by Bruhns, Nina
They found the car, and Darcy got behind the wheel. “Now comes the fun part,” she said with an irreverent grin.
“You are utterly insane,” DeAnne muttered, but without a bit of heat. Truth be told, she was terrified and nervous as hell . . . but she was also excited. This was way better than composing dry, ineffective, diplomatic memos.
She was actually rescuing four people. Talk about an adrenaline rush.
As much as she hated to admit it, she was starting to understand the appeal, and how it could so easily become addictive to a man . . .
Although there was never a good reason for abandoning your wife and child. For that, she would never forgive her father.
Darcy stuck the GPS onto the windshield and took off, following a circuitous route to the back-alley hotel, just to be sure they weren’t being followed. Along the way they spotted several PLA jeeps roaming the streets like sharks. They smiled pleasantly at every one of them.
“Jeez Louise,” Darcy said. “They are really out in force.”
DeAnne clung to the strap of the duffel bag in her lap holding the guns, making sure the zipper was down. “What do we do if they stop us?” she asked nervously.
Darcy cut her a look. “I’m relying on your diplomatic skills. But when in doubt, shoot first and ask questions later.” DeAnne opened her mouth to protest, and Darcy added, “With the stun guns, of course.”
DeAnne let out a breath. “Of course.” Thank God for those. The whole international-incident-leading-to-World-War-Three thing weighed heavily on her mind, to be honest. She did not want to go down in history as the new Archduke Ferdinand.
Especially since he’d died.
“Then why did we bring the shotguns?” she asked.
“It’s always good to have options. If it comes down to us or them, we definitely want it to be us.”
DeAnne still struggled with the idea of pulling an actual trigger on a fellow human being . . . but if they were shooting at her, she could probably get past her aversion.
Following the GPS arrow, Darcy crept the car past the rundown hotel, and DeAnne peered up through the window to the second floor where one of the guys was supposed to be watching for them.
She spotted a tall, dark man standing at a flyspecked window, mostly obscured by a dingy curtain. When he saw their car slowly passing by, he flicked the curtain back for a moment. She’d only seen Nikolai Romanov from a distance that one time just after she and Kip were “kidnapped,” but the man looked like him. She lifted her hand in greeting . . .
Just as another large figure filled the window. He leaned his forearm on the glass pane, his other hand gripping a white band across his midsection.
Her heart stopped, then took off and soared like a dove in flight.
Kip!
Her hand reached for him, her fingers splayed against the car window.
His face was grim, but when he spotted her in the car he straightened and his expression went rigid, first with dismay, then with pain.
“You didn’t tell him I was coming,” she said.
“Not exactly,” Darcy admitted. “No sense worrying him.”
They drove past the hotel and were about to turn into the alley behind it when they saw another PLA jeep coming in the opposite direction. Darcy kept driving.
“Crap,” she muttered. “They are freaking everywhere.”
This time, the soldiers in the jeep turned in their seats to watch their progress. Uh-oh. Despite the black wigs, she and Darcy were obviously Westerners. And this was not exactly a tourist district.
“We may have trouble,” she said.
Darcy kept checking the rearview mirror. “Spread out the map over that duffel,” she instructed as she whipped the GPS off the windshield and stuck it in the bag.
DeAnne snapped open the thin roadmap on her lap, as if she were studying it, sliding the duffel onto the floor, but still within reach.
To her horror, in the side mirror she saw the jeep do a tight U-turn and speed after them. DeAnne’s pulse skyrocketed.
“God damn it,” Darcy swore. “Okay, just be cool and follow my lead.”
The jeep zoomed after them, catching up, and drawing even. Brandishing their weapons, the soldiers indicated they should stop the vehicle.
Darcy stopped.
None of the men spoke English, and DeAnne wasn’t about to let them know she spoke Mandarin. They were speaking some kind of dialect she wasn’t familiar with, but she caught enough of it to understand they were very suspicious of two Western women in this section of town.
Darcy was amazing. Using sign language and a lot of smiles and deprecating laughter, she pointed at the map and showed them where they wanted to go—an ethnic tourist zone somewhat nearby—and said they’d gotten hopelessly lost. She was so convincing even DeAnne believed her story. She just sat there and nodded and kept a big smile plastered on her face . . . and her trembling fingers gripped in her lap.
As the lead guy showed them the way to the tourist zone, the other soldiers looked into the backseat and asked Darcy to pop the trunk, which she did.
Apparently they passed muster, and the head guy finally indicated they could go. Which they quickly did, waving and calling their thank-yous. Darcy carefully followed their directions. At least for a few blocks.
DeAnne let out a shuddering sigh of relief. “Oh, my God. I thought I was going to have a heart attack.”
Darcy laughed. “That was nothing. You need to toughen up if you’re going to be in this business, girl.”
DeAnne looked at her aghast. “If that’s what you think, you’re delusional.”
The other woman shrugged. “Well, if you’re going to be with Kip . . .”
DeAnne folded the map to give her hands something to do. “I could never do this for a living,” she said. “And even if I wanted to, Kip isn’t interested in a ‘be with’ kind of relationship. He’s more of a no strings guy.”
