The Choice

by Jean Brashear

  “Jillian, the trust has to go both ways. I promise you that Hafner will not go free, but I need your help. It’s the one part of the plan I wasn’t happy with because I had no way to send Alice and Mary Beth away without arousing suspicions that could foul everything up. I’d tried to resign myself to just making sure they stayed hidden, but it was still a risk. This, though, would work. Everyone here knows how close you’ve become to those children, and you and Alice have been very friendly. Alice doesn’t drive herself much, so it’s the perfect answer to be sure they’re out of harm’s way.”

  She frowned. “But what about Hafner? What about watching your back?”

  “I’ll be careful, but there’s no one else I can trust to do this. The task force was alerted to watch out for Alice and the kids, but you know anything can happen in a raid.”

  “Which is why I should be here,” she insisted.

  “I won’t be here that long.”

  She eyed him carefully. “The contingency plan—you’re going to take Hafner out of here, just like we’ve practiced.”

  Cullinane hesitated, mind racing. She hadn’t exactly agreed, but she wasn’t actively fighting him over this. If he hoped to convince her of how important her cooperation was and secure her agreement, he’d have to share this much of the plan with her. He nodded. “I’m going to try. Will you help me?”

  He could see the war going on inside her. She’d chafe at being away from the action, but he wasn’t kidding—this part of the plan had worried him. Also, given Alice’s sense of obligation toward Hafner, she was too much of a wild card. He’d been prepared to lure her and Mary Beth to the security command center and lock them inside the extra-thick walls if it came to that. They would be safe there, but they would be safer completely away. Jillian’s invitation to drive Alice to the market would be the perfect plan, arousing no suspicions on Alice’s part. Ron did it often; Jillian would simply substitute.

  Jillian eyed him skeptically, obviously not happy about his request. “How sure are you that someone else will be watching out for you?”

  “Very sure.” In truth, he wasn’t. Everyone on the task force had plenty else to do without guarding him. Realistically, he would be on his own. They could only observe from outside the walls until the raid actually began. He would be vulnerable to anything Hafner might have cooked up with the men inside the walls, but he’d have to hope that Hafner’s paranoia would prevent him from using anyone Cullinane had hired and trained. He’d more likely use an outsider.

  She almost smiled. “You knew I would hate this, didn’t you?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Damn you, Cullinane. You knew I couldn’t risk them. Did you plan all this out ahead of time, in that serpentine mind of yours?”

  He had to smile at that. “Nobody could plan for you, Jillian. You’re the wild card that throws every ops planner into a cold sweat.”

  Her fingers picked at the sheets, worrying the fabric. “I’m afraid.” Soft brown eyes rose to meet his, and he saw the fear rising. “Not for me but for you. I don’t trust fate. I’ve lost too many people I love.”

  He’d think later about her use of the word love, but right now, he had to make sure she was safe. “I won’t die, Jillian.”

  Tears brimmed, her face strained and pale. “You can’t be sure of that.” She crushed the sheets in a fist.

  He let down his barriers and answered from the heart. “I’m not leaving you, not when we’ve barely begun. You can take that to the bank. I’m coming out of this, and I’m coming straight to you.”

  She tried for a smile, but it died, stillborn.

  There was nothing he could do but wait.

  Finally, she looked up at him, her gaze assessing, measuring how much she dared to believe. Sorrow washed over her face, chased by resignation. “All right, you win. I’ll do it your way.”

  The satisfaction he would have expected to feel didn’t emerge. He didn’t want it to be a contest. And only time would tell how much they’d both lose.

  But knowing that this had cost her, he laced her fingers with his. Voice husky with emotions he couldn’t share, Cullinane brought her fingers to his lips and spoke the only words he trusted himself to say. “Thank you.”

  Jillian’s troubled gaze studied him as he felt her retreat emotionally. Tightening his fingers on hers, he willed her back, though he knew it was futile. They both had to cope however they could.

  “I should go to my room,” she said quietly.

