He could still see the marks he’d left on her neck and chest exposed by the scooped neck T-shirt she’d pulled on in front of Brett earlier. He remembered the way his ex-friend had ogled her as she dressed. There was an extra punch in the face reserved for him when Cam caught up to the bastard.
At a jog, they reached a rise in the road when an explosion rocked the ground they stood on. The propane tank had finally surrendered. He grabbed for Audrey, shoving her to the dirt, landing on top of her with an “oof.” After the initial shock, nothing more came at them. They heard the whoosh of flames, the crackle of burning wood, but it didn’t reach them here.
Her hair tickled his nose, its slight floral fragrance still discernable through the smoke and dirt. He caught himself on a deep inhale and stopped abruptly, attempted to ignore that his dick was wedged against her ass. He was too aware of her, especially after last night, when her body had been his for the taking. And he’d done plenty of that. He felt himself growing hard, so he crawled to his hands and knees, allowing himself some time to get back to normal.
She rolled to her back. Their gazes met. Heat of a different sort kindled in her eyes. She was as aware of him as he was of her. The air crackled around them like the flames in the cabin. A flush washed through him that had nothing to do with the out-of-control fire and explosion.
“I was so scared you wouldn’t wake up in time, that you and I would die, never able to see the other one again,” she whispered, lifting a hand to his bruised and battered face, caressing his cheek with a gentle touch. He closed his eyes, turned and kissed the palm of her hand.
“I hated being helpless,” he replied, voice hoarse. “I thought he’d taken you with him. I was going to kill him with my bare hands if he had. I still might.” He bent his head to kiss her lips, sank into their eager softness. She deepened the kiss, hands going to the back of his neck, pulling him to her. It was tempting. Damn tempting to reaffirm their lives in wild abandon, but he resisted.
Battling her considerable power over him, he shook his head. “Not now. Lord knows I want to, but we’ve got a murderer to catch.”
She grimaced, and he allowed himself another taste of her lips. Not enough. He didn’t think he’d ever get enough of her. His dog tags swung loose, bouncing off her chin. She wrinkled her nose.
“When you say it like that, how can I resist?” She kissed him again, a quick peck, before she pushed on his shoulders. He rose to his feet, shooting out a hand to help her up. Sharing one more smoldering look, they continued their trek in silence, both listening for footfalls ahead of them, or the start of an engine.
Brett had to have hidden his car nearby. He wouldn’t have walked very far to the cabin. Cam’s gaze swung left and right, searching for him, a vehicle, or both.
They hadn’t put much space between them and the obliterated cabin when he pulled up short, raised a hand, and cocked his ear toward the upward trail. He thought he made out voices. Plural, not singular. That perplexed him. He’d figured Brett was working alone, making his way up the terror cell ladder, if there even was such a thing. Having an accomplice threw a disturbing kink in the wheel.
Audrey stood behind and to the side of him. By her expression she heard the voices as well. When she silently stepped around him, moving closer to Brett and the UNSUB, Cam about shit himself. What the hell was she doing?
He reached for her elbow but she evaded him, creeping forward as nimbly as a cat. The ferns and undergrowth that carpeted the redwood forest absorbed her footsteps. Vowing to take her to task for her recklessness once they were alone, he followed her, placing his feet where hers had been, until they’d gotten close enough to make out the conversation.
Brett was speaking, and he wasn’t happy with whoever he was talking to.
“Why the hell are you here? I don’t need a babysitter. You’re supposed to stay put until you’re activated.”
“Maybe I was.”
Cam frowned. That voice was familiar. He racked his brain to match the voice with a person he knew. Problem was, he didn’t hang around terrorists. At least, he didn’t think so.
“Why? Your part in this isn’t ready. I neutralized the threat. Go down and look for yourself if you don’t believe me.” Brett sounded petulant. He’d always hated being checked up on.
“What threat? The woman? Your ex-buddy? They weren’t part of this. You were supposed to continue surveilling—”
“She accessed our conversations. She was adding two and two together. I had to stop her. Harris was just collateral damage.”
