Big Guns Out of Uniform (10 page)

He gave Reno a cold, brutal look before those piercingly blue eyes moved back to her. “You'd be wise never to accept my word on anything, but if I kill Kyle, I'd have to explain it to Joe, and then he'd get bent and then I'd have to kill him, too, and that would make his woman go wild on me. And it's all just more trouble than even I want to deal with at the moment. So, see, he's safe.”

There was a light in his eyes that said he would enjoy the challenge of the fight in spite of what he said, but there was also something charming and oddly warm about this man.

Marianne nodded quietly at him. “He'd better be safe,” she warned him. “I don't know who Joe or his woman is, but if you do anything to Kyle, I swear Joe's woman going wild on you will seem like a walk in paradise compared to what I'll do to you.”

 

K
YLE STALKED BACK
and forth in anger as he tried to figure out who could have taken Marianne while he slept.

He discounted the morons on the other side of the island. He'd been hanging them from trees and escaping them with barely more than a fierce growl. They could never have perpetrated anything like this.

It would have to be someone stealthy. Someone who knew how lightly he slept and how to move about without waking him…

He cursed as one name resonated in his head.

Retter.

There was no one else it could be.

Kyle's sight clouded at the thought. It had to be. Retter was the only man Kyle had ever known who could maneuver around him while he slept and not wake him. The man was part ghost.

But how did Retter know about Tyson Purdue?

He'd made the name up and…

He paused as he glanced back at the chicken and the crisp handwriting.

There must be a bug on him somewhere. There had to be. Joe was ever paranoid about losing agents and bugged almost every piece of equipment they had. The only reason Kyle hadn't thought of it sooner was the fact that every time he called Joe demanding a ride out of this place, Joe had laughed at him and told him to get lost.

It had never occurred to him that Joe would have the stuff on the island tagged, but since he'd raided the BAD supply closet for supplies, he should have known.

“Damn it.”

Pissed and wanting blood, he called the number again.

No one answered.

So he dialed Joe's office, where Joe's assistant director, Tee, picked it up on the third ring.

“Tee, this is Kyle. Is Joe in?”

Tee Ho was the extremely attractive assistant director of the agency. She was a Vietnamese immigrant, and her intelligence was off the scale. So was her memory and her need to exact revenge on anyone dumb enough to mock her name. It was a mistake Kyle had made only once, and he was lucky he didn't have a permanent limp from the experience.

She was a top-notch agent and Joe's right hand, and she never let anyone forget those two facts.

“Well, well, Mr. Foster,” she said in her crisp, flawless English—Tee could speak somewhere in the neighborhood of fifteen languages fluently—“how nice of you to finally check in. Blown up any busboys lately?”

“I beg your pardon?”

“Please, don't beg, it's not becoming of you, Mr. Let-Me-Kidnap-a-Woman-and-Drag-Her-Back-to-
My-Cave. Joe is so hot about you right now, you're lucky you're still living. He's on the phone with Wulfgar Zimmerman from Rose Books trying to assure him you haven't hurt Marianne and that she will be returned to him shortly.”

“I'm not the one who hurt her. Retter kidnapped her from me this morning.”

Silence answered him for a few heartbeats until Tee started laughing.

“It's not funny, Tee.”

“Sure it is. You're just mad he got away with it. At least he didn't punch you in the nose before he grabbed her. The actor playing Brad Ramsey, in case you're wondering, is fine, but bruised. He also quit his job and was threatening to sue us until I introduced him to Tessa and convinced him that a lawsuit would be extremely hazardous to his health.”

Tessa was Tee's prized Glock 33. Which was only slightly more deadly than Tee's other lethal weapon, Petey the killer Pomeranian.

“I swear, I'm going to kill Retter for this.”

“Uh, no, you won't, hon. He's vital to national security and falls under extreme protection.”

Kyle growled into the phone. “Then tell me how to get ahold of Retter and call him down.”

“Ooo,” she breathed. “I don't think that's possible. See, he was off in Rio having a grand old time on the beach when Joe had to call him in to come get you away from Wulfgar's tourist. You were bad, Kyle, not BAD. So sorry. If you want to talk to Retter, then call him. There's nothing I can do.”

She actually hung up the phone.

