Jose shrugged and took a sip. “It’s good tequila. You should take a shot, too. What you have to do is not pretty, my friend.”
Gage wiped the bottle with the hem of his shirt and took a swig.
Then Randi took one more drink.
“Are you ready?”
She nodded once and her chin drooped to her chest as she slurred her answer. “Less do this.”
Gage guided her to the ground and removed her jacket. He shrugged out of his own, peeled off his shirt and ripped it into strips.
Then he dumped the tequila over the knife, his hands and Randi’s arm.
Jose took another sip and then doused his own hands with the tequila. He crouched beside them and held Randi’s arm out straight.
Gage smoothed his finger against her inner elbow and felt the small lump beneath her skin. He pulled the flesh tight and nicked it with the tip of the blade.
A bead of blood dotted Randi’s arm.
Gage took a deep breath and plunged into her flesh. He probed and circled until he felt the edge of the chip.
Randi murmured only once. Otherwise, she kept still while he ripped a hole in her skin.
Finally, Gage pulled the knife free, balancing a small chip on its edge. “I got it.”
He dropped the knife and tucked the chip into the front pocket of his jeans.
Jose drenched the wound with more alcohol and held the bottle to Randi’s lips while Gage wrapped up her arm.
With a piece of his T-shirt tied firmly around her elbow, Gage hooked his arms beneath hers to help her to her feet. She staggered against him.
Jose wiped off his knife and tucked it away. He held out his hand, palm up. “Let me have the chip, and we will have some fun with your friends, verdad?”
Gage felt in his pocket and pinched the chip between his fingers. He dropped it into Jose’s hand. “Thanks for everything...my friend.”
Jose winked and gestured toward Randi, now swaying and hanging on to Gage. “Thank me later when you get lucky.”
They split up then, taking different routes away from the tunnel and the dead man inside.
The nightclubs and bars of Viejo Casco discharged several people in the same condition as Randi. A man making his way down the street with a stumbling drunk at his side didn’t even cause a raised eyebrow.
“It’s out?” Randi repeated the question for about the hundredth time since they’d left the tunnel.
“Yeah, it’s out. Don’t worry. You’re safe now.”
“Always safe with Gage. Don’t leave. Don’t ever leave.”
Pulling her close, he kissed her temple beneath her other wound, the one that stole her memory. “I’m not going anywhere, Randi.”
He snagged a taxi back to the hotel, where he promptly checked out. Jessup could’ve already had them tracked to the hotel and just waited until they left before ordering his flunky to make a move on Randi.
They took a taxi to another hotel, this one closer to the airport, and checked in for one night. The hotel clerk gave Gage a knowing look.
Seemed everyone thought he was going to get lucky tonight with Randi.
They got to the room, and Randi crashed diagonally across the bed—the only bed in the room.
A little blood stained her shirt and her clothes reeked of tequila. The moss and slime from the tunnel clung to her damp jeans. She couldn’t go to bed like that.
He perched on the edge of the mattress. “Can you sit up, Randi? Let’s get these dirty clothes off.”
“Take clothes off.” She squirmed to a sitting position, her back against the headboard.
She tried to unbutton her shirt, but her clumsy fingers couldn’t handle the task.
Gage undid the buttons and slipped the shirt off her shoulders. He left her the white, lacy T-shirt beneath, which outlined her perfect breasts. He pulled off her shoes and unzipped her jeans. He tugged at the pants and she tilted up her pelvis.
Swallowing hard, he yanked the jeans from her hips and pulled them off her legs. He dug in her bag for the nightgown she’d worn earlier this afternoon but gave up trying to pull it over her head.
He rolled her to the side and pulled down the covers on the bed. “Crawl under the covers, Randi. Sleep it off. You’ll be okay in the morning.”
She scooted toward the exposed sheet, and then Gage wrapped his arms around her and lifted her a few inches from the mattress to tuck her under the covers.
