Killing Time oj-1

by Cindy Gerard

  And Walker’s wife? The photos his source had pulled off the Internet for him were impressive. A woman, not a girl. His cock stirred when he thought about her… which made him smile. Maybe if he’d called on the lovely Mrs. Walker to keep him company tonight, the outcome would have been entirely different.

  What better test for them? The ultimate bow to his will? He didn’t imagine Dan would like it much. But it was early. He’d give it time. And in the meantime, he’d savor the possibility.

  New blood. That’s what the Walkers brought to the table. He’d already placed a call to Hill, who had backed up Walker’s story. Barry had surprised him by going as far as suggesting he consider placing Walker in an officer’s position. His former second in command’s opinion held a lot of sway. He had a good feeling about Walker, but it was way too soon to think along those lines. So far, everything Walker had told him checked out. So it looked promising… but it was far too early to decide if he was trustworthy. He’d see how it went.

  At the moment, he had bigger irons in the fire than vetting new recruits. He expected a call any day now. And he was ready. If he pulled this off, he might actually pack it in and buy that place in Fiji. Or maybe he’d go back to Thailand. The women there knew how to take care of a man.

  Even an old one, he thought again with disgust when he realized he had to take a piss. Again.

  Fucking prostate.

  • • •

  First light had broken through the thin curtains on the windows a little over an hour ago. Mike had been awake for most of that hour. Awake and watching Eva. She was still asleep beside him, her hair fanned around her head on the pillow that was bathed in a soft morning glow. Awake and thinking.

  About a lot of things. Like how she was so stunningly gorgeous, sometimes he had to remind himself to breathe when he looked at her. Like how athletic she was in bed, and how she totally abandoned herself to a dedicated and enthusiastic giving and receiving of pleasure.

  About life’s little habit of lobbing wrenches into plans and laying waste to the best of intentions. God’s truth, he had not intended to make love to her—which didn’t explain why he’d tossed the condoms into his duffel at the last minute, but that was beside the point. He’d been a Boy Scout. Still swore by the Be Prepared motto. So sue him. He was damn glad he’d raided Gabe’s supply.

  As for his plans… he didn’t have any. Zip. Nada. Not one single solitary idea of what happened next in his life other than putting his pants on in the morning and flying his Beechcraft wherever the wind blew him. Until she’d come along, he’d been fine with that. No plan, no pressure. No problem. And no way to live a life.

  Eva had clarified that for him. Not only with her very vocal—and spot-on—assessment of all his failings, but with her fire and determination. Her fearlessness. Her honor. She’d been right to look for answers. And she’d been right about him. He’d checked out. For eight years he’d been killing time. Taking up space. And it was wrong.

  He owed her for that awakening. Regardless of how this turned out, because of her he wasn’t ever going to be content to drift again. Or to settle again. He needed to be the man he’d once planned on being. He needed to be a man worthy of a woman like her.

  If she’d have him.

  When this was over, he was sure as hell going to find out.

  So yeah, he thought, smiling when she stirred and wrinkled her nose and curled onto her side, tucking her hands, prayerlike, beneath her cheek. Maybe giving in to her had been a good thing.

  Well, duh. Yeah. She’d blown his mind. All that passion. All that fire. All that vulnerability that she opened herself up to.

  Yeah. A very good thing.

  But more than that, he’d needed a catalyst to help him focus on the task at hand. She’d provided it last night. There was no conceivable way he wasn’t going to get her out of here alive. Just like there was no way he was leaving without getting the goods on Lawson to expose the sadistic bastard for what he was.

  But even more than he needed vindication, she needed closure about what happened to Ramon. As much as she’d given him last night, as much as she’d opened herself up to him physically, he didn’t have a chance under the sun of an emotional commitment from her until she got what she’d come for. The chance to clear her dead husband’s name.