  “I know.” He kissed her fingers again. “We both need to sleep.”

  “Yes.” But she didn’t move.

  He held on tightly. “I don’t want this night to end.”

  Jillian looked at him sadly. “It already has.”

  “No.” He would hold back the dawn a little longer, just to hold her. “Stay with me, Jillian. I’ll set the alarm so we’ll get you out of here in plenty of time, but I want to sleep with you in my arms.”

  She wanted it, too, he could tell, but he could also see her awareness of what lay ahead. Finally, he seized the decision in hand, swiveling away to set the alarm for four-thirty. The sheets rustled behind him, and he waited to feel her weight leave the bed.

  Instead her arms circled him from behind, hugging his waist. Turning, he took her down to the mattress, holding her close, so close he could feel their heartbeats mingling, keeping time with the sands of the hourglass that were slipping away.

  She needed to sleep; he needed his rest. Tomorrow would be grueling and they would need to be in top form.

  But somehow he knew that the feel of her would restore him more than sleep ever could. He would watch over her and hope she would rest.

  In the heart of the darkness they would draw sustenance from each other, arm their souls against what was to come.

  And together, they would struggle in vain to hold back the dawn.

  Chapter Fifteen

  Blood smeared the bathtub rim, Loretta’s life trickling away in dark, angry tears down the porcelain. Heart pounding, Jillian raced to her until Belinda stepped between them, hair a tortured tangle, her face a mask of anguish, her lacerated flesh a rebuke.

  Why, Jillian? Why didn’t you help me when I needed you? Look what you’ve done...look what you’ve done...

  “Jillian, wake up. It’s only a dream.”

  Heart ramming against her chest, lungs burning as she clawed for air, Jillian gasped, scrambling to escape the restraints lashing her to the bed.

  “Jillian, it’s all right....” His deep voice rumbled, hands stroking her hair. “You were only dreaming.”

  Drake. It was his arms holding her down. She sagged in relief.

  Struggling to clear her head, Jillian pulled away, her mind still full of the horror of what she’d almost let slip away in the night.

  Belinda.

  Loretta.

  Justice too long denied.

  She looked at the clock. Three a.m., the time when humans were at their lowest ebb. Shoving her hair from her face, she rose to her knees, staring at him, trying to reconcile what she’d done. For too many moments last night, she’d let herself forget, let herself believe in something that she wanted desperately, an end to this mission. An end that would free her.

  But her dream was a reminder, a wake-up call from her conscience. She’d known going in that they could only have this night, but she’d allowed herself to hope for more. Now she was bone-deep scared of the risk she was taking. She could lose both Drake and her chance at justice today.

  Retreating from him while she still could, Jillian rose from the bed, unable to meet his eyes. She searched for her clothes and began slipping them on.

  “Jillian, look at me,” his low, urgent tone commanded. “You’re having second thoughts, aren’t you?”

  She worked to compose her features, then slowly, she faced him.

  It hurt to see him. His dark beauty stung her, raven hair falling around his powerful shoulders, the streak of silver like a badge of command. But it was
the eyes that hurt her most, for they were still open to her, still haunted.

  Suddenly she had to know.

  “Why do you hate him? You do, don’t you?”

  The flash of pain answered. He nodded. “It was a long time ago. I wasn’t quick enough to understand. I misread the signals and the children of an orphanage in Bosnia died in a bomb he planted, him and his terrorist buddies. I don’t think Hafner even stayed around to see the damage, probably never gave them a second thought. But I was there. I saw...” He cleared his throat, then continued, “I saw the results of my miscalculation. I’d played with those children, even thought about trying to adopt one. Instead I killed them because I made a mistake and underestimated Klaus Hafner. I swore then that someday I’d get him, that I’d redeem myself.”

  He lifted tortured eyes to hers. “I’ve waited a long time for this, Jillian. Believe me when I say he won’t escape his punishment.”

  The sticky feel of Loretta’s blood still marked her fingers, the dull ache of betraying Belinda still scraped at her heart. But Drake had his own pain, his own horrors that haunted him.

