by Webb, Debra
She wanted to be here. She wanted to know for sure that Nusair would come. Maybe she had no control over the situation but some part of her stuck by the idea that her presence would draw him. He wanted the woman who had killed his son. She needed to be here if for no other reason than for stacking the odds. It was a matter of simple physics, as long as she was here she couldn’t be anywhere else. On some level she believed he had already sensed her determination to be involved as completely as possible.
She’d been here less than an hour and already she could tell this was going to be a long evening, maybe an even longer night. Who knew if Nusair would even show. If he didn’t, her life as she knew it would be on permanent sabbatical. That was the part she didn’t want to see happen. Unfortunately that component was also well out of her sphere of control.
Everything from this point forward depended upon Nusair’s reaction to today’s staged production in the hotel parking lot. He would, of course, know he hadn’t blown up the van, but he couldn’t discount the possibility that some of his followers might have. There was no way to prove the explosion was rigged without verifying her death.
At least she hoped it worked so logically.
Krueger settled on the edge of the neat desk, drawing her attention to him. Not necessarily a good thing considering she’d been closed up alone in this room with him for almost an hour. Dwelling on this little attraction brewing between them was such a lost cause. Her life was either over or it wasn’t. Whatever the case, Krueger would move on with his.
But he had promised not to walk away. As much as she feared she shouldn’t, she hung on to that hope.
“Tell me what happened between you and your sister.”
The sound of his deep voice made her edgier than she already was. Her emotions were already raw. Delving into that subject matter wouldn’t help.
“You know what happened. You have a file on me, remember?” He’d recited lines and lines from the reports within that file.
He stood, took off his jacket and placed it on the chair in front of the desk. Claire watched every little move with far too much interest.
“I know the facts, nothing more.”
She didn’t really want to talk about her sister right now. The reunion still felt surreal…the idea that Whitney had wanted to make things right a long time ago had thrown Claire into a whole other turmoil. She hadn’t processed what it all meant yet.
However, Krueger wasn’t the kind of man to allow his questions to be played off without a battle. And, truthfully, any kind of distraction might be a good idea right now.
“Our mother died when I was eighteen, Whitney was twelve. Our father worked long hours at the manufacturing plant to support us. I had no choice but to step up to the plate and be the mother. We tried to get through the grief, but my sister didn’t handle the loss well.”
For a few seconds Claire got lost in the painful memories. Krueger didn’t push.
“She did all the typical rebellious teenage stuff and more,” Claire went on eventually. “After I left for college things got worse. She dropped out of high school, ran off and married a local jerk.”
Krueger’s gaze was sympathetic. “I’m sure that was tough on your father.”
Claire nodded, her own guilt still as heavy as ever. It never went away. “I should have been there, but my father insisted that I go on to college.”
“You did the right thing. If you’d stayed it might not have made any difference.”
“But it might have,” she countered. “We’ll never know.” That was the hardest part.
When he didn’t say more she figured he’d heard all he needed to. Most of the rest of the story was probably in the file.
“You were there when she needed you most,” he said softly. That he cared enough to say so meant more than it should have to her.
“I did what I had to do.” She had. The doubt was gone. And that made all the difference.
“Seeing your sister today was important,” Krueger acknowledged. “I’m glad she came.”
For a woman who was dead, Claire suddenly felt as if she had plenty to live for. Definitely something to smile about. “Me, too.”
The possibility that it might be the last time she saw her sister diminished the moment considerably. “If he doesn’t show, what next?” She had a vague idea, but Krueger hadn’t gone into detail and she hadn’t asked. Maybe she should now. Then again, knowing might jinx her.
She didn’t care. She needed to know.
He loosened his ever-present tie, making her wish those hands were touching her the way they had that first time he kissed her. Stop it, she ordered.
“If Nusair doesn’t show then Claire Grant has no choice but to stay dead. The only way to ensure he doesn’t come after you or the people you care about again is for him to believe that you’re dead.”
“So I’ll go into witness protection.” It wasn’t a question. She understood that her options were limited, nonexistent actually, beyond the idea of catching Nusair. As long as he was free, she would be a prisoner in many respects.
“It’s not such a bad thing considering,” he offered.
“I guess not.” In a way, he was right. She was lucky to be alive. As unfair as this whole thing was, bad things happened to good people every day. She needed to keep that in mind and remember to count her blessings.
Krueger hadn’t allowed her to watch the news. He knew it would be too painful. She could just imagine what Whitney and Darlene were going through.
And her students.
“Don’t go there, Claire.”
She looked up. Krueger was assessing her emotional state all too well without her having to say a word.
“I regret the fallout for the kids.”
Krueger leaned forward, covered her hand with his. “If all teachers were like you the world would be a far better place.”
“It’s a question of basic human compassion, Krueger. I’m no saint looking for martyrdom.” Any teacher would have felt the same way. She wasn’t a hero. She was just a woman who’d done what she had to do.