“So you say. But I’ve seen the way he looks at you. He wants to be with you. Be with be with. He may just not have admitted it to himself yet.”
DeAnne refused to let Darcy’s words give her hope. She had decided to tell him how she felt and accept whatever part of himself he would give her. She desperately longed for more than no strings. But she didn’t dare hope.
“Anyway,” she said, swallowing down the twisting knot of emotion stuck in her throat, “I’m not cut out for this kind of life.”
“If you say so.” Darcy took a quick right turn, and doubled back toward the hotel. “Keep your eyes peeled. We don’t want to run into those soldiers again. I got the distinct feeling they didn’t believe a word I said.”
They made it back, and turned into the narrow, garbage-laden alley behind the hotel, driving slowly up it.
“Do you see them?” DeAnne asked, searching for any sign of the men. They were supposed to meet them back here. It would be too risky for a woman alone to enter the hotel. That would be an instant red flag to anyone manning the desk.
“There. Behind that Dumpster.”
DeAnne spotted Nikolai Romanov hailing them. Wow. His face looked awful—full of cuts and bruises. One eye was nearly swollen shut. She tried not to think about what he’d gone through to get that way.
Darcy sped up and pulled in next to the overflowing garbage container they were hiding behind, then leapt from the car, rushing straight for Bobby Lee Quinn. She didn’t quite throw herself into his arms, but almost—just mindful of his wounded thigh. She gave him a quick but passionate kiss. “Hey, baby. Ready to go home?”
He gave her a smile that DeAnne could feel the heat of all the way to where she was standing. She’d gotten out of the car, too.
“Hell, yeah, baby. Get us out of this dump, would you?”
Darcy kissed him again. “By the way. How about a May wedding?”
Bobby Le
e looked momentarily nonplussed. “But it’s May now.”
Darcy beamed back at him. “Yeah. I know.”
Alex cut into the happy scene with a groan. “Okay, you lovebirds. Enough of this shit. Can we get the fuck out of here, please?”
The pair broke apart and DeAnne came to with a start. She’d been watching them with such a powerful mixture of happiness for them and pure, unadulterated envy that she had to take a cleansing breath to shake it off.
That’s when she realized Kip was watching her, not them, with an indecipherable look on his face—and it didn’t look like happiness or envy.
Flustered, she opened her mouth to say something, but her mind went completely blank. Which was fine because everyone started to move at once.
“One of you, get in the trunk,” ordered Darcy.
Alex headed for the back of the car, but Kip spun him around again by his good shoulder. “Not you.” He grabbed DeAnne’s arm and hauled her along. “You’re coming with me.”
“Hey!” she protested. She did not want to get in the trunk, with him or anyone else.
“What the hell are you doing here?” he growled, practically shoving her into the car boot.
“Rescuing you,” she said testily, landing on her butt with an oof in the cramped space. “You could be a little grateful.”
He snorted. “Scoot in more.”
“Is this really necessary?” she demanded.
“Yes!” When she didn’t move, he pushed her down and climbed in gingerly after. He lay down on his back, grunting in pain at his ribs as he squished in next to her.
She canted onto her side and pressed herself as far into the recess as she could get, to give his huge frame more room. Her arms ended up around him, her body half over his, and her face pressed against the crook of his neck.
Nikolai Romanov appeared and shut the trunk on them. It went pitch black inside, and the smell of gasoline and old tires almost made her gag.
“You really know how to show a girl a good time,” she muttered.
“DeAnne,” he said, his voice rife with warning. “You should not be here.”
“That makes two of us,” she returned heatedly.
The car started with a lurch.
He took a deep breath. “It’s my job, DeAnne.”
“No,” she said. “It’s not. Your job is being a U.S. Marine.”
“Maybe not for much longer,” he said darkly.
She stilled, her irritation temporarily on hold. “Why not?”
The car sped around a corner, throwing them closer together.
“Julie left us a cell phone, so I called my commanding officer to let him know where I was. He said he was quite aware of where I am. He said we needed to talk. And that I should start rethinking my career.” He eased out a breath.
She tightened her arm around his shoulders. “I’m so sorry, Kip. I know your career is everything to you.”
Boy, didn’t she.
“I used to think so,” he murmured.
The tires jolted over a series of bumps and potholes, jostling her into him again. He grunted in pain and she felt him press a hand to his ribs.
“Sorry!” She tried to ease away, but he held her fast.
“DeAnne, there’s something I need to tell you.”
A terrible sense of foreboding flooded through her. Her heart went cold with dread.
“Oh?”
“Yeah. I haven’t been completely honest with you about . . . well, about myself.”
The dread turned to a tight, hard lump in her stomach.
Oh, God. Here it comes.
“Oh?” she managed again.
Please, please, don’t tell me you’re married.
“No. I’m . . .” He hesitated. “I have a—”
Suddenly, the car accelerated fast, swerving hard to the left, then right. They were thrown together and it was all she could do to help keep him from smacking into the sides and cracking his ribs all over again.
“What’s happening?” Panic swept through her as she felt him reach over and pull his pistol from its holster.