  She understood better now, and she believed more than ever that he’d do his best to make it happen. But could she be sure Hafner wouldn’t walk away, ever again? Could she take a chance on a system that had failed more than once?

  It came down to trust, just as he’d said. This was their defining moment. What happened next was up to her.

  She bent and poured her plea into one last, long, sweet kiss. When his hands cradled her face, it was all she could do not to break down. “I believe in you, but I can’t help being afraid. Hafner’s suspicious, and he’s a murderer. If anything happened to you, I’d never forgive myself.” She’d seen his face when he’d said he’d have backup, and she knew the truth. For precious minutes, he’d be totally alone and outnumbered. “I have the training. I can help you. I’ll leave Hafner alone, but please let me stay with you. I’ll watch out for Alice and Mary Beth, but let me watch your back.”

  “I can’t do that. Help me, Jillian, don’t fight me. I need you to do what I ask.”

  She tried for a smile. The one that answered her was as sad as her own, as filled with longing and regret.

  “When this is over...” He halted, then cleared his throat. “Don’t come back here. Take Alice and Mary Beth to the motel where you were staying when you first came. Register under Loretta’s name. I’ll come to you as soon as I can.”

  “How can you ask me to do that, to just leave you behind?”

  “Do you want me to beg?”

  And what if you’re dead? But it wasn’t fair to keep badgering him. He had so much on his mind, so much to coordinate. She ran the risk of endangering him just by making him worry about her when he needed to concentrate, but this was agony. She knew how to take responsibility, to take action. To step aside and give up control was terrifying. “All right,” she whispered, feeling her heart all but torn from her chest.

  At the door, she spoke over her shoulder. “You’d better come back to me, safe and sound, Drake Cullinane.” Her voice cracked. “Don’t you make me bury you, too.” Holding onto her composure with the tiniest of threads, she couldn’t look at him again. If she did, she would be the one begging. Arms wrapped tight around her middle, Jillian left his room.

  The night was over. The final day had begun.

  Heaven help them both.

  * * *

  Drake didn’t try to sleep after she left, too keyed up, however much his body needed the rest. He ran through the details of the operation in his head again and again, how the task force would set up a perimeter two miles away, out of reach of the compound’s cameras. A cable repair van would arrive at the gates early, ostensibly to install an outlet in the kitchen for a gift from Hafner to Alice. Because it would be unexpected, the man on gate duty would check in with Drake, who would explain and grant permission for the van to enter.

  The cable repairman would arrive, one of the Bureau’s best agents, and at the moment he saw fit, he would alert the second agent, hidden inside a cleverly hidden compartment in the van, and they would disable whichever of Hafner’s men were within reach. The man watching the monitors in the control center would be quick to alert Drake to the breach, and Drake would sprint to Hafner’s quarters, extract him in one of their rehearsed scenarios and race out of the house, headed for the garage and an always-fueled Jeep, keys in the ignition at all times. He would escape with Hafner and head for the fishing camp, while the task force moved in, and the compound was secured. Hafner would have to leave his cell phone because it could be tracked, thus he would be unable to alert anyone until the task force had moved in on all locations, domestic and abroad.

  Drake, too, would be on his own. Playing out the scenario where he also had no cell, would be an essential part of keeping Hafner unaware of his double role until it was too late. They would, however, be observed from the moment they hit the perimeter controlled by the task force. There would be a two-mile blind spot, but Hafner was soft, and Drake was more than his match, should anything go south.

  And Drake was doubly on alert now, thanks to Jillian’s warning.

  Memories of the night just past flooded him, but ruthlessly he rejected them. He was counting on the powerful feelings between them to keep her focused on protecting the innocents rather than on her vengeance, but he didn’t kid himself that the struggle wasn’t tearing her in half. Their bond was new, and her guilt and grief were deeply woven into the fiber of her being.

  The crackle of the intercom startled him from his thoughts. “Yeah?”