She moaned when her head hit the pillow, and Gage brushed the hair from her face.
“Shh.” He kissed her cheek. Then he kissed her tequila lips.
He already lost his shirt tonight, so he pulled off his jeans and lay beside Randi, on top of the covers, in his underwear.
Then he couldn’t help himself. He shifted closer and hung one arm around her waist while he buried his face against her neck. Even snockered and stinking of booze, she drew him to her like no woman ever had before.
He had to get a grip. Zendaris’s woman could never belong to him. Never.
* * *
SOMEONE HAD STUFFED her mouth with cotton and was beating on the back of her head with a pool cue.
Groaning, Randi rolled to her back and her hand made contact with Gage’s bare chest. She opened one eye and immediately shut it against the light that made her head ache.
Her arm throbbed and she plucked at the strip of cloth wrapped around it—Gage’s T-shirt. She was a mess, but she’d remembered something last night when Jose shot the attacker.
The sound of the gunfire had brought back those last minutes before she’d been shot on the balcony of Zendaris’s palatial home.
She scooted up until her back rested against the headboard. The covers had fallen from her shoulders, and she crossed her arms over her skimpy camisole. At least Gage had left her partially clothed in her underwear. Probably playing the role of the gentleman. It’s not like he hadn’t seen her naked body before.
She dropped her gaze to his body, clad in a pair of dark blue briefs. He hadn’t even gotten under the blanket. Maybe he didn’t trust himself with her.
He clasped her calf through the blanket and she jumped. “I didn’t mean to scare you. How are you feeling?”
She ran her tongue along the inside of her mouth while yanking the sheet up to her chin. “About how you’d expect someone to feel who’d downed a half bottle of tequila the night before.”
“Your arm?”
“Hurts.”
“We need to get back to the States today.” He slid from the bed and grabbed his jeans from the back of the chair.
“We’re flying out today?” She tried to keep her eyes on his face as he buttoned his fly, and did a pretty good job, considering.
“If we can get a flight into Houston.”
“Do you think they might be here? Will they stake out the airport?”
“Not if Jose has anything to say about it. Knowing him, the chip that was in your arm is probably on its way to another country or out to sea on a boat.”
She peeked beneath the makeshift bandage. “That’s going to leave a scar.”
“Make sure you clean it well when you’re in the shower. I still have some bandages and antibiotic cream in the first-aid kit. I’ll dress it when you get out.”
She planted her feet on the floor and swayed to the side. “I still feel woozy. And sick.”
“We’ll get some breakfast and some of that strong Panamanian coffee. Down a couple of ibuprofen while you’re at it.”
“At the airport?”
“The sooner we get out of here, the better.”
Two hours later, they slumped in matching plastic chairs at the Tocumen International Airport. Randi sipped her second cup of coffee of the day and people-watched over the rim.
She hadn’t told Gage what she’d remembered last night during the shooting. He’d been distracted all morning with their arrangements. Now they finally had a chance to breathe.
Randi placed her coffee beneath her seat. “Gage, I remembered som
ething last night.”
“You did?” He dropped his magazine on his lap and it slipped to the floor.
“It was the gunshot. It brought back the shooting on the balcony of Zendaris’s house.”
“Why didn’t you tell me this before?”
“There didn’t seem like any good time this morning.”
“What did you remember?” Not one muscle in his face moved even the slightest bit.
“I remember a man, a big man with a gun pointed at me. I backed up onto the balcony. And there were kids. There were kids in the room screaming.”
His Adam’s apple bobbed as he stroked her arm. “Were they yours?”
“No.”
“You sound sure. Is that something you remembered?”
“It’s not a feeling or emotion I remembered. It’s what they were screaming.”
“What were they screaming?”
“Mademoiselle. They were screaming mademoiselle.”
“You’re not French.... Are you?”
“I don’t think so, but, Gage...”
“What?”
“I speak French.”
Squeezing his eyes shut, he pinched the bridge of his nose. “You speak French.”
