Dark Deceptions (7 page)

“And if we’re lucky we won’t have to deal with it at all,” she said, turning back to the window. “Why don’t you check in with
Hannah? Maybe she’s seen something we haven’t.”

Hannah was watching the feed from Sunderland. Analyzing all activity. Using various technological applications to enhance
the information the cameras provided.

“Hannah?” Nash said, as he sat down at the table and slipped his headset on. “You there?”

“Copy that,” she responded, her voice tinny as it carried over the wires. “Not seeing anything interesting from this end.
What about you?”

“Nothing suspicious.”

“Much to your dismay.” There was a hint of laughter in Hannah’s voice.

“Hey, I’ve never pretended to be a sit-on-my-ass kind of guy.”

“You and Drake both.”

“He complaining, too?”

“Not complaining. Just lamenting the lack of action.” Drake and Emmett were stuck in Maine watching over Senator Packard.
“Packard’s pretty much sequestered himself at his family’s compound. It’s on an island and security is pretty impregnable.
So if he’s the target, we’re probably not going to see any action there.”

“At least one of the three’s taking the threat seriously. What’s happening in Annapolis?” Jason and Lara were there, eyes
on Richard Wright as he addressed a group of top military brass.

“Overkill. Whatever Wright’s private security hasn’t got covered, the Pentagon does. Although Jason’s not complaining.” This
time Hannah’s laugh was audible.

“Downtime with Lara.”

“Exactly. Anyway, I don’t think either team has anything to worry about.”

“You’re still thinking it’s Dominico?”

“Everything I’ve seen points in that direction. He’s the most outspoken of the group when it comes to Islamic extremists.”

“Which means that thanks to the man’s stubborn streak he’s made himself the perfect target for a group like Ashad.” As if
to underscore the remark, Dominico stepped out onto his balcony, five cameras adjusting automatically to follow the movement.

“You guys see that?” Tyler called over her shoulder.

“Yeah, we got him,” Nash said, frowning at the monitor. “Where the hell are his bodyguards?”

“In the hallway,” Hannah said. “Monitor five.”

Nash’s gaze moved to a grainy image of two men in black flanking the door in the hallway outside Dominico’s apartment. “Fat
lot of good they’re going to do him there.”

“Nothing else is moving,” Tyler said, studying the row of buildings opposite them. “Still, I don’t like the odds of his being
out there on his own.”

Nash scanned the monitors, and then, still wearing his headset, walked over to the windows. “Hannah, can you radio Dominico’s
security?” Dominico stood near the railing, his eyes on the park below him. Nothing seemed out of the ordinary, but Nash couldn’t
shake the feeling that Annie was out there somewhere and the clock was ticking.

“Got them,” Hannah’s voice crackled over the headset. “They should be pulling him out now.”

Moving back to the monitor, Nash watched as the guards appeared and, after a brief argument, hauled Dominico back into the
relative safety of his apartment. “Well, that takes care of that.”

Blowing out a breath, he studied the various camera shots for a moment and then the corresponding points in the buildings
across the way. None of the angles seemed right to him, somehow. Too much of a risk, both for access and for making an escape.
This was a high-rent neighborhood, which meant building security was at a maximum.

He picked up the aerial shot again, studying the photo, trying again to figure out what it was that bugged him about it. The
park consisted of an L-shaped strip of land situated at the bottom of a cliff. On top of the cliff sat the grounds of the
building he was in now, a sixteen-foot stone wall insuring residents’ privacy and effectively keeping intruders out. Dominico’s
building also had grounds, but they were protected by fencing and a sheer rock face cutting down to the highway itself.

He frowned and then looked up at the monitor showing the park. The walkway over the highway was directly below the camera,
only a part of it visible. He typed coordinates into the connected laptop and the camera’s angle shifted, the entire walkway
now visible. The west side, nearest the buildings, sat well below street level, but as it moved toward the river, the path
rose almost imperceptibly until, near the end, it was actually almost level with Dominico’s balcony.

The jogger he’d noticed earlier was still there. Still stretching, but farther down, closer to the river. He maneuvered the
computer, moving the camera lens closer. The woman’s face was obscured by a Yankees cap, but as she twisted, a strand of hair
caught the light, gleaming russet in the sun.

