The Agent's Proposition

by Stone, Lyn

  Mercier assured her there would be a plane for them as soon as the airport in St. Thomas was clear. All available helicopters were employed in rescue efforts. She informed him that they had prisoners to deliver. He instructed her to get to the airport as soon as it was safe to travel and to wait there.

  Tess rang off, gave Cameron his phone back and resumed her task of filling their empty plastic soda bottles with water from the faucets.

  All day the three of them worked to restore what order they could to the borrowed bungalow. Tess and Cameron stopped periodically to check on their prisoner in the closet. Bulgar remained silent and sullen, apparently resigned to his fate. He wouldn’t even deign to look at them.

  “Is it all right to leave him in there?” Selim asked. “You’re sure he can’t get away?”

  Cameron shook his head as he swept mud out of the kitchen. “He’s not going anywhere until we take him to the airport.”

  “I don’t like that he’s not talking to anyone,” Selim said. “He looks mad enough to kill.”

  “Cameron and I are armed, Zee. You’re safe.” Tess wasn’t altogether comfortable in leaving Bulgar alone, either, but didn’t see a better alternative. She changed the subject to distract Selim from the worry. “I haven’t done this much housecleaning since I moved out on my own,” she said with a laugh.

  “I haven’t done this much in my entire life,” Cameron replied. “How about you, Zee?” he asked, a note of sarcasm in his voice when he used Selim’s nickname for the first time. “You ever have to lift a hand to honest work?”

  Selim held up a soggy sofa pillow and wrinkled his nose. “Unfortunately, yes. I have lived alone for some time. My father threw me out when I was only a boy.”

  “You were nineteen and grown. Didn’t see eye to eye with the old man, huh?” asked Cameron.

  Selim didn’t answer. Tess felt his sadness without even looking at him. He regretted losing his family by alienating them so badly and ignoring his father’s warnings to shape up.

  “You can fix things with your parents, Zee,” she told him. “Write to them or call. I’ll bet they’d be glad to hear from you. It’s been years now, hasn’t it?”

  “Six.” Selim tossed the spoiled pillow aside and took up another, picking leaves off it as if they were leeches. “I went too far, I think. My father is not a forgiving man.” He worked on for a few minutes. “However, I am his only son.”

  Tess sensed a smidgeon of hope in him. “Give it a shot, why don’t you? You’ll have to do time, but you’ll be in an American prison. Your parents might come to see you.”

  “No,” Selim said with a sad sigh. “It would be too embarrassing, for me as well as them. Better if I leave things as they are. I am dead to them.”

  Tess knew he wasn’t being completely honest in that. He would contact them soon; he was daring himself to do it even as they spoke. The intent was right there in his mind, plain as day. After last night’s scare, when he thought they might be blown to kingdom come at any moment, his priorities had sort of shifted.

  That made her wonder if she should take her own advice and call her own mom and dad. Maybe later, when the mission was over. Besides, she didn’t even have a phone and wasn’t about to borrow Cameron’s to make a personal call.

  But she thought about it. Her parents had loved her; she knew that. They still did, and she loved them as well. What point was there in resenting the way they had raised her? Or rather, how they had abdicated the responsibility for raising her and left her to her own devices?

  Hadn’t it worked? Hadn’t she turned out more straitlaced and self-assured than she would have if they’d exerted authority over her? They had been little more than kids themselves when they’d had her and had had no parental role models to follow. When this was all over, she would call.

  They continued their cleanup efforts until it grew late in the day. Now and then, Tess would stop, turn on the radio and get up-to-the-minute reports.

  The devastation sounded horrific despite the fact that St. Thomas had escaped a direct hit. Flooding was rampant. The winds had destroyed many buildings, and trees and power lines were down all over the island, blocking roads. Injured victims crowded the hospital, and the airport was full of people demanding to leave the island.

  They could hear helicopters buzzing overhead, further assessing the damage and performing rescues when signaled.

