by Penny McCall
“She has kept you from being caught again,” Irina was saying. “We will do same. And we will compensate you.”
“What makes you think I’m not compensating him?” Harmony asked.
Up went Irina’s eyebrow again, up went the corners of her mouth into that irritating little sneer. Her gaze shifted to the single chair in front of the table. “We will give him money.”
Harmony gave a slight, shocked laugh. “I think I’ve just been insulted, Cole.”
“I think you’re right.”
“I think you have no liking for FBI,” Irina said to Cole, getting in the act and managing to follow her own agenda at the same time. “They put you in jail for stupid reason. She will send you back when she is through with you.”
Cole was still fighting off the immediate, sphincter-clenching thought of going back to Lewisburg, when the rest of Irina’s implication sank in. He glanced over at Harmony and knew she’d already gotten the gist of what Irina’s deal meant for her.
“You’re going to kill me,” she said.
“They don’t have weapons,” Cole pointed out.
“They’re not going to take a chance of shooting a gun in here. Not only would it bring the police, they might hit you.”
“And they need me. But not you, and if they let you go, you’ll interfere.”
“They can’t take the chance I’ll let the FBI know what’s going on and cut off the money.”
“Very good,” Irina said.
“What guarantee do I have that you won’t kill me once I’ve done what you want?” Cole asked.
“Dead bodies are very messy,” Irina said.
“And you’ll be long gone by the time someone starts asking who made the mess.”
“The FBI will not keep promise to you, Cole Hackett. You will be returned to jail.”
Harmony kept her mouth shut, wisely, letting Cole make his own decision, even though, on the heels of her fit of honesty, she couldn’t know what he’d do.
But even though he didn’t trust the FBI, he’d made a deal with her. “I guess I have to turn you down,” he said to Irina.
“That is unfortunate. And unacceptable.”
Leo had gone dormant while they talked. Irina made a slight hand gesture, and he came to life, lumbering toward Cole as all hell broke loose.
Harmony dove for her gun, but Irina got to her first. Cole couldn’t do anything to help her because Leo threw himself the last few feet. Leo wasn’t built for speed, and his mental capacity was a big question mark, but he made up for it with sheer bulk, slamming into Cole like the Berlin Wall.
Cole hadn’t spent eight years working out just to look good, though. In prison his body had been a deterrent, especially after the first year or so when the other inmates had stopped taking him on to see if he had the meanness to back up the muscles. It had been a while since he’d had to fight, but he hadn’t forgotten the basic rules of jailhouse self-defense. Never back down, and fight dirty. And this time he had extra motivation.
He shoved the Russian off and jumped to his feet. He should have taken Leo out while he was still down, but he had to see how Harmony was doing against Irina. The answer was “not good.” The other woman had six inches and at least twenty-five pounds—all muscle—on Harmony, not to mention focus and attitude. Her task was to take Harmony out, and she clearly didn’t know the meaning of failure.
Harmony had enough training to give Irina a good fight, though; even as Cole watched she got in a beaut of a punch to Irina’s face, putting her whole weight behind it. Irina was going to need dark glasses for the next few days. But it was just a matter of time before big and mean won the day, Irina coming back with a blow to Harmony’s midsection that made Cole’s breath whoosh out in sympathy.
He started for the women, but Leo was on him again, and Cole had to concentrate on staying out of the reach of his massive arms. Pretty simple, since Leo was all bulk and no speed or planning. He just kept coming on, arms wide, trying to crush Cole in a massive bear hug. And he had stamina, damn it, along with a jaw of granite. Cole hammered his midsection and his face and it didn’t stop him until frustration and panic had Cole taking Leo out with a roundhouse kick to the head. Leo went down and Cole made sure he wasn’t getting up anytime soon, grabbing a handful of hair and rapping his head against the floor a couple of times for good measure.
