Accidental Commando (8 page)

He had already disappeared past the bend of the corridor by the time she finished her sentence. For a big man, he moved surprisingly fast. She looked at Gonzales. “All right, Sergeant. Either you tell me what’s happening or I go find the major so he can remind you of our agreement. Is there a bomb?”

Although she’d expected a positive reply because of what she’d just heard, seeing Gonzales’s matter-of-fact nod made it all horribly real. Oh, God. Why had she ever complained about being bored?

“We should be all right here,” he said. “The explosive’s in the reception hall, in the public wing of the palace. We’re waiting for Matheson’s assessment before we risk moving the envoy—” He paused as the guards spoke to him in Spanish again. “Or the president and his cabinet to another location,” he finished.

“His assessment? You mean of the bomb? No, that’s too dangerous. What does he think he’s doing? How can you be so calm? We should all be getting out and leaving this to the bomb squad.”

“Ma’am, Sergeant Matheson
is
the bomb squad.”

Two more guards approached, only these ones were accompanied by leashed German shepherds. They walked between Emily and Gonzales, blocking his view of her for a crucial instant.

Emily didn’t stop to think. Taking a deep breath, she ran after Tyler.

Chapter 4

T
he glazed tiles beneath his back were growing damp, making Tyler’s shirt stick to the floor. The lights he’d positioned around the work area were only adding to the heat that had accumulated in the reception hall over the course of the day. He’d already discarded his jacket and rolled up his sleeves to get more comfortable. Still, he knew that most of his sweat wasn’t because of the temperature.

No matter how routine demolitions had become for him, or how many times he’d been called on to neutralize an explosive device, he knew that accidents happened. As Eagle Squadron’s ordnance specialist, he accepted the risk his position entailed. That didn’t mean he was willing to share it. This was one job he preferred to do alone.

Tyler used his heel to slide himself closer to the cabinet, then twisted his neck so he could get a better view of the bomb that was taped to the underside of the middle shelf. “It’s got two initiators,” he said into his mic. “One’s electric, probably activated by a cell phone signal. The other’s a time-delay pencil, old-school but reliable. Each has its own firing train.”

“Belt and suspenders man,” Kurt remarked in Tyler’s earphone.

“It fits with El Gato’s profile,” Duncan said. “He’s a thorough planner.”

Redinger’s voice joined the others. “What about the explosive?”

Tyler used the tip of his knife to pry off a sample of the white compound, brought it to his nose and took a careful sniff. “C4.”

“What’s your take on it?”

“It’s a relatively small charge. The material isn’t shaped or tamped. The location away from the walls indicates it was intended for anti-personnel, not demolition, but it would probably blow out this room. Could collapse the second story, too, depending on how sound the old beams are. Are the envoy and the president still secure?”

Gonzales joined the conversation. “They haven’t left the conference room.”

He felt a spurt of anger at the sound of Gonzo’s voice. “What about Miss Wright?” Tyler asked.

“I’ve still got her,” Jack said. “We’re in the interior courtyard.”

He closed his eyes and breathed deeply a few times to calm his pulse. He knew he shouldn’t blame Gonzales for losing Emily. Once she had bolted, Gonzo couldn’t have left his assigned post to chase her. He’d made the correct decision. Her safety wasn’t the mission priority, the envoy’s was.

Yet according to Jack, Emily had been on her way here when he’d intercepted her. What the hell had she been thinking? Hadn’t she realized the danger she was putting herself in?

And all for a story that would never be published.

It killed him to see how earnest Emily was about gathering her material. This wasn’t simply a job for her. She had grasped onto her work like a lifeline. Every so often there was an edge of desperation to her questions, as if she were forcing herself to talk so that she didn’t have to think. It was the same with her wisecracks. They were another strategy to avoid dealing with what was really bothering her. She was a woman who didn’t like to admit weakness to anyone, especially to herself.

His initial assessment had been right: Emily was emotionally fragile. It had to be due to her breakup. She must have really loved the guy to have been hurt that badly. At least Tyler hadn’t lied outright to her. That was the only way he could ease his conscience while still following the major’s orders. But justified or not, whenever Tyler thought of the farce they were perpetrating, he felt like something he might scrape off his boot.