“Fine,” he said loudly, hoping that whatever mic was hidden, it picked up his voice. “You'd better hide, Retter, because tonight I am going to kick your rotten ass all over the beach.”

 

T
HREE HOURS LATER
Kyle came across the beach, loaded for bear, or in this case, loaded for Retter.

He'd fought beside the bastard enough to know what he needed to beat him. And beat him he was going to do.

For the last three hours Kyle had done total recon on the island. There was only one place where Marianne could be.

One place Retter would deem “secret.”

He already had the small cabin in his sights. It sat alone at the base of a small mountain. It was used for supplies that Joe didn't want near the hotel in the event of a fire or something else that might make it explode.

Kyle didn't break stride or hesitate as he headed for it. He was less than three yards from the door of it when he heard a sharp click.

Cursing, he dived away from it an instant before the shack blew apart.

Debris rained all around him.

Kyle couldn't breathe as terror overwhelmed him. Marianne!

“It's not sundown, Kyle.”

Kyle saw a two-way radio in the sand a few feet from him. He got up and grabbed it. “Where the hell are you, Retter?” He looked around, scanning everything.

“Look up.”

He did and found Retter, Reno, and Dieter standing on the cliff. Marianne was nowhere in sight. “What kind of game are you playing?”

“Hide-and-seek. If you can find Marianne, I'll let you keep her.”

“And if I don't?”

“Your loss. Literally.” He saw Retter motion for Reno and Dieter to leave. Once they were out of hearing range, Retter spoke again. “Do you feel her loss, Kyle? Tell me the truth.”

Yes, he did. He'd been feeling the emptiness of it since he'd awakened and found himself alone again.

Every minute he'd been away from her, he hurt. The desolation inside him was unlike anything he'd ever known.

He didn't want to live without Marianne.

But Lucifer would freeze solid before he ever admitted that to Retter. “Go to hell.”

“I most likely will, but in the meantime the clock is ticking for you. If you don't find her by nightfall, it's over, and you, my friend, are on a plane out of here.”

It was all Kyle had wanted. But that was before he'd met Marianne and had learned to have fun without explosives. Fun without someone taking potshots at him.

What would he do without her?

He didn't want to find out. Tossing the radio down, he backtracked through the woods and tried his best to focus on where Retter would have hidden her now.

 

M
ARIANNE SAT IN
the lobby of Kyle's hotel, wrapped in Kyle's jacket. The scent of his body clung to it, making her want to bury her face in the sleeve and just inhale it until she was drunk from the scent.

Sam sat behind the concierge counter, staring at her. His old basset hound lay beside him on its back with all four of its paws up in the air.

“Are you sure that dog's not dead?”

Sam glanced at him. “Nah, ole Roscoe always sleeps like that.”

She nodded, then frowned. Sam was a strange bird. “How long before Kyle gets here?”

“I dunno. Depends on what Retter does to him for taking you.”

“Do you think they'll be really harsh on him?”

“Well, back when I worked for the CIA, we'd have killed him for being such a pain, and Retter might yet. He's got a lot of the old school in him.”

Marianne felt the color drain from her face.

“But his boss, Joe, is a bit more understanding about such things, so it's hard to say. I figure the worst thing that could happen to Kyle is nothing.”

“What do you mean?”

“Well, he must have thought a lot of you to keep them actors and all on their toes. He had to have known that sooner or later Mr. Zimmerman would call in Joe to come get him. So to my way of thinking, he must have thought you were worth the trouble that's now coming his way.”

Before Marianne could speak, Aislinn Zimmerman came running into the lobby. She was followed by an extremely tall, devastatingly handsome man. There was an air of refined elegance to the man, who wore an expensive tailor-made suit.

“Oh, Marianne!” Aislinn exclaimed. “Thank goodness they found you. We have been worried sick.”

The man with her rubbed his brow as if Aislinn's dramatics were giving him a headache.

He held his hand out to Marianne. “Hi, Ms. Webernec. I'm Wulfgar Zimmerman, and I just wanted to tell you personally how sorry I am for your ordeal.”

So this was the mysterious owner of Rose Books. He was devastating and rumored to be one of the richest men in the world. Marianne shook his hand. “There really is nothing to apologize for. I've had the time of my life.”