“Yes.”
“This is so crazy.”
“This is crazy? After all the stuff that has happened to me in the past three days, speaking French is crazy?”
“I know nothing about amnesia, Randi.” He passed a hand over his face. “It’s so weird that you can remember languages but can’t remember your identity.”
“If you expect me to explain it to you, you’re out of luck.”
He swept the magazine from the floor and dropped it onto the small table between their chairs. “Why would the kids be calling you mademoiselle?”
“Maybe—” she worried the edge of the bandage on her arm with her fingernail “—I was their nanny or something.”
“You forgot about the picture at the airport. If you were a nanny in that household, you were Zendaris’s nanny, too.”
Heat prickled her skin. “That’s not me in the picture. All you have is a tall woman with long, dark hair.” She swiveled her head around the airport lounge, trailing her fingers across the crowds of people. “It could be several women right here.”
“The scarf. You had the same pink scarf.”
“I’m sure we could find a few pink scarves in this airport if we looked. It’s a coincidence.”
“Helluva coincidence.” He blew out a noisy breath and took her hand in his. “I know you don’t want to believe you could be associated with a man like Zendaris, but you don’t have to be when this is all over. You can make a fresh start, make different decisions.”
She left her hand in his, but turned away, her vision blurred by tears. He just didn’t want to believe her.
The loudspeaker announced their flight to Houston, and Randi dashed a hand across her face and slipped the strap of her new handbag over her shoulder. “It’s time.”
As she stood up, her face still averted from Gage, a familiar face emerged from the crowd swarming toward the departure gates. She rubbed her eyes, but he was still there.
“Gage.”
“Yeah?” He was pulling his boarding pass from his backpack.
“It’s Jose.”
Gage spun around. “Where?”
“Isn’t that him?”
Gage tensed beside her. “Something’s wrong. Look at his face.”
The man’s features were twisted and he seemed to be limping.
Gage moved toward him and Randi followed, her heart pounding in time to her footsteps on the linoleum.
As Jose extended his hand, he flashed his customary smile, but it didn’t reach his eyes. “My friend. Good to see you.”
Gage grabbed his hand and Jose fell against his chest. He rasped, “Get out. Hurry. Get on that plane now. They’re coming for you.”
Chapter Eleven
Something wet and sticky seeped against Gage’s shirt as Jose sagged against him. “Who is it, Jose? Did they track you with the GPS?”
Jose’s lips twisted into a grim smile and he coughed. “No, my friend. The people who implanted that chip in Randi are on a—como se dice?—wild-goose chase.”
“Zendaris? Is it Zendaris’s people? What did they do to you?”
Jose shoved off Gage and made a valiant effort to stand on his own two feet. “Get on the plane. They want what belongs to them. They want the señorita.”
Randi gasped.
Gage’s eyes darted around the airport. Zipping his jacket over the blood stain on his shirt, he strode toward a wheelchair parked outside a shop. He grasped the handles and wheeled it back to Jose, who was now leaning against Randi, who had her arm around his shoulders.
Gage nudged the back of Randi’s knees with the chair. “Sit. Let’s go.”
“B-but Jose.”
“He’ll be okay. We need to get on that plane.”
“He’s right.” Jose ducked from beneath Randi’s arm. “Go. Rápido.”
Randi sank into the chair, and Gage gave his friend a salute as he pushed the wheelchair to the boarding gate. “I’m sorry. We missed the special boarding. My wife is injured.”
The line parted for them and Gage thrust their boarding passes at the agent. Then he turned and pointed to Jose. “I think that man needs assistance.”
“Thank you, sir.” The agent picked up her radio.
Gage paused by the boarding tunnel. Two airport employees approached Jose, who was now propped up against a wall.
He narrowed his eyes. Two men in dark sunglasses were pushing their way through the crowd of people.