Damn, he couldn’t go there. Not now. “Okay, I’d say the risk of the blast carrying that far is minimal. They should be safest where they are.”

“Looks like the bomb could have been meant to force them outside,” Duncan said. “A diversion, just as you thought. Good call, junior.”

“I’ll relay the information to President Gorrell,” Redinger said. “Can you disable the device?”

Tyler hitched his shoulders partway into the cabinet and studied the pair of detonators that had been sunk into the wad of C4. “Yes, sir.” He reached back for the tools that he’d aligned on the floor beside him and felt around until his fingers closed on the pliers. “It shouldn’t be a problem.”

“Good. Keep me posted.”

“Will do.”

The radio went silent, though Tyler knew the channel was still open. The men had suspended their usual chatter in order to allow him to concentrate. He closed the rubber-lined jaws of the pliers around the antenna, deciding to disrupt the electric firing train first. He disconnected the receiver from the battery and was easing the wire from the detonator when he heard a muted crack.

He swore under his breath and focused on the remaining initiator. The bomb wasn’t as simple as he’d first assumed.

“Sergeant?” Redinger asked.

“The backup trigger activated,” Tyler said. “I just heard the ampule break.”

“Bummer,” Kurt muttered.

Tyler set down the pliers, dried his forehead on his sleeve and retrieved his knife. The time for finesse had passed. One way or another, this was going to be over in a matter of seconds.

Emily sat on a wrought iron bench in the shadows of the courtyard, watching the fingers of light from the setting sun inch across the roof of the palace. Her notebook lay untouched on the seat beside her, but it wasn’t the encroaching darkness that had stopped her from working. She hadn’t written a word from the moment Jack had passed on the news that the bomb had been disarmed, which had been at least thirty minutes ago. She’d been trying to calm down ever since.

That bothered her. So had the depth of her concern when she’d realized that Tyler was in danger. They’d only spent two days together. Three, if she counted their stakeout at the café. She barely knew him. And this sort of task was part of his job. Jack had informed her that Tyler was the team’s ordnance specialist and had been trained to handle any number of hazardous situations. Jack had even gone on to describe several.

She couldn’t begin to imagine the concentration a person would need in order to deal with a live bomb. Tyler would have to have nerves of steel. No wonder he always seemed so steady. Staying in control would be vital to his survival. She’d already seen him in action when he’d tackled her amid a hail of bullets in her hotel room, so she knew he kept his cool under dangerous conditions.

But he was no automaton. She’d seen hints of softness, especially when he’d been talking about his family. He hadn’t been able to conceal his sense of humor, either. Just before he’d run off, he’d been smiling—or almost smiling—about his little sister’s wedding. Too bad he hadn’t had a chance to answer the question about his love life.

She drew the elastic from her hair, slipped it over her wrist and gave her scalp a quick rub. How many times did she have to remind herself? She was physically attracted to Tyler. What woman alive wouldn’t be? But her emotions couldn’t be involved. They’d been wrung dry by her experience with Christopher.

She dropped her head into her hands. She no longer wanted a man. Any man. She knew better than that.

“Hey, junior,” Jack said. “I thought you got lost.”

“Had a few details to take care of. What’s the latest?”

At the sound of Tyler’s voice, Emily raised her head and shoved her hair out of her eyes. He was walking past the fountain toward the bench where she sat, and in spite of what she’d just told herself, she felt a tickling thrill as she watched him approach.

He was holding his jacket over his shoulder by two fingers. His tie was gone, his shirt was unbuttoned to the center of his chest and his sleeves were rolled back, revealing tantalizing expanses of taut skin. The deepening shadows made him look larger somehow, accentuating his athletic body and the chiseled contours of his face. He’d looked sexy in his suit. He looked even better with the suit messed up, as if he were coming home to her at the end of a hard day.

Stop it,
she told herself. The man had just finished disabling a bomb. Of course he’d look messed up. What was wrong with her?

“The envoy’s back in her quarters,” Jack said. He pushed away from the orange tree he’d been leaning against. “The major’s running interference with the Rocamans.”

“Why?”

