They sped north in seamless darkness for the next hour. Simon’s sideways glances indicated that he wanted to talk to her, but the engine noise rendered conversation impossible. Just as well.
As a denser shadow loomed into view, he said, “I’ll slow just enough to lure them into the trap. My next and final move in this game, I hope.” He eased the throttle back.
The fishing boat sailed closer and more bullets zinged at them. The shots went wild because Simon was motoring in free-form zigzag.
Crack. Crack. Crack. Bullets slammed into the transom.
“They figured out my trajectory. Pray they don’t hit the gas tank. Where the hell is Thorne?” Simon jerked the steering wheel to starboard, spraying a wide arc of plankton-lighted saltwater with their turn.
From around the island’s back side raced two U.S. Coast Guard cutters. Blinding spotlights homed in on Roszca’s boat. Simon steered away, giving the authorities right of way as they flanked the fishing boat. In short order, the fishing boat was out-maneuvered and surrounded.
Roszca and the others were taken into custody by uniformed men and women.
“Check,” Simon said.
***
Everyone gathered on the afterdeck of one of the Coast Guard cutters as dawn spilled its first orange-and-pink rays across the turquoise waters.
Simon was just finishing briefing Thorne on their narrow escape from Isla Alta. “Roszca’s other two thugs are stranded. I bet they’ll radio for help before long. You’ll be able to pick them up too.”
Thorne made a note of it on his tablet. “Don’t imagine Wharton’s too happy with you, trashing his yacht like that.”
Simon glanced over at the former colonel, handcuffed and surrounded by burly Coast Guard sailors. Others guarded Roszca and Ivan. “Janna gets the credit. She made one hell of a diversion.”
In a few minutes, he joined Janna and Yelena at the starboard rail. Her swimsuit now dry and her hair a bright halo, Janna had never looked more beautiful.
In spite of the tropical temperatures, the Cleatian woman hugged herself as though cold. Pale and with a pinched mouth, she avoided her former lover’s furious looks. She was lucky to have Janna for an ally.
“The other cutter will hang around Isla Alta waiting to see if Sergiy and Stepan figure out a way to leave the island,” he said. “This one’ll head back to Gitmo with the prisoners.” As he spoke, the second cutter began a slow turn.
“And Yelena?” Janna asked.
“Thorne was vague. He said to hold on about that.”
Janna staggered as the departing boat’s wake rocked them, and he caught her.
“Feels good having you in my arms again,” he murmured in her ear. They’d take time for each other once the danger was past. He had a lot to tell her. And a lot to show her.
“Thanks. I’m okay now.” She gave him a thin smile and eased out of his arms.
Bad timing. He hoped that was the reason. She was too tense, too uptight. “Think I could buy that speedboat cheap once the government’s done with it?”
She looked relieved at his change of topic. Not a good sign. “You abandoning your precious horses for boating?”
He laughed. “Just adding to my stable. New experiences are broadening, enriching.” His heart thumped as his implications registered. “Enlightening. They make a man see what’s really important. Janna—”
“You have no right to hold me!” Roszca’s imperious tones cut Simon off. Red-faced and bulldog-belligerent, he was haranguing a poker-faced Thorne. “The United States has no authority over me. I demand you release me and my employee. I am a Cleatian citizen. This is an outrage.”
“We have jurisdiction, don’t we?” Janna asked.
“Yeah. I don’t know why Thorne’s letting Roszca rant.”
“No,” Yelena murmured, as if she feared Roszca’s release.
“As you know, Mr. Roszca,” Thorne cut in, “my government can charge you with a long list of crimes. But we are not the first. As for our authority, that will not be a problem.”
As he finished speaking, a man stepped on deck with the cutter’s captain. Tall, silver-haired and distinguished, he wore a gray-and-red military uniform emblazoned with three stars. A general.
Simon heard Yelena gasp. Breaking away from the rail, she ran toward the newcomer.
“Papa!” she exclaimed as she ran into his open arms.
“Mr. Roszca, I believe you know General Nikolai Azov. Your capture has been a joint mission of our two governments.” A tiny smile lifted one corner of Thorne’s mouth.
