High Ground

by Madelon Smid

  She buried her face in his throat. He felt the wet trail of her tears. “I’m a mess,” she said throatily.

  “You’re a mess on the outside, maybe, but I’m a mess on the inside. One thing I know for certain, Cat. I’ve waited all my life for the moment I’d recognize love. I know what I feel. Shakespeare said it in one of his sonnets. ‘Love is not love which alters when it alteration finds, or bends with the remover to remove. Oh no, it is an ever-fixed mark that looks on tempests and is never shaken.’

  “Maybe you don’t feel the same. Maybe you do but won’t accept it, but don’t for a minute question that I know my mind and heart.” He stroked his hand over her hair as a huge sob welled up from her center. “My love is present, constant and lasting. You’ll have it forever, whether I’m with you or not.” He tugged on a wild curl, lifting her drenched eyes to meet his. “RG is waiting. I have to go.”

  He left her then. His heart pierced by her fear, drenched in the vinegar of his inability to gain her trust. Her sobs followed him down the dock. He closed his eyes, surrendering again to the painful sacrifice of giving her what she wanted.

  Chapter Twelve

  Cat cried herself into a headache and an exhausted sleep. When she woke hours later, her subconscious held all the answers she needed.

  “Take action or change your attitude,” she whispered to herself in the dark. She’d tried action, removing herself from Josh’s vicinity so she’d forget him. Yeah, that had worked. It was time to change her attitude, accept that loving him was a good thing. She might not have said the words to him, but they’d hummed in her head since that long ago marathon. Only someone who’d captured her heart could have hurt her to the extent she’d let him when he accused her that day.

  She’d used the jab of pain as a warning, retreated, and followed her modus operandi each time her love opened a secret door for him. Hours ago, he’d slipped his words past her guard, come closer than ever before. Instead of welcoming him in with joy, she’d battled him back, her fear a sword slashing his love, inflicting painful wounds. She didn’t blame him for giving up on her, fleeing to save himself. She’d done the same, when she’d left him in Toronto. She only hoped he’d hear her out, give her a chance. She’d lay her love like a trunk of booty before him—strongly, bravely, fully. She’d offer herself openly and honestly, letting Josh’s example guide her.

  “Let me not to the marriage of true minds admit impediments.” She too read Shakespeare. Josh had been kind enough to leave off the line. It certainly spoke to what she’d been doing. In the morning, she would go to him, tell him she loved him and ask for a new beginning. Made tranquil by her choice, she drifted into dreams.

  A sense of danger lifted her from sleep. She came awake in full alert mode, heard the soft twot of a shot fired through a silencer. She pulled her Glock from the drawer of the bedside table, jammed her feet into moccasins, and slid through the door of the bedroom. A shadow passed the window, disappeared. The night reverberated with silence. The nothingness telling her something was wrong.

  Through the kitchen window, she could see one of her guards prone on the dock. Chances were the other agent had been shot, too, and the first shot had woken her. She hit the speed dial on her phone; RG answered the first ring.

  “My guards are down. One intruder sighted.”

  “Hold your position. I’ll send back-up. We’re ten minute out.”

  She hung up, backed into the shadows under the stairs leading to the upper deck.

  The sight of a dancing red spot on her breast pinned her in place.

  “Smart move. Now drop your weapon.” The voice high pitched and nervous came out of the dark.

  She leaned forward, set her pistol onto the floor.

  “Kick it away.”

  She heard what she’d prayed she would hear, footsteps crossing the floor. If he got close enough, she had a chance.

  Her desk lamp flared to life. A black gloved hand raised the lid of her laptop. “Over here,” he ordered. “Sit at the desk.”

  She settled into the seat, wondering if he had another weapon. A high-powered rifle would be no good to him at this close quarter.

  “Key in the passwords for the FBI spyware.” A revolver nudged her skin just beneath her ear.

  She had to get his attention off the gun, keep his focus on the laptop until RG arrived. She started keying in the passwords. At this level, her eye scan would access Josh’s program. She prayed Maddox, for she was certain the man breathing hard and emitting the smell of unwashed body was Maddox, couldn’t get past the next firewall. She prayed Josh had removed her clearance.