  He wondered what it said about him that he was jealous of a dead man. Wondered what it said that despite his best effort, he still had the urge to wake her slowly and make love to her one more time. He rose instead, careful not to disturb her, and stepped into his pants. He couldn’t fault her for wanting to know about Ramon. He thought it was admirable. Heroic. And bullheaded stubborn, which was another trait about her that he respected and yes, damn it, loved.

  The idea still made him a little light-headed.

  Which was why he decided to table any discussion about love and future for the duration. Grabbing his shirt from the floor, he dragged it over his head and walked over to the door.

  The first thing he noticed when he looked through the multipaned window was their Jeep parked in front of the cabin. The second thing that registered was that Wagoner’s truck was gone. After checking out as much of the perimeter as he could, he was pretty much convinced that no one had taken Wagoner’s place on guard duty.

  Interesting. He tried the door—and got another surprise when it creaked open with only a gentle nudge.

  “What do you suppose that means?”

  He turned around at the sound of Eva’s voice. She propped herself up on an elbow; her hair tumbled over the left side of her face in a tangle of silk and trailed down her shoulder, the ends kissing the tip of her left breast that the slipping sheet revealed.

  “The unlocked door?” He crossed to the bed and planted a hip beside hers. “I’d say it means that Lawson liked what Gabe and the guys planted about us when he did his cyber-snoop and put out feelers to Hill. The Jeep’s parked out front and Wagoner’s gone.”

  She lifted her hand to scoop all that glorious hair away from her face and it was all he could do not to lean into her… maybe start nibbling on that pale, delicate flesh on the inside of her upper arm… or maybe lower his head and take a pouting, pretty nipple in his mouth, then lay her back, spread her thighs, and find the heart of her again with his tongue and suck until she screamed his name.

  “Seriously?”

  His eyes must have glazed over because it took a moment to focus. When he did, it was clear he’d been caught.

  “Sorry.”

  She pulled the sheet up over her breasts and glanced pointedly at his lap. “No, you’re not.”

  He laughed. “Okay, I’m not. But if you have any compassion at all, you’ll slip into a little something less provocative.”

  “Lucky for you, that can be arranged. Hand me my gunnysack.”

  He was about to double back on his promise to leave her alone when a knock sounded at the door.

  Eva slid back down into the bed and pulled the covers up to her chin.

  He stood and walked to the door. The same young woman who had brought their dinner waited on the other side, her head lowered, eyes downcast.

  Like a good little UWD devotee, Mike played superior male and didn’t address her. He waited in silence for her to speak.

  “You are to join the general in the communal dining hall for breakfast. Your wife is invited, too,” she added with a quick peek into the cabin before lowering her head again. “It’s the large building three down from the meeting hall. He’s expecting you by seven.”

  “What time is it now?” Mike demanded briskly.

  “Six fifteen, sir.”

  “Thank General Lawson for the invitation and tell him we’ll be there.” He shut the door in her face.

  “I’m guessing your mom would be ashamed of the way you treated her,” Eva said, hiking herself up in the bed.

  “I’m ashamed.” Mike lifted a shoulder. “When in Rome is great in theory but in practice, it sucks.”

  “Yeah,”
she said with a grim nod. “It does. I hate the way they treat women.”

  “Then let’s do something about it. Nothing says we can’t do double duty.”

  She looked skeptical.

  “We bring Lawson down. We destroy the movement. These women can get on with their lives again. You’ll never convince me they knew what they were getting into, and now they’re trapped.”

  “I hope you’re right… about changing their lives when this is over.”

  “It all starts today. Come on.” He grabbed her skirt and blouse from the hook where she’d hung them last night. “Get dressed and let’s head for the showers. Nothing like ice-cold water to clear the mind for battle.”

  She put on her bra, shrugged into the blouse, and started working the buttons. “You think there’s going to be a battle?”

  “Just with myself. It took everything I had in me yesterday to keep from ripping into Lawson.”

  “The first shock of seeing him face-to-face is behind you now. You should be able to rein it in better today.”