He lunged to his feet and spun around, fearing the worst and finding it. Irina flipped around behind Harmony and wrapped one arm around her neck, the other coming up to the other side of Harmony’s jaw so that Irina’s arms were crossed in front of her windpipe. One quick twist and Harmony’s neck would be broken.
The table was between them. Cole knew he couldn’t get there in time to save her. He met Harmony’s gaze, saw the bare, stark knowledge of her situation before he shifted his attention to Irina. She looked back at him, eyes still hard and bright, a little anticipatory smile lifting one corner of her mouth. She didn’t go for the kill, letting the pleasure of it spin out. It was her only mistake.
Cole blew out a breath, then said to Harmony, “Remember the day you came for me? In the SUV?”
Harmony nodded slightly. She might not be a warrior, but she had the quickest mind he’d ever known, and she had no trouble connecting her predicament with Cole’s handcuff chain around her throat. She’d been threatening to shoot him then, and he’d asked her what she’d do with two hundred pounds of deadweight slumping against her windpipe. Harmony wasn’t two hundred pounds, but she’d have surprise on her side.
Irina was no slouch in the mental department, though, her eyes narrowing on Cole’s face as she realized they were going to pull something.
It all happened at once then. Irina’s muscles bunched to make the kill, but Harmony sagged against her, dropping all her weight against Irina’s arm and dragging her off balance. At the same time, Cole ran three steps, vaulting over the small table, snagging Harmony’s holster with one hand and tearing her gun out of it with the other. He had it pointed at the side of Irina’s head before she could muscle Harmony back into a coup de grâce position.
Irina contemplated her situation for a split-second, then let Harmony go, raising both hands in surrender. Harmony slumped to the floor, but Cole kept his eyes on Irina’s, kept the gun pointed at her, watching as she backed away, toward Leo. She kicked him in the side, then again until he grunted and started to stir. She never looked away from Cole, and her eyes were dark and glittering with rage.
A voice in his head screamed at him to shoot her. In eight years of living with the worst of the worst, no one had ever looked at him like that. But he couldn’t bring himself to pull the trigger. He held Irina’s gaze as Leo dragged himself to all fours, shook himself like a big, clumsy bear, then climbed the rest of the way to his feet and shuffled out of the room, Irina backing out behind him. Cole crossed to the door and watched them get into a nondescript car and drive off.
He knew it wasn’t over.
All he could hope was that he and Harmony had a lot of backup or some really big guns when they found Richard. Or that they didn’t find him at all. Because if they actually had to take on Irina and Leo a second time, one on one, he didn’t think they’d walk away.
chapter 20
HARMONY DRAGGED HERSELF TO HER FEET AND tried to get her things together while Cole went to the door and watched the Russians leave. He came back and shouldered her duffel and the laptop case. He would have carried her, too, but she waved him off. Everything hurt, even the roots of her hair, but she hid it as best she could, considering she couldn’t stand fully upright without feeling like someone was stabbing her in the side.
She made it to the car, though, and she didn’t argue when Cole insisted on driving. “Back roads” was what she said, regulating her breathing so he couldn’t tell how much pain she was feeling. “One lane.”
“I’ll keep an eye on who’s behind us,” Cole said. “Except . . . do you think they put a tracking device on the GT? I watched them lea
ve, but they could have put one on before they busted into the room.”
“They didn’t think it would be necessary,” she said, her words punctuated by shallow, wheezing breaths. “They didn’t intend to leave without you, and they thought I’d be dead. As long as the police don’t stop us, we’re good.”
“You don’t sound good.”
“I’m in better shape than I should be under the circumstances.”
“You can choose to dwell on what went wrong, or you can look at what just happened as critical training. You need to learn to fight dirty when your life is on the line. Next time—”
“There won’t be a next time. Mike is right. Everybody is right. I have no business being an agent. They told me it was because I couldn’t separate my emotions from the job.”
“They had a point,” Cole said.
She snorted out a breath. It hurt like hell, but she got her point across. “They were trying to spare my feelings. They should have told me all the self-defense and fighting classes in the world weren’t going to keep me alive because I’m a pantywaist.”