Aislinn snorted. “Yes, but that was before that lunatic Kyle Foster ruined it.”

“You're the one who put her here, Ais,” Wulfgar said calmly.

Aislinn turned on her brother with a snarl. “Well, the next time the island is occupied by
them,
I wish you would put something down on paper.”

He arched an elegant brow. “Forgive me, but I thought the word
occupied
on the schedule was self-explanatory.”

“I thought you meant it was occupied by
our
people, not
theirs.
You're supposed to put
training
down when they're training here.”

“Excuse me,” Sam said, interrupting them. “But I take exception to that. Me and Roscoe are always here, and we definitely fall under the
them
category.”

“You're you, Sam,” Aislinn explained. “You don't count.”

Sam looked extremely offended by that.

Wulfgar shook his head. “You'd better stop while you're behind, Ais. You're just getting in deeper at the moment.”

Aislinn ignored the men and took Marianne's arm. “Don't worry, hon. I'll take care of this mess. We'll extend your stay another week and get back to your fantasy.”

“It's okay, really,” Marianne said. “I've had a great time with Kyle.” She stared up at Wulfgar, hoping to make him understand. “Look, I don't want Kyle to get into trouble. Had he not shown up, I was ready to call you and ask for the fantasy to be canceled.”

“Really?” Wulfgar asked.

She nodded.

He looked at his sister, who appeared horrified. “Well, how was I to know Brad was having an affair with Spencer?”

“I don't want to go into that again, Ais, but this is the last time I leave a fantasy package up to you.”

“Fine,” Aislinn snapped. “I don't want to do another one anyway. You get entirely too cranky when the guest goes AWOL. So I leave it up to you from now on. I'm through.” Aislinn stalked out of the hotel and left Marianne alone with Wulfgar.

Wulfgar gave her a patient stare. “Tell me something, Marianne. What could possibly make this story turn out to be a happily-ever-after for you after everything that's happened?”

Marianne opened her mouth to say having Kyle as her own, but the minute the thought occurred to her, she realized something.

Mr. Zimmerman might be a billionaire magnate. But he couldn't give her the one thing she needed.

Only Kyle could do that.

And right now she had no idea if he even wanted to.

K
yle searched all the likely places Retter might have stashed Marianne.

He was out of options.

Disgusted and angry, he leaned back against a palm tree at the edge of the beach and raked his hands through his hair. If he closed his eyes, he could feel Marianne with him. Feel the touch of her hand on his skin. The warmth of her body under him.

He just wanted to see her one more time.

“C'mon, Kyle,” he said to himself. “Think through this. You've never given up on anything in your life. You can do it.”

Nothing had ever been more important to him.

He had to find her.

The best hiding place is always the most obvious. No one will ever think you're dumb enough to put something there.
Kyle froze as Joe's words from training went through his mind.

Most obvious…

Surely Retter wouldn't have done that. He was never obvious. The bastard loved being complicated and vague.

But the more he thought about it, the more sure he was that Retter had chosen someplace easy. After all, Retter wouldn't think he'd think to look there.

Running as fast as he could, Kyle headed back to his hotel. Time seemed to slow down as he ran. He couldn't remember anything ever taking longer.

Please let me be right….

If he was wrong, then he was totally screwed.

As soon as he reached his hotel, he went crashing through the door, only to find Sam sitting at his desk, watching TV.

There was no one else in the place.

No one.

Damn it to hell!

It had been a stupid thought.

His heart heavy, Kyle actually wanted to cry in frustration. What would he do now?

“Welcome back, Mr. Excitement,” Sam said, looking up from the TV. “Heard you've had a high time with them weirdos from the other side of the island. I told you not to go over there, didn't I? Told you they'd do strange things to you.” He paused as he adjusted his glasses and frowned. “You okay, boy? You don't look right.”

Kyle couldn't speak. All he could do was struggle to breathe past the pain in his chest. One that had nothing to do with his mad sprint and everything to do with what he'd lost.

“Where's Marianne, Sam? Have you seen her?”

Please tell me she's here….

Sam scratched his cheek. “Well, she was here a while ago, but that Mr. Zimmerman from the publisher came and took her away.”

Kyle's heart leaped with hope. “Where did he take her?”

He shrugged. “Marianne said she wanted to finish out her fantasy. I'm not sure what that means.”

