Fight Fire With Fire.

by Amy J. Fetzer

  He inclined his head to the door a few feet away. “CIA physician just left. Gerardo pulled out all the stops.” And Ellie, he thought. A doctor had been waiting for them and now they had fresh clothes, phones, and food. The agent was amazing and he couldn’t wait to meet her.

  “He’s a good general.” She didn’t try to stand just yet and shifted in the corner of the bed. “What’s the damage?”

  Riley met her gaze and said, “First reports are seventy-four injured, twelve dead.”

  Safia let out a long breath and sank back into the mattress. “It could have been thousands,” she said.

  “David delayed long enough to get more people out of there. Odette is wise. She used another number and phone through a satellite hop.”

  She met his gaze. “I saw a child go in the Sorbonne a few minutes before the detonation. I think he’s using children to deliver the bombs.” Riley scowled. “I didn’t see it, but I think she’d arrived with Odette.” She shrugged, then rubbed her shoulder. “Since she had diplomatic papers, no one inspected the aircrafts. She’s changing methods.”

  “She knows she’s tailed then.”

  “Panicked bad guys will screw up.”

  “I doubt it.” He nodded to the end table and the printout waiting for her. “You need to read that. Beckham has Thibaut’s history.”

  She shifted, grabbed the report and read. Riley heard her sharp intake of air, then watched her finger slide over the page as she re-read sections. “He’s disgusting.” She looked up. “Adopted or whatever, that girl walked robotically into that building. This says we’re dealing with a sociopath with no remorse.”

  “Hell, I knew that,” Riley said. “But he should be dead from old age, and he’s not.”

  “Some people would kill for whatever he’s taking to stop the clock.” She accidentally elbowed him and when he flinched, she immediately pulled up his shirt. His ribs were purple.

  “Not broken.” Her gaze flicked up. “I swear.” She touched it a little harder to be certain and Riley chuckled to himself. “And they say the Irish are stubborn.”

  “The Egyptians took forty years to build the pyramids,” she reminded. “A useless marker in the middle of the desert. That’s persistence.” She grinned. “I hate the desert, by the way.”

  “I’ll remember that.”

  “What do we have?”

  “She’s going to his island. She knows she’s tailed now. The bomb went off.”

  “She’s just following orders,” Safia said. “We’ll never get on that island with approval, Gerardo said so. Thibaut’s too well-connected. He was at the president’s birthday celebration, for God sake.”

  “And you thought the president would say no when he learned Thibaut was a Nazi we harbored, probably still experimenting on children?” He flicked at the report that made him want to wash.

  “God, I can’t even think that demented to understand what he’d do next.” She stood, her balance waving for a moment. “And Odette helped him every step of the way. I want to shoot that Jimmy Choo knockoff-wearing bitch between the eyes!”

  “I didn’t think otherwise.”

  Her temper deflated a bit and she said, “Sorry. Sam okay?”

  He nodded. “He’s at the plane on the flight line. French military.”

  She crossed to the phone. “Their equipment is not up to date. I’m not handing control to those pansies.”

  He chuckled to himself. “Actually, it’s in our hands.”

  She looked up, about to dial. “Ours?”

  “Yours and Dragon One.”

  “God. How did you do that?” Giving over to civilians was not the norm.

  “Called in a big favor or two.”

  “Make it three. Ellie is the best shot in the Company and she can do it free falling a thousand feet per second. Besides, I want her in on this. I trust her.”

  “Satellite picked up Barasa’s jet still on the island too.”

  She smiled widened. “Where are we staging?”

  “Guam.”

  “Wish it was the Philippines,” she murmured, turning to the stack of clothes. “I could use a vacation.”

  “When it’s over, I’ll take you to Ireland.”

  She turned sharply. “You have family there.”

  “A lot, yes.” She shook her head, and he left the bed, prying a pair of jeans from her hands. “What frightens you so?”

  She tipped her head and met his gaze. “I don’t know. Family, people asking questions I can’t answer. Being near them threatens their lives.” She shrugged.

