Heavy Artillery Husband (10 page)

“It was a pleasure seeing you again,” Frank said, his chair scraping obnoxiously against the floor. “I look forward to the next time.”

Only a deaf woman would've missed the threat in those words.

“Can't wait,” Paul muttered before calling for the guard.

Though Paul had been her ally through the years, she knew she'd never speak to him directly again. It startled her how what appeared to be the smallest decisions could have such lasting, enormous impact. Frank had withdrawn from her to attend to an honorable task, willing to endure erroneous accusations for the betterment of his country. Paul had been attentive, heedless of her feelings while he deceived her day in and day out.

Sophia wasn't sure Victoria had been right about her judgment after all.

When the last heavy door rolled back and the sunshine blasted them, Frank swore. “We're stranded.”

Startled, she searched the parking area as if she could will the cab to reappear. Thank goodness they'd left their belongings in a locker at the airport. “His dispatcher must have called him back.”

“Not likely,” Frank mused, donning his sunglasses. “This stinks of trouble.”

She pulled out her phone and called the cab company. No answer. “Considering what we paid the driver to stay, it must have cost them a pretty sum to get him to leave.”

“Not much comfort in that.” He planted his hands on his hips, his mouth set in a stern line.

His eyes hidden, she couldn't see his gaze roaming over the area, but she knew he was searching for the inevitable ambush.

“Get back inside,” he said, pushing her behind him. “I've got a bad feeling.”

“What?” How was she supposed to manage that? It wasn't a restaurant or a salon—it was a federal prison. “I'm not going anywhere without you.”

“By now Paul's telling them who I really am. You need to distance yourself.”

She heard the unspoken
again
. “No.” Had he forgotten how stubborn she was? “Paul will keep his mouth shut.”

He pushed up his sunglasses, and his eyes were blazing. “What do you have on him?”

She gave him her sweetest smile. “About seventeen million dollars.”

Either Frank didn't believe that would be enough incentive or he didn't care. “We've been set up, Sophie,” he said, covering his eyes again. “Inside is your best chance.”

Behind her own sunglasses, she studied the front gate, the towers and the cleared terrain outside the tall fences topped with barbed wire. She and Frank wouldn't be able to outrun an ambush. “A rock and a hard place,” she murmured. They needed a car.

“Go on. They'll let you in.”

She ignored him. Arguing wouldn't solve their dilemma. “The private ride apps won't do us any more good than the cab at this point. Too rural.”

“There's no cover.” His voice was little more than a growl as he started to walk.

Sophia followed. She had an overhead image of the area on her phone. “There's a farm three miles down the road,” she said. “If we can get there, we can—”

“They'll pick us off long before either of us can get there,” he said. He stopped pacing in front of the warden's vehicle parked at the front of the lot and urged her to join him. “Let's see how determined they are.”

The grit in his voice gave her a boost of confidence. “What do you mean?”

“I'm waiting right here.” He sat down on the curb, his hands resting on one knee, his other leg stretched out long. “They'll get impatient and make a move or we'll find another ride out of here.”

“It is a nice day to sit outside,” she said, playing along. At least he wasn't implying they steal a car from in front of a prison. “All we're missing is a picnic.”

He tilted his head up to her, his lips curved in a genuine smile. If she didn't know better, she'd say he looked happy.

“I've missed that,” he said.

“What?”

“Your wit,” he replied. “Your unflappable nature.”

“Both are essential survival skills in our worlds.”

“I agree.” He scanned the parking lot once more.

“You're using the reflection in the windshields to check behind us, aren't you?”

“Surprising what skills you pick up when you're on the run.”

She sat down beside him and tried to call the cab company again. “How can they just not answer?”

Frank shrugged. “Halloran plays a ruthless game.”

“And you?”

“I've learned to play that way when there's no other choice.”

She left that comment alone, sending a quick text to Leo Solutions. Frankie or Aidan would figure it out if something happened to her. She had yet to explain anything other than that she was running down leads for an old friend. Frankie would flip out, temper blazing, if she discovered her dad was alive and avoiding her.

“What are you thinking?” she asked after a few more minutes of silence.

“Time is on our side. Coming directly at us would cause them more problems than it solves. Walking to the farmhouse is iffy, gives the advantage back to them. Between the two of us I'm sure we can convince one of the deliverymen to give us a lift out of here.”

“Putting that driver in jeopardy.”

“Face it, Sophia—anyone near us right now is in jeopardy. That doesn't make us the bad guys.”

True. She just didn't want to see anyone else get hurt.

“Do you believe Sterling?”

“Yes.” She pulled up the regional airport, checking departures. “Do you think we'll get lucky and pin down Farrell in Tucson?”

“Until Halloran shows his lousy face, it's our best option.” Frank stood up at the sound of an approaching engine. “Well, well,” he said. “Look who has a conscience.”

Sophia noticed the number on the top of the yellow taxicab pulling into the lot. “It's the same car.” She squinted but couldn't identify the driver through the glare on the windshield. “Is it the same driver?”

