by Misty Evans
Without a word, Beatrice went to him, and he opened his arms and took her into an embrace. She murmured something soft and low in his ear and Reese closed his eyes and hugged her tight, nearly lifting her and the child still in her stomach off the floor.
It sounded like he said, “Why do you do this to me?” against Beatrice’s hair, and she chuckled.
And then over her head, Reese shot Hunter a look that said the man’s time on this earth might be about to come to an end. “You were supposed to keep her off her feet and relaxed.”
Jax had to give Hunter credit. He didn’t flinch at the menacing glare on Reese’s face, nor did he argue with the man about the stubbornness of his charge. “She’s in good hands at this moment with Sloan and Dr. Oswalo. They’ve kept a close eye on her.”
Jax had checked on Beatrice before midnight, slipping out from a sleeping Ruby to make sure his boss’s blood pressure and other vitals were normal. They had been, and Beatrice had assured him she was eating fine and felt good. Dr. Oswalo and Hunter had seconded the fact that for a pregnant woman several days past her due date, Beatrice was the epitome of health.
A petite woman with dark hair and numerous wrinkles stepped out from the shadows. “That will be for me to decide.”
Reese had brought the midwife. Smart dude.
“You’re fired,” Callan said to Hunter, and Beatrice smacked his arm.
“He is not,” she countered and then spoke to Jax. “Get back to Ruby and Elliot. We need to know as much as possible about who’s hunting Agent Hayden. Our lead suspect at this point is Abdel Al-Safari. Do you agree?”
Jax could only nod. He did agree, but the possibilities were endless with Homeland and the CIA involved. They still didn’t have the full story, and even though his gut said Hayden was nothing more than a pawn in that story, Jax wasn’t about to let down his guard with the man. Hayden was a skilled operative who’d apparently lied to and fooled Ruby and a whole lot of other people. “I’ll find out everything I can, but I want outside verification of anything Hayden tells us.”
Beatrice nodded. “Agreed. Anything that comes out of his mouth is circumspect, but at this point, we don’t have enough information to confirm or deny what he’s told us so far.”
“Do you want me to go with you?” Hunter asked. “I know a few interrogation techniques that might come in handy.”
Techniques. A nice word for torture. “Let’s give him a chance to fess up,” Jax said. “And a few more hours to stabilize from the surgery. If we haven’t got anything worth its salt by then, he’s all yours.”
The two of them shared a fist bump and Jax left Beatrice and the others to deal with Cal and the midwife.
Izala wants you. Hayden’s words to Ruby rang in Jax’s head as he made his way back to the recovery room. Was Hayden telling the truth or making shit up again? If it was true, how had Izala found out about Ruby? Had he learned that she was hunting him for the CIA?
Worse, what had he intended to do with her if he caught her?
Uncomfortable images swam through Jax’s mind, nauseating him. What did any psychopath want with a beautiful woman?
What had the man in the woods said? Him and his buddies were after the spook.
Not Elliot Hayden.
Ruby.
Al-Safari was in Chicago. He’d been looking for Ruby. The torn up apartment, the mercenaries.
All after her.
Jax picked up his pace, needing to put eyes on the woman who’d upended his world. No one was laying a hand on her, and by God, if Al-Safari came after her, Jax would kill him without a second’s hesitation.
The door loomed on his left and he was mere steps from it when it flung open and Ruby came barreling out. She turned to her left, not seeing him, her feet breaking into a run as she headed for the far end of the hallway.
Her hands were up, palms on her cheeks, and Jax had the faint inclination she was hyperventilating as she hustled away, heading toward a door with a standard Exit sign above it.
“Ruby,” he called, running to catch up to her. “Ruby, stop!”
She didn’t seem to hear him, her hands flying out to hit the bar on the door before she shoved it open. Somewhere behind him, Jax heard an alarm blare.
A few strides and he hit the door as well, heaving it open and taking the stairs that led topside two at a time. “Ruby! Stop. Where are you going?”
He caught her as she stepped outside, but he didn’t yank her back when he saw the panic on her face.
“I’m okay,” she insisted around gasps. The door banged closed behind them. “Just a little claustrophobic.”
He pulled her in close, snugging her body against his as he stared out at the indigo night. “Since when are you claustrophobic?”
She tried to laugh. The sound she made was more of a wheeze. “Since Palestine. Long story. I’ll tell you some day.”
He planned to hold her to it. They were close to the Wisconsin border, nothing but bluffs on one side, wide open prairie on the other. The secret clinic burrowed into and under one of the bluffs, providing a very secure fortress, completely obscured to the human eye.
They were safe here, hidden away. Still, hyperawareness of his surroundings had been embedded in his psyche from SEAL training. He quickly scanned the area, seeing nothing but the quarter moon and a blanket of stars over their heads.
Somewhere in the distance, a brook hiccupped and chirped. A chorus of night insects and frogs filled the humid air with comforting sounds.
Ruby gulped air, her hands delving into this shirt and gripping it tightly. He glanced down and saw the taut strain on her face.
Definitely hyperventilating even though she wasn’t underground anymore. “Breathe,” he told her. “Inhale. One…two…three. Now exhale twice as long. One…pause…two…pause…three. Do it again.”