  “Or is it just me?” Riley waited, almost breathless.

  Safia tipped her head, her gaze sweeping his features. His dark hair held a little Irish red and she wanted to sink her fingers into it right now, take him into the next room and—“No,” she said. “You’re the only one who doesn’t scare me.”

  “But you keep running.” He jerked his hold on her. “Let me in, Safia.”

  “I have, more than you realize.” She stared at a spot on his chest, and felt something inside her melt away. A little smile coasted over her lips. “I’ve thought about you often over the years.” She lifted her gaze to his. “You don’t know how impressed I was that you went after Sam, alone. That was the worst fighting I’d seen yet, but there you were, so determined to save your friend.”

  “Reckless and dim-witted is more like it.”

  She waved that off. “It wasn’t the bravery, but what made you brave, Riley. A friend. Your boss, for that matter. If I’d died out there, I’d be a star on the wall and nothing more.” She tipped her head, folded her arms over her middle. “I was envious. Sam’s alive because you’re friends. For a long time I wished I’d jumped on that chopper with you.”

  “Dragon One is a team at its very roots.”

  She scoffed softly. “I know. Each one of you has an ax to grind with the D-oh-D, but here you are, doing the job you were meant to do all along.”

  “I can say the same about you.”

  “Oh I won’t deny that. I still have some axes of my own, but I give a damn and that’s what keeps me doing it. One life isn’t meaningless, but I’ve learned to move on, get the terrorist, then hunt the next. It’s not such a big cost to me, but I’ve seen too many lives destroyed by a death. Saving one father so he can love his child is always good enough reason.” She frowned, swiped at her cheek and was a little shocked to see tears. She laughed shortly to herself. “After my family was killed I cried for weeks,” she said suddenly. “I was numb and I don’t remember most of it till I left for college, but I was tired of crying and swore I wouldn’t do it again.” She shook her head, sanding her fingers until the tears dried.

  “Too much time alone, I’m thinking.”

  “It’s easy to be detached that way.” She looked up. “But you, your friends, this, it gave me the up close and personal reasons why every agent keeps fighting. Don’t look so sad,” she said, nudging him, then regretting it when he winced. “I chose the life. I knew what I’d get in return.”

  He smiled gently, a little amused. “I doubt it.”

  “I didn’t have some wild epiphany or anything, but—” her brow knit for a second, then smoothed—“Just a reminder of who I am, I think.” She patted the skin over her heart. “Here.” She searched his handsome face. “Thank you.”

  He brushed his mouth over hers, and said, “We’ve no debts between us, you and I. Only what’s right here.” He laid his palm over her heart, then pulled her deeper into his arms. He held her, rubbing her back in slow circles and for a second she wondered if it was for him, or for her.

  “You know,” he said. “I’ve liked a lot of women.” She smiled and he pushed her hair back, watching his moves. “But never once said I loved them.”

  She started to turn away from him, but he cupped her jaw and made her stay put. “I love you Safia Troy.” Her eyes teared. “I think I have since the moment I saw you and—” he shrugged a little—“I was just waiting for
you to come back so I’d remember.”

  She swallowed. Her heart pounded in her throat as she fought the instinct to run because she wanted this, wanted him.

  “I can love you. Like you’ve never been loved before—if you’ll just let me.”

  Tears fell and her lower lip trembled. Riley groaned softly.

  No one spoke to her like he did, so honest and simple. And Safia hoped. For this moment, she hoped for a future she couldn’t imagine, and the truth slid easily from her lips. “I love you too.”

  It was his turn to tremble. No cheeky smiles, no sexy innuendos, but a softening in his handsome features, the way he looked when he made love to her, and he lowered his head. His mouth was a breath from hers when he said, “Ahh, that’s my girl.”

  Then he kissed her. It was instantly different, slower, patient in commitment, and Safia felt the floor tilt and slipped her arms around his waist, then stepped into the warmth of his embrace. His hands rode down her arms before they wrapped her tightly, his mouth making a slow smooth ride over hers. Desire pulled at her, and pushed her hands under his shirt.

