Around-the-Clock Protector (8 page)

“Not that I can recall.”

“Do you feel anything?” He smoothed his finger over the spot.

She flinched. “It’s tender.”

Pressing harder on the surface, he picked up ridging just under her skin. “There’s something there.”

She shuddered as she straightened and turned toward him.

“I heard the baby’s heartbeat.”

He wasn’t prepared for the hopeful gaze she leveled on him, or the way his emotions stirred. Emotions he always kept inert.

“Doc told me.”

“This afternoon, while you were hot-wiring the car, I’m sure I felt movement for the first time.”

Carson’s windpipe constricted. He was in uncharted waters here, and he didn’t know if he could find a map, but that didn’t change the fact that she was talking about his child. Their child.

“It’s okay. You don’t have to be excited.” Disappointment contorted her face for an instant before she turned away. “I just needed to tell someone. Can I get dressed now?”

He searched for his voice, but in the end he could only turn toward the door, listening to her clothes rustle as she got dressed.

He was an idiot. A big dumb jerk. He could take out a target and make it home alive, but he couldn’t offer up a fraction of emotional support for the woman carrying his baby?

“Dammit, Ava.” He didn’t turn around, but he was determined to apologize. To give voice to the tangle of emotions working through him. “That’s great news—”

Something cracked against his skull in blinding succession. Once…twice.

Black dominated his field of vision as he tried to turn into the fight, but she’d gotten the jump on him this time.

Unable to rise out of the darkness, Carson hit the floor with a thud.

“C
ARSON
. C
AN YOU HEAR ME
? Carson.”

He tried to open his eyes, feeling the solid mass of floor underneath him, and hearing Scott’s concerned voice.

Dragging his eyes open, he blinked until the double images came together. The back of his head throbbed like an SOB.

“Where is she?” He ground out the words as he pulled himself up into a sitting position. “Where’s Ava?”

“Gone. About ten minutes ago.”

He rubbed the back of his head and felt moisture. Glancing up, he noticed the missing stirrup from the exam table. She’d certainly picked a harder weapon this time than a wooden broom handle. He’d have to remember never to turn his back on her again.

“Did you see which way she went?”

“No. Sorry. I heard the front door and assumed it was both of you leaving. It wasn’t until I came back here to clean up that I noticed you lying on the floor.”

Carson pushed to his feet, feeling his balance stabilize. “She can’t have gone far, but you’d think she’d realize by now how dangerous it is out there.”

Scott held up his hand. “I don’t want to hear this, Carson. I’m not with the agency anymore. The less I know, the better.”

“Sorry. My mistake.” Carson grabbed a handful of paper towels out of the dispenser next to the sink and
soaked them under the faucet. He dabbed at the back of his head with the wad of towels.

“Let me have a look at that?”

“You’ve done enough, Scott. You’re sure you don’t know which way she went?”

“I got nothing, buddy.”

Carson picked up his backpack from the chair in the corner of the room and slung it over his shoulder. Concern and determination raged in his bloodstream as he dropped the bloody towels into the trash can and exited the exam room.

“I’ll keep in touch.”

Scott gave him a nod.

He strode down the hallway, out into the waiting room and out the front door.

Carson moved away from the clinic and pulled up short under an elm tree next to the street. Nighttime had settled over the city of Annandale.

Ava Ross was on her home turf. She had to be feeling safe for the first time in months. He almost didn’t blame her for wanting to strike out on her own.

Almost.

Pushing away from the tree trunk, he took a right and moved down the sidewalk. Where would she go? Her parents lived in the area—she’d told him as much when they’d spent the night together. He checked his watch. He was twenty minutes away from breaking
silence with his team, but he worried more about Ava as the seconds ticked by.

A
VA LEANED AGAINST
the side of her parents’ house, listening to the familiar sounds of the night. Crickets chirped and the occasional dog barked from somewhere in the quiet neighborhood. The smell of freshly cut grass and sweet locust blossoms hung in the air.

There were no lights on, not even the porch light—something that set her nerves on edge. Maybe she should have called first, just to defer the initial shock. After all, they thought she was dead. But why hadn’t she called them in the past four months?

She didn’t know, but in person she would appear to be some sort of unholy apparition the first time she stepped inside, and she found herself praying she didn’t give either one of them a coronary.