“I don’t believe you.”
Arctic cold blew through Cam. His heart stuttered in his chest. He couldn’t breathe. He recognized the speaker. The ramifications slammed into him like a truck. Shudders coursed through him as he tried to wrap his mind around his discovery. This couldn’t be true.
“You’re miles from where you’re supposed to be. The target is your objective. Not some petty beef with your ex-girlfriend or friend. I set you up to escape your transfer to gather intel, not go rogue. You didn’t follow the game plan. You’re considered a loose cannon.”
Cam tried to focus on the words, not the speaker. They were learning important shit here, and all he zeroed in on was the fact that Chief Warrant Officer Hal Linder, whom he’d just updated the other evening by phone, was discussing terrorist activity with Brett in the redwoods.
Chapter Seventeen
Cam was acting weird. Audrey couldn’t describe it any better than that. He’d pulled aside a fern frond and was gaping at the back of the UNSUB. His eyes were wide, like a shock victim’s. His response didn’t match what they were overhearing. It was almost as if he knew the speaker.
“I have the intel on the target.” Brett waved the flash drive. “I went to San Francisco first. I have the schematics of the location, security, and timetable. I did my part. You’re the one in the wrong place. Maybe you’ve got a separate agenda,” Brett sneered.
“Like hell I do.”
Audrey tried to get Cam’s attention, but he was in a trance, staring at the back of the second speaker as if willing him to turn around. He didn’t. The man was tall, lanky, with a close-cropped head of hair, sort of like a military cut. Both he and Brett were faced-off in front of a beat-up red truck and a gray subcompact.
“I’m supposed to refresh your memory on the long game. They think you’ve lost sight of the big picture.”
“Bullshit. I’m the best soldier they have. I’ve proven over and over that I’m trustworthy. You just want the glory. It happens all the time.”
“Harris was a fine soldier. Too smart, though. He would’ve figured everything out before we got it in motion. That’s why I let him take you. To keep him busy. But then you had to go chasing after Jenkins.”
Brett’s face reddened, turning purple with rage. He hated to be criticized. She’d witnessed that same angry expression on his face with her. His cohort didn’t know about the misplaced flash drive. He thought Brett had chased after her solely for revenge. While that had been his side plan, retrieving the information he’d hidden with her had been the real reason. He might go farther in terrorism than she thought, if his deviousness was any evidence.
“What were you planning on doing now, Gates? You’ve killed a high-profile CID agent and made good on your courtroom threat to take out your ex who turned you in. Do you really think this will all be swept under the rug?”
“That’s why you’re in the position you’re in. For damage control. You’re supposed to put the right spin to the story so that no one asks questions.” Brett strode toward the taller man, puffing out his chest and squaring his shoulders. “You’re not supposed to be my nursemaid, and you’re not supposed to activate ahead of schedule.” He pointed his finger for emphasis. The other person still hadn’t turned around, and Cam had made no sound or movement since they’d stumbled upon this meeting. She was beginning to get wo
rried about him.
She made the silent signal to move in, and he at last responded, giving a quick jerk of his head in the negative. He pantomimed that they had no guns, which was a valid point. Her lack of patience could get them killed. She settled down to listen.
“I am when you’re leaving a trail that a kindergartner could follow. I’m sorry, Guardian, but your behavior is jeopardizing the hit. You should’ve waited until afterward to exact your revenge. Because you jumped the gun, I have to take extreme measures. I’m sorry. It’s nothing personal.”
Before Audrey knew what was happening, since the conversation was like Swiss cheese to her, she wasn’t prepared for the UNSUB to pull out a Smith and Wesson with attached suppressor from inside his lightweight jacket, aim, and fire a double tap to Brett’s chest. A bright splash of red bloomed on the left side of his torso, and then Brett dropped where he stood, jaw slack, eyes blank and staring.
Audrey gasped.