  She drew back enough to ask, “How long before we fly to Guam?”

  “Long enough.”

  The jet touched down, the jolt drawing her back to the moment. The instant the pilot let down the hatch, Odette left the aircraft, and strode across the darkened flight line to the man standing near the car. When she approached, his smile fell.

  “I’m sorry. I failed you.” She got into the car and waited impatiently for him to join her.

  “You’re upset.” He sat back, sliding off his hat and laying it on the seat between them.

  “Of course I am. Months of planning. We were so careful. I barely got out of France.” The French Secret Service caught her just before takeoff, but a call from someone, she didn’t know who, and the guards pulled back.

  “They knew it was you, then.”

  She snapped a look at him. “No, they knew it was Barasa. That’s how they found any link to us. I told you he wasn’t the proper choice.”

  “Then it’s my fault.”

  She scoffed and knew Haeger didn’t take blame for anything. Did he realize how close she came to being apprehended today? She never wanted to be that close to those men with guns again. She inhaled and let it out slowly, turning her face to the window. The headlights splashed across the vegetation, and she glimpsed movement in the jungle. She frowned, leaned closer.

  “The messengers were to place the devices without suspicion,” he said.

  “They still don’t know about them,” she said glumly. “But they are following us now, you know that.” She gestured to the ceiling, to the sky above.

  “And for that reason, I can set them off from here.”

  Her gaze snapped to his. “What about the Sorbonne? It went off too early. The text was sent, but the signal stopped. The girl wasn’t to respond for several hours.”

  “Perhaps she panicked.” He flicked a long boned hand. “Dismiss it and go on, my dear. It’s the only way to learn new discoveries. Leave the old ones behind.”

  “When then?”

  He tilted his head, looking thoughtful. “I know you’re as anxious as I, but we have the evening to decide and dinner is waiting for us. Your favorite, fresh scallops.”

  Odette smiled weakly. “Thank you. Will Barasa be joining us?”

  He shook his head. “Let him leave at first light and take his men with him. They have too much interest in the children.”

  She inhaled sharply. “They touched them? Who?”

  “Not yet, but you know behavior, it won’t be long before they do.”

  Odette’s gaze narrowed. The children didn’t go near any males. Thibaut kept them separated for just that reason. So why were they even near the guards? She looked at the black jungle again. The guards understood the retribution for touching one of his subjects. Death.

  “Don’t worry, my dear,” he said patting her hand, then squeezing, unaware of her thoughts. “We still have Jason and his wonderful laptop to do it for us.”

  “He’s another man that needs to leave our island.”

  His smile was sly and Odette wondered what he had planned for the scientist.

  Somewhere over Malaysia

  The flight from Paris to the South Pacific wasn’t so daunting in the Gulfstream jet when you had the comforts of a four-star general at your fingertips. Riley’d caught some shuteye on the first leg, but it was time to get busy on condensing reams of information. Riley studied the topography of the islands, the intelligence handled through Marianna Island post, and while Owen was good, he sort of missed Ellie’s voice. She was on her way to Guam, in charge of intelligence for the Op.

  In the first row of seats in the rear, Safia snacked on whatever she could find, and right now, it looked like microwave Chicken Marcella and bags of pretzels. In the rear, Sam snoozed, stretched out on four seats, his boots hanging over the edge, his hat covering his face. Logan was on Guam with Max, Viva and Jasmine at the Singapore hospital with Sebastian. Spec Ops was on their way to lend a hand.

  Safia’s web phone vibrated across the tray, and she didn’t stop eating or reading to answer it. “Send it to the jet,” she said after a moment, then closed the phone and left the chair. “There’s a message coming in. Base says it’s for you.”

  Riley frowned, withdrew his web phone, but it wasn’t signaling. She went to the computer and tapped the keys swiftly, then stepped back. “On your private number.” She glanced. “I didn’t know you had one.”

