Meltdown

by Gail Barrett

  “That’s it,” Zoe said. “That has to be the target.”

  Coop glanced up. She stared at the television, where people marched across the muted screen, waving placards and chanting—protesting the new nuclear power station scheduled to go online in Vegas in two more days.

  And suddenly, this murky case began to make sense.

  “The timing’s right. So is the location,” he said. An enormous mushroom cloud over Sin City—in plain world view—would make one hell of an impact.

  “Millions of people could die,” Zoe said, horror lacing her voice. “Even the President is supposed to attend. We have to stop them.”

  But how? They didn’t have proof of this theory, only assumptions. And they didn’t know who they could trust.

  “Speaking of which,” Rider said, checking his watch. “We need to head out. We have less than an hour until the rendezvous time, and we need to get into place.”

  Coop’s head jerked up. Second thoughts kicked loose inside him, a barrage of protests crowding his throat. He couldn’t let Zoe drop off that ransom. He couldn’t let her near that lethal group. He needed her out of the area—hell, out of the state! Even with Rider’s men supplying backup, too much could go drastically wrong.

  But they had to rescue Shaw before the terrorists killed him, and those men were expecting Zoe.

  He watched her rise and head to the door, flanked by Rider and White. And a sense of finality merged with the dread. She might despise him; she probably never wanted to see him again. And he couldn’t blame her for that. But he’d make sure this woman survived, or he would die trying.

  And then he’d watch her walk out of his life.

  Zoe stared out the passenger-side window at the darkened, two-lane highway, her head aching, everything inside her numb. She’d thought her grandfather’s deception had hurt, but Coop’s betrayal had thrust a death blow straight to her heart.

  She massaged the dull pain pulsing between her brows, feeling so utterly drained, so battered by conflicting emotions that she longed to curl up into a ball and shut down. In the past few hours she’d fluctuated from ecstasy and desire to shock and disbelief. Coop had used her to get to her grandfather. She’d played the fool for a man. Again. And while she’d woven fantasies about Coop, thinking about true love and forever after, he hadn’t been what he’d seemed.

  Weary, she rolled her head to the side and slid her gaze to Coop. He’d driven the miles across the desert without speaking, the muscles of his face like concrete, staring silently out at the road.

  It was just as well. She had nothing to say to him, nothing she could say.

  Struggling to quell the wild hurt welling inside, Zoe blinked back a hot rush of tears. She refused to cry or dwell on Coop now. She had to concentrate on rescuing her grandfather and keep those terrorists from creating that bomb. She’d think about Coop and his lies when that was done.

  “We’re here,” he announced.

  He exited the highway, and she straightened, her stomach prowling with nerves. She pressed her hand to her breastbone, panic thrumming inside her as her mind whirled back to their plan.

  Rider and his men would be waiting at the turnout. Coop would park the car they’d borrowed from Herrera and get into Rider’s SUV. The men would drive to the preserve and take up their positions around the farmhouse, while she waited at the turnout until the rendezvous time. Then, just before midnight, she’d head to the farmhouse alone.

  Coop pulled up to Rider’s SUV at the turnout. He idled the engine and set the brake. Then he looked at her, his eyes dark, the light from the dashboard illuminating the angles of his face. “Listen, Zoe…”

  She held up her hand to stop him. “Let’s just get this over with, all right?” She stepped out of the car and circled around to the driver’s side, keeping her gaze averted as he climbed out. Then she scooted past him, slid into the driver’s seat, and closed the door.

  But he bent down and leaned through the open window. And his familiar scent taunted her, his nearness making her heart flip-flop like a landed fish. She tightened her fingers on the wheel, trying to force her mind off Coop and away from the wrenching hurt.

  “Be careful.” His rough voice rumbled through her, and she nodded, refusing to look his way.

  He slapped the door with the palm of his hand and straightened, then climbed into Rider’s car. A second later, they drove away.

  The taillights grew smaller, the sound of the engine fainter, and then the SUV vanished in the night. A yawning sense of loneliness swept through her, and suddenly, she had the overwhelming urge to call Coop back, to pretend it was all a mistake, and launch herself into his arms.

