by Debra Webb
Watts withdrew what looked like a slim pocket watch and glanced at it. “I guess that’s my cue to go.”
Allowing him one last smile, Piper turned toward the homey arrangement that served as their set, with its overstuffed chairs, intricately carved oak table and Tiffany lamp. She started in that direction at the same moment Jacob Watts headed stage right. Their paths collided. She tripped over his long leg, but he caught her. One steadying hand connected with her waist, flattening against her stomach, the other closed around her arm. The palm covering her belly button caught the brunt of her weight, pressing firmly to upright her. A twinge of pain shot through her from the nearly forgotten incision. She winced before she could repress the gesture.
“I’m so sorry, Miss Ryan,” he offered contritely when he’d steadied her fully. “I guess this is why I don’t spend any time in front of the camera.” He laughed at his own ungainly blunder, then looked at his pocket watch again as if he feared he’d damaged it somehow.
“It’s all right. I’m fine,” she assured him. She smoothed a hand over her suit and offered him a patient smile. No wonder she’d experienced that twinge of pain. The guy still had his watch in his hand.
His cheeks a bit flushed, Jacob Watts backed up a couple of steps. “I’ll just get out of the way before I cause any more damage.” He hurried away, suddenly quite adept at dodging the numerous obstacles in his path.
Maybe she made him nervous. Though Piper couldn’t fathom why, she didn’t have time to dwell on that mystery at the moment. Thankfully she hadn’t dropped her cards and gotten them out of order, and she quickly took her seat next to the senator. In only a few short minutes the whole country was going to be looking at her. Her heart thundered back into a deafening staccato.
While the set director and floor manager ensured that all was as it should be, Piper took long, slow deep breaths to calm herself and to prepare for the moment when the cameras went hot. She focused inward to the years of discipline and hard work that had made her the excellent interviewer she was. An award-winning interviewer, she reminded that little worrisome voice that chipped away at her self-confidence.
The next few minutes were going to be the most important of her life. And she intended to give a stellar performance.
RIC WATCHED from stage left. It had taken him a full two minutes to calm after that clumsy Watts guy had all but bowled Piper over. The jerk was standing on the opposite side of the stage now, mopping his sweating brow with a handkerchief. It was a miracle the man survived in the world of politics if he was half as nervous and graceless as he appeared this morning. But then, cutting the man some slack, tension was running high at the moment.
Especially Ric’s. That instinct he’d honed as a kid in one of Chicago’s toughest neighborhoods was nagging relentlessly at him. Something was going down and there wasn’t a damned thing he could do to stop it. He had never, ever felt this helpless. He wanted more than anything to protect Piper, but every instinct warned him that whatever was going on was somehow out of his hands.
And he didn’t like it at all. There had to be a way to keep the situation under control. Townsend and Green, a dozen members of the senator’s own recently beefed-up security team and four of Lucas’s own specialists were on-site. They had the place thoroughly covered.
Ric listened carefully as Lucas’s team called the all-clear on one area after the other. There were no hostiles in the vicinity. Not one.
But there had to be. SSU didn’t make idle threats.
If the intel Lucas had was up-to-date, and Ric was certain it was as current as could be obtained, then something was going to go down today. Considering Ric’s own instincts were humming with dread, he felt sure it was only a matter of time until trouble made itself known.
Ric frowned when his gaze shifted to the other side of the stage. Watts was no longer loitering there. Maybe the guy had had to walk off some of the tension.
“Logan here. We’ve got one on the move.” A male voice, one of Lucas’s team members, sounded in Ric’s earpiece. “He’s out the side door.”
“I’ve got him in my sights,” a decidedly female voice said next. “It’s that guy Watts.”
“Stand down, Callahan,” Lucas ordered. “Don’t fire unless necessary.”
“He’s heading east. I’m right behind him.” Logan again, breathless from running.
“I can cut him off,” another male voice added.
“Hold your position, Ferrelli,” Lucas instructed. “He may be a decoy.”
Thick silence lurked in the tense moments that followed. Ric’s pulse rate tripled as he strained to hear any sound. What the hell could Watts be up to? Ric’s gaze never left Piper. She looked so beautiful that it made his chest ache. He had to focus hard on keeping his mind on business while keeping his eyes on her.
If he could just find the right words to say to make her trust him again. Would it matter? he wondered. Would she overlook his betrayal, set aside what he did for a living and let this thing between them go where it would?
No way. She’d made her standing clear. She had no intention of falling in love in the first place. And definitely not with a guy like him. His past aside, Ric represented the precise kind of man she did not want to be involved with. She didn’t want a hero or a guy who put his career above all else. She would risk her life for the story, but she didn’t want the man in her life to do the same. He thought about the story she’d told him about her father and he tried to understand her feelings on the issue.
But he wanted her. And he wanted her to want him. Nothing he could call to mind was reason enough to keep him from wanting her or to stay his desire for her to return the feeling.
“I’ve got him.” It was Logan again, his voice strained as if he was struggling. The choice words that echoed next, followed by a couple of heavy thuds confirmed Ric’s estimation.
“Hold him. Raine and I are on our way to your location,” Lucas cut in.