Beatrice and Hunter’s little mind trick worked. Ruby’s breathing stabilized, her eyelids fluttered open, and her face relaxed. But she didn’t let go of his shirt.
He rubbed her back, scanning her face as if he could figure out what had caused this sudden panic attack. She stared back, her eyes giving nothing away.
Easing her around so she could see the prairie before them, he encircled her in his arms and held her back close to his front. It wasn’t a white room, but it would do.
He dropped a kiss onto the top of her head. “Nothing but wide, open space out here. Nothing closing in around you except my arms, sweetheart.”
They stayed like that for long moments, her head resting against his collarbone.
It wasn’t that he didn’t believe her about Palestine but he suspected her panic attack had been more about something else. Perhaps the news that Izala was hunting her.
She surprised him when she spun inside his arms, then went up on her tiptoes and laid a kiss on him. Though completely unexpected, he wasn’t about to look a gift horse in the mouth. Parting her lips with his, he poured what he was feeling for her into the simple act of kissing her back.
They stayed that way for long moments, Ruby’s breathing becoming heavier, more rapid again. This kind of rapid breathing had nothing to do with panic, however. She slipped her tongue inside his mouth and, bam, just like always, his body felt that zip of electricity pass between them that happened every time they touched.
How long they stayed that way, he didn’t know. Someone came out the door, saw them making out, and went back in, assured that the security breach was nothing more than a pair of lovers looking for some privacy.
Beatrice would still have his hide for standing outside in the open, even though there was no threat of them being seen unless the dead guys were zombies and had somehow managed to follow them.
When Ruby finally stopped molesting him, he was a bit disappointed, but he needed to know what else Hayden had said and why that had sent her sprinting for the exit. If he hadn’t been there to stop her, how far would she have gone?
She licked her lips and looked down as he slipped a piece of her
hair behind her ear. “What happened, Ruby? Why did you freak out and run?”
Turning away, she glanced out over the prairie and bit her bottom lip. “That was unprofessional, huh? Having a panic attack like that. It’s just…”
“Just what? Did Hayden say something?”
“He did indeed,” she said on a chuckle. There was no humor in it though. “He told me why he killed the man we believed was Al-Safari and why Al-Safari is now here, in America, coming after him.”
Her tone left no doubt in Jax’s mind that he wasn’t going to like what he was about to hear. Sliding a hand into hers, he interlaced their fingers, hoping to let her know that no matter what it was, he was there for her. He wouldn’t let her down. “Why?”
“Izala found out Elliot and Keon James were searching for Commander Pierce. He offered them a deal that El refused to take.”
“What kind of deal?”
“He would give them Commander Pierce in exchange for someone of equal value.”
Jax’s stomach dropped. “You.”
She nodded. “Al-Safari—the real one—somehow found out about me, about my assignment to hunt down Izala. I guess Izala saw me at some point while he was keeping tabs on Elliot. He likes experts—he…collects them, you might say. He figured adding a top CIA operative to his collection would give him even more power to bring down the US.”
Jax’s jaw went wild as he sheered enamel off his teeth. “He wanted to do more than that, I’m sure.”
“I suppose he did. He offered El a deal. When Elliot refused, Al-Safari let his double be caught so he could lay a trap.”
Her dark eyes lifted to meet his. “Elliot did, in fact, kill that man we believed was Al-Safari, Jax. He killed him because the man was going to kidnap me and take me to Izala.”
Chapter Twenty
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BEATRICE SUFFERED SILENTLY through her third checkup in less than twelve hours as her midwife, Maria, chastised her. Not for flying this late in her pregnancy, but for flying off to Chicago without her. Apparently Maria loved the Windy City—at least from what she’d seen on her favorite TV shows—and wanted to visit.
Cal, on the other hand, was not so open minded about the whole thing. He stood, arms crossed, glaring down at Beatrice as she lay on the couch with her feet propped up at one end while Maria went on and on about her favorite episodes of some show about Chicago firemen.
Beatrice waited for Cal to cut off Maria’s litany, but he didn’t, his SEAL training evident in his considerable patience. Behind his hard eyes, Beatrice saw the vexation and displeasure he held in check. His mouth was a hard line; his stance one of controlled outrage.
Arguing with her would only lead him to more irritation and frustration; he knew it and so did she. Her logic was hard to beat in most instances, and sometimes, during their arguments, she gave in out of love for him. She didn’t need to always win, especially since she knew she was always right.
This time, she might not give in. She hadn’t decided. She and the baby were healthy. Jax and Ruby had needed help—and yes, some of the others could have helped them, but Beatrice had first-hand knowledge of the people and experience in the situations the two of them were facing. Direct knowledge and experience that not everyone on the SFI team possessed. She’d felt it imperative to join them in the field and make sure her operative and his charge didn’t end up in some secret, off-the-books, government prison…or worse.
“She’s doing great,” Maria announced to Cal. “I do need to check to see how far dilated she is, but everything else is copacetic.”
“Later,” Cal said, ushering the woman toward the door. “B and I need to talk and then she needs some sleep. We’ll head back to Chicago at first light and take the plane home. Sound good?”