  Fool.

  Hardening her heart, determined not to think about Coop, she waited at the turnout for ten torturous minutes, then drove toward the wildlife preserve. The tires drummed against the pavement. The full moon tinted the desert a ghostly gray. Far ahead on the highway she spotted a lone truck’s taillights, the only sign of humanity in the empty night.

  And the closer she got to the rendezvous point, the faster her pulse beat, the more her belly began to churn. She’d acted confident around the men and assured them she could carry this out, but now that she was in the desert alone…

  She inhaled the cool night air, laboring to conquer the fear. She didn’t need to worry. The men would protect her. Coop might have lied about everything else, but he’d rescued her multiple times. And she knew she could trust him to keep her safe.

  The sign for the wildlife preserve appeared on the highway. She slowed the car and turned onto a gravel road. She hunched over the wheel, her headlight beams penetrating the gloom as she crept along.

  A coyote slunk from the road into the sagebrush. She drove across a metal cattle guard, and the tires clattered in the deadly still night. Her thoughts skittered from Coop to the lethal terrorists, to that possible shipment of nuclear waste.

  She still didn’t believe her grandfather could be helping those terrorists. Maybe she was clinging naively to hope, but she couldn’t imagine him planning a bomb. Why would he? He didn’t need money, had no lofty, political ideals. He only cared about his work. And he never left the lab, never went abroad.

  Unlike the Navy people she knew. In spite of their frequent transfers, they couldn’t seem to travel enough, even during their vacation time. Just last month her boss at the lab, Captain Ruegg, had taken a military MAC flight to the Middle East…

  The headlights flashed on the entrance to the wildlife preserve, and she began to sweat. She pulled into the empty parking lot, then drove to the one-story visitor’s center at the end. She had to hike the final distance to the abandoned farmhouse on foot.

  Her hands trembling, she turned off the engine. She stepped out of the car, then leaned against it, letting her eyes adjust to the night. Her hands felt numb. The cool wind thrashed her bare legs.

  She patted the flash drive in her pocket, glad she’d deleted those files. But it shouldn’t matter. All she had to do was walk to the farmhouse. Coop and his friends would nab those terrorists before they could do any harm.

  She checked her watch. Five minutes to midnight. Steeling herself, she walked over and studied the map by the visitor’s center, then started down the deserted trail. The farmhouse was less than a mile away, just beyond some low hills.

  Silver moonlight coated the sagebrush. An owl hooted nearby, raising goose bumps on her skin. But she didn’t have far to go. And the men were already in place, hiding around the buildings. Nothing could possibly go wrong.

  Insects buzzed in the stillness. She passed a small shed, the soft dirt muffling her steps. She licked her lips, unable to swallow, so tense she couldn’t think. “Zoe.”

  She stopped, then glanced around, trying to hear over her thundering pulse. Who’d said that? Coop? One of the other men? She scanned the whitewashed landscape, but nothing moved in the night. Far in the distance, a coyote yipped.

  She waited, but nothing more happened. Figuring sh
e’d imagined the voice, she started walking again.

  “Zoe.” The voice was hoarse, but clear, and she couldn’t mistake it this time.

  Her grandfather. He was here!

  She whipped around and scanned the sheds scattered over the hill, her heart running amok. “Grandpa, where are you?” she called softly.

  And then she saw him—gesturing from beside the shed she’d passed. “Over here,” he rasped, motioning for her to come.

  She hurried back toward him, her head light with relief. He must have escaped his captors. She didn’t have to confront the terrorists alone. She rushed toward him, limping slightly on her still-tender ankle, anxious to whisk him away.

  But he shrank farther into the shadows, and a barrage of doubts slowed her steps. Why was he hiding? Were the terrorists close by? She stopped and searched the hills again, but nothing moved in the silver moonlight.

  “Grandpa, come on,” she said, keeping her voice low. “Let’s go.” She wasn’t supposed to leave the path. Coop’s friends had drilled that into her, insisting she stay in plain sight.