Ric breathed a little easier now that the guy had been caught. He wondered briefly how the hell Jacob Watts had slipped under the security net and gotten that close to the senator. Or maybe he’d already been in place and simply got an offer he couldn’t refuse. Fury twisted inside Ric at that thought. What kind of lowlife put a price on life? He wanted his turn at using Watts for a punching bag. And it had to be Watts. Why else would he run at this pivotal moment?
“Lucas, we have a situation red,” Logan said, his voice eerily calm. “The guy’s carrying a palm-size, very high-tech device that could be some kind of activator, considering it has a timer that’s counting down as we speak.”
Lucas swore.
Ric tensed.
“Should we evacuate the studio?” Ferrelli suggested.
“Hold on, sir, we have incoming intel from a land line. It’s an FBI field supervisor.” Another new voice. Male, and apparently, the communications coordinator.
“Nobody moves,” Lucas ordered. He was breathing hard. “If we’ve got intel coming in on a land line we’ve got intel that can’t wait. Hold on to that son of a bitch, Logan, I’m almost there.”
Ric released the breath he’d been holding. The FBI agent undercover at the SSU headquarters must have something hot. Maybe he’d obtained the lowdown on what SSU was up to this morning.
The interview had begun. Ric directed his full attention back on Piper. Logan apparently had Watts under control. Lucas was in charge of the situation. If the studio needed to be evacuated, he would give the order. Ric’s job was to keep Piper safe. He smiled as he watched her in action. She was smooth. The senator was charmed. The viewing audience would be, as well. Ric felt something shift in his chest. Piper was on her way up. There would be no stopping her.
She definitely wouldn’t have time for a guy like him.
As much as it hurt, he was happy for her. She wanted this so much. He wanted her to have it.
“Martinez.”
It was Lucas. He sounded strange. “I’m here, man.”
“I want you to get Piper out of that studio any way you have to. A car will be waiting out front. The engine will be running. I’ll feed you instructions on where to go. Do it now.”
Ric frowned. “Piper isn’t going to like it. The interview—”
“Screw the interview,” Lucas snapped. “That bomb is going to go off in twenty minutes. There’s no time to waste. We’re notifying the bomb squad right now. So move!”
Ric was already walking toward Piper before Lucas finished his last statement. “What about the rest of the people?” Surely Lucas didn’t intend to leave everyone else in the building.
“Hurry, Martinez. I’m too far away to do it myself. You have to hurry. There’s no time for me to get back there.” Urgency tightened the voice echoing in Martinez’s earpiece. “I don’t know how the bastards did it, but the explosive is implanted subcutaneously in Piper’s abdomen. You have to get her to a hospital. Now.”
Ric stalled halfway to his destination. “What did you say?”
“You have nineteen minutes, Martinez. In nineteen minutes Piper and anyone close to her is going to die.”
Chapter Thirteen
“How do you see the role of this new organization as different from the other agencies who have worked to stop terrorism, Senator?”
Piper listened attentively as the senator offered his practiced answer to her question. They were only a few minutes into the interview and things were off to a great start. She was nervous, her palms a little damper than usual, but otherwise she was in control. She told herself again that this interview was no different than the dozens of interviews she had done back home in Atlanta. Of course, having a news legend introduce her had been a little unnerving. But the moment Piper had asked her first question, she’d settled right into the role.
This was what she’d wanted to do for as long as she could remember.
“I believe this kind of narrowed focus will make all the difference,” the senator was saying. “Fighting terrorism will be our only goal. Our attention will not be splintered in any other direction. And we have a strong message for groups like the SSU,” he went on. “Their time is very short. Acts of terrorism will not be tolerated. We will stop them.”
Piper nodded her solemn agreement. She hoped SSU was watching right now. “To the extent you can share with our viewers, how do you plan to deter terrorism?”
“Well, Piper,” he began with that charismatic smile, “it’s our belief that—”
The senator stopped abruptly, his gaze moving to someplace beyond Piper’s right shoulder. She resisted the near-overwhelming urge to look behind her, but years of on-camera training kept her looking directly at her guest.
“You were saying, Senator,” she prompted. Whatever was taking place behind her, she had to get the senator back on track. Now was not the time for anyone’s attention to wander, most certainly not his.
A strong hand clamped around Piper’s right arm. Startled, she whipped her head around to see who had grabbed her. Martinez.
“We have to go. Now.”
“What?” Why was he on the stage? Go where?
Piper glanced at the camera, then back at the man effectively pulling her out of her chair. “Martinez, what are you doing?” she demanded beneath her breath. Had he lost his mind?
He jerked her microphone from her jacket and tossed it onto the table next to the artificial flower arrangement. “There’s no time to explain.”
She dug in her heels. “Are you insane?” A peculiar mixture of fear and anger erupted inside her. This could not be happening. She had to be hallucinating.
Martinez’s hold on her tightened. This was no hallucination. “Don’t argue,” he growled from between clenched teeth.
The senator was on his feet then. “What’s the meaning of this?” He started toward Martinez.
Piper glanced at the control booth and hoped like hell that they’d gone to another commercial break, but one look at a nearby monitor told her they hadn’t. Surely the director would do something fast.