She must be on the other side of the island again, which meant he could find her.

Sam opened up the small red Igloo cooler at his feet and pulled out a cold beer. “Here,” he said, twisting the cap off. “You look like you could use a drink.”

“No, thanks. I've got to find her.”

Sam nodded as if he understood. “You know, I had a woman I loved once. Long time ago.” He sighed dreamily. “Her name was Ethel Burrows. Oh, she was beautiful. Smart. Quick as a whip. She made me feel like I could fly.”

Kyle frowned at his words, wondering why Sam was sharing this with him when Sam usually shared very few personal things. “What happened to her?”

A sad, faraway look covered Sam's face. “Me, mostly. I didn't ever tell her how I felt about her. I was about your age and working for the CIA all the time. I was afraid to take a wife. Afraid I'd get killed, or she might be in danger. Either way, I knew I wouldn't be home much to be with her. I didn't think it would be fair to her to be married and have to go off on missions while she stayed behind with my kids.” He pierced Kyle with a dark, meaningful look. “I never stopped to think about what would happen if I
didn't
die.”

“What do you mean?”

“Well, at the time I had fourteen more years of active service before they sent me to the desk or retired me. Fourteen years seemed like forever when I was twenty-eight. It didn't dawn on me that I'd be spending more years than that alone, wondering what would have happened to me if I'd just asked her to marry me.” Sam reached over to scratch Roscoe's ears. “But that's okay. I've got Roscoe here to keep me company in my old age.”

Kyle stared at the man and his dog, and in that instant he saw a very sobering future for himself. One he didn't want to even contemplate.

“Thanks, Sam.”

Sam nodded at him and started drinking the beer he'd offered him. “Don't make my mistakes, Kyle. Go find your woman and tell her what she means to you.”

Kyle tore out of the hotel and headed for the other side of the island.

He had a destiny waiting for him, and come hell or high water, he was going to find it.

 

A
T LEAST THAT
was what he thought. By five o'clock Kyle knew it was hopeless.

Marianne was nowhere on the island. Nowhere.

He'd searched every place he could think. Every corner, every cranny.

It was as if she'd vanished off the face of the earth. Of course, none of the busboys or actors from the other side would help him. Hell, they barely spoke to him after the trouble he'd given them while they had tried to find her and he'd scared them off.

It seemed they thought turnabout was fair play.

One of the little bastards had even laughed at him when he'd asked if the man had seen her.

That was okay. He'd stopped laughing the minute Kyle shot out his tires.

At four-thirty he'd finally found Aislinn Zimmerman in Marianne's hotel, debriefing the staff for their next guest, who would be arriving within the next few weeks. The redhead had promptly read him the riot act for screwing up the one and only fantasy her brother had entrusted her to run entirely on her own.

“You want Marianne?” she'd snapped at him. “Then find my brother. Last I checked, she was flying off on his private plane back to civilization.”

Kyle had gone immediately to their airstrip, only to find out Wulfgar Zimmerman was long gone.

Which meant so was Marianne.

Damn it!

Defeated and tired, Kyle walked the long distance back to his side of the island. He didn't stop to say good-bye to Sam, though he should have. He just couldn't face the old man right now.

So he bypassed the hotel and went straight to the private airstrip they used, which wasn't all that far from where he'd been hiding with Marianne. His throat tightened at the thought.

Retter was standing by the small luxury jet, waiting for him.

“You're right on time.”

“Stay away from me, Retter. In the mood I'm in, I just might kill you.”

“No luck, huh?”

“Shut up.”

Retter stepped aside so that Kyle could reach the stairs to the plane.

Kyle snarled at him as he paused by his side. “I really hate you for this. Couldn't you have given me twenty-four hours before you came crashing in?”

“Would that have been enough?”

No, it wouldn't have. It wouldn't have made any of this a bit easier to swallow. Shoving Retter aside, Kyle ascended the stairs and bent his head down to enter the plane.

Retter was only a few steps behind him.

He saw Reno in the cockpit, wearing the pilot's headgear, waiting for them.

“So what did you do with her?” he asked as he took a seat up front, not far away from Reno.

Retter shrugged as he sat down in the row across from him. “Talked to her for a while. I found her fascinating.”