  When the sun was low in the sky, Cameron, their self-appointed crew chief, called a halt to the cleanup. The bungalow was free of debris, though still damp and muddy in places, which would have to wait for a washing down.

  Cameron had covered the broken windows with boards he had found stacked under the deck. These had probably been used in previous hurricanes to prevent the kind of damage sustained last night.

  “Let’s eat something before it gets dark and flip those mattresses,” he suggested. “They’ve dried out some but will be dryer on the bottom.”

  Tess swiped her forehead with the back of her hand. “I’m just happy we don’t have to spend another night in the closet, worrying about the rest of the roof flying off.”

  They slept in the bedrooms that night. In the larger bedroom Tess slept alone and Cameron made himself comfortable on a makeshift pallet of dry pillows and blankets from the closet. The two prisoners lay securely cuffed to the headboards of the twin beds in the other bedroom.

  No one slept well.

  It was mid-morning before they risked leaving for the airport as Mercier had ordered. Luckily the car had sustained nothing more than large dents and cosmetic damage. As they descended the hill, they saw and heard crews working near the roads, clearing away fallen trees with chain saws.

  Cameron followed the winding Hull Bay Road, which intersected the road leading to Lindbergh Bay. He switched on the car’s radio and tuned in the local news.

  “…winds exceeding one hundred forty miles per hour caught St. Thomas virtually unaware, leaving residents with very little time to shore up for the storm. At least fourteen deaths have been confirmed. We expect that toll to rise when further reports become available.

  “Damage to our town of Charlotte Amalie alone is still being assessed. Floodwaters are receding, but more rain is expected by nightfall.”

  The announcer continued with a plea for the inhabitants of St. Thomas to join in the rescue efforts in their immediate vicinity. He advised against any travel, but this was necessary.

  “We’re lucky we were on the north side of the island, and not right on the beach or on top of a cliff,” Cameron said.

  “Water across the road!” Tess cried, pointing as they rounded a curve.

  They seemed to be on fairly level ground, so Cameron risked driving through it. He maneuvered carefully. “It’s not far to the airport.”

  “I worry about securing Bulgar there until Mercier sends a plane,” Tess confessed.

  Cameron nodded. “Could be a problem. Maybe we can commandeer a room at a nearby hotel.”

  It began to rain again, raising the threat of further flooding on top of the awful devastation all around them.

  Though a few foundations displayed no sign of the buildings that had topped them, most of the houses they passed stood in shambles, roofs bare of half their shingles or missing altogether. Windows had been blown out, and debris littered trees and yards.

  The closer they got to the coast, the worse things were. Cars lay on their sides, upside down or smashed by uprooted trees.

  “Looks like a war zone,” Cameron observed.

  The first hotel they came to was the Rillion-Marks, a modest three-story structure, which appeared to have survived nearly intact. Inside, the lobby was half filled with noisy refugees seeking a dry place to stay and tourists clamoring for the staff to find them a way off the island.

  The clerks were harried and rumpled, as if they’d worked all night. They probably had. They seemed to be trying to vacate the lobby.

  “Get a manager’s attention and flash your badge,” Camer
on suggested to Tess. “I’ll keep an eye on these two.”

  She found the right guy, who was arguing with a batch of tourists. He was saying, “I am so sorry, but all of you must go outside! The upper floors are being evacuated! There is structural damage to the hotel, and it is not safe….”

  No sooner had he said that than screams emanated from a stairwell. Tess, trained to help rather than run from a dangerous situation, headed for the source of the screaming. The wall beside her buckled just as she reached the door marked Stairs. The door fell outward, trapping the lower half of her body beneath it.

  Panicking crowds rushed out of the stairwell, feet treading on the door that half-covered her. Tess braced herself for death beneath trampling feet and the increasing pressure of the heavy door. Intent on protecting her head, she wriggled as close to the wall as possible. Suddenly half of the door’s weight shifted as the door tilted like a seesaw, with her as the fulcrum. Irregular jolts shook her as the horde of frightened hotel guests thinned.