  The window blinked acceptance of her code, requested her iris scan.

  “Do it.” The gun pressed the kill spot over her carotid artery.

  She dropped her hands from the keyboard, tried to pivot.

  The snick of the hammer being pulled back warned her to desist. She keyed in the scanner, bent forward, and let the laptop read her eye scan. Lines of file names poured onto the screen.

  Maddox gave a pleased laugh. “Stand up. Move over to the kitchen counter.” He used the pistol to raise her out of the chair, pressed it hard into her as she moved. “Sit.” He pulled cuffs from his pocket and snapped one end over her wrist. He threaded the handcuffs through the metal frame of the high stool and snapped the second cuff into place on her other wrist.

  He backed up, settled in front of the laptop, a smug grin stretching his narrow lips.

  “You’ll never get into his files without his eye scan,” she warned.

  “I don’t need to get into the files anymore. Those weasels in Washington don’t deserve my loyalty. All I have to do is set off his self-destruct codes. When the security at all those agencies he protects crashes, Chandler’s reputation will be ruined. I’ve planted evidence of bank transactions showing the money North Korea paid him to crash the system. It will show up inside the NSA, the only system that won’t crash because they didn’t use his software.” His fingers flew across the keys as he gloated. The pistol lay on the desk, snout facing her, forgotten as his plot absorbed him.

  Cat waited until he settled into the codes. When he hunched closer over the machine, she inched off the stool and kicked out with everything she had. She tore the stitches in her shoulder stretching as far as she could. The stool crashed to the floor behind her, pulling her off balance, but the desk slid back crashing into Maddox. The laptop toppled onto its lid. The sudden noise and movement frightened Maddox into leaping up, which sent his pistol flying. He lunged at her, fury painting his face with ugly lines.

  “You bitch. You’ve been nothing but trouble. I’m going to kill you.” Hands reaching for her throat, he leapt on her. Cat let him close on her, needing to get him between her and the counter. By the time she maneuvered him between the stools, her lungs were screaming for oxygen. She kneed him hard in the stomach. He bounced against the counter, backhanded her, and rushed her again. She hooked her foot behind his knee and sent him to the floor. He made a grab at her, his nails slashing furrows down her arm. A kick to the side of his head dazed him long enough for her to pin him with her knee.

  “You’re too late, bitch,” he gloated. “I’ve already infiltrated the system and set off the self-destruct program.”

  The slam of car doors promised assistance. The bastard had sunk her boat, destroyed her house, almost killed the man she loved, come close to toppling the President, and scratched her with his filthy nails. She shifted, pressing her knee across his larynx and took satisfaction when his gloating gave way to desperate gasps for air.

  RG rushed in, took in the situation in a glance. He cuffed Maddox and, rolling him over, searched his pockets. He found the key and freed Cat from the bar stool dragging at her arms.

  Josh had entered just behind RG, all his attention on Cat. With the restraint off the stool, she rushed to the laptop, righted it. “Josh, the self-destruct is running. Can you stop it?”

  “Get me a sharp knife.” He was already rollin
g up his sleeve. “We need a USB key.”

  Cat circled the island, pulled a butcher knife from the wooden block, and handed it to him. She scrambled through the drawers of her desk and came up with a flash drive.

  Josh pierced his forearm with the tip of the knife, pushed it deeper, and lifted a minute chip from under the flap of skin. He handed it to her. “Wipe the blood off. Insert it into the flash drive.

  She wiped the chip, marveled when it fit perfectly into the end of the flash drive, and plugged the key into her USB port. An empty window requesting a password danced onto her screen. He leaned over, tapped in a sequence.

  A window opened requesting his eye scan. He leaned in. The word Accepted blinked onto the screen in glowing letters. Bright green numbers counted down the time on her screen.

  “Fifteen seconds,” she reported. Another window opened. He typed in a series of numbers and symbols, hit the abort command. They waited, breathe held, senses straining.