The international arms broker’s complexion had blanched to the color of bleached bone.
“Check and mate,” Simon said.
***
Assistant Director Ramsey tapped the file folder on his desk. “At Thorne’s request, he has joined the team intercepting Roszca’s uranium. For now, the courier has vanished. I hope that op ends as well as yours. Excellent work. My congratulations.”
DARK had stopped two of the uranium bidders, but only temporarily since they had no evidence. Stepan and Sergiy had joined their boss, Wharton and Ivan as guests of the U.S. government.
“Thanks.” Simon said. “No sweat with the uranium. You can count on Thorne.”
Janna hadn’t seen Simon since Roszca’s capture two weeks earlier. She and Thorne returned to D.C. while Simon remained at Guantanamo Bay to interrogate their prize. The only evidence of his injured lip was a small scab, and he was back in form in old jeans and his pirate T-shirt. Except he had shaved. His jaw was smooth. An anomaly.
She dreaded the coming confrontation with him, yet she needed his moral support for what she planned to say to Ramsey. Her stomach churned, and she inhaled slowly.
Ramsey held up the memo beside the file. “I do have one question. What is this message from the quartermaster at Guantanamo Bay about damage to the pier?”
Simon slouched lower in his chair. “I brought the speedboat in a tad too fast. It’s just a few splinters. Sir.”
In spite of her riotous nerves, a smile skated across her mouth. Simon had underestimated the power of the speedboat and rammed the pier. A few splinters? More like a few pilings would need replacement.
Her amusement disappeared when Ramsey turned to her.
“We’re all lucky that Gabriel Harris passed no secrets on to Viktor Roszca. Thorne’s assumption that he was undercover simplifies the cleanup. You understand that DARK will confirm that story, Tech Officer Harris?”
“Thank you, sir. I’m more grateful than you can know that it’s over.” Trembling inside, she lifted a white cardboard box from her lap and placed it on his desk. “DARK should have these.”
Ramsey removed the lid and unfolded the tissue paper. “But … those are the medals awarded posthumously to your husband. You should keep these in remembrance of him.”
Janna stood, shoulders straight, chin up. “Do whatever you want with them. I want nothing of Gabriel Harris’s. I have scars to remember him by. He beat me and made marriage a prison. At last, I’m free of him.”
She turned and walked out of the room.
Chapter 28
SIMON FOUND JANNA staring out the window in an empty office. All the muscles in his body taut, he’d rushed to find her before she disappeared. She wore a blue jacket from one of her nun outfits, but over a short skirt. Still professional, but sexy. At least, a man could see some leg.
Crossing to her, he wrapped his arms around her stiff shoulders. “I was never more proud of you. That was the bravest thing I’ve ever seen.”
“Not really, but thanks.” She leaned into him. “You were right. Telling someone the truth has lifted giant boulders off my chest. I told Yelena first. That’s why she agreed to leave the island with me. I’ll discuss it with Dr. French as soon as I finish with the DARK shrink.”
“How’re you doing with that? Living with the deaths of those men?” He kissed the top of her head, where a streak o
f buttery hair met caramel.
Her shoulders lifted on a sigh. “It’s tough, but I know I had no choice. Getting you out of there was driving me.”
“I do appreciate it, sweetheart. I’d have ended up like the cook in that pit.” Holding her restored his sanity, but something about the stiff way she held herself sent nerves skittering across his nape. He needed her, but he might not have time to figure out how to tell her. “You need to get away, chill out and adjust. I talked Ramsey into a few days off for the both of us. We can go to my cabin and relax, do some riding. If you want.”
She turned in his arms and looked at him with solemn eyes rimmed with violet shadows. She wasn’t sleeping. Back to her old fears and doubts.
“I don’t think so.” She shook her head. “Simon, I know I said I’d try a relationship, but it won’t work. I’m sorry.”
“Hell, this is about my using Yelena as bait. I didn’t tell you sooner because I wasn’t sure it would work.” He’d known then he’d blown it, but his mouth ran away unbridled. As it might now if he wasn’t careful.