She pushed away from the house, staying in the shadows as she worked her way around to the back door. Maybe she should let herself in and go directly to her old room…wait until morning to give them the news.

Lifting the edge of the doormat, she fingered the key and pulled it out.

A chill ran over her skin as she straightened and surveyed the backyard right up to the tree line beyond the back fence, but she was unable to shake
the odd sensation even as she shoved the key into the lock and turned it.

The door opened.

Ava pulled the key out and stashed it back under the mat, still aware of the uneasy sensation crawling along her spine. She stepped into the laundry room and closed the door, careful not to make a sound.

A wave of relief washed over her. In spite of Carson’s mission to take her to McLean, she was finally home. At least to the house she’d grown up in.

A sound, deep and low caught her attention. Like a grunt or a muffled yell coming from the basement. She tried to place the noise, but couldn’t.

She took a step forward.

From out of the darkness someone grabbed her.

Terror sliced into her. A scream welled in her throat as arms wrapped around her, squeezing the air out of her lungs.

Ava fought, driving her elbow into the man’s ribs.

Once…twice.

But it was already too late.

Agitation coiled inside Carson as he punched in the phone number of the Lazy-B Ranch, his team’s home base of operation in Idaho.

The minutes since Ava’s escape were ticking by, and he knew their reprieve from pursuit was only temporary. Whatever she was involved in, whether voluntary or involuntary, her life was at risk…and the life of their child. He’d been so sure he’d convinced her of the danger, he’d let his guard down.

“Clandestine Pizza,” the voice on the other end of the line said.

“I’d like to order a large sausage and mushroom to go.”

“Twenty minutes.”

“Can you make it ten?” Carson waited for the phone relay to go through.

“Marathon. Go ahead.”

“Good to hear you, Domino. I’m in need of information
ASAP.” Carson relaxed a bit, but scanned the area surrounding the pay phone. “I’ve got a loose package. Pull her file out of the database for me, will you?”

“Hold on.”

Through the phone connection, he could hear the computer keys popping.

“There’s a problem. It’s been locked up tight. No access.”

He considered his options. Someone in the CIA had put Ava’s file out of reach. Why?

“Try Samuel Ross—he’s retired CIA. I couldn’t get an address on him from the phone book on this end.” Carson clamped his teeth together, hoping he’d remembered her father’s name right. “I need his address in Annandale, Virginia.”

“Looks like…what the hell!”

“Problem?”

“Someone just snagged the file.”

“Did you get an address?” A knot twisted in his gut and wouldn’t release.

“Yeah, barely. It’s 518 Baltimore Street. He worked covert Ops for thirty years. Watch yourself.”

“I’ll be in touch.” Carson hung up the pay phone and took off at a dead run.

A
VA WAS CONSCIOUS
, but didn’t open her eyes. Pulling in a deep breath, she let the familiar scent
of cool concrete and her mother’s perfume penetrate her brain.

She was in the basement of the house, but her hands were tied, her ankles, too, and she wasn’t alone. There was movement near her and muffled grunts, the same noise she’d heard when she entered the laundry room upstairs.

She swallowed and opened her eyes, fearful of what she would see, but determined to face whoever had restrained her.

Her gaze locked on the occupants of a sofa directly opposite the chair she was tied to.

Horrified, she stared at her parents. Both had their hands tied in front of them. They’d been gagged and bore the marks of a beating.

Lillian Ross’s head lolled back against the sofa.

Her father sat bolt upright and yelled in spite of the gag shoved in his mouth.

She looked at her dad, full of anger, then saw him motion toward the stairwell with a tilt of his head.

A chill skittered over her nerves as she glanced in the direction he indicated, watching a long shadow move along the stairwell wall.

She’d scratch the SOB’s eyes out if given the chance.

Her dad must have picked up on her rage, because when she glanced back she saw him shake his head in warning.

“Good, you’re awake, Miss Ross.”

Ava stiffened, staring at the man who casually stood in front of her. He was short and round, but it was the Russian accent in his deep voice that gave her a clue as to his identity. There was something familiar about him—some detail just outside her mental grasp.

“It is unfortunate you were rescued in Washington State. I lost three of my best comrades without so much as a peep from you. But now that we have your family for leverage, it’s time you tell me where you’ve hidden the microchip.”

Alarm coursed through her body. That explained why they’d kept her alive. They believed she had a chip, but they didn’t know where.

