Kiss the Killer [From the CIA 2](BookStrand Publishing Romance)

by Dawn Kunda

  A screen popped up just as he decided to call it quits for now. All he caught before the computer continued to shut down were the words “Government Victim.” He sat back on a similar kitchen chair from his first apartment and stared at the black screen, contemplating if he should chance opening up the site again.

  Getting restless from the information he had collected, he jumped up and chose to get the rest from Alina herself. The information didn’t state anything about her handling guns, and she didn’t appear dangerous. He would’ve found out last night.

  On his way to Alina’s home, hardly farther than before, he tempered his findings with known facts. Scientists from neutral countries occasionally worked for extreme governments. Sweden regularly sent their scientist abroad. The scientists were not allowed to take a political side, only report the scientific findings resulting from facts of paid work. Alina apparently had been sent to Iraq and hadn’t worked since. He doubted she’d gone to Iraq to study the food chain. So what had she done or found out that took her off the regular payroll for so long?

  He rolled onto the gravel drive in front of her home. It looked like a lived in residence, but the scant furnishings inside gave him doubts on how long she’d been the possessor. He put his car in park next to Alina’s, paused scanning the grounds, and only saw the mangy llama peering over the wooden fence. He swore it spit at him as they made eye contact.

  He checked his SIG SAUER, debating whether to have it drawn as his new hello. She couldn’t possibly harm him, but then again he knew women had as much power as a man when dueling weapons. He put it back in its holster and approached the side door. Compromising, he rested his right hand on the gun handle while rapping on the door.

  His eyes traveled the periphery while he waited. He raised his left hand to knock again when he detected a movement behind the curtained window to his right side. The longer she procrastinated answering the door, the more likely she expected trouble.

  The door swung partially inward during his internal debate. “Come in.” The words came from behind the open door.

  Forgetting his right hand on the gun, Vic cautiously stepped over the threshold. He glanced over the kitchen to his right, and then to the living room. He quick-stepped back against the wall as Alina rounded the door with a scream and her hands shot up to cover her mouth. She sank down, bent at the knees, and visibly trembled. His jacket had swung open to show the gun he’d tried to hide.

  Usually when he surprised the hunted, they drew a gun at him, so his response turned into whipping out his SIG SAUER and aiming down at her face.

  “Please, please…” She fell onto her knees.

  “Hey, hey.” Vic reached down with his empty hand and pulled at her arm. He secured his firearm. “I’m not going to hurt you.” She looked up, tears brimmed her lower lids. “Your scream surprised me. Sorry.” His right hand remained inside his jacket.

  “I should’ve known better.” Her voice started in a whimper and grew stronger. “Go ahead, kill me. You’ll never get what you want.”

  He pulled her to her feet. “I’m not going to kill you unless you give me a reason to.”

  Faster than a slip on the ice, she yanked herself free and backed away. Holding her head up with chin jutted forward, her eyes lit with hatred, she said, “I already have.”

  * * * *

  Now she blew it. She’d been found in a matter of months. Along with changing her name, she should’ve changed her country and listened to witness protection for the full monty. She had convinced herself she played ahead of the Iraqi regime’s game. Her plan hadn’t been fool proof. Now she stood here with her one-night-lack-of-self-control aiming his gun at her again.

  He couldn’t get what he came for if she was dead. She didn’t care so much about the information he wanted, but rather she wanted her cousin back alive.

  She blinked away the last remnant of tears and kept her gaze focused on his face. “Go ahead. What are you waiting for?”

  A half grin creased his unshaven cheek. She furrowed her brows as he chose not to answer. “What…what are you laughing at?”

  “I’m not laughing, Alina.”

  Another streak of salty water slipped down her raw cheek. He knew her name, her new name anyway, which inferred he knew a lot more.

  “Are you carrying?” He shifted his gun at her.

  “Carrying what… Oh. No, I don’t have a gun, so I’m an easy target and I wish you’d just get it over with.”

  His smile disappeared as he reached out and patted her down before he holstered his gun. His hands didn’t resemble the touch from a few nights ago. She had mentally slapped herself for allowing him into her home and her bed, but the scolding was for the wrong reason. Worrying he represented the best of men, she had thought she would cause him to get killed like the previous man in her life.

  “Have a seat.” He motioned to the kitchen table. She eyed it nervously. “Before ‘I get it over with,’ I need to know whose side you’re on.”

  He put his left hand to her back and nudged her to a kitchen chair. She sat with her back straight and her stare never leaving his chest where he’d deposited the gun. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  “I figured that’d be your first defense, but I don’t have the time or patience for games. How about I tell you what I found out, and you can fill in the gaps?”

  She hadn’t thought much about how to protect herself, assuming she’d only need protection when she returned to Iraq. With furtive sideway glances, she prayed to notice something, anything she could use as a weapon.

  “I can retrieve my gun faster than you can reach for any item in your kitchen, so don’t even think about it.”

  Her stare returned to Vic’s face. He’s so powerful, strong, and handsome. How could she have mistaken him for the good side? At this moment, as he threatened her life, amazement filled her that she didn’t consider him the ugliest man alive. He represented the wrong side of humanity. She convinced herself that he was part of the regime she was hiding from. There can be nothing beautiful about that.