“You didn’t trust me?” She backed away from him. Her chin trembled, her confrontational tone only bravado.
He scrubbed a hand across his nape. “I trust you more than I trust myself. My first plan was a bust. I didn’t want to go two for two. Hell, what man wants to look like a failure to the woman he loves?”
Her eyes rounded like gray moons. “Loves?”
“I couldn’t put the word to how I felt until those muscle-bound Cleatians pounded it into me. Hell, I’m not saying it right.”
An encouraging smile curved her lips. “I think you’re saying it just right. Go on.”
He would burst if he didn’t get this out. “When I thought I’d never see you again, when I thought I’d die or you would, I realized what’s important. I love you, and I think — I hope — you love me. You’re the missing pieces of me.”
“Are you sure?” Her brow knit. “What makes you think I won’t leave you like your mom or Doc or Summer?”
Warmth infused his chest at her insight. “You gave me the reason by breaking rules to rescue me. I ordered you to leave. Thorne ordered you to leave. But you didn’t leave me. Instead, you stormed in like an avenging angel. I’ll cherish the time we have together and count myself luckier than most.”
He’d taken the leap. But would she? He had to force himself to breathe over renewed fear.
“I do love you, Simon. I think I’ve always loved you. That’s why I can’t do a slow see-where-it-leads affair. It’s tearing me apart. I was never so scared sticking to my rules.”
“Me too.” He lifted her trembling chin with one finger and willed her to absorb his faith and trust. “Your rules and mine kept us safe, but safe for what? A life with you, no matter how short or how long, is way better than an empty life. I’ll make mistakes, but I won’t ever hurt you or try to control you.”
“I trust you on that. When I came close to losing you, my heart knew to trust you. I knew you were risking injury—” she touched his jaw with the tips of her fingers “—even your life to buy me time. But without my rules, what happens?”
“We make it up as we go along. I can’t do a slow relationship either. What is it you geeks say? ‘When the going gets tough—’ ”
“ ‘Upgrade.’ But what—” She shook her head in puzzlement.
“Yeah, upgrade. I want to upgrade. I know I’m facing long odds. My brain wonders what a diplomat’s brainy daughter would see in a streetwise nothing. But my heart tells me to run for the roses. I want it all.”
Before Janna could register his meaning, his mouth locked onto hers. All her circuits blew. Her temperature soared to a tropical level. A long, deep thrill slid through her, and she clung to him as he devoured and demanded all that she was.
When the fog cleared, she knew her answer. And new and different details came into focus. The light scent of an aftershave. Smoothness where there’d been stubble. She laid a palm against his jaw. “Simon, why did you shave?”
He grinned. “Wouldn’t want you to have perpetual beard burn. But your parents might disapprove, clean-shaven or not.”
“Their judgment doesn’t count. They thought Gabe was perfect. You, on the other hand, are honorable and kind. You don’t need to dominate others or grandstand to be a man. You respect me and admire my intelligence.”
He grinned. “I depend on that sexy brain.”
“See what I mean?” In so many ways, he showed her that he’d be her partner, not her lord and master.
“So what do you say? I’m dyin’ here.” His brown eyes, puppy-dog soulful and irresistible, pleaded his case.
All her fears evaporated — deleted, dumped, wiped clean. Her heart swelled, the wounded places healed and filled with love. “You’ve taught me that sometimes rules are prisons, that sometimes you have to break the rules. A life with you is worth tossing out all my rules.”
“So maybe you’ll come with me to the cabin after all? I need your geek wizardry.”
The devil in his con man’s eyes warned her, but she had to ask. “Okay, I’ll bite. What for?”
“So you can turn my software into hardware.”
“Ooh, I should’ve seen that groaner coming. I’m afraid you’ll need extensive attention to your circuits.”
His kiss turned her groan into a sigh of pleasure. Her heart soared, free of its bondage of rules, free to love, free to live. She gave herself up to the joy of loving and being loved.
Please Enjoy this Excerpt from
Dark Vengeance
(DARK Series, Book 4)
DARK VENGEANCE - Chapter 1
JACK THORNE STRAINED for a bead on his enemy.