Kyle saw red at his words. “Don't talk about her like that. She's too good for you.”

“She's too good for
you,”
Retter shot back.

Kyle didn't say anything. It was true.

It still didn't lessen the pain he felt.

Reno started making their flight plan.

In that moment Kyle knew what he needed to do.

He stood up again. “Reno,” he said as he neared the cockpit. “I want you to fly us to Peoria.”

Reno's jaw went slack. “Excuse me?”

“You heard me.”

“I can't do that,
mi hermano.
Joe wants you home.”

“Fuck Joe and what he wants.”

“Whoa,” Retter said, moving to stand behind him. “I think you need to take a more civil tone, bud. Have you any idea how much your little ‘date' has cost us already? There are countries with a smaller GNP than the tab you've spent on Marianne. Now you want us to fly your ass to Peoria?”

“Fine,” Kyle said angrily. “I'll just book the flight when we land in Nashville and head out then.”

Retter shook his head. “Are you insane? Joe will fire you for this.”

“Then let him.”

Retter's face hardened. “Think about this for a minute, Kyle. You'll lose everything. Is she worth it?”

He didn't even have to hesitate. “She's worth everything in the world to me.”

To his surprise, Retter stepped back and smiled.

Three seconds later the rear emergency door was ripped off the airplane and a smoking canister was thrown into the aisle.

Before Kyle could reach for his weapon, a small commando dressed all in black tripped through the doorway, carrying an M-16.

She paused at the opening and stared agape at the plane. “Wow, this is really nice.”

Kyle smiled the instant he recognized that less-than-fierce voice. Not to mention he'd know that body anywhere, even when it was decked out in ill-fitting fatigues and her face was covered in black paint.

It was Marianne.

And she was joined by another commando he recognized as Dieter, also dressed in full commando gear. “Terrorists,” Dieter whispered to her loudly, “hostage, remember?”

“Oh, yeah,” she said, gripping her weapon and looking fierce, or at least as fierce as a high school teacher could look. “Don't anyone…” She started coughing from the smoke as she moved through it.

Dieter pounded her lightly on the back and nudged her out of it. “It's okay. Breathe deeply.”

Marianne coughed a few more times and nodded. “Don't…” She coughed more.

“She says don't move,” Dieter finished for her.

She started toward Kyle, only to be stopped the instant her gun got wedged between the two seats on opposite ends of the row. She
whoofed
as it caught against her middle.

“That thing's not loaded, is it?” Kyle asked Retter.

“Hell, no. I told you I spent the day with her. Last thing I want is to be shot dead by friendly fire.”

Dieter helped her get unhooked.

Retter held his hands up.

“You!” Marianne said, waving Retter aside with her gun. “Stay out of my way or I'll blow your head off.”

“Yes, ma'am.” Retter moved toward Reno.

Marianne took another step forward with her gun a little higher this time. “I'm Ren Winterbourne, Secret Agent, and…um…um…um…” She paused, thinking. “Wait a second…I'm Ren Winterbourne, Secret Agent, and…”

“And I'm here for the hostage!” Reno shouted out.

Kyle turned to see Reno in the cockpit with a copy of the book for Marianne's fantasy.

Marianne took a step toward him, but Dieter caught her and showed her how to walk down the aisle without catching the gun on the seats.

“Move, you scum,” Reno prompted again.

Kyle stared at Marianne as she came even with him. He couldn't take his eyes off her.

“Hey,” Reno said, raising his voice. “Move, you scum. This is the part where you make the terrorists get down on the ground and tie them up.”

“Bullshit,” Retter said. “This is the part where she shoots the pilot.”

“Nein,”
Dieter joined in, moving past them toward the other two. He pulled a copy of the book out of his back pocket and opened it up to a bookmarked page. “She makes you get down, Retter, and eat the floor. It says so right here. You must get down.”

“Yeah and this is the part where you get sent back to Pakistan, Adolph. I'm not kissing dirt for nobody.”

“I am not Adolph, I am Dieter.”

Kyle was only vaguely aware of the others arguing about the book. His attention was solely on the woman before him.

“Were you really going to fly to Peoria?” she asked him.

“Well, yeah. I thought that's where you were. Aislinn told me you were on Wulfgar's plane.”