by Desiree Holt
“I told her not to go on the outlying slopes with him,” Griffin put in.
“I’m not stupid,” she snapped.
“I never said you were.”
“I have to go,” Hal said. “I’ll keep you up to date, but I don’t see this resolving as fast as I’d like. Be careful.”
Terra tried to quell the sick feeling inside her as she turned to her next appointment. With all the planning that had gone into this, probably years, giving up wasn’t high on their list.
She had finished with her student and had stepped out of her skis when she saw Jennings approach the barn again and motion for his snowmobile. Maybe he was heading for the hot spot, too. She didn’t know why he, or Babic come to think of it, didn’t take his car except maybe it was shorter over the snow. But instead of heading away from the inn, he drove directly to where she was standing.
“Get into the snowmobile.” It was an order, not a question.
She put on her best professional smile. “I have another class in fifteen minutes. You don’t want me to be late, do you?”
He thrust his hand into one pocket of his ski jacket.
“I’m sure you can guess what I have here. If I have to take this out to show you, people might get hurt. Take off your skis, leave them, and get on.”
She glanced over at Griffin, who at the moment was signing in a machine. Something made him look up and, when he saw her, he shook his head.
“I don’t think you’re going to shoot me in front of a bunch of people.”
“I can shoot the people, too,” he pointed out. “And get away before anyone can stop me. Don’t tempt me, Miss Oenning. I have too much at stake.”
She didn’t doubt he’d carry out his threat to shoot innocent bystanders, so she stepped out of her skis and climbed onto the snowmobile.
“No tricks,” he told her. “Try to get off and who knows how many people will get hurt.
We’ll see.
She was surprised they didn’t head off over the snow but instead turned toward the parking lots. If he was taking his car, maybe when she shifted from the snowmobile, she’d have a chance to get out her gun. But when he pulled up between his car and the one parked next to it, he was off the machine in a nanosecond, grabbing her so hard his fingers dug into her arms.
“You shouldn’t have lied to me and pretended to be something you are not. I knew you’d be a problem.”
Then, before she could do anything, he smashed his gun against the side of her head.
And she fell into blackness.
Griffin had watched the whole thing from the entrance to the snowmobile barn. He rushed the person he was signing out then called Hal.
“Jennings just took off with Terra on a snowmobile. Fuck it. I told her to be careful.”
“If he had a gun,” Hal told him, “she was making sure he didn’t use it on an innocent bystander.”
“I know, I know, but we’ve got to get her away from him. Did Babic get there yet?”
“Yes. More than an hour ago, before we sent our first message through the loudspeakers. He doesn’t look happy, nor does the guy who opened the door.”
Griffin gritted his teeth. None of this boded well for Terra.
“We can’t let Jennings take her into that house.”
“I know that,” Hal growled. “We’ll make a plan. I’ll get back to you.”
Griffin wanted to throw the phone. This was bullshit.
“Hey, Rod,” he hollered at the supervisor. “I’ve got an emergency. Gotta take off.”
He didn’t want for an answer, simply left Rod hollering at him as he raced to his car in the parking lot. He took a moment to program the address into the GPS then turned out of the inn property so fast his rear wheels spun, and he had to fight the wheel. He tossed his phone in the cupholder and used the screen to dial Hal.
“They’re not here yet,” Hal greeted him.
“I know that. They left not ten seconds ago. Do not let him take her into that house.”
“I got it, Griffin. I wasn’t born yesterday. I assume you’re on your way, so haul ass.”
It was forty-five minutes by car to where DHS was set up but to Griffin it felt like forty-five hours. He found the truck and pulled off the road next to it. He jumped out of his car, looked through the trees, and the first thing he saw was Jennings standing in front of the house with a gun to Terra’s head. Before he could move, a heavy hand gripped his shoulder, and he turned to see Hal gripping him so tight he thought there might be fingerprints in his skin.