“Can't tell yet. Stay alert,” he warned, walking out from between parked cars. “Could be a setup.”

The cab came to a stop and the driver, the same man who'd brought them to the prison, stepped out. “I went to fill up the tank. Hope you haven't been waiting long.”

“Thought you might've changed your mind about the fare,” Frank said, opening the closest rear door for Sophia.

“No, sir. My apologies for any confusion.”

“Back to the airport,” Frank responded. He laced his fingers with hers, their joined hands resting on his thigh, his smile a hard counterpoint to the gentle touch.

She understood the unspoken message that he now considered the cabdriver an enemy until proved an ally. Hopefully he could still read her well enough to know she agreed.

They'd barely made the main road when she heard the growl of a burly engine speeding up behind them. Frank twisted in the seat, his eyebrows dropping into a ferocious scowl at the car closing in on the rear bumper of the cab.

“Get down,” Frank said, urging her to the floorboards behind the driver's seat. “I guess they're convinced you could make Paul talk.”

“They aren't wrong,” she pointed out.

Frank leaned across the back of the front seat. “Any weapons?” he asked.

“No, sir.”

Frank swore and her stomach clutched. They'd left Frank's weapons behind in the luggage. Assuming Halloran's men were armed and their intent was to stop her and Frank permanently, they were sitting ducks.

The car behind them slammed into the back of the cab. The impact knocked the cab forward with a hard jerk and tossed Sophia into the hard frame of the driver's seat.

“Floor it,” Frank ordered.

When the driver obeyed, Sophia put him in the ally column and said a prayer all three of them would survive. The cab took another hit, this time closer to the right rear quarter panel. They were being pushed into the oncoming traffic lane and the driver eased off the gas.

“I'll pull over,” the driver said.

“Do that and we're all dead,” Frank snapped. “These people don't leave witnesses.”

“Do you?” the driver asked.

Sophia lurched upright from her sheltered position. “Yes! Get us back to the airport in one piece and I'll make sure you can buy a new cab.”

“You can do that?”

Under her feet she felt the cab accelerating again. “Yes!” she answered. “I can make sure you have money to put your kids through college or whatever you need.”

The driver's eyes lit up and the heavy cab sped up a little more. “You are good people. College money is too much, but you are good people.”

Sophia sent another text to her assistant, giving her instructions to track down the driver's family, just in case something happened. She intended to keep her promise.

Frank swore. “What are you doing?”

She couldn't answer as the other car sideswiped them, attempting to knock them off the road.

“Gun!” Frank pushed her back to the floorboards. “Brakes,” he yelled at the driver.

Glass from the window showered down on her and the cab's tires squealed against the pavement. The car rocked on its chassis at the sudden stop. She heard Frank scramble into the front seat.

“Move over!” Frank commanded the driver.

“What are you doing?” she asked, daring to sit up.

“He overshot us.” Frank put the car in Drive and muscled the heavy car into a U-turn. He wasn't escaping, he was going on the offensive.

She was thrown back as Frank took control of the cab and floored it. Wind whistled through the broken window and she held her breath as he charged toward the attacking car.

She knew this wouldn't be the end of it. If they made it to the airport, if they survived the next leg in this convoluted journey, Halloran would just keep coming. They had to force his hand and dismantle Hellfire completely.

She pitched discretion out the window and sent Aidan a request to put a plainclothes bodyguard on the cabbie and his family until further notice. Frank wouldn't be happy she'd directly involved the company, but she'd soothe his ruffled feathers later. If they survived.

The engine labored and she and the driver were tossed around like rag dolls as Frank plowed into the path of the attacking car. It was a dreadful game of chicken and she knew Frank wouldn't be the first to blink. Bullets skittered off the hood and windshield, but the attacking driver veered at the last second.

Anticipating the move, Frank pulled hard on the wheel, managing to clip the front fender and send the other car spinning away. Frank stomped on the brakes, executed a three-point turn in record time and accelerated into the attacking car again.

Startled, she screamed, expecting an air bag to erupt from the steering wheel, belatedly remembering the cab was too old for those safety advancements.

As Frank backed away from the wrecked car and sped down the road toward the airport, she stared at the wreckage behind them until they rounded a curve.

The adrenaline spike plagued her. Her body couldn't be sure if she should be relieved or furious. Although she was grateful Frank's quick thinking and actions had saved them all, he'd put himself at risk in the process. He could've been killed.

It was a stupid thing to focus on now that they were safe. But safe was only temporary. Halloran was trailing them too easily and the greedy bastard held every advantage. She wouldn't let him win, wouldn't let him rob her daughter of a father all over again.

A renewed sense of purpose washed over Sophia, dulling the anger. She would do whatever it took to defeat Hellfire and Halloran. Frankie needed her father, and Sophia was determined to make that reunion happen.