If she were so special she wouldn’t be sitting here feeling sorry for herself because she couldn’t have her life back. Unfortunately she was far too human.
“You see,” he tossed right back at her, “I rest my case. I’ve worked with my share of those headed for witness protection, trust me, you rise well above the usual suspect.”
Amused and undeniably flattered, she adopted a skeptical expression. “I’m not so sure that was a compliment. Aren’t a lot of the folks in the program former criminals?”
He tugged at her hand until she scooted up on the desk next to him. He turned his head so that he was looking at her with only a few inches between them. “We’re not going to assume the worst. This isn’t over, Claire.”
“So what do we do now?”
He leaned closer, brushed his lips against hers. “This isn’t standard procedure,” he murmured, the feel of his lips vibrating against hers making her shiver. “I don’t usually break the rules.”
That she could believe.
He kissed her slowly, tenderly and she wanted it to be more. She moved her hands to his chest and relished all that he could offer her even if it was only a kiss.
He drew away, his breath ragged, his eyes full of the same yearning she felt. When he reached into the pocket of his trousers and removed his ringing cell phone, she knew the moment was over.
“Krueger.”
A wave of anticipation washed over her. She tried not to fear the worst as he’d said, but it was difficult not to. She wanted this over, no more casualties, no matter the price to her.
Maybe that was the mark of a martyr, but she didn’t see it that way. No more children were going to be risked to satisfy a raging lunatic on account of her. She was willing to die to stop Nusair. That wasn’t being a hero, that was simply being a decent human being.
The sudden shift in the tone of Krueger’s voice hauled her attention to hi
s end of the evidently tense conversation. He stood, his back to her, his free hand rubbing the back of his neck.
“Continue the evacuation, but nobody makes a move until I’m on site, understand? Not a single move.” Pause. “I’m on my way.”
He snapped the phone closed, grabbed his jacket and pulled it on before stuffing the phone into his pocket. “We have to relocate.”
Something was wrong.
Claire was on her feet before her brain had even issued the order. “What’s going on? Why’re we moving?”
His face was grim.
“Apparently Nusair suspected we’d set him up. His people zeroed in on the hotel rather than the trap we’d laid.”
“The hotel?” At first the significance didn’t register. Then it did. “He has my sister?”
“I’m afraid so. If you aren’t there in forty-five minutes, he’s going to kill her.”
The twenty-five minutes it took to reach the hotel were the most tension-filled of Claire’s life. She had thought nothing could ever top what she’d gone through getting to those children, but this did. She wanted to crawl into a hole and die.
This was way past enough.
The area of the parking lot where the explosion had occurred was still cordoned off. Hundreds of guests had been ushered to the far side of the undamaged parking area to the west of the main entrance. The Seattle police were in place overseeing crowd control.
Several men she recognized as FBI agents were working outside a van parked beneath the dropoff and pick-up portico at the hotel’s main entrance. As her SUV neared the group, she recognized the setup. This was the base of operations.
Her heart rate accelerated, sending adrenaline through her veins, along with no small amount of panic.
“Bring me up to speed,” Krueger ordered as they reached Agent Carver.
Claire remembered him from the first day she’d been brought in by the FBI.
“He’s on the fourteenth floor. The four agents we had guarding Mrs. Stewart are down.”
“Damn.” Krueger slammed his fist against the side of the van. “All dead?”
“Only one dead, the rest are still alive but we can’t get to them to assess their condition.”
Not only did her sister’s life depend upon her, Claire realized, the lives of those agents did as well.
“Where do I need to go?” Claire stepped into the fray. “He’s waiting for me, right? Where?”
Carver and Krueger exchanged a look.
“Don’t start with that,” she warned. “We all know what I have to do, now give me the location.”
“Nusair and approximately six of his men are up there, Claire,” Krueger explained, his expression graver now than before. “If we send you in, we can’t protect you. My men are down.”
“I don’t care.” This was it. She had known this moment might come. Before Krueger had come up with this latest plan she had been fully prepared to surrender to Nusair. She was prepared now. “I’m going in.”
“Wait.” Krueger took her arm when she headed for the entrance. “We need to rig you with communications first. At least that way we can monitor what’s going on.”
What she saw in his eyes wasn’t at all professional. The desperation was as painful to look at as her own was to endure. She relented. At least one of them was thinking rationally. “Okay.”
Krueger waved someone from the van over and an agent she didn’t recognize hurried to do his bidding. He placed the necessary earpiece and tagged her with an undetectable listening device. He called it a microfiber job. It’s clear color made it invisible against her navy sweater.
“Thanks.” She touched the earpiece as the agent’s test call sounded in her ear. “I can hear you fine,” she told him.
“Excellent.” He looked from her to Krueger and back. “You don’t need to worry, Miss Grant, the imbedded team already has sound as well as visual, but this will take care of you if you’re taken to a different location. There’s a new technology tracking device built into the micro—”
“That’s all Miss Grant needs,” Krueger cut in.