“Shit,” Nash said, a sense of urgency knotting his gut, as he jumped from his seat, already heading for the door. “She’s been
out there all along. On the walkway. Right under our fucking noses.”

He took the stairs two at a time, Tyler hot on his heels barking orders to Andre on the roof and to Dominico’s security guards.

“Tell them not to do anything to give their positions away. She’ll bolt if she thinks we’re onto her. And no shooting. I want
to take her alive.” For any number of reasons, none of which he was about to analyze now.

They swung into the hallway on the bottom floor heading for the back way out and the garden. A small gate in the side wall
gave access to what had once been a stairway, removed years ago for safety. The resulting overgrowth hid Nash and Tyler from
view as they stepped out onto the rock ledge that surrounded the wall. The walkway was only a few feet away.

“Wait here,” he said, signaling Tyler to stay put. “Keep me covered, and if I get into trouble, take her out.”

Tyler nodded, gun already in hand.

Without giving himself time for further thought, Nash leaped across the gap, landing silently on the cement walkway, staying
out of view behind the overgrowth of rhododendrons.

Annie had shifted again, moving closer to him. He could see the outline of her face under the cap, her profile as familiar
to him as his own. She was still feigning stretching, her attention locked on the building across from her.

Thanks to the incline and a bend in the walkway, his approach would be almost invisible. Sucking in a breath, he drew his
gun and moved forward, closing the distance between them. Annie’s attention was still on Dominico’s apartment, and as the
man appeared in the window, she shifted, straightening her arm as she lined up the shot, but Nash was faster, leveling his
gun at the back of her head.

“Give it up, Annie,” he said, his voice cracking on her name. “Please. Don’t make me shoot you.”

G
ive us some time alone,” Nash said, his jaw tightening with the request.

“Are you sure that’s a good idea?” the blonde asked, her green eyes speculative as she looked from Annie to Nash.

“Tyler, just do it.” There was a note of command in Nash’s voice that Annie remembered well.

“Fine.” Tyler shrugged. “I need to call Avery, anyway. I’ll do it from the parlor.” She walked toward the door, stopping first
to lay a hand on Nash’s shoulder, the gesture comforting and intimate.

Annie fought against a rush of emotion, forcing herself to focus. Nash was nothing to her anymore. An obstacle to finding
Adam. The thought of her baby out there somewhere with God knew who was beyond frightening. She clenched her teeth, trying
to maintain control. There had to be a way out. She just needed to find it.

She had no idea where exactly they were. Lower Manhattan somewhere. A brownstone from the looks of it. Probably a safe house
of some kind. From here, they’d no doubt take her to a secured facility. Somewhere where she’d have little chance of escaping.
Which meant that she had to capitalize on the moment. Find a way out now before reinforcements arrived.

Rivon had been clear. No outside help.

She wasn’t carrying the phone, and she’d been careful to cover her tracks. So there was a chance that they didn’t know about
her capture, but that didn’t rule out the possibility of being followed. And if Rivon knew—then Adam could already be dead.

Her heart pounded in her chest, tears welling, and she struggled to calm herself. There was nothing to be gained by letting
her fear take control. She’d been in worse situations and managed to escape. She could do this.

Releasing a long breath, she turned to face Nash. “So where are we?” she asked, her frown more of a prop than anything else.
A mask to hide her tumultuous feelings. The longer she was here, the more risk to Adam. She had to find a way out.

“A safe house,” Nash said, his tone curt, his attention on a sheaf of papers in his hand. He’d hardly made eye contact since
he’d trapped her on the bridge, leaving most of the physical contact to the blonde. Which was just as well. She wasn’t sure
she could handle him touching her. Not after all this time.

“And the blonde?” she asked, playing for time as she tried to case the room. “Is she your partner?”

“Tyler’s part of A-Tac. Expert in munitions,” Nash said, his dark eyes giving away nothing. “And she’s a friend.”

“I see.” She nodded, her gaze darting around the room, looking for some means of escape. “And this Avery?”

“He’s my boss. Heads up the team. He’ll be escorting you to Langley. Along with Tom Walker.”