“Hold on here,” the supervisor told him. “I mean it, Griffin.”
“But—”
“But nothing. Shut up and listen a second.”
“You’ve got thirty seconds to catch me up to date.” He wasn’t even sure he could wait that long.
“We flew out late yesterday and, as soon as it got dark, we staged here with the truck. We have the aerial photos, so we sent guards around the property, placing them out of sight of anyone in the house. We are ready to attack if necessary.”
“Not until Terra is safe.”
“Agreed.” Hal nodded. “We’ve got a shooter in the trees where they can’t see him, but he’s got a bead on Jennings’ head.”
“That’s some distance to shoot,” he protested. “Is he that good? That accurate? What if he hits Terra by mistake?
“Take a breath, will you? This guy was a SEAL, like you, and one of their best snipers. I think he’s got it covered. We’ve got it covered. Breathe, please.”
Griffin curled his hands into fists, digging his short nails into his palms to find some measure of control. All he could see, as he looked through the trees, was Terra with Jennings’ gun against her temple.
“What has he said? He wants to get into the house, right?”
Hal nodded. “But we’ve got the loudspeaker on from the truck. As soon as he got out of the car, yanking Terra with him, we told him if he moves, he’s a dead man. That we’ve got guns trained on him the same as he does Terra. If he wants his brains intact, he’ll let her go.”
“He won’t do it. He probably sees this whole thing falling apart in front of him, and he’s desperate to be in charge. Not to mention the battle for control between him and Babic.”
“We believe the people out here are beyond the impact of a dirty-bomb explosion, but to be sure we’ve evacuated everyone within a ten-mile radius. We did that as soon as we got here. Just in case.”
Griffin had to use every bit of self-discipline not to scream and run across the street.
“So I’m…what… supposed to wait and hope for the best?”
“No. You come into the truck while we arrange to save Terra’s life.”
Before he could move, a voice blared out of the speakers again. “Mr. Jennings. If you’d put down the gun, no one will get hurt.”
Jennings didn’t answer.
Griffin watched him carefully. Was he moving? Had he taken a step? Griffin held his breath.
“I can’t stand here and do nothing, Hal. He could kill her any second.”
“But then,” Hal pointed out, “he wouldn’t have any bargaining chips.”
“Mr. Jennings.” The voice boomed from the speakers again. “There is no place for you to go. You can’t get into the house because if you move we will shoot you.”
Jennings shouted something, but Griffin couldn’t hear because he was too far away from the house. He had to reach for every bit of his self-control. Losing it wouldn’t do Terra any good, and protecting her was his one-and-only goal.
“I’m guessing you haven’t been able to talk to anyone inside?”
“We can’t call into the house,” Hal told him, “because there’s no listed phone. I’m assuming all they have are burner phones.”
“What happens when he gets tired standing there? Any second he could decide to shoot her anyway and hope to get into the house safely.”
Hal tugged on his arm. “Come on. Let us take care of it.”
&
nbsp; “Okay.” He started to let Hal guide him to the truck but, at the last moment, yanked his arm away and strode toward the highway and the house on the other side. As he moved, he unzipped his pockets and thrust his gloves inside. At the same time he checked to make sure his gun was appropriately accessible. The taste of fear was sharp, in his mouth, not for himself but for Terra. With an effort, he pushed all of that out of his mind.
Focus, dipshit. You’re all that stands between her and a bullet in the head.
Today, more than at any other time, he was thankful for his years as a SEAL and the training he’d received.
“Dunne,” Hal shouted at him. “Griffin. Get your ass back here. Right now.”
But there was no way he was leaving Terra out there alone with this insane asshole.
“Take me, Jennings,” he shouted to the man as he crossed the road. “Let her go.”
He was close enough to talk to the man, now.
“Well, well. I thought there was something going on between the two of you. How gallant of you to offer to take her place, but I think not. It would be my pleasure to kill her.”