  The windows disappeared, numbers faded from the screen. A red alert stopped blinking. Cat stared at the screen as it went blank, frozen in place. Three seconds more and all of Josh’s work would self-destruct, his prototype gone, his codes setting off destroy sequences in his clients’ spyware.

  She looked at Josh. His attention focused on the blood running from his arm, his face whiter than the moonlight dappling the floor. “You made the chip as a failsafe against zero days,” she croaked, her throat so badly bruised she sounded like a bullfrog. “How did you get it in there? You can’t look at your own blood?

  “Same way I got it out, sheer determination. RG gave me the idea with the GPS chip. I admit going through it again made me a little queasy. I paid for the materials with bitcoin, an online currency, making it virtually untraceable, manufactured it in a secret room at the loft. I didn’t want you or anyone else endangered by the knowledge a failsafe existed.”

  “The FBI and local police will be swarming this place momentarily,” RG interjected. “Let’s get you bandaged before the barrage begins.” He put a firm hand on Josh’s shoulder and led him to the sofa.

  Cat retrieved the chip and handed it over. “This will have to be sterilized before it’s inserted again.” She hovered, bending over RG’s shoulder. She wanted desperately to push RG aside and tend to Josh herself, but didn’t have the right. She’d rejected him and he’d walked out on her. Only the chance of capturing Maddox had brought him back. “You were thinking beyond imagination.”

  “Brilliant idea. You can operate or destroy whatever software you deem threatened from anywhere in the world. Chances of somebody finding it on you were so slight, it was worth the risk.” RG spoke briskly as he field dressed Josh’s arm. “A glass of brandy or bourbon would help the man, more than your admiration,” RG suggested.

  Cat backed away, returning with a tray of glasses holding two fingers of bourbon. “I think we can all use some.”

  “To catching Maddox.” RG tossed back the liquor with satisfaction. “He’ll be charged with at least five counts of murder, treason, kidnapping, and other lesser infractions. He won’t be coming out again. He’ll give up the traitors in NDD and NSA.”

  “Max will get justice.” Josh sighed. His color came back as the bourbon did its job. He sagged onto the sofa, stretching his long body down the length.

  “Maddox is on his way to the General Hospital under heavy guard. As soon as they’ve patched him up, the FBI will question him. Nothing left for us to do but our debriefing with the locale police and FBI agents leading the case. Let’s go get it over with.” He lifted Josh from the couch as if he were a throw cushion.

  Cat stood.

  “Not you. Stay put. A doctor’s on the way to check you over. The bruising on your throat looks pretty extreme. Those scratches have to be disinfected and you’re recovering from a bullet wound. I should never have let you leave the hospital.” RG rubbed his jaw. “You’ve torn open that shoulder wound. You’re some kind of soldier, Duplessis.”

  Color climbed his cheeks as he met her eyes and gave her the highest compliment. “I’ll have the FBI send someone around to take your statement. While you’re waiting, get horizontal. You’re still recuperating, and Siree will have my head if you relapse.”

  Josh paused beside her as RG tried to hustle him out. “A moment, please.” He waited until the older man went ahead, turned to her. “I’m so sorry you were hurt again, almost killed again. RG’s right. You’ve paid a high price for protecting me and my work. I’m so relieved this is over thanks to you. But I wouldn’t have had you hurt again for anything.” He pressed a kiss to her cheek. “Do what the doctor tells you. Please.”

  She paced the houseboat after they left, too wound up to settle down. An FBI agent arrived to take her statement, followed by a middle-aged woman. Identifying herself as a doctor, she cleansed Cat’s arm, checked the damage to her throat.

  Cat smiled wryly, when she heard she’d have yet more bruising and had to take another prescription of antibiotics.

  The doctor efficiently got Cat into bed and comfortable. She disappeared into the kitchen and returned with a steaming mug. “Here’s a hot toddy to soothe your throat and help you calm down. When the adrenaline leaves your body, exhaustion will take hold.”

  Cat drank the warm liquid, just to get time alone. She handed the cup to the chattering woman and snuggled lower beneath the covers.