“Tom?” she frowned, fighting off another rush of memory. Tom had been her friend once. An ally when her life had turned to
shit. He’d helped her escape. Helped her go underground. He was the only one who had known the whole truth. But he’d moved
on to bigger and brighter things, cutting her off in the process. Just like everyone in her life—he’d walked away.

But now apparently he was back, and more of a threat than she wanted to acknowledge.

“He’s Homeland Security,” she said, scrambling to figure Tom’s angle in all of this. Tom always had an angle. “Some big muckety-muck,
right?”

“Nice to know you keep up.”

“I don’t. Not really.” She shook her head. “But it was headline news. Kind of hard to miss. So if this is a CIA matter, why
Homeland Security?”

“Treason tends to bring out the big guns, Annie. Homeland Security has priority. But since you were ex-CIA,” he said, emphasis
on
ex,
“we drew the short straw when it came to running you to ground.”

“But you and Tom…” she trailed off, knowing there really weren’t words.

“Had the dubious honor of knowing you,” he finished for her, the words not meant as a compliment. “That’s why we were called
in.”

“I see.”

Silence stretched between them, a ticking clock on the mantel sounding abnormally loud. She tried to focus on the room. Find
access for escape. But concentration seemed out of the question. Maybe she’d been away from the game too long. Or maybe it
was her proximity to Nash. Either way she was having difficulty staying on task.

Adam,
her mind whispered.
Nothing matters but Adam.

She nodded, pushing away everything else. Nothing was more important than her son. It was as simple as that. Once they’d transferred
her to Langley, she’d be out of the game for good. Of no use to Adam. And even if she told them the truth, it wouldn’t change
the fact that she’d been caught gunning for Dominico. Tom was a stickler for the rules, and Nash’s boss was an unknown quantity.
They’d ship her off to Washington. And once Rivon figured it out—she struggled to breathe as the image of her son filled her
brain. He was so little.

She had to find a way out.

“So,” she said, pushing to her feet, testing her boundaries, “until this Avery arrives, I’m a prisoner here?”

After arriving at the brownstone, they’d made no further effort to restrain her. Nash had said it was a safe house. Which
meant one of two things. Either an off-the-books place out of sight of prying eyes. Or a stronghold meant to keep people out—or
in. She was betting on the latter. But at least from what she could see, it felt more like the former. A safe place agents
could go to recuperate. Find center again.

There had been a place in Vienna. An escape she and Nash had used…

But those days were gone.

“I’m not giving you a chance to get out of here, if that’s what you’re thinking,” he said.

“But I’m free to stretch my legs?”

He watched as she moved toward the window but made no effort to stop her. The street below looked like any other Manhattan
street. Garbage bags littering the sidewalk, spindly trees stretching upward trying to find their way out of the grime-laden
air. Just for a moment she closed her eyes, thinking of home—of Colorado.

But Dominico wasn’t in Creede. And neither was Adam.

She turned to face Nash, leaning back against the sill, feeling surreptitiously with her fingers to see if the window could
be opened.

“It’s no use,” he said, circling closer. “The windows all have motion sensors.”

“Nobody in. Nobody out.” She moved away from the window, accepting the futility of trying to use it as a mode of escape. But
that didn’t mean she’d given up. Not by a long shot.

“You know the drill.” He shrugged, then lifted his eyes, his gaze colliding with hers, his anger an almost tangible thing.
“What the hell were you doing out there, Annie?”

Electricity arced between them as their eyes dueled. Once upon a time, she’d believed she’d known this man better than she’d
known herself, but that was ancient history. The truth was she didn’t know him at all. Which meant she couldn’t afford to
drop her guard. It would be too easy to fall into old patterns. To trust a man that she knew damn well couldn’t be trusted,
at least not when it came to the things that really mattered. She pulled in a cleansing breath, steeling herself. “I was doing
what I had to do.”

“Killing the ambassador.” His tone was dismissive, his disdain apparent.

“Sometimes we have to choose the lesser of two evils.”

“That’s not an answer.”

“It’s all I’ve got.” She shrugged, her repertoire seemingly reduced to the simplest of gestures.