  “And what about you?” He watched her shimmy into the long skirt. “You haven’t met him yet. You going to be able to handle it?”

  She kept her head down, messing with buttons and the zipper. “I’ll handle it.”

  Yeah, he thought as she grabbed her tennis shoes and, barefoot, headed for the door. He had no doubt that she would handle it just fine.

  • • •

  Even before Eva stepped into the dining hall—a respectable distance behind Mike for show—she’d suspected her patience would be tested to the limit. One look at the layout and activity in the room the size of a basketball court, however, and she knew she’d underestimated the magnitude of her irritation.

  The women who weren’t cooking or serving or clearing dishes sat with the children at long rows of tables on the left side of the room, eating breakfast. The men sat in clusters around large round tables at the other side. All of the conversation—save for the little boys mixing it up and laughing—came from the men. The women and girls were silent. As soon as a woman finished eating, she immediately rose and started helping the others. Except for the toddlers, even the little girls rose from the table like robots and started helping with the chores.

  She followed Mike, who had apparently spotted Lawson at the table at the head of the room. She felt her stomach tighten as they neared the head table and knew she had to get a grip, to school her expression into one of blind acceptance and bear it.

  Lawson stood as they approached and extended his hand to Mike. “Welcome to my table.”

  “It’s a pleasure, sir. Thanks for the invitation.”

  Eva was grateful that she was expected to stand in silence, her head lowered, so Lawson couldn’t see the hatred in her eyes.

  This man was responsible for Ramon’s death.

  She made herself pull back from the thought. She didn’t have the luxury of indulging her hatred. That could come later.

  Lawson introduced Dan to the men sharing his table, tossing around their titles. Executive officer, intelligence, supply, operations, security officers. Lawson had structured his army after the U.S. military model. He’d even anointed himself with the title of general though he had barely enough men to form a company.

  “My wife, Maria,” Mike said as if he were presenting a piece of meat for inspection.

  She had to look at Lawson now or he’d consider it disrespectful. The predatory look in his eyes made her want to recoil with revulsion, but she kept it together.

  “Dan tells me you’re an attorney.”

  She swallowed. “Yes, sir.”

  “Licensed in Idaho?”

  “Yes,” she answered again. “I made certain of that before we left California.”

  “That’s very good to know. Should we have need for legal counsel, we may call upon your expertise.”

  “I would be honored.”

  He motioned to one of the serving women. “See to it that Mrs. Walker has something to eat, then give her a tour of the compound and assign her to a unit and a work detail.”

  Like a dutiful wife, she thanked Lawson, cast Mike a subservient glance, and followed the woman who had gotten the task of breaking her in.

  And so her UWD indoctrination began.

  29

  It was after seven p.m. when the door to the cabin opened and Eva walked in. It was on the tip of Mike’s tongue to ask, “And how was your day, dear?” but one look at her flushed face and angry eyes told him she wouldn’t appreciate the joke. He knew they’d worked her like a mule.

  “You would be wise not to talk to me right now.” She tugged off the bonnet and hung it on a peg by the door.

  “Way ahead of you on that one.”

  Poor baby. Even though the uniform made it difficult to distinguish one woman from another—part of Lawson’s plan to break them down and strip them of their individuality—Mike had managed to catch glimpses of her on and off throughout the day. Once he’d seen her lugging a basket of wet laundry to a clothesline. A couple hours later, he’d spotted her in the garden, weeding. That was around two p.m. The sun had been brutal. The last time he’d seen her was in the communal dining hall. She’d been clearing tables after dinner, which explained why she was a full hour behind him getting back to the cabin.

  Her hair was plastered to her head, damp with sweat. Her clothes were dusty and spotted with what he suspected was food from her work in the dining room.

  She looked exhausted and irritated and beautiful, and he couldn’t stop himself from walking across the room, taking her in his arms, and hugging her close.