  He interrupted her internal dialogue. “We’ll start with the fact that your name is Alina Runesson. I believe you either changed your name, your parents’ last name is Karlsson, or you’re divorced, widowed, or maybe still married.” She cringed in her seat as he proved he’d researched her, and more of her family might suffer for her carelessness. “I’m sure that’s not enough for you to go on, so my next option is to ask what a chemical analyst, meaning you, was doing in Iraq three months ago?” She opened her mouth, but he put up his hand to silence her. “And why that’s the last time you’ve worked.” He lowered his hand. “Now you can tell me.”

  A rift of anger stole through her chest. “I’m on vacation.” If he knew so much, he’d also know when she changed the facts. I may not win, but I can play the game, too. If her family becomes a target, warning them can be her only positive move.

  “Now, Alina, or do you prefer to be called Gerty?”

  “Does it matter?”

  “I like the sound of Alina myself. Why’d you pick a name like ‘Gerty’? Sounds more like a spinster, and you definitely aren’t that.”

  “Gerty is my llama.” A little harmless truth might throw him off the track, and he’d believe everything she said.

  “That’s a good start. I’m not concerned whether that’s the truth or not, but tell me about your work in Iraq.”

  “Do you research everyone you sleep with?”

  “That’s fair. You should get to ask questions because you don’t know who I am.” Vic stood on the opposite side of the table, looking down at her. “I can’t tell you much, but, yes, I do check out women I don’t know and who have lied to me about their name. It’s a natural option in my business.”

  “What’s your business?”

  “We’ll get to that at the end. After my questions are answered.”

  Alina began to get weary of the pumping adrenaline. “You already know my job and
where I’ve been. What more can I tell you?”

  Vic pushed a chair away from in front of him and leaned over the table, pushing his face close to hers. “You can tell me whose side you’re on, what you did in Iraq, and why I got the impression the other night that you’re hiding from someone.”

  Pulling her face back as his breath added heat to her cheeks, she felt the tears threatening to resurface. “I was sent there under a contract between governments, strictly to examine chemical properties of uranium, which Iraq requested to manufacture better power systems.” It didn’t matter anymore. He knew enough about her and her strong side must’ve gone to sleep for now.

  He sat in the discarded chair and bent over the table. “And…”

  “And I don’t know what else to tell you. I have no idea why I’m being looked for.” A muscle of strength resurfaced. She knew why.

  “Did you finish the job?”

  She shrugged her shoulders. “Sort of.” His eyelids tightened together, inferring he wanted more. “I did my work and created a report.” Her voice lowered in volume. “The report had been destroyed.”

  “By who? Who destroyed your report, and why’d they do it?” Vic leaned back and gave her some space. “Why don’t they request a copy from Chemical Alliance?”

  He made another strike in the game with his knowledge of her employer. “Why don’t you ask my boss instead of me?” She still couldn’t place his position against her. He didn’t act like a terrorist or someone from a hostile regime, so why did he want information on her business and hadn’t taken to force right away?

  “Because I met you first, and doubt that I care much about your employer.” He remained silent for a minute before he came up with another question. “I can see that you’re worried about someone finding you, and I also figured out you might not recognize your assailant even if he’s sitting across from you.”

  He was getting so close. “What are you going to do if I tell you everything you want to hear? Are you going to kill me afterward?” She doubted it or he would’ve already begun to torture her for answers.

  “Let’s get over this killing thing, okay?”

  “How can I?”

  “Start at the beginning again. If you tell me what’s going on, maybe I can be of help.”

  Forcing her to talk while he kept his gun handy and adding that he might help her didn’t make sense. She came up with a new diversion. She’d tell him most of the truth, but change a few facts. If he was legitimately not part of the regime looking for her, he wouldn’t know she’d changed anything important. “All right, I worked in Iraq, which I already told you, but the report had been sent to the wrong country. Probably Egypt, or somewhere near there and they were told to destroy it. I’m the only one who can replace it, but I’m supposed to return to Iraq to verify the information.”

  “So why haven’t you—?”

  “I haven’t gone back because my boss insists I need some time off. Period. That’s pretty much all that’s going on.”

  Vic nodded his head, then squinted his eyes, which were aglow with anger. “Really? Do you really expect me to believe that? If there was a chance that you told the whole truth I’d be willing to tell you something about myself, but I can see you aren’t very good at lying.” He leaned back and rubbed his hands down his thighs as he let out an exasperated sigh. “If I tell you that I’m not interested in killing you, that I work on the right side of the law, will you be straight with me?”

  Her lip trembled. Damn if he couldn’t show a bad trait. She didn’t want to believe him and wished he showed signs of weakness or stupidity. If he’s for real, I need to cut him from my contact list, or I know I’ll get him killed. If he’s for real, I need help. “Yes.”

  Chapter 7

  Vic rotated his head so the side faced Alina. Cupping his hand around his ear, he said, “‘Yes’ to what?”

  “Either way I die. If I’m wrong about you and ask for your help, I die. If I don’t get help, and you already know too much about me, the others will find and eventually kill me. You’ll probably die somewhere in the middle of everything. I seem to have that effect on men…some men.”

