Fatal Honor: Shadow Force International (25 page)

A man emerged from the opposite wall near Moose. Seeing Charlotte, he yelled and swept Charlotte up in his arms. Once again, Miles’ hand went to his weapon, but Moose stepped forward as if to shield them.

“Timothy! Put me down,” Charlotte said, but she was laughing as the man swung her in a circle before depositing her on her feet.

He was a smaller version of Moose. Just as tall, but lanky, with the same beard, long hair, and tattoo. The man looked Miles over from head to toe with beady eyes. “This is him? The man you rescued?”

At least Lanky spoke decent English, even if his accent was thick.

“Miles Duncan.” Miles kept his hand loose and ready to reach for his gun. “And you are?”

Charlotte adjusted her jacket. “This is Renalda’s son, Timothy. My second cousin.”

Timothy picked up Charlotte’s backpack and cocked his head toward the entrance he’d emerged from. “Renalda said you would honor your family and come back. We mustn’t keep her waiting.”

As Timothy disappeared into the tunnel, Charlotte looked at Miles and smiled. “I’ll try to keep the family reunion short, but they
are
Gypsies. Prepare to be fed and take part in some dancing before we get out of here.”

Dancing? Miles hesitated before following her, Moose’s beady eyes watching him every step of the way.

T
HE
P
ARTY
W
AS IN
full swing. Charlotte wiped sweat from the back of her neck, accepted a drink from Timothy. The up-tempo music echoed between the caves and Charlotte laughed as Miles tried to learn a dance step from a group of teen girls.

Renalda, a hundred pounds of jewelry on her frail body, sat next to Charlotte and laughed along with her.

“Your man is very serious,” Renalda said, clapping her hands to the beat. “He has a long face.”

Long face was Renalda’s way of saying someone was somber and un-smiling. “He’s been through a lot.”

Miles glanced over, shooting Charlotte a
help me
look.

She gave him a thumbs-up.

Renalda smiled. “His face brightens when he looks at you.”

Full of good food and enjoying this reprieve from the real world, Charlotte smiled back. Here, she could be herself. She could admit truths she couldn’t outside these cave walls. “I love him.”

“He did right, coming back with you. His aura is strong, bright.”

Was Renalda giving her blessing? Her great-aunt believed she was gifted with the Sight and could predict outcomes, especially with love matches.

Charlotte humored her. “Are we compatible?”

Renalda stopped clapping. “You have difficulties to overcome.”

True enough. Didn’t answer her question, though. “If we succeed with those, do we have a chance?”

“His heart has darkness in it. Be careful, or he will pull you into that.”

Miles had survivor’s guilt and wanted revenge for the death of this men. Charlotte understood both. The darkness that lived inside her seemed a thousand times worse.

Miles had given her the cross earlier. She removed it from a pocket and held it up for Renalda to see. “Can we open the safe now?”

Renalda touched the cross as if it were a long, lost friend. Her rheumy eyes closed for a moment as she held it to her chest. Then she opened her eyes and took Charlotte’s hand. Together, they stood, and Renalda lead her deep into the cave, leaving Miles behind.

Chapter Seventeen

_____________________

______________________________________________________

H
EAVY
C
LOUDS
R
OLLED
over the Transylvanian Alps as the sun dropped behind them. A storm was brewing—a bad one from the look of those clouds—and the hair on the back of Charlotte’s neck stood up from the electrically charged air.

But she couldn’t keep the smile off her face. She had the USB.

During the dancing and feasting, Miles had tugged her away from the festivities for a few minutes. In the shadows of the cave, he’d kissed her mindless and ran his hands under her shirt. They’d stayed that way, making out like a couple of kids for a long time. She’d wrapped her legs around his hips and he’d thumbed her through her pants until she cried out from an orgasm. Luckily, the music was loud and he’d smothered her mouth with his to keep their make-out session against a cave wall a secret.

They’d danced and ate and sang along with the songs even though they didn’t understand the words Renalda taught them.

As she threaded her way down the mountain now, Miles a few steps behind her, she felt an undeniable lightness. Happiness she hadn’t felt since their six weeks alone in the cabin.

From the look of the storm moving in, they might end up stuck in the cabin again.

“We need to get to the truck and get out of here before that storm hits,” Miles called to her.

“We could end up driving right into it,” Charlotte called back. The wind was picking up, the pine tree limbs above her head lifting and falling on the breeze. The creaking sound they produced was ominous. “I need to see a weather report. Maybe we can connect my portable satellite at the cabin to one of our phones and check the radar.”

She paused as they crested a small ridge and saw the cabin down below, the last of the sun’s rays peeking between the clouds and the mountain range and bathing the cabin in a soft peach glow.

A part of her wanted to stay in the cabin another night. One more night of just the two of them alone.

The practical part of her knew they could end up stranded here again. Storms here could dump multiple feet of snow in a matter of hours. They often came one right after the other with no let up in between.

Would that be so bad?
a tiny voice inside her head asked.

It would
, she mentally answered. She had the USB, but Madeena was still in Nico’s possession. Without Charlotte there to buffer his attacks, Madeena was being subjected to all of his brutality, his sick appetites.

Miles stopped next to her, scanning the area around the cabin. She wondered if he, too, considered spending another night there.

He wasn’t going to like it when she told him the second half of her plan—where she sent him on to hook up with Jaxon and get the USB to authorities while she went back for Madeena.

But no one was going anywhere until she checked on this storm system.

“Area looks clear,” he noted as he started down the incline.

She followed. Once they reached the backside of the cabin, he handed her his backpack. “Go on in, see if you can copy what’s on your USB to my laptop. I’ll work on setting up the satellite.”