The savage hatred always coiled in his belly stretched and sharpened its claws in anticipation. Only sheer will and concentration on his goal kept his hand steady and his expression impassive.
He adjusted the lens focus and swung the view beyond the rows of grapevines and ancient lime trees, across the flower beds, until he acquired the mellowed redbrick villa.
There. The damn murderer lived in there.
If only he had Sebastian Vadim in the crosshairs of a rifle scope instead of Leica seven-by-forty-two binoculars. Patience, patience, he mouthed. Duty for DARK first. The Domestic Antiterrorism Risk Corps needed Vadim’s contraband and information.
As the new addition to this Nuclear Interdiction Task Force, Jack had to do his part. Intelligence from Interpol had prompted the American and Italian anti-terrorism agencies to cooperate on this mission — to find and confiscate a stash of weapons-grade uranium. First they had to nail Sebastian Vadim for possession.
Afterward, Jack’s chance would come.
He’d waited five years to exact vengeance. Five years of investigating alias after alias, lead after lead. A few days more would make no difference.
“Nobody there but the cook and one bodyguard,” drawled Jack’s companion beneath the grapevine’s sheltering leaves. “The other security mug — the Italian — drove him and the woman somewhere before you got here. De Carlo and a couple DARK operatives tailed them.”
Jack’s tension deflated. He lowered the binoculars and sank prone onto the rich Italian soil. He drew a deep breath of air spiced with ripening grapes and sun-heated loam.
Leaning on one elbow, he eyed the other DARK officer, who reclined with his frayed cloth cap shading his face. Jack also wore a work shirt and pants — cover as farm labor if anyone at the villa spotted the task-force surveillance team in the vineyard. “Any idea where Vadim went?”
Matt Leoni affected a shrug and popped two sticks of chewing gum in his mouth to join the wad distorting his cheek.
Three others — Italian cops — were strung out along the same vine row but close enough for conversation without electronics.
When no one else replied, Leoni said, “Sometimes he takes the babe sightseeing in Venice. Sometimes they go to Treviso or the beach at Jesolo for
a long lunch. Don’t expect them back until three or four. De Carlo will alert us.”
De Carlo, a commissario, an investigative officer was the task-force leader. “And Vadim hasn’t done anything suspicious? Contacted anyone?”
“Nothing that would give us an excuse to move on him.” The man unscrewed the cap on his bottled water and drank.
“Wiretap?”
Leoni roused himself enough to shake his head. Jack suspected he was part of the task force mainly because he spoke fluent Italian. “Local polizia put up a roadblock of red tape. Vadim’s been a good citizen so far, spending liberally and living peacefully.”
“Hereabouts, he’s a wealthy business consultant,” another officer added. “They have no idea he’s a major player in the diamond-smuggling trade. We’re not ready to share intelligence with them.”
Leoni chuckled. “Just for grins, I tried to wire in anyway, but Vadim has a scrambler. With his black-market connections, he can get anything.”
The video officer spat into the dirt. “He will not get away this time. If the uranium charge does not stick, Interpol now has given us enough evidence on the smuggling.”
“For now, we wait.” Jack had read all that and more in the Interpol report, but impatience had goaded him to ask in case more intel had come in. He laid the binoculars beside him on the ground.
At one o’clock the sun floated high among three puffy clouds. Temperatures climbed to a soporific sauna, incubating the cultivated vines and the watchers camped among their shady rows. “Unusual for early June,” said one of the Italians on a yawn. Everyone nodded in a doze.
Except Jack.
Downtime or not, his mind dwelled on his quarry. He didn’t need the CO’s report to know the relevant events.
The uranium courier’s trail had disappeared after Venice, but his kinship with Vadim was no coincidence. When De Carlo had interviewed Vadim, he denied any contact with his cousin and invited the officers to search the villa. They found nothing suspicious. Other than Vadim and his bodyguards, a young American woman resided there. An overly courteous Vadim had introduced her as his houseguest.
Dark Rules (The DARK Files Book 3) Page 22