  “I need your help,” he called back, and she gnawed her lip. He had to be wounded. So what should she do? The longer she stood here and dithered, the more chance the terrorists would see them and shoot.

  She rushed up the hill to the shed. She caught a glimpse of his face, his eyes maniacal with fear.

  Something was terribly wrong.

  She abruptly stopped. Her lungs closed up, sudden terror echoing through her like a primeval scream.

  And then pain cleaved her skull and the world went black.

  Chapter 14

  “What do you mean she’s not there?” Coop stared at Rider through the moonlight, his voice rising, panic ravaging his self-control. “She was on her way to the ranch house. We had her covered. How the hell did she disappear?”

  Rider hitched his rifle over his shoulder and folded his arms. “Herrera heard a voice by one of the sheds. By the time he got there, she was gone.”

  Gone.

  Dread pitched and roiled inside him, raw terror blanking his mind. Because the thought of Zoe in the hands of The Third Crescent terrorists…

  He closed his eyes, unable to finish the thought, choked by a spasm of fear. This was his fault. He should have insisted on using a decoy. He shouldn’t have let her out of his sight.

  Because if the terrorists now had that flash drive, they didn’t need her alive.

  His face heating, he bunched his hands, the need to wreak violence raging inside. He wanted to rip the desert apart, murder any man who’d dared to touch Zoe.

  “They won’t kill her,” Rider said, as if guessing his thoughts. “Not until they’ve checked that flash drive and made sure the formula works. We’ve still got time.”

  Time. He labored to breathe. But how much?

  He had to find her. He couldn’t just stand here. He couldn’t let Zoe die.

  Herrera and White strode up and spoke to Rider, and then Rider turned to him. “Let’s go. White spotted their taillights. We’ll get your woman back.”

  His woman? He opened his mouth to protest, but realized it was true. Zoe was his woman. He loved her. He always had. Now he had to save her.

  And this time, he refused to fail.

  Zoe dragged herself back to consciousness, an agony of pain battering her skull, the nausea so strong she wanted to retch. Her arms ached with a prickly numbness. Her teeth clacked in the bone-chilling cold.

  She jerked open her eyes, her vision blurred in the shadowy darkness, and tried to move her arms—but they were tied behind her back. She strained against the binds, her shoulders wrenching from the effort, the tight cords slicing her wrists. A low light from a nearby room flashed in and out of focus, stinging her eyes.

  And memories came tumbling back—Coop’s betrayal, her grandfather’s deception, the nuclear bomb about to explode.

  She blinked rapidly to clear her fuzzy vision, trying to orient herself. She was in a cavernous, industrial-type warehouse. The building had a two-story ceiling, a loading dock still shrouded in darkness beyond an open bay door. And it was near a freeway, judging by the faint but steady drone of cars.

  Gritting her teeth to keep them from chattering, she cast a glance at the light quivering down a nearby hall. At the end of the hall she could make out a blurry exit sign.

  Then a low groan broke the quiet, and she rolled her head to the side. Her grandfather lay slumped against the wall several feet away, his eyes closed, his bushy white eyebrows gathered, his arms and legs bound like hers. A heavy growth of gray whiskers covered his face.

  Sympathy flooded through her, followed by a quick, hot surge of rage. Injured or not, this man had lied to her, stolen from her, entangled her in a deadly mess. Even worse, because of his selfish behavior, millions of innocent people could die.

  But she’d deal with his treachery later—after she got them out of here alive.

  “Grandpa,” she whispered. “Can you hear me?”

  He lolled his head sideways and opened his eyes. “Zoe?”

  “Are you all right?”

  “No, not really.” He coughed then, a deep, bronchial bark that made her cringe. Not only did his lungs sound bad, but the noise would alert whoever was down that hall.

  He wheezed again, then flashed her a scowl. “Why did you come? I wanted you to keep the flash drive safe.”

  The flash drive. Did she still have it? She twisted her bound hands, but couldn’t reach the pocket of her shorts. She rolled to her side, squirmed and writhed on the floor, ignoring the scrape of cold concrete. She finally managed to finger the pocket’s seam.