“A pantywaist?”
“A weakling, a puffball, all brains and no brawn.”
“A puffball having a pity party. Where’s the optimism?”
“You were right about that. There’s no percentage in thinking positive. When reality hits you between the eyes”—and in the ribs, and the kidneys—“it’s just that much worse.”
Cole didn’t have anything to say to that. After a while, he glanced over at her, his face looking concerned in the reflected glow from the dashboard lights. “Why don’t you get some rest?” he suggested.
It was a wonderful idea, the thought of putting her seat back and letting it all go. She needed to make sense of what had happened so she could figure out what direction to take, but her thoughts kept running in circles. She tried to reach into the small space behind her seat, and only wound up gasping in pain because she’d let herself sink into the humiliation of getting soundly defeated, and she’d forgotten about her ribs.
Cole reached back and got the duffel for her, setting it carefully in her lap.
“Thanks,” she said, trying for a minute to remember why she’d wanted it in the first place before it came to her. She pulled out her cell and dialed Mike.
When he answered, she wasn’t quite sure what to say. Cole came to her rescue again, taking the phone and filling Mike in on what had just happened.
Once he’d finished there was silence for a few seconds, then he said, “They found us because they knew we were headed to LA.” Another stretch of silence, then Cole said a couple of uh-huhs and disconnected.
“Get some sleep,” he said to her. “When you wake up, we’ll be somewhere the kidnappers can’t find us.”
She reached over, ignoring the stab of pain, to grab his wrist. “I was supposed to call them tonight.”
“Fuck them,” Cole slashed out.
“Richard—”
“They already know why you’re not calling. And they won’t hurt Richard. They screwed up by coming after us.”
“They took a risk, a pretty good one actually.” She let go of his wrist and relaxed back into her seat, squirming a little until she found the most comfortable position—not pain-free but the best she could hope for under the circumstances. “In their place I’d have done the same thing.”
“And you’d have gotten the same answer.”
“Why?”
Cole slowed to take a turn, then looked over at her.
“Why did you turn them down?” Harmony pressed. She should have let it go, but she needed an answer.
“Once they were done with me, I’d be deadweight. Literally.”
He’d accused Irina of that much to her face, and it made perfect sense. Harmony still didn’t believe he was telling her the whole truth. But maybe it was just wishful thinking.
“Get some sleep,” Cole said, not a suggestion this time so much as a conversation ender. “And don’t worry about the kidnappers. We have something they want, they have something we want. It’s time we stopped letting them run the show.”
Harmony wanted to argue, but her brain had given up what little clarity it had, and it was just too much effort to worry about anything or anyone. She didn’t complain when Cole reached over and buckled her seat belt. She let the darkness steal over her and put her out of her misery.
COLE PUNCHED THE DESTINATION MIKE KOVALESKI HAD given him into the GPS and pushed the GT as fast as he dared without risking police involvement. He didn’t believe Harmony was in any medical danger, but he was worried about her. Once she finally drifted off to sleep, he’d checked her pulse and her temperature. Sure, he hadn’t used the most scientific method, but her heart rate seemed steady, her breathing was even, and she wasn’t warm to the touch. She’d have lots of bruises, including the one blooming along the ridge of her jaw and cheek, and she was obviously in pain, but he didn’t believe a hospital was necessary. What concerned him more was the mental toll of losing the fight with Irina.
Her phone chirped and he grabbed it before it could wake her. The voice on the other end had a Russian accent. Not as thick as Irina’s; this guy had been off the boat for a while, but he was Russian all the same.
“You missed your appointment,” he said.
“We were kind of busy. I imagine you’ve already heard about it.”
“Yes,” the head kidnapper said. “You have made a very foolish choice, Mr. Hackett.”
“Did you really expect me to take you up on your offer?”
“Yes.”
“I know you’re Russian,” Cole said, “I never thought you were stupid.”