Making a copy of the USB contents was a good idea, and since she planned to send Miles back to the plane while she went back for Madeena, he’d have a copy of the video while she hung on to the original. “I’ll make some coffee.”

He nodded, already working on standing up the satellite base.

Charlotte dumped the backpacks on the kitchen counter and filled the tea kettle with water. She lit the wood stove, and while the water heated, set up the mugs with a couple of teaspoons of instant coffee. Then she unloaded a very cold laptop from Miles’ backpack and laid her gun on the counter.

She walked into the living area to set up the laptop and came to a dead stop.

The man sitting in front of the fireplace tapped a gun against his thigh. “Hello, Agent Carstons.”

“CB?” Charlotte laughed out loud, the sound too loud in her ears. “Oh my God. What are you doing here?”

His bald head was covered with a black, knit stocking hat. The rest of his outfit was all black, too. “Looking for you, of course.”

“But how did you know I was here?”

“I followed you. At least for awhile. You’re a slick fish to catch, Carstons. Almost had you in San Diego, then again at the airport. But you evaded me.” He chuckled. “I knew you’d come back here. It was only a matter of time.”

This didn’t make sense. “You…? I’m sorry, did you say you followed me to San Diego?”

He nodded, the cat who’d swallowed the canary.

A scary sense of understanding snaked across her mind. “You sent the men at Van Nuys.”

A wink. “You catch on fast.”

“But why? Why would you turn me into MI6 when you know I have to clear my name.”

He held out a gloved hand. “The USB. Hand it over.”

It was in her pocket. She had no intention of giving it to him.

Her head felt heavy, a new kind of cold seeping into her system. Resentment, disbelief. He’d betrayed her.

Hurt, sharp and brutal, stung inside her chest.

The only question was, in how many ways? “What do you want with the USB?”

“I promised Nicolae he could have it.”

Charlotte kept herself from glancing at the gun in his hand. “You’re in cahoots with Nico?”

Another smug smile.

“You set it up to look like it was me in order to cover your own arse.”

Norris dropped his outstretched hand and smiled. “Surprised you didn’t figure that out before, but you were a little busy, weren’t you? Fucking the SEAL, being tortured by Nicolae, going on the run from MI6.”

Hysteria rose inside her. She needed to get that gun away from him.
Keep him talking
.

“Why sell out to Nico?” Covertly, she adjusted her grip on the laptop. Thoughts settling once more, she figured she might have to use it as a shield or whip it at his head to create a diversion. “You’re a patriot through and through. You hate scum like Nicolae Bourean.”

“He’s the key to tracking down the man I’ve been chasing for years. The one that got away. The one whose capture will put me in the history books.”

“What are you talking about?”

“The terrorist you said you have on the video. He’s mine.”

Madeena’s father. “Why do you want him?”

“I didn’t get bin Laden. He’s second on my bucket list.”

He was nuts. If she kept him talking along enough, Miles would come in. Two against one, they could take him. “I’ll help you take him down.”

He laughed as if this were the best joke he’d heard in forever. “You’re helping all right, but not like that.” He raised his gun. “Give me the USB.”

Where was Miles? “I’m sorry, I can’t do that.”

“The hell you can’t.”

Time to lie. “I don’t have it.”

She could see in his eyes that he didn’t believe her, but he played along for a moment. “And why is that? Your boyfriend has it?”

She could tell him they’d lost the key. That the Gypsies wouldn’t allow her to get to the safe. That someone had stolen the USB. Anything to throw him off.

But even if he did believe her, she couldn’t put her relations in jeopardy or risk him seeing the necklace around Miles’ neck. Renalda had given it back to him as a keepsake. CB would shoot first, ask questions later. “I lost it in the woods.”

“Bullshit. Hand it over Carstons or I’ll kill your boyfriend.”

At that moment, the kitchen door flew open, banging against the wall. Charlotte turned, ready to yell a warning at Miles, when she saw a man crowd through the opening and drop Miles to the floor.

Eyes closed, body limp, he lay unmoving. He was bleeding from a cut over his temple. A lump was forming around it.

“Oh, my God.” Charlotte ran to his side, setting the laptop on the floor as she knelt next to him. Cold air rushed in around them from the open door.

Miles was unconscious. She touched his neck, felt a pulse, saw the slow rise of his chest. “What the hell did you do to him?” she said to the man blocking doorway.

And then she looked up and her heart stopped beating for a second.

He was older than in her memories, but still wore the same mustache that curled at the ends. His dark hair was shot through with gray now, his skin leathery and wrinkled.

But his eyes. She saw the same dead look in them that she’d seen when he’d fixed the plumbing and lighting in her mother’s shop…

Charlotte couldn’t breathe, couldn’t think.

“You remember Orlo,” CB said.

“You.” She jumped to her feet, hands curling into fists. “You killed my mother.”

“Your mother was a beautiful creature.” CB strolled over to the counter, his gun trained on her as he snagged hers and stuffed it in his coat. “It was a shame she had to be disposed of.”

Wait
. Charlotte whirled to face him. “You knew my mother?”

“She was an asset I cultivated back when I was with the CIA. Her gaggle of Gypsy women gathered a lot of information for me working as maids and cleaning ladies for the embassies on the Row. They generously shared it with your mother during their weekly visits to her shop. She, in turn, passed on certain tidbits to me.”

There was no way her mother had been a CIA asset. He had to be making this up.

But his eyes told her he wasn’t lying. The gun he had trained on her was no joke.

Her fingernails bit into the palms of her hands as she clenched them tighter. “I trusted you. You were like a father to me.”