Gage turned and hunched over Randi in the wheelchair. The men wouldn’t have any problem figuring out which flight he and Randi had taken, but he just hoped those remaining stand-by seats had been snapped up by other travelers by now.
He wheeled Randi along the ramp until they got to the hatch of the airplane.
The stewardess smiled a welcome. “Does your wife need assistance to her seat, sir?”
“No, thank you.”
For her part, Randi rose from the chair slowly and leaned heavily against Gage. He kept her in front of him as they maneuvered down the aisle toward their seats.
Should he tell her he’d seen Zendaris’s men in the airport, almost at the gate? He watched her drop to her seat and close her eyes and decided against it.
What good would it do? Either those two would make it on the plane or they wouldn’t. If they didn’t, he didn’t want to worry her.
He sat beside her and buckled his seat belt.
Without opening her eyes, she said, “Is Jose going to be okay?”
“I think he had a stab wound.”
Randi sucked in a sharp breath.
“He’s lost a lot of blood, but if he gets to the hospital right now he should be fine.”
“How did they find him? How did they know?”
“It’s what Jose does, Randi. He’s an informant. He’s a wheeler and dealer. Zendaris would make it his business to know the black-market scene in Panama once he tracked us here.”
“But how did he track us here?”
Gage lifted one shoulder. “We have our informants. They have theirs. The CIA could’ve even tipped him off.”
“Great.” She grabbed a pillow from beneath her seat and scrunched it under her head. “Now we have two sets of bad guys after us. Where are all the good guys?”
Sitting right next to you.
He kept his mouth shut and pulled out his magazine. She obviously didn’t think he was a good guy because he doubted her memories about her position in Zendaris’s household.
He really wanted to believe she was a nanny instead of a mistress. Or did he? The knowledge that Randi was Zendaris’s lover was the only thing holding him back from doing something totally unprofessional.
Making mad, passionate love to a witness...a witness who couldn’t remember a thing.
* * *
THE PLANE TOUCHED DOWN, and Randi opened her eyes, though she’d been awake for the past hour. She hadn’t wanted to get into it with Gage again. She’d just have to regain her memories to prove to him that she and Zendaris weren’t an item.
Then what? Did she expect him to open his arms to her?
“Did you sleep?” She stretched her arms over her head.
“Not much. Did you dream?”
“I don’t think it’s going to work that way, Gage.” She pulled her handbag from under the seat in front of her and unzipped it. “I don’t think my entire life is going to come back to me in a dream.”
“No more children calling you mademoiselle?”
“That—” she smeared her lips with Chapstick and then smacked them together “—wasn’t a dream. That was a real memory. Jose’s gun brought it back.”
“Maybe being in Texas will bring back some memories, too. If not, I have someone on the way who will be able to help.”
“I hope he’s good, this psychiatrist of yours.”
“She.” Gage unsnapped his seat belt and stood up to retrieve his backpack from the overhead. “The psychiatrist is a woman.”
Randi swallowed. His wife? Girlfriend? She must be a very special friend if she planned to fly into Texas from wherever to treat someone on the sly. “Another woman psychiatrist? I don’t think I can handle another Dr. Murdoch.”
“Elle is as different from Dr. Murdoch as day is from night.”
Elle? Oh yeah, this was a special friend.
Randi’s knees didn’t stop quaking until they’d gotten through customs. Jose was good. Their papers passed with flying colors.
Her stomach flipped at the thought of Jose. Was he in the hospital now? Was he alive?
They landed on the sidewalk with their bags, and Randi turned to Gage. “Where to now?”
“I’m going to rent a car with my new ID. No more hitchhiking, buses and customs agents.”
“I didn’t mean our mode of transportation. Where are we headed?”
“I’m going to buy a laptop first, and then we’ll find a hotel where we can settle in and do a little research.”
“Do you think you’re going to find me on the internet?”
“We have a few leads.”
“And Prospero?”
“I’ll contact them...later.”
Trap, Secure: Navy SEAL Security Page 13