  The ominous creaking from above grew louder. She could hear it well above the terrified shouts and screams of the escaping hotel guests.

  “Cam?” She tried to scream his name, but it came out a near whisper. Any sound other than shallow breathing had grown nearly impossible. Maybe this was it, she thought. No energy left to struggle. “Mission’s done,” she muttered to herself. Cameron would wind it up. Grid was safe. At least she had done her part. Small comfort against the burgeoning pain and imminent burial beneath tons of concrete.

  She fought panic, deliberately distracting herself with thoughts of Cameron and the wildly romantic night of love they had shared. Sex, really, but she could pretend it was love if she wanted to. She was dying here. She could think what she damn well pleased. Her shallow breath caught on a sob.

  Can’t lose it now.

  Cam liked her, loved her, wanted her. And she could have saved him from himself, from his loneliness. Nice pipe dreams. Yeah, right. If only he could save her. Literally.

  She bit down on her fist to control the panic. Tess tasted blood and wondered if she’d drawn it with her teeth or if something inside her was crushed. She tried to move the door from on top of her, but it wouldn’t budge.

  The ceiling above her cracked, raining plaster dust on her exposed head and arms. She closed her eyes and tried to hold herself together and not give in to terror.

  Cam, where are you?

  Chapter 13

  Cameron tried to stand his ground as the mass of people panicked, pushing, shoving and screaming their way out of the building. He, Bulgar and Selim were about ten feet inside the front entrance. He jerked the prisoners to a corner on one side of the main doors and stood in front of them, shielding and guarding.

  Man, how he wanted this to be over. He wanted Tess safely out of this mess and the mission finished and nothing preventing him from making his intentions clear. What would she think of that? he wondered.

  There had been plenty of time to think while waiting out the storm. Tess made him want things he had never seriously considered before, like children, a house with a yard, a dog, holidays with family visiting. Things his mother had said she wanted for him. All of a sudden, he craved all that with Tess. His one driving ambition would be to see her happy, whatever it took. And he suspected she would be just as willing to put his needs first if he let her. Wasn’t that what real love was supposed to be? But where the heck was she, anyway?

  He searched the throng rushing past them but couldn’t see her anywhere. His shout was lost in the cacophony. He did see the manager she had gone to speak with. The man wore a look of abject terror as he attempted to skirt the edge of the crowd and get outside. A number of other red-jacketed staff were doing the same.

  The building was coming down. That was the only explanation for what was happening. He ought to get Bulgar and Selim to safety and hope that Tess had already made it out.

  But Tess would not have gone without them. No way. She was still in here somewhere, maybe knocked down.

  “Tess!” he shouted again, then tried to hear a reply through the many voices around him. He thought he heard his name, but maybe it was all in his head. At any rate, he had to find her.

  He risked losing the prisoners if he did. Bulgar could escape and follow through with his threat to the power grid. Selim would surely disappear. The mission would fail. But he couldn’t abandon his partner. No, Tess was more than that. More than a partner, more than a lover. He couldn’t leave the building until he knew she wasn’t in it.

  He shoved the car key into Selim’s hand. “Zahi, take Bulgar to the car. Lock yourselves in, stay there and wait for me. Do that and I swear I’ll do everything in my power to get you the best deal possible. I have to find Tess. She might be hurt.”

  “Go!” Selim cried and grasped Bulgar by the arm, dragging him into the rush of fleeing people.

  Cameron slid along the wall, fighting the tide of bodies. It was thinning even then. Dust and debris were falling from the ceiling, and he heard creaking sounds from above. Quickly, he scanned the floor and almost immediately saw the door off its hinges. And Tess beneath it, only her head, arms and shoulders visible.

  He rushed to her, and with what seemed to take superhuman effort, he lifted the heavy door off of her. His fingers went immediately to her neck. He groaned with relief. She was alive. Strong pulse, but unconscious.

  She shouldn’t be moved, but he had no choice. They could both be crushed if they stayed. Without pausing, he lifted her in his arms and joined the last remnants of the fleeing guests of the hotel.