  “Boss, you awake?”

  “Yeah. Barely.” Not true, but...

  “There’s something I need you to look at in the control center.”

  He frowned. “What is it?”

  “I’m picking up on a cell call on the premises, not one of ours. Since today is the big day...”

  “I’ll be right there.” Could Jillian have a phone he didn’t know about? Who would she be calling? Damn it, she’d promised...

  Pissed, he jammed his weapon in his belt and a clip in one pocket so he didn’t come off as too prepared. Goddammit, Jillian, what are you doing?

  He stormed out of his door and charged down the hall.

  “Missing your beauty sleep, Cullinane?”

  In the darkness Hafner stood, armed and waiting.

  * * *

  Jillian paced her room. The clock seemed to crawl.

  Enough. She would go to the gym, work out some of this overload in her system and settle herself before the raid began. She was almost out the door when she heard footsteps passing.

  And Hafner’s voice, though she couldn’t make out his words.

  She shrank back, peering through the crack, seeing nothing. What was he doing up this early? He seldom rose before mid-morning. Dread stirred in her gut as she recalled his phone conversation.

  Then she heard another voice. One she knew well from the sweet, stolen hours of the night.

  This wasn’t part of Drake’s plan. She kept the lights off, found her way around by the moonlight pouring through her windows. She raced for her weapon and cursed her attire, but there was no time to lose, changing. Swiftly she grabbed her gym bag and towel because eyes would be watching her.

  Then she stole out the door to follow them.

  She slipped from shadow to shadow through the blind spots in the surveillance Drake had described to her. Drake had designed the system to keep an eye on everyone but himself and Hafner because Hafner was paranoid, but it was primarily trained on the threats outside. She wished she’d been allowed time in the control center so she’d be certain of her footing, but if someone saw her, she’d just have to fight her way out.

  No way was she leaving him to Hafner’s mercy. He was here all alone, and though she wasn’t privy to the whole plan because he still didn’t fully trust her, she was pretty sure Hafner awake before dawn was not part of it.

  She slipped outside to follow.
>
  And smiled because Hafner might have just played right into her hands.

  * * *

  “Come with me, Cullinane. We’re taking a little ride.”

  Drake lifted an eyebrow. “Wow. I’m impressed. Up early or still going?”

  Hafner’s smile was thin. “This way.” He brandished his pistol.

  “I’ll follow in a minute. Ron called. He needs me to look at something.”

  “He did that at my behest. Keep moving.”

  “Where to?”

  “Away. That’s all you need to know.”

  “I don’t have time for games, Klaus. I have a lot to accomplish today.”

  “And I’d thought to leave you to it...until a little bird contacted me to tell me that a suspicious number of black SUVs have been spotted on the road heading in this direction.”

  His heart faltered, but he kept his expression steady. “You’re kidding.”

  “I assure you I’m not.”

  “Gotta be the feds. Damn it.”

  “My reaction exactly. I was most displeased.”

  “Okay, so let’s think this through. I’ll head to the control center, figure out how to alter our plan.”

  “No need. I have it all in hand.” He peered at Drake, head cocked as if deliberating.

  Jillian’s warning had his gut clenching. This could not be good. He would have to be on his toes to negotiate the minefield he sensed was waiting. “How’s that?”

  Hafner’s brows snapped together. “It’s my operation. Need I remind you that you work for me?”

  “No.” Drake kept his voice even. “But you put me in charge.”

  “And I can take the reins back.”

  “Why would you?”

  Hafner didn’t answer, only peered at him closely before settling back. “I must commend you, Drake. You’ve had me fooled for, what is it, two years now?” He clucked his tongue. “I admit to chagrin that I misread the signals. Something has been a little...off about you for, well, ever since dear Jillian arrived.

  “At first I simply thought you wanted to fuck her, but there’s more, isn’t there? You covered for her when she lured me to the fishing camp, didn’t you? I asked myself why that might be, but sex is not reason enough, and your outrage over her identity did not seem feigned.”