It all made sense. Perfect, horrific sense.

She glanced at her parents, suddenly regretting that she’d given Carson the slip. He was the only one who could save them now.

“Boris.”

Ava tensed as a bulky man stepped out of the shadows under the stairwell.

Fear flared in her father’s eyes, warning her this was the muscle behind the threats.

“Don’t hurt them!” she pleaded, intent on making the right choice.

“You have decided to give me the chip?”

She stared up into the man’s beady black eyes. If she lied, her parents were dead. If she told the truth….

By the time they were finished digging in her back with a knife, her life would be over, but her parents would survive.

“I’ll tell you where it is.”

C
ARSON STARED
at Samuel Ross’s house from behind its redbrick fence. The only light came from a narrow basement window hardly big enough for a cat to squeeze through, much less a man. He’d have to find another way in, short of walking up and ringing the doorbell.

If Ava was inside, she’d be waiting for him to charge in and take her by force. And with her daddy to back her up, the whole scenario left a bad feeling in his gut.

Irritated, he braced against the solid fence, considering his options. He let his head drop back. It thumped against the bricks, making a hollow sound.

Carson pulled away, raised his hand and rapped a knuckle against the mortar. The same hollow sound echoed back to him as he moved along the barrier, ending at the corner next to the driveway.

He pulled up short, rapping back along the bricks until he heard the sound change.

It wasn’t uncommon for CIA operatives to build an escape route for themselves and their families in case they were compromised at home, and Samuel Ross had certainly come up with an effective one.

A hollow fence ran around the entire perimeter
of his property, the entrance to which was right in front of him.

Applying pressure, he felt the brick-covered panel give way under his hand.

It popped open, emitting the smell of damp earth.

Digging in to his pack, he pulled out a flashlight and squeezed into the narrow opening, closing it behind him.

Cobwebs dragged over him and clung to his face. He brushed them away and turned on the flashlight, shining it down the aboveground tunnel.

Admiration moved in his mind as he crawled forward. The escape tunnel was ingenious. A way for Ava’s father to protect his family from harm.

Bitter memories of his own father rose inside him, enraging him.

He and Ava had grown up in two different worlds. Hers safe and loving. His violent and detrimental to everything and everyone he cared about.

Bringing his emotions under control, he pushed the rest of the way through the tunnel, intent on finding Ava and shaking some sense into her before she got herself killed.

A
VA CRINGED
as the brute jerked the rope from around her ankles and pulled her to her feet.

Her mother had come to and now watched through tear-filled eyes as the Russian moved toward her, a
sadistic grin on his mouth. “To think we had the microchip the whole time and did not know. You could have saved yourself much pain.”

“I didn’t know until tonight.” The memory of Carson’s fingertips on her skin as he felt the scar on her back gave her pause, and hope. If ever she needed his Black Ops, bad-ass help, it was now.

The Russian studied her for a moment, a glimmer of contempt in his dark eyes. “I hope it is worth it, this death you are going to endure. Boris.”

Resistance built in her body.

He untied her hands from behind her back. She was the queen of hopeless causes and she intended to earn her crown tonight.

Ava lunged for the lamp on the end table next to the sofa and grabbed it. Swinging it like a sword, she bolted for the fireplace, snagged the iron poker and dropped the lamp.

It smashed into pieces on the hardwood floor.

“Run!” she shouted to her parents, hopefully buying enough time for them to escape, but only her mother hobbled toward the stairs. Her father stayed for the fight.

She watched in horror as the bulky man head-butted him.

Her dad reeled back onto the sofa, gasping for air.

There were worse ways to die; at least she’d go out fighting.

Like scavengers on a kill, the two men stalked her, backing her up against the fireplace. “I lied. The microchip is hidden at my house. If you don’t back off, you’ll never retrieve it.”

“Now you are lying. I have been to your house. I have searched your house. There is no chip there.”

Ava swallowed. The jig was up, but not until she wreaked some havoc of her own.

She moved right, swung the poker and caught the bulky Russian on the forearm as he raised it to protect himself.

Pulling the poker away, she jerked it back to the left, but the ringleader ducked. The blow sliced the air above his head.

His cohort rushed her, locked her in a bear hug and squeezed the air out of her lungs.

An instant of blackness blanketed her before she hit the ground. The sound of ripping fabric and cool air on her skin rocked her senses.