“That will earn your friend more punishment.”
“He’s not my friend,” Cole said.
“He is a friend of Agent Swift’s, yes? I think you are reluctant to upset her.”
“Why?” Cole shot back. “Because I turned you down? I’m pretty sure she’s not planning to kill me when this is all over. Can you say the same?”
“Now who is stupid? The FBI cannot be trusted.”
“I’ve been through all this with the two Cossacks you sent after me. I’m not changing my mind.” But he wondered just how much of his history they knew. “Let’s get down to brass tacks. Unless you’re low on your quota of small talk for the day.”
“Yes, let us get down to facts, shall we? One would think you are coming after Swendahl.”
“One would be right,” Cole said. He didn’t have a devious bent, as Harmony had pointed out more than once, so he was going to handle this his way. “We’re on our way to California.”
“We are not in California.”
“Cut the bullshit, Ivan. You’re somewhere in Los Angeles.”
“My name is not Ivan.” There was a beat of silence, then, “What makes you think we are in Los Angeles?”
“Because I’m not stupid, and neither is Agent Swift.”
“You will never find us.”
“We’ll see about that,” Cole said. “We’re taking a few days to rest and recuperate, and if your comrades show up, you can call the whole thing off.”
“And Agent Swendahl will be dead.”
“I don’t care if he takes another breath. Agent Swift does, but she won’t blame me if you guys murder him. You either play this my way, or I’ll tell her he’s already dead and you can go to hell for all I care. But wherever you go, you won’t be taking any extra rubles with you unless I make it happen.”
There was another brief silence. “There is only seven million dollars in the account. We will not release the agent for this amount.”
“There’ll be enough,” Cole assured him, as Harmony would have done. “And you won’t get the password to transfer the funds unless we make the trade face-to-face. And Swendahl had better be up to walking or the deal is off.”
“If what you say is true, he will be improved.”
“Good. And if I see either one of your flunkies again, it’s over. I’ll be go
ne and so will the money.” Cole hung up and, as an afterthought, said, “Harm?” concerned that she’d heard his threats, including his disinterest in Richard Swendahl’s welfare.
She didn’t stir. Cole reached over and shook her gently. No response. There was a moment of blind terror where he couldn’t decide what to do, including steer the car, apparently. The GT wandered onto the potholed shoulder, jumping and bouncing. Harmony shifted and groaned, and by the time Cole brought the car back onto the road, she was back asleep again, and he was wondering where the panic had come from.
When he didn’t have an answer twenty miles later, he decided to go with “knee-jerk reaction,” with a little bit of selfishness thrown in. Harmony was high-handed, bossy, and worst of all, perky, but somewhere along the road she’d grown on him, Cole admitted. He’d hate to see her suffer some major injury or worse, not to mention she was the only person standing between him and jail—if they succeeded in getting Swendahl free. And he’d begun to believe they could pull it off. Of course, that could be because he was flying high on the fact that he’d not only kicked Leo’s ass, he’d also pulled off a Hollywood stunt that ended up with him holding a gun to Irina’s head and rescuing the damsel in distress. He intended to rub Harmony’s face in it the first chance he got—once she stopped feeling sorry for herself. And it would be kind of hard to lord it over her if she was really hurt. So thank god she wasn’t.
THE GPS LED THEM TO AN RV PARK OUTSIDE OF COLORADO Springs. Not what Cole was expecting. RV parks made him think of retirees, not crime. He sat at the entrance for a minute, looking through the windshield, wondering what kind of an active case would be important enough to prompt Mike Kovaleski and the FBI to send an agent to this place. A Metamucil theft ring? Or, if he was being serious, maybe someone was scamming the old folks because the few that were out and about seemed to be wearing clothes from the Salvation Army thrift store like long, old-fashioned dresses and sandals, although he could see their breath fogging the air. A giant of a man stepped out of an RV not far along the main thoroughfare, dressed in what appeared to be long johns and a robe that was way too short . . .