  “All in all, you look pretty good for a beast of burden.” He dropped a kiss on the top of her head.

  “I need a shower,” she said on a weary breath and leaned back against him. “Then I’ll be ready to talk.”

  “I’ll walk you there,” he offered even though he’d already had his shower.

  She shook her head. “I need a little alone time, okay? I’ve got a lot to process.”

  He got it. “Sure. Take all the time you need. Here.” He squeezed her shoulders, then reached for a stack of clean clothes. “Someone dropped by with these. I even got my uniform.” He spread his arms wide to show his camo pants and T-shirt, WALKER stenciled on the breast pocket.

  She stared at his bare feet. “No soldier boots?”

  He grinned. “They’re under the bed.”

  “And did you have fun playing war games all day?”

  “Thought you didn’t want to talk yet.”

  “You’re right. I don’t.” She snagged the clean clothes and a towel from the chest and headed out the door.

  It was almost dark by the time she got back. Not quite as pissed, but still exhausted. Still quiet. But looking a little more in control.

  As soon as she closed the door behind her, she stripped out of the confining blouse and skirt and into the T-shirt and boxers she’d washed out during her morning shower.

  “Much better,” she said on a sigh and crawled onto the bed. She plumped a pillow behind her back, crossed her legs, and breathed deep. “So… how was your day, dear?”

  He grinned at their like minds.

  “Interesting. I got access to some of the workings of the camp. Because I’m good with engines and electrical—”

  “You are?”

  “I might have fudged a bit, but I’m hoping we won’t be around long enough for them to find out. I’m also a crack shot—that, at least, I can back up. Anyway, they showed me their mini power plant. Besides a few gasoline-powered generators for emergencies, the camp gets its electricity from the local electrical cooperative—as I suspected, stolen by splicing into rural power lines. Since the electric company doesn’t have a chance of patrolling more than every other year or so, they’re pretty much home free. It’s located at the south end of the compound. It’s also stocked with some large propane tanks.”

  “All critical information.”

  He sat down beside her, propped
his own pillow behind his back against the headboard, and stretched his legs out in front of him, wanting to touch her but knowing she needed her space. “Yep. If we have to make a break for it, we can knock out their power source, blow the propane tanks, and at least make it confusing for them to search for us.”

  “Got it. What else?”

  “Lawson’s office is the camp’s command center. Doubles as the surveillance and communication room. That’s where I first met him yesterday. He took me back today, had me sit in on his weekly podcast so he could impress me while he preached to the faithful and spread the word. The sonofabitch clearly sees himself as the zealot enforcer god they all worship.”

  “Sounds like you’re in like Flynn.”

  Because he couldn’t help himself, he lifted a lock of hair away from her face, played absently with the ends. “Not exactly. He hasn’t turned over our handguns or the phone, so apparently he sees me as enough of a question mark that he’s not yet ready to hand me keys to the kingdom. He’s short a training specialist, too. I’m going to convince him I’m the man for that position but that’ll take a little more time. Just like it will take a little more time to finagle a tour of the armory. I might have to resort to a sneak-and-peek to see what they’ve got tucked away in that building.”

  “You’re going out tonight?”

  Mike bent a knee and rested his forearm on top of it. “Lots of cloud cover. A little wind. Sounds like good conditions.”

  “You want company?”

  She was so tired, she could barely keep her eyes open. Yet she was ready to go if he asked her. “I think this is a solo gig. Just to get the feel of the place.

  “Hey,” he said before she could lodge a protest. “I made a friend today.” His grin told her he was pretty pleased with himself.

  “You and Simmons bond over bullets, did you?”

  His grin widened. “Nah, I think I burned that bridge. Guy by the name of Beaver. Even has the buck teeth to go with it. He’s not much more than a kid—physically or mentally. Exactly the type Lawson likes to mold. Only Bucky has a little weakness. He’s pretty much in awe of me for doing time for that B&E. Sees me as a real badass.”