She attempted to move, but the men held her down on the floor.

“Let her go!”

The sound of Carson’s voice laced with malice came from somewhere in the room.

Ava closed her eyes.

She heard the snap of a switchblade, but it was the feel of cold steel on her skin that froze her in place.

Pop! Pop!
Carson double tapped the big man with
the blade against Ava’s back, but not before a crimson trail of blood welled on her skin.

Half a second later he double tapped the smaller man next to him.

Fighting a tangle of irrational emotions, he charged forward, intent on her still body lying facedown.

Was he too late? His heart jolted as he crashed to his knees next to her. She’d been nicked with the knife, but it was a minor wound.

In slow motion he watched her move, and helped her turn over in his arms. She stared up at him, her look of horror subsiding along with his heart rate.

“Ava…” His throat closed and he pulled her into his arms before anger oozed up from inside him and intensified his reaction.

“You could have been killed.” He stared into her upturned face. “If you ever do that again—”

“I know what they want. There’s a microchip implanted under my skin.”

Carson closed his eyes for an instant and put his anger aside. Holding her was the only thing he wanted to do, but he sobered and shoved his 9 mm into its holster with his free hand.

The sound of her father’s voice cut into Ava’s brain, even while the feel of Carson’s protective arms relaxed her. She watched as Carson went to her parents to remove their gags and untie their hands.

A sob started deep in her chest and rattled her
body as she came to her feet with Carson’s help and embraced her parents.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered, letting her emotions go, “that you had to find out like this.”

“We’ve known for a couple of hours that you were still alive.”

“We’re just glad you’re here, honey,” her mom said, brushing the hair out of her eyes as if she was a child again.

“Is that how long they’ve been here?” She motioned to the two dead men, sprawled in front of the fireplace.

“Yeah. They ambushed us in our bed. There was nothing I could do. They said they wanted you.”

“That’s when they told us you weren’t on the plane when it went down.” Her mom locked her hand on Ava’s arm before giving her another hug.

“We have you to thank.” Samuel Ross turned to Carson and extended his hand. “I don’t know what the hell you’re doing in my basement, but I’m glad you’re here.”

Carson shook Samuel Ross’s hand, feeling the man’s iron grip. “Agent Carson Nash.”

Samuel Ross’s eyes narrowed for a moment. “Nice operation, Agent, but you need to take my daughter and get out of here. My wife put out an emergency call. An insurrection team will be here in a matter of minutes.”

Carson stiffened. The worst thing that could happen was for them to be tagged by an insurrection team.

Ava’s nerves pulled tight as she looked back and forth at the two most important men in her life. Her gaze settled on her father.

“I’m not leaving you.”

“Do your old man a favor and get moving. You’re safer on the outside with Agent Nash.”

Ava felt the blood leave her face and puddle in her toes.

“Do you trust him?” her father asked.

She considered her dad’s question, searching for the answer in her heart. “Yes.”

“Then let him help you.” Samuel Ross shoved his hands into his pockets.

Carson took Ava’s hand in his and steered her toward the stairwell, taking the steps two at a time.

He pulled her along the hall and out into the living room, stopping at the door of the coat closet.

“How did you find this?” she asked. “It’s a secret.”

“I guessed and it paid off. Your dad planned ahead.”

Ava had never really known what her father had done for the CIA for thirty years, and she was suddenly glad she’d been left blissfully in the dark. But she was glad he’d provided an escape route for his family.

Carson pulled open the closet door and they stepped inside.

Feeling around the back of the closet, she found the latch and turned it. The spring-loaded exit panel popped open.

A shiver rattled her, but she followed him through the opening, putting aside all thought of what might have taken up residence in the narrow aboveground passage.

Carson switched on the flashlight and aimed it at the exit panel less than fifty feet in front of them.

The Russians liked to work in three-man teams. With two dead in the Rosses’ basement, that left one to keep watch somewhere on the outside.

“How’d you get into the house?” he asked over his shoulder.

“Back door. There’s a key under the mat.”

“Did you see anyone?”

“No. I mean…I could swear I was being watched. It was just a feeling, but…”

“They travel in three-man teams. They’ve probably got a lookout posted on the perimeter.”

Carson paused next to the exit panel, drew his weapon and killed the light. “The street’s too exposed. He’s got to be on the perimeter. Stay here. I’ll come back for you as soon as I secure the area.”