  The flash drive was gone.

  Horrified, she collapsed against the frigid concrete, appalled at what she’d done. But she forced back the dizzying panic and tried to stay calm. She’d deleted the most critical files. Without them, the terrorists couldn’t make that bomb. She just had to figure out how to escape before they realized what she’d done.

  She rolled and wriggled over to her grandfather, then managed to sit back up. “Did you make a copy of the flash drive?”

  His eyes turned sharp. “Don’t tell me you lost it.”

  She scowled back, refusing to feel any guilt. She’d suffered enough in this ordeal. “You’re the one who dragged me into this mess.”

  “But you don’t understand—”

  “Then explain it to me, Grandpa.” Her own temper flared and, suddenly, she’d had enough. “What’s going on here? How did you get mixed up with terrorists? And why did you steal my work?”

  “I didn’t—”

  “You did. You can’t deny it. I saw the files on that flash drive.”

  He jutted his chin, shifted his gaze. “It’s a long story.”

  She’d bet. She shot him a level stare. “We seem to have time.” At least until she got the blasted ropes off. She twisted her hands, ignoring the furious sting to her wrists, and struggled to reach the knots.

  Her grandfather didn’t speak, and that made her angrier yet. “I’m waiting,” she told him, her patience shot. “And I want the truth—all of it. Starting with why my parents died.”

  His scowl deepened, giving his face a mulish look. “That wasn’t supposed to happen. None of this was.”

  “Then why did it?”

  “Because I was being blackmailed.”

  She scoffed at that. “Blackmailed for what?”

  His eyes shifted away. “I was desperate. I…borrowed your mother’s work.”

  “Borrowed? You mean you stole it, the same way you stole mine.”

  He wheezed, setting off another round of coughs, then finally caught his breath. “I had to. My job was on the line. I hadn’t had a breakthrough in years. They were going to fire me and terminate my project. I’d worked too hard…and I knew I’d eventually succeed.”

  “So you committed a crime.” And he had the nerve to claim that this wasn’t his fault?

  “I had to,” he repeated. “No one else w
ould fund the project, and I couldn’t let it go. But then Peter Ruegg found out what I’d done and blackmailed me.”

  Peter Ruegg. The Navy captain who ran the lab. And suddenly, everything clicked. “He’s the traitor.” Of course he was. Ruegg had high-placed Navy contacts. He traveled the world. He’d even gone gambling in Dubai a few weeks back.

  And he’d had the gall to throw suspicion on her—ruining her professional reputation, putting her at risk of arrest—while he betrayed his country by selling that work.

  Her grandfather slumped against the wall. “He was a junior officer back then, but he had connections, and he was working his way up in rank. So we struck a deal—his silence about what I’d done in exchange for data he could sell. He liked to gamble, you see, and he had debts. But believe me, your parents weren’t supposed to die.”

  Believe him? After all his lies? She banked down another hot spurt of anger, forcing her voice to stay low. “So what happened?”

  “Your mother found out that I’d taken her work. She threatened to turn me in and report Ruegg.”

  Zoe blinked. Understanding dawned. The arguments between her parents she’d overheard.

  “We couldn’t risk letting them talk,” he added.

  Her heart shriveled, and any lingering hopes she’d harbored about her grandfather died. “So you murdered them.”

  “No, of course I didn’t kill them. It was Ruegg. Or someone he hired. I don’t know. But I couldn’t tell the police what I knew. Ruegg would have hurt you if I’d talked.”

  “And you would have lost your job.”

  He gave her the same stern look he’d always used to keep her in line. “I didn’t have a choice, Zoe. If I’d lost my position, I couldn’t have continued my research. I couldn’t get funding in a private lab.”

  She gaped at him. “And that meant so much?”

  “Of course.” He looked as if she’d lost her mind. “Besides, I controlled what data I passed to Ruegg. I didn’t compromise security much.”

  “Much.” Hysteria bubbled inside her. He’d endangered innocent lives, helped her parents’ murderer go free—all for glory, ambition, fame. And to think she’d defended him all those years.