  Vic stared directly at her the whole time she enumerated her ways to die. “That was convincing.” He kept watching.

  She didn’t look away. She hadn’t told him anything more than he’d found out on his own. He could sense a touch of relief sprout through her tense shoulders. She sat down in her vacated chair. “So, will you help me?”

  He rubbed his jaw with his eyes focused on the table. He needed the whole story, but the fact that she’d revealed the ending gave her a high mark. She’d also mentioned Egypt, which was a place he definitely had work to do in. “We might be able to arrange something. Again, I’ll need the whole story of your, ah, dilemma before anything can happen. Without all the information, the truth, I have nothing to work with.”

  Vic’s mind began to calculate his purpose for being in Sweden. He’d consider what she could do for him in exchange. She had mentioned Egypt, and his agents stationed there were in a festering operation full of bad seeds ready to multiply. He could also count on work that needed to be done in Iraq. Some of his agents had been placed in Iraq under operations assigned by his boss, Kreis. That alone told him the assignment wasn’t valid for long-term survival.

  “I want to return to Iraq.”

  “To give them the report that was destroyed?” He’d already learned she needed small pushes to tell her tale.

  “No, I have to find my cousin.” When a woman wanted something, they sure had a way of looking sexy and vulnerable.

  Telling the truth helped, too. When someone is interrogated, they don’t throw out extra ammunition without a push for it. He wiped his hand across his jaw and shook his head. “What? What does your cousin have to do with your work?”

  Tears rolled down her cheek. “My cousin Christa, she looks more like she’d be my sister, is a hostage. In Iraq. They think she’s me.” In another breath, Alina spoke rapidly. “The regime took Christa hostage thinking she was me. I’m sure they’ve figured it out by now and either they’ve killed her, or are using her to get to me.”

  Vic pulled a chair back to the table. As he sank onto the seat, he kept his eyes riveted to Alina. His nerves were on edge as he realized she was caught in the middle of the civil unrest in Iraq. Even if she didn’t tell the whole truth, enough of it slipped through to tell him she was in danger. He doubted she realized how much danger she provoked.

  * * * *

  Alina didn’t tell Vic about Jon, the man who gave his life to save her. Jon was part of her life, her love, her soul, and Vic had no right to any of those parts. Vic may have seen her naked, but there’s a difference between sex and love. She only had sex with Vic, nothing more.

  She had told enough of the truth, and now he could do what he wanted with it. He didn’t act like he’d put her under gun point again. He seemed to have forgotten about his weapon. That’s a good start. “Will you help me get back to Iraq and find Christa? Can you?”

  She flinched as he reached his hand across the table to touch her fingertips. “I think I can.”

  Her brows knitted together. He may have a gun, but what makes him think he can take on a terrorist regime in a Middle Eastern country? “That’s not good enough.” She watched him raise his eyebrows in surprise. “Just because we had sex doesn’t give you the right to feel like my knight in shining armor.”

  “It has nothing to do with that.”

  “Vic, if that’s your real name, you said you’d tell me about yourself. Now’s the time.” She had to play hardball. How could she expect to magically find the perfect man to solve her problem? “Even my government is taking their time, so what can you do and why would you help me?”

  “I’m a licensed agent and have connections. We’ll leave it at that for now.” She crossed her arms over her chest. Her control came back in small swatches as he supplied answers. “My name is Vic Grant, although I use other
names when anything I do is documented.”

  “What do you mean by that?”

  “Airplane tickets, rental agreements, or signing a name to anything.”

  “Are you a criminal and that’s why you have connections?”

  “No.” His answer came fast, so it must be the truth. It could be a practiced lie.

  Prompting what she really wanted, she said, “But why would you help me? You don’t even know me?”

  “That’s a more complicated question.”

  She watched his eyes soften as she waited for him to continue.

  “I think it’s because you didn’t look for me, but rather I found you. Let’s just say, when I sat at your table, I could tell you’re honestly afraid of someone finding you.” He again slid his hand across the table. As her arms remained folded, he pulled his offer back. “I already have work to do in the Middle East and I’d like to help you rather than have you try it on your own. I have a feeling that’s your intent otherwise. Am I right?”

  “I have to do something to end…my situation.” She looked to the side. Rubbing her hand on the forearm of her sweater, she asked, “What kind of agent are you?”

  “Government. I work all over the world.” She watched his face. Before she could demand a better answer, he added, “CIA. Not that it matters anymore.”

  She didn’t ask why it didn’t matter. Her train of thought derailed as she realized she had a professional detective, investigator, or something bigger in her house. He could kill her or he could help her.

  He broke the sudden silence. “If your situation is what will take you back to the ‘crime,’ you can’t go against the regime on your own. You might as well sign a death certificate before you go. I’ve been there and know more than you can imagine.”

  She didn’t doubt him. Yet, it wouldn’t stop her, if that’s what she had to do. “You still haven’t told me what you can do about it.” Her arms relaxed, sinking to her lap. She needed confirmation that he could help her before she let herself believe she might have a chance to bring her cousin back home.