Special Ops Rendezvous

by Karen Anders

  She went to him and wrapped her arms around him. She knew what this was doing to him, because he cared deeply about people, but she knew that he was more tortured because it was her.

  She had told him she trusted him with her life, and she still did. “You came through, Sam. That’s all that matters.”

  “We’re lucky he’s alive. I could have killed them both.”

  Sam was in pain. It was all over his face, in the way he was holding himself. There wasn’t anything Olivia could do, because Sam was so good at beating himself up. God, he needed help. He needed it so bad and she was a really poor substitute for her brother.

  She was starting to get really worried about him; he looked even worse. His skin had gone pale and his breathing was still shallow as though he couldn’t catch his breath.

  “I’m having a hard time...focusing right now. I’m losing it.”

  “What?” Panic clawed up her gut, making her feel even more edgy.

  His arms loosened from around her. His chest heaving as he started to slide.

  “Sam!”

  But there was nothing she could do as he simply dropped down the door until he hit the floor.

  “I’m sorry. Everything is such a mess in my head. Sometimes, with you, I think I have it all sorted out, but then it all goes to hell again. Like now. I’m just screwed up.”

  “I’m going to help you,” she said as if she knew what she was doing, as if she could clear everything up through sheer force.

  He shook his head, as if he didn’t quite believe anything was going to help.

  “I don’t know, babe. I don’t know what I gave them. It could have been everything. I could have answered every question they asked. I don’t know what they did to me. What I’m capable of now. I don’t trust myself. I warned you this could happen. I told you that you couldn’t trust me. I can’t even trust myself. I—I need...” His voice trailed off.

  “Sam, tell me what to do.”

  He was looking at her so intently, his gaze so confused, as if he couldn’t quite get her into focus, but whatever he was trying to say, it was damn important to him, important enough for her to give him another couple of seconds, even though they had some crazy, professional killer/operative sitting in her brother’s office where that operative probably had killed him. Time was running out for them.

  “What?” she whispered when he didn’t continue.

  A frustrated sigh left him, followed by a muttered curse.

  “Zip-tie me. I can’t... Just do it.”

  “What are you saying?”

  “Do it, Olivia! I don’t know what I’ll do. Just do it to be safe.”

  Oh, God, he was having a massive episode set off by the stress of the situation they were in and he wasn’t fully healed, not mentally and just barely physically.

  She thought fleetingly of calling his brother Thad but discounted it. If she did, they wouldn’t get any answers.

  “No!”

  “You promised you would do everything I said! Do it!” he said in a voice so cold Olivia felt the hair on the back of her neck stand up.

  She didn’t say a word for a full tension-filled minute. She had promised him, but the thought of binding Sam as if he were the enemy made everything rebel in her.

  Then his eyes, his beautiful blue eyes glazed over and he started mumbling, “I’m not breaking. I’m not breaking!” his voice splintering, his breathing jagged. “You can’t break me,” he said low, then louder. “You’re not breaking me!”

  Tears filled her eyes as she searched around in his pocket and found the zip ties. He grabbed her wrist and looked at her as if he didn’t know her. For one split second she was terrified. Sam was dangerous. Sam was lethal and right now he didn’t know who she was. She could see it in his angry, frantic eyes.

  Shaking, she pulled the gun out and pointed it at him. “Put your hands behind your back.”

  He stared at her, then at the gun and then he collapsed. Went out like a light and lay still.

  Tears streamed down her face as she slipped the zip cuffs around his wrists, then sobbed as she took his gun and backed away.

  She had no illusions here. Sam was on his own, and she by association was, as well. Because she’d made the decision to stick by him. She didn’t regret that. Not one bit. But what they had done was so illegal she didn’t even want to think about the laws she’d broken tonight.

  But they’d had no choice. They were desperate to get her. That was clear and the hypodermics said that they wanted her alive. Which meant to her that they wanted to question her. About Sam. About what she knew and about what he might have told. They probably wanted to know that more than anything right now.

  She looked at his prone body, then at the closed door. From somewhere deep inside her she found the courage to stop the tears. They were making her lose focus.

  She had to stay calm. Sam would come out of this. He had to.

  She needed him.

  * * *

  His wrists ached, he was shivering with cold and he was so, so thirsty his lips were crusted and dry. Even his tongue barely moistened them. His shoulders throbbed. Agony screamed across his back and he jerked at the pain, gritting his teeth. How long? How long had he been here?

  “Is that all you’ve got?” he said as the lash landed even harder. “You won’t break me!” he screamed. He shivered uncontrollably, his empty stomach protesting.

  But he wasn’t so sure they weren’t close. He was shuffling between delirium and such clarity of mind it almost hurt.

  When he raised his head everyone in the room looked so familiar that he was close in identifying them, but then the knowledge would slip out of his mind like water running off a roof.

  Finally they cut him down and dragged him away. Threw him into a cell. He brought his hand up and wiped it across his mouth. The cramped cell in the cold rocky earth was the only thing that cradled his bleeding body, his spirit hanging by a thread.