“They’ve spotted us,” he gritted out, racking the gun. “And now they’re hunting us down.”
39
Darcy jammed her foot on the gas, pedal to the metal.
Of all the damn luck!
They would run into that same jeep full of soldiers, and naturally the bastards had recognized her. Except now, instead of two innocent women, her car was filled with brawny, broad-shouldered, bruised-and-bloodied men.
They were so screwed.
They’d never make it to the boat.
“Faster, baby,” Bobby Lee calmly urged her. He was sitting in the front now, in DeAnne’s place. He reached down for the weapons in the duffel and passed them around.
“You want to drive?” she asked, taking the turn to the marina at full tilt.
“Not really,” he said, glancing down at the bloody wrapping around the gunshot wound on his thigh. “Working the clutch would be a bitch.”
She careened into the marina lot and sped down the narrow aisle to the dock where they’d left the speedboat, scattering gulls and a half-dozen fishermen. Pulling up, she screeched to a halt, threw open the door, popping the trunk as she leapt out of the car, desperately scanning the water for the boat. There were a dozen or more crafts cruising the bay.
But theirs was gone.
“Crap!” she swore in desperation. “Where the hell is it?”
Kip and DeAnne had tumbled from the trunk, and DeAnne called out, “There!” pointing to the speedboat, tied up a couple of docks back the way they’d come.
Darcy hesitated. All of them piling back into the car would take just as long as covering the short distance on foot. “Run!” she told everyone, waving frantically to the boat driver. But he was turned the other way and didn’t see her.
“Incoming,” Romanov warned, jerking his chin at the marina entrance. The jeep was speeding around the corner toward it. Make that two jeeps.
Alex swore, and they all started running.
All except Bobby Lee, who couldn’t run because of his wounded leg. Darcy slowed to help him, but he waved her off.
“Go! Get the damn boat and come back for me.”
She hesitated, but saw he was right as usual. They had to come back this way anyway to get out to sea. “Be ready to jump in,” she told him and started to turn. At the last second she turned back. “I love you, Bobby Lee Quinn.”
He grinned, loping along in a lopsided gait. “I know, baby.”
She grinned back. He was such a jerk, but she loved him so much it hurt. She turned and started sprinting.
And heard him call after her, “Love you, too, Zimmie.”
By the time they reached the speedboat, the driver had realized what was happening, and had the lines off and the motor running. He threaded the boat through the other moving vessels, coming as close to the dock as he could, and they all leapt onboard, making it rock wildly.
“We need to pick up Quinn,” she called to him over the noise of the revving engine, pointing at Bobby Lee as he limped quickly toward them. He was about fifty feet away.
The jeeps were closing in fast.
Quinn saw them, too, and limped faster.
“Hurry!” she shouted. To both him and the driver.
This was going to be close. Too damn close.
A crowd had gathered along the pier, gaping at the chase. Thank God. The soldiers surely wouldn’t shoot with so many innocent people in the line of fire.
She prayed like crazy. And her heart pounded like a fusillade.
Come on, baby, come on!
Alex and Romanov braced themselves to catch him when he jumped on board. She stretched out her arms, ready to pull him into them.
The jeeps we
re nearly on him, the soldiers shouting and waving their guns.
Bobby Lee reached the edge of the dock. The boat fishtailed in toward him, the back end nearly touching the cement.
He backed up a step to make a running leap.
Darcy held out her arms wider. “Hurry!”
The jeeps screeched to a halt yards away.
Bobby Lee bent to jump.
And caught his foot on a cleat.
He stumbled. And in slow motion, fell to the ground.
She screamed. “Bobby Lee!”
The other men swore.
She started to jump out of the boat to help him.
Romanov and Kip grabbed her arms. “Darcy, stop.”
“Let me go!” She struggled vainly against their iron grip, desperate to get to the man she loved.
“Get her out of here!” Bobby Lee roared.
“No!” she screamed.
And then the soldiers were on him.
40
DeAnne watched the rapidly receding dock in horror as the PLA soldiers dragged Bobby Lee Quinn away. She couldn’t believe this was happening. She felt literally sick to her stomach.
Darcy was stone-faced, her jaw clenched, her eyes following her lover. Kip and Romanov had made her sit, since the cigar boat was now speeding out toward open water.
DeAnne’s gaze was reluctantly drawn to Nikolai Romanov, whose expression was grimly somber beneath his cuts, bruises, and swollen eye. She knew with a sinking heart that Quinn was in for the same treatment. If not worse.
She was already mentally composing her entreaty to Roger Achity to help get him out of prison as soon as possible. But she didn’t have much hope. Bobby Lee would be accused of espionage, and found guilty. Of that there was little doubt. He would be lucky if he wasn’t summarily executed.
DeAnne closed her eyes and pressed her face to Kip’s chest. She wanted to cling to him and cry her eyes out.
Just minutes ago Darcy and Quinn had been so happy.
And now, total devastation.
She let Kip go and took a steadying breath, and slid over to Darcy. She put her arms gently around the other woman, tears filling her eyes. “Oh, Darce. I am so very sorry.”