“Some of Gorrell’s cabinet kicked up a fuss during the lockdown. They wanted to evacuate. Guess they don’t know you the way we do.”

“They’ll get over it.”

“Dunk and Kurt are in the plaza, trying their luck at cat hunting.”

“I don’t think they’ll find him.”

“Yeah. El Gato would have disappeared when he didn’t hear a bang.”

“Sorry to disappoint him.” Tyler finally looked at Emily. “I’ll take over from here, Jack.”

Tension tightened the lines beside his mouth, although the rest of his face gave nothing away. She had a crazy urge to pull him into her arms. Was none of the men willing to acknowledge what a heroic thing he’d just done? She waited until Jack turned to go, then wiped her palms on her dress and stood. “I’m glad everything went all right, Sergeant Matheson,” she said.

“So am I, ma’am.”

She lifted her hand toward him, meaning to push back a lock of hair that had fallen across his forehead, before she realized what she was doing. She picked up her notebook instead.

A muscle twitched in his cheek. “Chief Esposito wants to see you.”

“What about?”

“He has some palace security tapes he’d like you to look through. They’re in our briefing room.” He put his hand under her elbow and guided her to a wooden door in the wall. “We can get there faster this way.”

Though Tyler’s touch was light, she could feel the same tension in his fingers that she’d seen around his mouth. “Don’t you want to rest for a while?” she asked. “Why?”

“Oh, I don’t know. Maybe because you look as if you just ran a marathon in your suit?”

“I was only doing my job.”

“Right. It’s all in a day’s work for you. Getting shot at and disarming bombs.”

“I didn’t get shot at today,” he pointed out.

“This isn’t funny.”

“I’m glad you realize that. I hope that means the next time you’re asked to stay put, you’ll do it.” He released her arm to open the door and silently gestured for her to precede him.

A flight of narrow stairs rose in front of them. Evidently, the renovations hadn’t gotten this far. Unlike the wide, airy staircase she’d used to get to and from her room, this one was lit by only a few dim fixtures along the walls and barely had space for two people to pass. It had probably been designed for servants to go about their business invisibly, and hadn’t seen much change since the palace had been built more than two centuries ago.

She placed her palm on the wooden rail that served as a banister and started climbing. “Listen, Sergeant Matheson, I realize you might be annoyed because I ran after you, but—”

“You placed yourself in danger.”

“I was just following the story.” The door swung shut, cutting off the last of the daylight. She blinked to help her eyes adjust and continued upward. “I thought I’d be able to do it better from where the action was.”

“Is this story so important to you that it’s worth risking your life?”

“Is your mission?”

“It’s not the same. I know what I’m getting into. You don’t.”

“You’re just worried that if I got blown up, I wouldn’t be able to identify El Gato.”

“I won’t deny that you’re useful to our mission,” he said. “You know that yourself. But while you’re with us, your safety is my responsibility.”

“I’ll sign a waiver, okay? It’ll release you from any liability.”

“There’s more to it than that. Because of your actions, Sergeant Norton was pulled off his assigned patrol route.”

“What do you want?” she asked. “Another apology? Fine.” She rounded the corner of the landing for the second floor and increased her pace as she started up the next flight. “I’m sorry I interfered, but don’t you think you’re overreacting? I didn’t need you or your friend or anyone else to babysit me. I didn’t mean to go near the bomb. I’d only wanted to stay with you.”

“I didn’t want you with me. If something had gone wrong, you could have been hurt.”

“And you would have been
killed.
” She halted and turned to face him. He stopped two steps below her, so for once she was looking down at him. Not that she could see much, since the nearest light was on the landing behind him. “You’ve got a lot of nerve scolding me about safety,” she said. “Doesn’t the army have robots or remote control gizmos that can go poke at bombs?”

“I was closer. It was the best course of action. Didn’t Jack explain it to you?”

“He said the bomb was meant to be a diversion.”

“That’s right. El Gato was counting on us evacuating. Otherwise, he wouldn’t have put the bomb where President Gorrell’s men would be sure to find it.”

“Sergeant Norton said it was under a shelf inside a cabinet. I wouldn’t call that easy to spot.”