  The guy next to him was continually screaming as if he were being flayed from the inside out. The grating noise scraped his own nerves raw. As if his mind had just broken and he couldn’t stop screaming. His voice was hoarse, but it was still audible. He prayed every day it wasn’t Mike. Because if they got Mike to scream like that, Sam didn’t have a chance of holding out.

  The filth, the smell, the shackles, that was his only reality. That and the excruciating pain.

  It was as dark in that place as the depth of hell without the fires. He shook and shivered with the cold—so cold. But then there was the white and the bright light, that room they took him to, and it hurt to even think it. How bright that place had been, the light almost blue, searing his brain and making time stop.

  There had been nothing to hold on to in that place, no foothold for reality, and maybe there hadn’t been any reality at all. Maybe the white place had been a drug-induced hallucination.

  Because there had been drugs. God only knew what.

  And he was afraid that was where they finally broke him and that was where he’d picked up the blackouts and the lost time and the memory loss. That was where they took what was left of him and...and...what? What did they do? What did they want? What did they take?

  And in that white place was suddenly filled with color that burst and danced in such a beautiful way he was mesmerized by it.

  There was golden brown...no, caramel and chocolate-brown, soft white skin and sensual pink lips and curves that went on for days. He held on to that vision until he blinked and then blinked again and she came into focus.

  “Olivia.”

  “Sam.” She was lying down next to him, her head propped on her arm. Both weapons within easy reach. She’d been crying. The tracks were on her face, and something cool and dry was against the back of his neck and across his forehead. Terry clo
th towels with ice nestled inside.

  He went to move and he couldn’t. He realized she’d zip-cuffed him and his confusion was probably clear in his eyes when he looked up at her.

  “You told me to.”

  “Shit!” His heart jerked hard and went into his throat. “Did I hurt you?” he said, trying hard not to sound even half as panicked as he felt.

  She set the towel down and scooted forward and wrapped her arms around him, pressing her hot face against his. His heart tumbled over and over. He closed his eyes as something he’d never felt in his life consumed him.

  He couldn’t do this. He couldn’t feel this way about her and function.

  His tough, vulnerable, direct sweetheart.

  “Are you back? Are you okay?” Her voice was clogged with emotion and he could only feel relief broadcasting loud and clear that she cared about him, too.

  “I’m back. I don’t know what happened.”

  She clung to him tighter. “You had a massive blackout and you told me to cuff you. Then you looked at me like you didn’t know me. Then you collapsed. You’ve been out of it for four hours and mumbling and then you started yelling really loud.”

  “I’m so sorry. Cut me loose, babe.”

  With just a slight pause and a little apprehension in her eyes, she pushed away from him and reached down and pulled a wicked knife out of her boot. His eyebrows rose and she just gave him a don’t-mess-with-me-now-while-I-have-a-knife look.

  He kept his mouth firmly closed.

  As soon as his hands were free, he sat up. “Come here,” he said, and pulled her across his lap. He was a U.S. Army Ranger and he didn’t remember anywhere in the regs where he could haul his teammate across his lap and kiss her like there was no tomorrow.

  Nope, not once had he done that in all of his military service.

  But he did this time, hauled her to him and kissed and breathed her in.

  “I have money, a lot of it, Olivia. I can put you on a plane and get you out of here now. Hide you away for a long time. Go to the airport right now and get you away from here.”

  She sighed. “I knew that as soon as you came out of whatever it was you were in, you were going to say that.”

  “I’m serious.”

  “I know you are, Sam, and so am I! I’m not leaving you. But when this is all over and since you’re such a rich guy, you can take me to dinner.”

  He pressed his face against her hair and laughed. “What am I going to do with you?”

  “I have a few suggestions.”

  He laughed again. Unbelievable. “What if I order you?”

  “You’re not the boss of me.” She pulled away from him so that she could make eye contact. “I’m not going to say this again. This is the last time. I couldn’t live with myself if I abandoned you now, knowing the challenges you have. I won’t do it and you cannot make me.”

  “Are you done?” he said, tight-jawed.

  She lifted her chin and dared him to contradict her. “I think I am.”

  He took a breath, trying to get a hold of himself. “Fine.” He hauled her against him again and took her mouth, but more gently, softer because he needed to. He was furious and frustrated and trying not to freak out, but he really wished she’d made the choice to go.

  Damn. No, he didn’t. How could he explain to her that he needed her when he was so torn, that she go for her own safety? But that wasn’t going to happen. He finally let her go, combing his fingers through her hair. “You brought me out.”

  “I did?”

  “Yes, you. You brought me back to myself.”

  She cupped his jaw, her thumb running along his cheekbone.

  He glanced behind him to the closed door and inclined his head. “I take it our guest is still inside?”

  “Yes, he started yelling and I put a gag in his mouth. He’s not very happy with me.”

  Sam rose. He was still a little shaky, but that would pass. “Let’s go get some answers.”

