifty yards to Taurino’s right.
“Have Sam throw his gun down. Far enough away that he can’t lean down and grab it.” They were close enough that Paul could speak at normal volume.
“Throw down your gun,” Taurino ordered.
Sam looked at him then tossed his gun yards away.
“Okay, Devlin, it’s your turn,” Taurino said. “Put your hands up and walk out real slow. Now.”
Icy panic clogged Jillian’s throat and lungs. This had to be it, when Ryan, Mac, and Paul started shooting. She wasn’t going to survive this after all. At least the angle of Taurino’s gun against her neck guaranteed she’d die immediately.
The front door opened. Paul walked out, his hands raised.
Chapter 30
Paul strode toward Taurino, his bearing confident, his expression satisfied. As if everything were going exactly as he’d planned.
Which of course it was. Jillian’s breathing loosed, her fear lessening slightly. She wasn’t a guaranteed corpse. Paul had already made sure Mac and Ryan had one target each. He obviously had everything else planned, too. He’d never sacrifice himself knowing how much the government needed him, and if he’d planned to sacrifice her, he wouldn’t have come out of the house. Just because she couldn’t figure out how to save both of them didn’t mean
he hadn’t. Paul probably had Plans B, C, and D in reserve in case his Plan A was a bust. She needed to stay alert so she didn’t miss her cue.
Paul approached, his focus on Taurino. “I’d appreciate giving her a last kiss.”
Taurino tightened his grip on Jillian. “I don’t think so. I don’t trust you.”
“You’ll have a gun on her, and Sam can hold my wrists behind my back. Just one kiss.” Paul raised an eyebrow. “Think of it like a last cigarette before the firing squad.”
“All right,” Taurino said. “But only because as an Italian, I’m a hopeless romantic. Sam, secure Devlin.”
Sam grasped Paul’s wrists. Taurino removed his hand from Jillian’s mouth and wrapped his arm around her midriff. His gun was now aimed at Paul.
This kiss had to be part of Paul’s plan. Otherwise, it didn’t make sense. Jillian stood there silently, her gaze on Paul’s, waiting for some indication of what she was supposed to do.
“I love you.” Paul smiled ruefully. “Naturally everything’s clear now that it’s too late.”
He must hope talking would lull Taurino into loosening his hold. Then Paul would yank her away, giving Ryan a clear shot.
Taurino’s arm tightened around her.
Paul’s eyes were calm but charcoal, the shade they got when he loved her. “Please don’t forget me.” He lowered his lips to hers.
This had to be it, how he planned to escape. Jillian braced herself, waiting for something to happen.
Taurino jerked her away from Paul and returned the gun to Jillian’s neck. “That’s enough. I’m only half Italian.”
Paul’s eyes were still calm and dark, but there was something more there now. Resignation. Exactly the way he’d look if he were facing a firing squad.
Jillian’s chest hurt, grief squeezing her heart. Paul was trying to save her, but he was planning to die. He was going with Taurino unarmed, knowing full well once Taurino no longer needed a hostage, he was a dead man. Assuming Taurino didn’t shoot Paul right away, since he didn’t know about Ryan and was no doubt cocky enough to think he also could take out Mac. Paul intended to sacrifice himself because she was his responsibility, which was as ridiculous as thinking she should donate one of her own vital organs if an ER patient happened to need a transplant.
“Any more conditions Devlin?” Taurino asked.
“Keep your word.”
“I always keep my word,” Taurino said.
Paul might be resigned to playing the martyr, but she wasn’t. She’d be damned if she’d let him roll over and let Taurino win, this monster who’d killed Kristen, who’d tried to kill her, and who planned to kill the only man she’d ever truly loved.
“I’ll release her on the count of three. If you try anything, she dies. One.” Taurino’s arm and the gun loosened.
She’d bet Paul had ordered Ryan to hold off shooting Taurino until she was safe. Praying Ryan would catch on, Jillian jerked forward as hard as she could. She freed an elbow and jabbed it into Taurino. His gun went off. Then her head exploded.
She plummeted to the grass and lay there paralyzed, waiting for the initial shock to fade and the pain of her wound to register. Over her reverberating eardrums, she heard shots—one, then another, then more. She thought she heard other noises, voices, helicopters. It must be an audio mirage, if they existed. Or maybe she was dead and hearing angels’ wings, since she still didn’t feel any pain.
“Are you all right?” Ryan rested a hand on her back. She wasn’t dead.
Paul. She bolted up against Ryan’s arm. Paul was lying motionless on his back on the ground. Blood covered his left upper chest.
“Paul!” She ran over and kneeled beside him. “Can you hear me?”
His eyes flickered open. “I’m okay. How are you?”
“Fine. Any trouble breathing?” She ripped open his shirt, the buttons flying.
“From this flesh wound?”
Blood poured from a bullet hole just below his shoulder. The location didn’t appear that serious, but the bleeding might be. Jillian pulled off her T-shirt and gathered it into a thick ball.
“How is he?” Ryan asked.
“I’m good,” Paul said. “Thanks to you.”
“My pleasure,” Ryan said. “But it was thanks to Jillian. If she hadn’t moved when she did and knocked Taurino’s arm, his shot would have killed you. Jillian?”