Krueger’s hand was suddenly at the small of her back ushering her toward the entrance. “This is as far as I can go with you, Claire. They’re watching the lobby. Explosives are rigged for detonation if anyone other than you comes inside. The room is 1420, just down the hall from the suite of rooms we’ve been using for a command post.”
Claire stopped and turned to face him. “What was he talking about, the imbedded team? Did he mean the agents who are down?” He hadn’t sounded as though that was what he meant.
“That’s nothing you need to worry about.”
Something was missing here.
“Twelve minutes remaining since the warning call,” Carver announced.
Claire knew she had to go, but she wanted the whole story here. Something was wrong and Krueger’s guard was firmly back in place, shielding whatever was on his mind.
“I’m not going in until I know what that means. You said your men inside were down. That agent—” she nodded toward the one who had rigged her “—just talked about the imbedded team inside. What’s going on, Krueger?”
“Probability statistics showed that there was a major risk that Nusair wouldn’t buy the bombing scenario. So we leaked information about your sister’s location.”
Disbelief and shock hit her with the impact of a launched rocket. She couldn’t have heard right. “You purposely put my sister’s life in danger?”
“It’s not that simple—”
She slapped him as hard as she could. “Damn you, Krueger. If she dies I’m going to kick Nusair’s ass and then I’m going to come back down here and kick yours.”
For a moment he just stood there staring at her and then he grabbed her, held her close against his chest. She tried to pull away, but he was far too strong. What the hell did he think he was doing?
“Your sister is safe. An agent is posing as her,” he whispered against her ear. “Trust me, Claire. We know what we’re doing, but no one else needs to know.”
His grip loosened and she drew back. His jaw was red where she’d popped him. “Okay. Maybe I won’t have to kick your ass.”
Krueger’s guard fell away and this time she saw the fear mingled with the desperation. “Be careful in there.”
“Ten minutes,” Carver reminded.
Claire held Krueger’s gaze a moment longer. There was a lot she would have liked to say to him, but there wasn’t time. She turned away and entered the hotel.
The elegant lobby was empty, the silence deafening.
She walked to the elevators and pressed the call button. Nothing blew up. No shots were fired. Thank God.
“We have movement.”
Claire didn’t recognize the voice coming across her communications link. Evidently one of the agents imbedded on the fourteenth floor. Whatever that meant.
“Can you confirm that the intruder is the target?”
Krueger.
A soft ding announced the arrival of the elevator. As she boarded she wondered if the target meant Nusair. Had to, she decided. She selected the fourteenth floor and leaned against the wall as the elevator doors closed.
“Negative. Male, approximately six feet, medium build, wearing sunglasses and a baseball cap.”
Krueger swore.
“Intruder is entering hot zone.”
Claire felt her pulse pounding. Her sister was safe but the life of those agents depended on her. She had to do this right. No mistakes. Full cooperation.
The elevator abruptly stopped. Claire checked the floor. Twelve. She glanced at the control panel. She hadn’t pushed the wrong button. Fourteen was still lit.
The sound of gunfire erupted in her earpiece.
Fear rose in her chest.
“We have eliminated the intruder!”
“Confirm!” Krueger fairly shouted.
The elevator doors began to glide open but the ruckus in her earpiece held most of Claire’s at
tention. She jabbed at the button for the fourteenth floor. What was going on up there?
“Negative. I repeat, negative on the target. The downed intruder is not the target.”
What did that mean? Was she supposed to continue toward the fourteenth floor? She hadn’t received orders otherwise.
The elevator door started to close again.
Finally. She didn’t get why they had opened unless Krueger’s people were in control of their operation and the stop had been to slow her arrival since gunfire had erupted.
“Claire! Get out of there!”
Krueger’s voice.
She started to ask what he meant when, at the last possible second, a hand cut between the two doors and stopped them from closing.
Her heart lunged into her throat.
“Claire! Get out of there now!”
Krueger’s words rang in her ear once more but it was too late. The muzzle of a weapon had already been jammed against her forehead.
The man grabbed her by the arm with his left hand and dragged her out of the elevator.
She strained to get a better look at him. His face was not hidden by a mask as had been the case with the men who had stormed the school.
Was this Nusair? Or one of his henchmen?
The doors of the other elevator opened and he hauled her inside. He pressed the button for the top floor. With the gun jammed into her forehead, he used a handheld device to scan her body.
She realized he was looking for bugs.
Seconds later he had pinpointed the microfiber job on her sweater. He removed it and pressed it on to the elevator wall. Then he took her earpiece and tucked it into his own ear.
As he went about his business she studied his face, attempted to visualize Habib’s face next to his. Same nose. Same mouth and eyes. This was Nusair all right. The resemblance was irrefutable. She’d seen the photos Krueger had of him but they were all of a man wearing one kind of camouflage or another. Either sunglasses or the traditional headgear of his homeland. None had shown a full front-on image of his face.