The assassin whirled around. Simultaneously, Cam grabbed Audrey’s arm and threw them both to the forest floor just as two quick pops headed their way. The double thunks in the tree trunk where their heads had been a second ago meant they’d be dead if not for Cam’s quick thinking.
“I knew you weren’t dead, Harris! You’re lucky I’ve gotta jump, or I’d hunt your ass down. I’d just stay dead, if I were you. You’re going to be soon, anyway.”
Stupid, stupid, stupid. Now they knew she and Cam were alive. There were a couple more muffled reports, a motor starting up, and then the sound of the engine fading away. The forest became silent once more. Peaceful. An innocent breeze soughed through the towering trees as if nothing evil had occurred. All was quiet. Especially Brett, lying dead and sightless on a bed of pine needles not twenty feet from where they hid.
Audrey crawled to her hands and knees. Cam rose more slowly. “Stay here,” he said tersely, the first animation she’d witnessed from him. He pulled back the underbrush they’d been hiding in. She ignored his directive, following him as he stepped into the small clearing. He stopped beside Brett’s body and rounded on her.
“Damn it, Audrey! You make a piss-poor soldier. You can’t follow orders to save your ass.”
Why the hell was he yelling at her? “I’m not a soldier, damn it. I’m a civilian, so I don’t take orders from anyone. Besides, you were a wax dummy there the whole time, and now you choose to take charge? A man’s lying here dead, and you’re reaming me out over what you think is proper protocol?”
“You almost got us killed. Look at him. He’s dead, and we could’ve been, too. Orders are made to keep people alive.” He took a deep breath, but instead of railing against her some more, he swung away and wiped a visibly unsteady hand down his face.
She cocked her head. He was acting totally unlike the Cam Harris she’d gotten to know. His broad shoulders slumped, he bowed his head. He was a broken man, and she didn’t know how to fix him. She skirted around Brett, the poor bastard who’d always tilted at the wrong windmills.
She was no stranger to death but looking at Brett was unnerving. She’d slept with him, made love with him, ate dinner with him, and now he sprawled on the ground, sightless, lifeless, two bullet holes in his body. It emphasized how right she was to leave that part of her life behind. She thought she’d escaped her past of poor decisions that ended in loss of life. Unfortunately, death had caught up to her.
She went to stand directly behind Cam, who seemed to be going through his own epiphany. Tentatively, she reached out and put her hand in the middle of his back. His muscles flinched beneath it, yet he didn’t draw away. An encouraging sign.
It was her turn to inhale deeply, surprising herself by saying in a low tone, “I’m sorry, Cam. I appreciate your concern for my safety, our safety. But now it’s done, and we have to take what we know and figure out how to stop these people from more bloodshed. We’re running out of time.
“Is there someone you can contact, someone you trust, with this new information?”
He pivoted sharply, and she stumbled back. His brown eyes flashed with sorrow, anger, disbelief. “Not hardly. That was my CWO who just snuffed Brett.”
…
The words, spoken aloud, didn’t make the situation any less surreal. Cam couldn’t wrap his mind around the fact that his Chief, CWO Linder, the man who had guided him in his CID career, was a member of a sleeper cell. He’d been the one to tell Cam he was wasting his brains where he was in the Army. He’d been the one who guided him in his first CID cases, listening as Cam worked through each one. They’d broken bread together numerous times, after hours, shooting the shit late at night. That man was a traitor?
His heart ached; his stomach soured. Nothing was what it seemed anymore. Audrey wanted to know if there was somebody he could trust? Hell no! They were on their own.
He met Audrey’s gaze, hated the shock and pity he saw in their depths. He was a big boy. He shouldn’t be so stunned. His ex-friend, the guy who saved his ass a lifetime ago, was a traitor, and now his CWO was. Big deal. He had to think like a soldier, go around that obstacle and figure out their next step.