“Why her and not me?”
Jennings pressed the barrel of the gun a little harder against Terra’s head. “Because she’s a liar. I knew right away she was a fraud.”
“He has a friend who owns a condo near the resort in Colorado listed on my application.” Terra’s tone was steady and measured. “He did his own checking up on me.”
“I suspect everyone,” Jennings told him. “I always do my own research. I’ve been waiting to find out her real intent. I guess I waited too long.”
“You accomplish nothing by killing her,” he pointed out. “You only make things worse.”
“Nothing? I get satisfaction. You may shoot me, but my bullet will still pierce her brain. My people in the house will ignite the bombs, and some will get away to regroup.”
“But affected by the chemical effects of the bomb. So, how about it? Let me take her place?”
Jennings ignored him, tightening the arm he was using to hold Terra to him.
Griffin continued to take tiny steps toward where Jennings and Terra stood. Her lips began to move, so he focused on them. It took him a moment before he understood what she was saying.
Watch for my move.
Dear fucking god. What was she going to try?
“Come on, Jennings. I lied to you, too, and I’m a bigger target for you.”
He was about five feet from them now. Slowly, he inched his hands toward his pockets.
“Hands where I can see them,” Jennings ordered.
“Just getting my gloves. It’s fucking cold out here.”
He was focused on Terra, watching for a signal.
Now, she mouthed, and tilted her head away from Jennings’ gun. At the same time she dropped forward, breaking his hold on her. Griffin pulled his gun out and fired four shots into Jennings, hitting his gun hand with the first one. Jennings pitched forward, bleeding from both hands as well as his legs.
Griff grabbed Terra and pulled her against his body, holding her as tightly as he could. His heart was beating so hard and fast, he was afraid it would pound out of his chest.
“I thought I was going to lose you,” he mumbled against her hair. “I was scared shitless.”
“I had to leave the slopes with him,” she murmured. “He would have shot anyone who tried to stop us.”
“I know, I know. But damn it, all I could think about was all the things I hadn’t said. That I’d come to realize things, and it would be too late to tell you.”
“I’m here now.” She managed to lift her face. “But I think before anything else I could use a stiff drink.”
He managed a shaky laugh. “Me, too, darlin’. Me, too.”
Chapter 12
Griffin wanted to take Terra back to the inn right away. Or even, maybe, someplace away from everything. Someplace where they could talk. In the few minutes it had taken for him to cross the road and for this situation to resolve, he’d thought of what his real feelings for her were. Feelings he’d never wanted to allow himself for another person. It took nearly losing her to realize what he wanted with her, the reality of it shocking him, and he wanted to get the words out.
But Hal told them not to leave yet.
“Get in the truck,” he shouted as he and others raced past the two of them.
The moment he’d shot Jennings, the sniper waiting in the trees had shot at first one then the other rifle barely visible to the naked eye. He figured they’d hit their targets because no bullets came flying out of the windows.
Members of Hal’s team had rushed the house, a practiced assault team that managed to neutralize the people inside one way or the other. Getting to them before they could explode the bombs. Two of the terrorists shot themselves, chanting a prayer as they did so. Others were either shot or restrained by members of the team.
Griffin and Terra climbed into the truck and sat by the equipment in total silence, just looking at each other. Words would come later, he promised. Right now he was enjoying the fact they were both alive.
Hal climbed into the truck, sat down in front of the array of equipment, and called Washington.
“It’s done,” he reported. “Yeah, everyone’s alive except two fuckers who killed themselves. No loss there. No, no bombs exploded, and the team is cleaning up now. Yeah, you’re right. It could have been a lot worse. We were prepared for it to go to shit. What? Yes, Terra’s fine.” He chuckled. “I think Griffin’s worse off than she is. Okay. Sure.”
He held out the satellite phone in his hand.
Griffin frowned. “What?”
“The Secretary of DHS, the big guy himself, wants to speak with you. Come on, Get it over with.”