  The doctor turned off the light. “RG asked me to stay with you. I’ll be resting on the sofa with the TV for company. Call me if you need me.” Light shining in from the main room thinned to a beam and then disappeared.

  Cat lay in the dark going over Josh’s last words to her. She had paid a high price protecting him, but not in the way he meant. She hugged her earlier decision, thankful the long siege was over. In the morning, she’d go to him, tell him she loved him. They’d discuss how to make a life together. She started imagining it, working with Josh, living with him, loving him. The sedative hidden in the hot toddy hit her, pulling her under.

  ****

  “I want to speak to Josh Chandler. Can you tell me the phone number for his room?” Dressed in a cream wool dress and coat, Josh’s favorite color on her, she smiled at the receptionist at his hotel. It was late in the morning. She slept until ten hundred hours and used up extra time on her appearance.

  “I’m afraid you’ve missed him.”

  The words sent her gaze flying to the young woman’s.

  “Mr. Chandler and his party checked out at nine a.m. this morning. I believe they took a flight out of SeaTac.”

  “Did he leave a message for me? Ms. Duplessis.” She stood shell shocked as the young woman checked.

  “Sorry, no messages.”

  Cat stepped into the street feeling so disoriented she looked around to remind herself where she was. Josh had left without saying goodbye.

  “He told you it would be the last time you saw him.” Now his words clanged on her brain like a stick hitting a cymbal.

  You thought you had control, you could move when you were ready and he’d just sit around waiting for you to act. She heard his voice yelling “Enough.” The moment when he’d taken a stand, demonstrating he’d give no more.

  An icy rain fell, graying out the streetlights and leaving puddles of cold water on the streets. She walked through them, uncaring of the discomfort.

  Where to go? What to do? She staggered into the office, feeling like she’d been disemboweled. Sam looked up as she passed his office door. His brows pulled together.

  Within minutes of sitting at her desk, her coat and boots still on, her hands idle on her lap, he walked into her office. “Should you be here? I understood they’d released you only if you rested at home.”

  Cat looked around, surprised she’d come into work. “I went to see Josh.”

  “And?”

  “And he’s gone. He just left. I thought he would still be here.”

  “Did you tell him you wanted him to stay?” His blue eyes burned into hers, tryin
g to get some message across.

  “No.” She picked at the wool of her coat. “I just tried to. He’s not here.”

  “He’s gone back to D.C. with RG. He’ll be in hearings and debriefing sessions for the rest of the week. Then he plans some down time. He has a lot to process.”

  “He’s going away? But I have to talk to him.”

  “Seems you’ve had plenty of chances to talk to him.” Sam’s eyes cooled. “I was with Josh just before he left. He was pretty ripped apart by your rejection. Haven’t you done enough harm?”

  “I know I hurt him. I’ve been a coward. Everybody I love has been killed or damaged beyond repair. I didn’t want the pain again. But this hurts so much worse.”

  “I lost my parents and sister for a different reason. I know loving someone causes pain.” He didn’t soften his stance. “So what changed your mind? Why should you get another stab at hurting him?”

  “I won’t hurt him. I’m going to tell him I love him. Even if it is too late, he deserves to know. I want to stand on the same high ground as Josh, not flounder in a swamp of fear. I won’t be able to respect myself, until I start putting good into the world instead of all my negativity.”

  “I suggest you give him time to focus on these hearings, get some rest, and bring his life back into balance. Right now, he’s pretty raw, and he might not make the choice you hope for.”

  Cat moaned at the thought of waiting even a day, to take the sting from his heart, to feel his arms close around her. She wavered at the thought he might not be receptive. While she’d turned her thinking around, he might have too. But she couldn’t let her fear stop her again. “I’ll take your advice and book my ticket for the end of the week. But I’m not waiting till he’s flown off some place I can’t find him. If knowing how I feel helps him, then I want to tell him as soon as possible.”

  “Fine. But meanwhile, get yourself home and stay there for a few more days. I’ll call you a taxi.

  ****

  The chill on top of her blood loss induced a high fever. Within thirty six hours, pneumonia put her back in the hospital. Sam appeared at her bedside, took in the oxygen mask, her fight for each breath.