  “I brought those hypodermics they were going to shove in my neck. I thought they might come in handy.”

  Sam took them from her and sniffed. “Garlic. This is sodium pentothal. Looks like they wanted answers from you and they were going to make sure you gave them.”

  “Truth serum. Who do you think they are?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “I’m sure ready for this to be over.”

  He hugged her. “So am I, sweetheart.”

  Sam opened the door and the guy’s head swiveled to his. He had mean eyes. Professional killer eyes. Sam knew he was either CIA or former. He was pretty sure this guy or a guy like him killed Dr. Owens. Thad had already come up empty on the facial recognition for this guy. Trying to find out who he was through an official channel wasn’t going to work. So it was going to be the hard way. Sam clenched his hands and the killer looked at him. His face tightened, until Sam brought out the hypodermics.

  “What’s in these?” He used all his training to control his anger. The bastard had planned to inject this substance into Olivia. Sam glanced at her, and the sight of her, so steadfast, so tough, made that cold anger freeze his guts. She’d stayed by him even though they were in peril. Even though she was unsure what he was capable of. Everything from this moment forward was a crapshoot.

  The man’s lips tightened, but he didn’t answer.

  And Sam’s control snapped. “Well, I guess you won’t mind if I inject them into you.”

  Sam walked up to him and shoved first one needle, then the second in his neck and pushed the plungers until the chambers were empty. Then he pulled off the gag.

  “If I say one word, they’re going to kill me.”

  “Do you think just because we kept you alive that we’re any less tolerant? We’ve had enough of this crap. I’m going to ask you some questions. You’re going to give me some answers.”

  The guy remained mute.

  “Yeah, and if the drug or brute force doesn’t work, I have some other persuasion techniques. Remember those street tricks, Sam?”

  She raised her hand. She was holding a black device he recognized immediately. She depressed a switch and it buzzed, crackling electricity arcing between the two protruding electrodes.

  “It involved a Taser and the male anatomy.”

  “A woman after my own heart. Damn, are you sure you weren’t a commando in another life?”

  She smiled and this time, the guy paled.

  Chapter 11

  “Did you kill my brother?”

  The man said nothing, but his eyes were beginning to glaze over.

  Sam had felt it enough, more than enough to know. He could smell it, too. Fear. The guy was beginning to sweat. Whatever was in those hypodermics was something that was going to make him start talking. Sam was watching and waiting for that moment.

  “The trouble with people is that they are much too interested in things that they would be better off not knowing,” the guy said, his attention fully on Olivia.

  “What’s your name?” Sam asked.

  “Lenny Jeffers is the name I use, but my real name is Jesse Carter.” The man’s head swung in Sam’s direction and when he realized what he’d said, his eyes narrowed and he swore.

  “You’ve been watching me.”

  “Yes.”

  Sam was going to start slow. Ask the guy things that he already knew to be true and Sam would have clues deeper into the interrogation whether or not the bastard was lying.

  “Why?”

  “Just watching. That’s all we were supposed to do. Then I saw her.” He swung his gaze back to Olivia. “She was watching you, too. The people I work for didn’t like that, so they told us to snatch her.”

  “Us?”

  “I work with other people. I t
hink your face met up with one of their fists.”

  Sam chuckled and unfolded his arms, pushing away from the wall he was leaning against. “Funny guy, huh?”

  Lenny/Jesse was beginning to sweat and looked as though he was moving deeper under the influence of the drug.

  “So, Jesse, why don’t you tell me what you know about me?”

  “You’re just a means to an end, Winston. You shouldn’t fight it.”

  Olivia moved forward, her hands fisted at her sides. “Did you kill my brother?”

  “I was ordered, lady. It was just a job.”

  Sam moved faster than she did and grabbed her around the waist, carting her out of the room while she screamed for him to let her go. He shut the door and she kicked him in the shin and he released her. She moved a few paces away from him, then rounded on him, her eyes blazing.

  Angry, hurt tears filled her eyes, and Sam went all gooey inside. He could take on a million tangos and not falter, but the sight of Olivia standing there brokenhearted about her brother, probably wanting to put that gun up against the back of that bastard’s brain stem and pump a bullet into his head, was too much for him.

  She flew at him, her frustration level too high for her to calm down. The night had been stressful and his episode had just added to it. But it was now his turn to help her.

  He caught her against him, her small fists pounding on his chest, but he took it, letting her vent her frustrations; then he folded her against him as she sobbed softly against his neck.

  He cupped the back of her head and held her. With each intake of breath, each touch of her salty tears, each movement, he only felt more tenderness for her fill him up. She was a marvel. When she curled her hands into his shirt and held on, he knew most of the storm was over. He had a dangerous operative tied to the chair in the next room and he couldn’t seem to let go of her until she was ready to let go of him.

  When she started to protest, he held her tightly against him. “Take a breath, babe. I know what you want. I understand your pain. But this isn’t going to help.”

  “My brother was murdered trying to help you, Sam. How can you say that?”