“What?” She pressed her wadded T-shirt against Paul’s wound.
“How did you know Taurino was going to cheat and shoot Paul early?” Ryan asked.
“I didn’t. Ryan, press on this.” When Ryan’s hands had replaced hers, Jillian took Paul’s wrist and found his pulse. She looked at her watch, realizing belatedly she wasn’t wearing one. His pulse felt strong, maybe a little fast, but not racing dangerously.
Ryan chuckled. “If the sight of you in that bikini top hasn’t sped up his pulse, he’s hurt worse than he looks.”
Actually, Paul’s pulse was slower than hers was at the moment. Jillian dropped his wrist. “Do you hurt anywhere else? On your back?”
“Only my shoulder, which didn’t hurt much at all until Ryan pushed on it.”
“Sorry, but we have to stop the bleeding.” Jillian said. “Keep pressing, Ryan.”
Mac strode toward them. “Taurino and Sam are both dead. Unlike Sam, I’m thorough about making sure.”
“How’s your wound?” Paul asked.
Jillian stood. “Let me check it.” Paul didn’t seem to need her help, and she was having trouble sitting still.
“Don’t bother,” Mac said. “I can barely feel it.”
“That won’t last,” Paul said. “As long as the adrenaline’s flowing, why don’t you go meet the copters. Help them locate Harry and get some help for yourself.”
“There are helicopters?” Jillian knelt down again, moved Ryan’s hands away, and carefully lifted the T-shirt. The bleeding had slowed.
“Behind the house. With probably a hospitalful of supplies and enough blood to transfuse everyone on the island, if I know Martin.” Ryan resumed pressing on the shirt while Jillian checked Paul’s pulse again.
“You waited,” Paul said.
“Until she hit the ground,” Ryan answered.
“So I don’t have to kill you. Good.”
“It was your call,” Ryan said. “Don’t make me sorry by dying on me.”
She’d been right. Paul had planned to let Taurino kill him to save her. At the moment, she couldn’t seem to work up any righteous anger about it. She was so happy to see Paul alive and know medical help was nearly here. She dropped his wrist then stroked his cheek, his lips. He smiled up at her.
Ryan cleared his throat. “If you’ll take over T-shirt duty, Jillian, I’ll make sure Mac didn’t collapse before he got to the copters.”
“Good idea,” Paul said.
The instant Ryan was gone, Paul clasped his hand around Jillian’s wrist. “What the hell were you doing moving like that? Taurino could have killed you.”
Her temper flared, and she narrowed her eyes at him. “It seemed like the right thing to do. Obviously it was.”
“You didn’t know that. You were risking your life—”
“But I didn’t die, so you don’t have to feel guilty. You also didn’t fail your assignment to protect me.”
“You think that’s what I care about?” Paul closed his eyes and let out a breath.
She rested her palm on his forehead. Not febrile or clammy, thank God.
He opened his eyes again. “I’m sorry, but when I think about what might have happened to you…”
She removed the wadded T-shirt and inspected his wound once more. The bleeding had slowed to an ooze.
“I love you,” Paul said.
She replaced the wadded cloth. “Don’t talk. You need to save your strength.”
“I need to say this now,” Paul said. “What I told Taurino. I wasn’t lying. I really do love you
.”
“Quiet.” She pressed her fingers over his lips.
He pushed her fingers away. “I’ll be quiet on one condition. You promise we’ll discuss this on a sailboat off the coast of Italy. As soon as I get out of the hospital.”
“You need—”
“If you won’t promise to go sailing with me, I won’t shut up. What kind of doctor are you to jeopardize my recovery like that?”
“Okay, I promise I’ll go sailing if you’ll be quiet,” Jillian said.
Paul reached up, pulled her head down, and kissed her, his lips and tongue caressing her mouth. Medically it probably wasn’t a good idea, but Jillian couldn’t make herself break away. When he finally released her, she tried to glare at him. “You’re supposed to be quiet.”
He grinned. “I did that quietly. I’ll demonstrate again how quiet I can be.”
He raised his hand but she dodged it. “Later.” She felt the pulse on his neck. Faster, but still strong.
Two men carrying a stretcher raced toward them.
“We’ll take over now,” one man said as the other checked Paul’s vitals.
“He has a gunshot wound to the left shoulder,” Jillian said. “The bullet’s still inside. I slowed the bleeding, but he lost quite a bit—”
“We’ve got this. Wait over there.” The two men expertly moved Paul onto the stretcher.
“I’m a doctor. I can help.”
“You can’t. Government policy.”
“I’ll be fine,” Paul said. “Ryan, take care of her.”
She hadn’t even noticed Ryan’s return. He slipped an arm around her shoulders as the men lifted the stretcher and carried it across the grass. Jillian and Ryan followed them to a pair of whirring helicopters on the expansive lawn behind the house, to the left of the office. The medics took Paul into the larger one. She tried to follow, but another man stopped her. “Sorry. Only injured people in this one. You and Ryan have to take the other copter.”
It was probably another one of those non-negotiable government policies. Resigned, Jillian stepped away.
“You’ll be more comfortable in mine anyway,” a familiar voice murmured in her ear.
“Billy!” She whirled and hugged him. Even though she’d only met him once, circumstances made him feel like a good friend.