He didn’t wait for her reply, shoving her out of the room and closing the door behind her.
“You could at least help her find a room so she can catch some sleep too,” Beatrice said, feeling sluggish, even after her nap. While she’d actually enjoyed the excitement with Jax, Ruby, Zeb, and Trace, it had been a long day—and night.
The edge of the couch dipped under Cal’s weight as he sat next to her and took one of her hands. “What am I going to do with you, woman?”
“Keep loving me and don’t have a hemorrhage over this trip. I’m fine to fly and I needed to make sure Jax didn’t end up dead. He and Agent McKellen are in deeper than they realize.”
Cal started to say something—no doubt to argue—but stopped himself. “Tell me what’s going on.”
She gave him a brief update, loving him for understanding her need to be in the middle of this. That’s what strong, decent husbands like Cal did. They looked at it from a logical, non-emotional angle, saw the validity in it, and put aside their frivolous emotional turmoil. Which was all this was. As Maria, Jax, and Dr. Oswalo had all insisted, she was healthy as a horse and the baby was still MIA.
Speaking of, the baby moved every time he heard Cal’s voice. Beatrice moved Cal’s hand to her stomach as he spoke next. “Your expertise in these things is superior to everyone, B, but…whoa.”
His face lit up as he felt the baby kick. “She’s giving you hell, isn’t she?” he said, grinning.
“He is happy you’re here.”
Their ongoing argument over the sex of the child didn’t stop Cal from continuing to scold her. “Couldn’t you have simply called Jax and given him the lowdown? Did you really think it necessary to fly all the way here and hunt him down?”
At a particularly sharp kick, she laid her hand next to his. “I know you think I’m taking a risk here, but I’m not. I would never put our child in danger.”
“And yet, Zeb told me you took gunfire from pursuers before you arrived here at the clinic.”
Damn man. “I—we,”—she rubbed her stomach around his hand—“we were all behind bulletproof material with Trace at the wheel. The baby and I couldn’t have been safer.”
The corners of his mouth tipped down, but no argument ensued. Trace was the ultimate bodyguard, which was why Cal had assigned him to her. With his superior skills and capabilities, nothing and no one would get through him.
Zeb and Jax weren’t bad to have on her side either, and Cal knew it.
Leaning over, he kissed her and Beatrice smiled against his lips. “I love you,” he said. “But we need to go home. Even if you’re right as rain, I’m about to have a coronary.”
“I know.” She understood where he was coming from. “This is a lot to ask of you.”
“Damn straight.”
Cal was going in for another kiss when a soft knock sounded on the door. “We’re busy,” he called.
“It’s Jax and Agent McKellen,” Beatrice said, gently shoving him back. She raised her voice. “Come in.”
The door cracked open and Jax peeked around it. Cal raised an eyebrow at Beatrice, suggesting he wanted to know when she’d acquired ESP. Silly man. She knew Jax’s knock just like she knew Cal’s and Trace’s and everyone else’s who frequented her office.
“What did you find out?” she asked Jax as she swung her feet around.
Cal helped her to a sitting position as Jax and Agent McKellen stepped inside. They stayed near the door, both looking a bit sheepish at Cal.
“She needs to sleep, so make it quick,” Cal growled.
Jax nodded. He looked fierce and determined, the tired haze from earlier gone. “CliffsNotes, Izala found out about Hayden and James looking for Commander Pierce, probably from Al-Safari, who was playing both sides of the fence. Izala decided Pierce had given up all the intel he was going to and he wanted to make a trade.”
“For me,” Agent McKellen added. “Abdel told him I was an elite CIA operative and beautiful. He wanted me.”
Beatrice tapped a finger against her belly. “And your partner refused to give you up, so Izala used Al-Safari and his double to try to get to you.”
“Because they’re still looking for Commander Pierce,” Beatrice supplied. “They’ll do whatever it takes to find him, including give you up.”
“Nice,” Cal added. “What a fucked up government we work for.”
“Used to work for,” Jax amended.
Beatrice waited for Jax to volunteer his idea on how to find Al-Safari, but her operative stayed silent. “So what is your plan, Agent McKellen?”
Ruby lifted her brows. “My plan?”
“I assume you have one.”
She grinned and glanced at Jax next to her. “Actually, we have a plan,” she said, fiddling with the bracelet on her arm. “If you’re willing to keep me on as a client.”
Sitting back and knowing Cal wasn’t going to let her direct this operation, whatever it was, Beatrice sighed quietly. “I’m listening,” she said, and prayed that somehow, some way, Jaxon Sloan could keep Agent McKellen alive.
Twenty-four hours later
RUBY SAT AT THE desk in her living room, pretending to be working on her computer. The first part of her plan to draw out Abdel Al-Safari was in motion. The second half of her plan—the half no one else knew about, not even Jax—still had some details to work out.
The thrill of running undercover ops never got old; the adrenaline rushing through her veins, the anticipation of putting her acting skills to the test made her happy. Lying was easy for her, maybe too easy, but it was a skill like any other. There was a place and time for it, and lines sometimes blurred between right and wrong.