Townsend suddenly appeared behind the senator and ushered him back into his chair. Green was arguing with the station’s security guard a few feet away.
What on earth was happening? Piper stared in disbelief at the sheer number of people, Feds as well as the Senator’s security personnel, who suddenly flooded the set. What was going on? She turned to glare at the man now dragging her off the stage. Had there been a bomb threat? She frowned. Surely they would evacuate everyone if that were the case. Why wouldn’t Martinez simply tell her if that were the problem.
“Three minutes until we’re live again,” a male voice announced from the control booth. “Someone had better get the situation straightened out. I can’t stretch it.”
Thank God. They had finally gone to a commercial break. Piper seized the opportunity to jerk hard against Martinez’s ironclad grip. “What are you doing? If there’s no immediate threat, I have to finish this interview.”
He didn’t answer. He just kept tugging her along. Cold, hard reality slapped Piper in the face then. He’d ruined her interview. She was done for. She could see the headlines now. Jilted Lover Drags Television Journalist From The Most Important Interview Of Her Life. Journalist Will Never Work Again! Her career was over. And why? No one was shooting at them. There didn’t appear to be any bad guys nearby.
Martinez pushed through the studio exit and out into the bright morning sun. Piper twisted, pulling with all her might to stop him. “Dammit, Martinez, where are you taking me?” Where was her uncle when she needed him? Why hadn’t Townsend helped her instead of letting Martinez drag her out like this?
She jerked hard again. “I said, let me go!”
Ric stopped abruptly and glared at her. Without a word he swept her off her feet and into his arms and started striding away from the studio again.
Furious, she pounded his chest with her fists. “Get your hands off me!”
He ignored her.
The dark sedan they had arrived in over an hour ago was sitting at the curb, the engine running. Piper frowned. They’d parked in back. Why was the car up front now? Why was the engine running?
Martinez jerked the driver’s side door open, dropped her to her feet and pushed her toward the open door. “Get in.”
Piper placed one foot against the vehicle and used it for leverage against him. “No way,” she snapped. “Not until you tell me what’s going on.”
“Get in the car, Piper,” he demanded. “I don’t have time to explain.”
“Take the time,” she bit off. “You just ruined the biggest interview of my career, bucko. So you’d better have one amazing excuse!” She pushed back when he again attempted to force her inside the car. He would tell her what was going on or she wasn’t going anywhere. She whirled to face him, but the words she intended to hurl at him died on her tongue when she met his dark gaze.
Something changed in his eyes. The irritation was gone, instantly replaced by utter desperation. Before she could figure out what that meant and react, he’d reached beneath his jacket and snagged his big mean-looking gun. One of the two he’d used to protect her all this time when she’d thought he was just a cameraman.
He leveled it on her now. “Get in the damn car.”
Piper blinked, stunned. He had lost his mind.
“Okay,” she said quickly. She definitely didn’t want to argue with a man who had a gun aimed at her, even if it was Martinez. Her heart pounding with the adrenaline now flooding her body, she all but hurled herself into the car. She scrambled across the bench seat to the passenger side. Before she could grab the door handle and escape as she’d planned, she heard the click of the power locks. He shoved the car into gear when she would have tried hitting the unlock button.
“Buckle up,” Martinez instructed.
The car lunged onto the street, propelling her back against the seat. After a couple of false starts, her fingers numb and clumsy with the fear pounding through her veins, Piper finally snapped the se
at belt into place.
“Where are we going?” she demanded hoarsely, her voice shaking in spite of her best efforts to keep it steady.
“Just be quiet,” he snapped. “I have to concentrate.”
Ric listened intently to the voice coming through crystal clear on his earpiece. Lucas confirmed that the bomb squad was en route to the hospital, as well. Ric studied the street ahead as Lucas rattled off the directions that would take him and Piper to that same hospital. Lucas’s next words shook Ric to the bone. The private hospital he’d taken Piper to last week had been closed for two months. It had been a setup.
He’d known it. Dammit, he had known that something wasn’t right with that Dr. Petersen. The lack of personnel…the missing vending machines…the interview charade with the mother of one of the SSU members…Piper getting sick. It was all one big elaborate plan to ensure the opportunity to implant the explosives. With the tiny explosive in place, they could kill Piper and the senator in one fatal blow, live—on national—television, allowing SSU to make a huge statement. But how had they managed such a flawless setup?
An idea filtered through the worry and fear inside him. “Did you eat or drink anything that morning before the interview with the Olsen woman? Before you got sick?” he asked, glancing at Piper as he maneuvered swiftly down the crowded street, darting in and out of the lanes of traffic to avoid slowing down.
Piper glared at him as if he’d lost his mind. “You need help, Martinez. This is kidnapping!”
“Answer the question,” he roared, then clenched his jaw in an effort to regain control. Fear was vibrating inside him. He refused to consider that in a few short minutes she could die. He didn’t care if he died, but he couldn’t let anything happen to Piper.
She shrank farther against the passenger side door. Then, as if suddenly remembering his question, she shook her head in response. She stopped suddenly. “Wait. I had coffee. Keith brought me a cup before we left the station.”