Griffin heaved a sigh and took the phone. “Hello, Mr. Secretary. “
“I believe congratulations are in order. Well done there.”
“Thank you, but it was a team effort. Hal really saved our bacon.”
“Maybe,” the man said, “but you did all the prelim work. It won’t go unnoticed. Pass me over to Terra, if you would.”
When he handed her the phone, she raised her eyebrows. “What?”
He grinned. “Your turn.”
It was short, as his had been, but he was glad her work was being recognized also.
“Here.” She held the phone out to Hal. “He wants you.”
“Yes, sir?” Hal listened. “Of course. If you don’t mind, let me get Griffin and Terra out of here and have the team finish cleaning up. We have a lot to process, both people and material. Will you be available in a couple of hours? Yes, that’s right. Okay. I’m not sure where we’ll be, but I’ll let you know. Okay. Thank you, sir.”
He disconnected the call, placed the phone on the counter, and turned to Griffin and Terra
“You guys can get out of here. Go on, but stay available because tomorrow we need to meet for breakfast and outline the after-action report.”
Griffin nodded. “Let us know where and what time, and we’ll be there.”
He practically dragged Terra out of the truck and to his car.
She let out a long, slow breath. “I think I’m still shaking.”
“I think you are the baddest badass I’ve ever met,” he told her. “You really kept it together out there.”
“I knew you’d save me.” She said the words without even a touch of doubt.
“You must have a lot of faith in me.”
“I do.” She spoke the words in a soft voice. “I’ll even say it again if we can get a drink somewhere. I’m not sure I’ll stop shaking until tomorrow. Can we go to a bar someplace? Castile, maybe?”
“I’ve got a better idea. How about you close your eyes and try to relax for a little bit.”
Damn, he sure hoped he could pull this off.
It took a little maneuvering and a couple of bribes, but a half hour later they were at the Downeast Bed and Breakfast in Bangor, in a room with a huge four-p
oster bed, wine chilling in a silver cooler and a tray of goodies waiting for them to snack on. Terra seemed a little shell shocked and stood there looking around. “How did you even know about this place?”
“One of the snowmobile customers was talking to someone about it, so I looked it up online.”
She quirked an eyebrow. “Did you already have this in mind?”
He took both her hands in his, kissed the knuckles on each one. “Not necessarily, until last night?”
“Oh?” She frowned. “What happened last night? Oh, wait.” She grinned. “You mean a reward for stupendous sex?”
“There’s a big old tub in the bathroom. I vote for getting into it—together—and then I’ll tell you my story.” He paused. “If you want to hear it.”
“I do.” She almost whispered the words.
“Then let’s pour some champagne and get it done.”
Minutes later, they were both in the tub, Terra lying between his thighs and reclining against his body. He lifted his glass of champagne and took a sip.
“So this is the way it is,” he began.
And he told her the story of a woman named Leanne, bright, beautiful, and an accomplished cellist, who toured everywhere with her quartet. They met when Griffin was on leave in Rota, Spain and clicked at once. They spent every one of his leaves together and, when he had extended ones and she was touring, he followed her. They were making plans to get married when she suddenly ended up in the hospital. The diagnosis was pancreatic cancer. Stage four. He insisted they get married at once. She stopped touring, and he took leave. They made every minute together count. And, six months later, she was dead.
Just the retelling opened up that place where he’d hidden it for so long, and all the repressed pain poured out. He realized tears were pouring down his face, but he didn’t care. In a way, this was a catharsis for him, and it shocked him how glad he was glad to get it out.
He had no idea how Terra would react, but when she grabbed both of his hands and squeezed them his panic subsided, and a warm feeling flooded his veins.
“I never wanted to share my life with anyone since then, until you came along,” he told her. “I was afraid to take the big leap, plus we were on an assignment. I tried to block it, but it wasn’t happening. So. Say something.”