Problem was, he doubted himself. Especially after what he’d just learned. He’d made enough poor decisions on this case that he wasn’t 100 percent positive he was the right guy to assess how to go forward. Audrey didn’t need an over-the-hill, second-guessing CID agent playing Russian roulette with her life. However, on the flip side, he was all she had. All America had.
He took a deep breath. “We can’t trust anyone, Audrey. We’re on our own. We have to get out of here and figure out who the hell their target is.”
Unable to look her in the eyes, he glanced at Brett’s ride and got pissed all over again. “Are you shitting me? What’s with shooting out all the tires?”
He threw aside his self-doubts and faced Audrey. “We’re going to have to hike out of here, steal a car. Get back to civilization. By their conversation, I’m guessing there’s a hit going down this weekend in San Francisco. We’ve got to stop it and Linder. But I can’t call anyone. We don’t know who else is part of the sleeper cell.”
She’d cracked a smile at his irritation over the tires, but now a thoughtful look crossed her face. He could tell she was tired. Dark smudges marred the skin under her eyes. Her ponytail was skewed to the side, with tendrils escaping it, haloing around her face. While he pitied her exhaustion, he wasn’t sorry for how they’d spent last night. The sex had been damn extraordinary.
However, at some point it had moved beyond the sex. Somewhere along the way, in between the lust and passion, they had a meeting of the minds, a connection that had nothing to do with sex. He valued her decisions, her opinions. He trusted her with his life. There was no doubt she’d have his six, and not because he made her come multiple times. Although, that probably helped. She was just as steadfast and loyal as he.
“What about Zack?”
His mind swerved back into the thinking lane. Leave it to Audrey to come up with a lifeline.
“Could he be part of the GUWP?”
He barked a laugh. The suggestion was ludicrous. “Zack? He’s as far away from a terrorist as you can be. You met him. But you make a good point. Let’s go find us a car, hopefully a phone, too, and rattle his million-dollar cage. He needs to hear that his secret place is toast, anyway. Might as well hear it from us.” He gave her a quick kiss on the lips. He hung back as she strode toward the path, took a second to pat down Brett’s body. Clean. Not only had Chief killed him, he’d taken his wallet and that very important flash drive he’d waved around. Bastard.
He loped to catch up to Audrey, grabbing her hand and pulling her along while they looked for one of those vacation homes they’d passed yesterday.
It didn’t take them long to find an empty cabin. No one except Zack would live out here year-round. After casing the place like old-time burglars and determining that it was uninhabited, t
hey went to the attached car port. An older, black Ford Ranger occupied the space. The fallen leaves on the ground behind its tires showed it hadn’t been moved in a while.
Cam made short work of the vehicle’s driver door lock and got in. Leaning across the seat, he opened the passenger door before reaching for the wires under the steering wheel.
“I feel bad leaving Brett out there, exposed. He was a soldier.” Her voice was low, feeling out what his reaction might be.
“He’s a traitor, an escaped prisoner. And, don’t forget, he left us for dead. I don’t feel bad at all for leaving him to the predators. He’d been one himself long enough.” Just then the engine caught, sputtered, then purred. He shot her another triumphant smile that she was slow to return. She’d have to get over that concern for leaving a soldier behind. Brett had quit serving his country a while ago.
“Get in, m’lady. Your chariot awaits.” After she did, they rolled out of the carport and headed for the main road. They had to make serious time to get to San Francisco. They had a friend to visit, a target to save. And an ex-friend to incarcerate. A busy day.
Chapter Eighteen
The fog had crept into San Francisco on “little cat feet,” just like the poem described, when Cam and Audrey finally reached Zack’s penthouse building on Fremont Street. It was late afternoon, but the skyscrapers rendered it nighttime at street level.
Cam found public parking a block away, after stopping first in Fortuna so Audrey could withdraw some cash. Heading north before turning toward their ultimate goal of San Francisco in the south would hopefully keep them off the grid a while longer if anyone had reported the truck stolen. Cam didn’t think so, but it didn’t hurt to be cautious.
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