  “It’s for my family,” he said and experienced a quick, hard chill. “After months in the hospital, a direct line was the only way to keep them off my back. But no one’s used it in a year.” Riley turned on the stool, facing a larger screen. He expected a text message or voicemail, and blinked when a video popped up. Its clarity hit him in the chest. “Oh bugger me.”

  “Who’s that?”

  “My oldest sister. Bridget.”

  She laid a hand on his shoulder. “Oh Riley.”

  On the screen a man stood behind her, his head and neck covered in black cloth. Bridget was exposed, her clothing dirty, yet she appeared unharmed. The man grabbed a handful of deep red hair and pulled her head back. Bridget spat in his face. Riley smiled slightly. She was giving him hell. He didn’t wonder how the captor knew of her, but the threat was clear. Keep coming and he’d kill her.

  Sam moved up behind them. “Oh Christ, Riley. What can I do?”

  “Try to reach Travis on the ship. He wouldn’t let her go without a fight.” He must be going crazy, Riley thought. “Tell him to sail to Guam.”

  Sam turned away as Safia leaned in. “Rewind, please,” she said and Riley complied. She focused on the mask. “The fabric is moving. He’s talking. Turn up the volume.”

  He did and the voice was loud and clear through the speakers. “Continue your pursuit, and she dies. It’s that simple.”

  Bridget twisted against her captor. “Come blow his bleedin’ arse out of the ocean!” she shouted. Her captor struck her, knocking her head to the side so hard Riley heard her teeth click. Bridget worked her jaw, then said, “Oh your mum must be so proud of you, beating women like you do.”

  “I love her,” Safia said, then at the computer linking to Deep Six, she requested a trace. Ellie, Safia thought, would have done it without asking.

  On the video, the man made the mistake of moving a fraction closer and Bridget drove her elbow into his groin. But he anticipated and jerked back.

  His laugh made Safia’s heart skip a beat. “You almost killed me with that one.”

  Her phone slipped from her hand and she scrambled to catch it, then turned away. She paced, and when Riley started for her, she waved him back and stepped to the rear. Tucked against the bulkhead, she stared at the toes of her shoes and told herself it was her imagination. She was keyed up and grasping for information. Be sure. She went back to the computer and rewound the feed and then sat, not reall
y watching, but listening to the audio. She turned it up, and knew the second the hairs on her arm moved with a chill.

  “We have to get her back now.”

  “No question about that.”

  She met his gaze. “No, now. Remember my initiation, the prison?”

  He nodded, a tightness climbing over his skin.

  “I’d recognize that voice anywhere.” She pointed to the screen. “That’s my torturer.”

  Riley’s features pulled so tight he felt it. He looked at the hooded figure standing behind his sister. “Then he’s a CIA asset.”

  They’d been betrayed.

  No one slept. There was constant movement, people. Jason tried to investigate the island but each time, he was deterred by the adolescent population. He felt watched, and in such an isolated place, he wondered why. It wasn’t like he could fly a jet off the hunk of rock or swim, for crissake. A couple times the children crowded him and forced him in a new direction. Obedient little minions for Thibaut, he thought, walking slowly, questions rising constantly. What didn’t they want him to find? How did he control them; drugs, brainwashing? What was Thibaut hiding that he needed armed guards? There were only a few men, and while he noticed the guards didn’t even look at the children, how many visitors did Thibaut have here anyway? It was the lack of older children that bothered him. Odette mentioned the boarding school, but as a fan of the man, it was news to him, and considering the guy made certain any grand charitable gesture he made was in the papers, Jason went looking for proof. A quick search and a hack into some education networks, and Jason knew it was a lie.

  He walked toward the big house as he thought of Thibaut’s home on the northern tip of the island and as he approached the walkway, Odette stepped out, looking lovely and refreshed.

  “I didn’t know you’d returned,” Jason said.

  Her smile was oddly Cheshire. “You wanted to speak to Dr. Thibaut?”

  “You actually.” He inclined his head, and she descended the steps and strolled with him down the cobblestone walk. Overhead the sky darkened, the breeze quickening. It fit his mood. “There are no children of Thibaut’s at boarding schools, Odette. I looked.”