  Cameron rushed to the car, his breath coming in heavy gasps. He managed to get the back door open and laid Tess inside. Bulgar and Selim were not there, of course. He hadn’t really expected they would be. Later, he’d find them. For now, he had to get Tess to the hospital.

  Then he realized that Selim had the car key. Cameron thought he had locked the car, but maybe in the rush, he’d forgotten. He quickly opened the glove compartment and found the valet key, stuck it in the ignition and roared away, pressing on the horn and dodging pedestrians. In moments he was racing toward the hospital, crashing through the hastily thrown-up roadblock barriers and bouncing through open ground around fallen trees.

  The ER was a mob scene. Cameron carried Tess right up to the desk and laid her on top of it. “She was crushed by a heavy door and might have internal injuries. Please!” he begged. “Get a doctor!”

  The receptionist threw up her hands. “I’m sorry, sir, but we have to—”

  “I’m familiar with triage! She’s critical. Get a doctor for her now! I’m a federal agent. Don’t make me use my gun!” he warned.

  The receptionist gulped, eyes wide. “Bring her this way,” she said, her voice an octave higher. She pointed to the elevator. “Go up to X ray. Tell them Dr. Mellison sent you for a full-body scan.” She punched the elevator button.

  “If this is a trick to get rid of us, I’m coming back for you,” Cameron warned.

  “No! Just tell them. I’ll notify the doctor and get him to meet you up there. It’s a madhouse down here.”

  “Thanks,” Cameron muttered as he got on the elevator. The receptionist stepped in, punched the correct floor and hopped out again.

  Cameron uttered every prayer he knew on the way up, his eyes locked on Tess’s face, hoping she would open hers. “Hang on, Tess. Just stay with me.”

  She groaned and moved in his arms. “Cam…”

  “Shh. Just hang in there. We’re on our way to X ray. You’ll be fine soon, Tess. I promise you’ll be okay.”

  She blinked up at him, and one corner of her mouth quirked up. “Knew you’d come.”

  “Better believe it. Now be quiet and save your breath.”

  His heart was thumping like mad, and he felt tears threaten as they stepped off the elevator.

  A half hour later the doctor joined Cameron in the hallway outside X ray. “You’re the lady’s husband?” he asked.

  “Her par
tner. We’re here on government business. Is she going to be all right?”

  The doctor nodded. “A couple of cracked ribs and some severe bruising to her left hip and shoulder.”

  “Are you sure? There was blood on her lips. Her lungs?”

  “Are fine,” the doctor insisted. “She got the breath knocked out of her. There are bite marks on her hand, and the blood’s from that. She’ll need some bed rest for a few days and a little TLC. We’re full here. Do you have a place to take her?”

  “I do. You mean she can leave? But she was unconscious!”

  “She fainted and exhaustion took over. Her head is fine. No concussion. The tech is helping her dress, and she’ll be out in a few minutes. Here,” the doctor said, handing him a plastic bottle. “Pain meds. I doubt you can get a prescription filled with the way things are. Bring her back if she runs a high fever. A couple of degrees is nothing to worry about, though.” He gave a quick nod of dismissal and turned to leave.

  “Thank you, doctor.” Cameron sank down onto the nearest chair and buried his face in his hands. Man, what a day. He had totally abandoned the mission. Tess would be furious about that, but he had to admit he wouldn’t have done anything differently.

  The door opened, and Tess emerged on the arm of the technician. “Hey,” she said with a grimace. “Sorry to give you such a scare. I was pretty scared myself, though.” Then she looked around. “What did you do with—”

  “They’re gone,” he admitted. “I’m sorry, Tess.”

  She dropped her shoulders and let out a sigh. “I’d better notify Jack. Maybe we can find them before they get off the island.”

  “It’s been well over an hour and a half,” he said as they walked slowly to the elevator. “They’re long gone by now. Boats will be coming and going with rescue personnel. The ferry’s probably running by now. They can get off the island any number of ways.”

  “But they don’t have passports,” Tess reminded him.