Chapter Eight

Frank's concern grew exponentially with every hour. Sophia wasn't talking to him and he couldn't get a read on what was going on in that brilliant head of hers. She'd been friendly with the cabdriver, even sending him on his way with some cash and a business card, but she continued to give Frank the cold shoulder. She hadn't let him take her hand, hadn't allowed him the briefest moment to hold her close and assure himself she was in one piece.

He'd pulled their belongings from the locker while she'd scrambled for transportation. The fastest way out of the area was a short drive to Columbus, Ohio, so they retrieved the rental car and hit the road. While he kept an eye out for any pursuit, Sophia took care of the details with a charter flight service that expedited air travel for Leo Solutions. Despite his reservations, she was proving her point time and again that they needed what her company could offer.

“I've got a plane scheduled to get us from Columbus to Arizona,” she said, breathing a sigh of relief.

“By now Halloran has people moving to intercept us no matter what we do.”

“So we brave it out and keep pressing. It's worked so far.”

He wasn't willing to trust in that kind of luck anymore today. “You ordered protection for the cabbie and his family, didn't you?”

Her chin came up and he stifled a smile at her marvelous defiant streak. “I did. He took care of us and we'll take care of him.”

“I'm not disagreeing.”

She stared straight ahead. “You don't have to worry that Frankie knows anything. I'm keeping your secret. No one at the company has any idea what I'm really up to.”

He studied her. “You mean it.”

“Of course I do.”

“You're inviting a Hellfire attack.”

That got a rise out of her. “That's inevitable. You know as well as I do we need to draw them out and distract them.”

“What's really bugging you?” he asked after a few more minutes of silence.

She said his name, then stopped short, her teeth sinking into her full lower lip.

He wanted to pull over and soothe that small bite with a kiss. The need to taste her, breathe her in, was overwhelming. He wanted to run away with her, so far and so fast not even Halloran could find them.

Running away wouldn't fix anything. He'd still be officially dead, his wife would still be miserable and Frankie would be at Halloran's mercy.

“Turn off your phone.”

“I've told you they can't track it.”

“Do it anyway,” he pleaded.

She powered it off and dropped it into her purse. “Why?”

“I want your full attention.” Now that he had it, he forced the words out. “I'm sorry I scared you.”

She snorted. “At the prison? I wasn't scared.”

He spared her a long glance. “I was,” he admitted.

“Okay, in the moment, yes, I was scared.” She folded her arms over her chest. “Now I'm just angry. With you,” she added as if he might miss the point.

“Want to give me a little more than that?” They had an hour left, plus the flight to Arizona. Better to get back on an even footing before Halloran's men caught up with them again.

“You took an impossible risk. You have to stop
doing
that.”

He didn't know how else to protect her. “But—”

“We were a team once.” She covered her face with her hands and let out a weary groan. Her hands in her lap again, she continued, her words aimed at the roof of the car. “It's as if you've forgotten I can hold my own. You aren't working alone. When Halloran's in custody—and he will be soon, by God—if you don't want to be a team anymore, that's okay with me.”

His heart stuttered in his chest. Life without her had been unbearable, and not solely as a result of the pressures of working undercover.

“Frank, you're a father,” she continued. “Grown or not, your daughter needs you. Stop behaving as if you're expendable.”

This time he didn't interrupt the silence as it grew and swelled and filled the car to bursting.

Tucson, 6:45 p.m.

I
T
WAS
NEARLY
sunset when they stopped for the night at a roadside motel south of Tucson. Though they'd been able to clean up, change clothes and rest up on the private plane, they were both exhausted. Offices everywhere were closed, putting any direct search for Farrell on hold until morning.

After parking the rented SUV by the stairs, he peered through the windshield at their room. “Maybe I should sit out here and keep watch.” It was agony spending so much time with her and not being able to connect on that intimate, passionate level they'd shared for so many years.

“And let them divide and conquer?” She shook her head, her glossy hair brushing her shoulders. “No way.”

They towed the luggage up the stairs and settled into what was becoming a vexing routine. She set to work with her laptop and he brooded over his notes, adding in the new discoveries, looking for any weak spot or leverage.

His gaze and thoughts were drawn to her as unerringly as moths to flame. When he'd proposed, they had been madly in love, and with each year together it surprised him how they could grow apart and together and find themselves deeper in love.

Until he'd single-handedly wrecked everything, trashing her trust and faith in him. Somehow he had to make it right. Eliminating Hellfire would only be half the battle. He needed to make things right with his family, as well.

He had opened his mouth to unload everything building up inside him when she stood, her hands wrapped around her middle. “Are you okay?” he asked.

She closed the laptop, drumming her fingers on the lid. “I need a coffee or a soda or something.”

He checked the change in his pockets. “I'll get it.” Any excuse for a break from the cramped room and the feminine scent he remembered too well.

* * *

S
OPHIA
WATCHED
HIM
GO
, fighting the sense that she was being unreasonable with him. Frank had buried himself in this mess for the right reasons. He wasn't her real enemy. No, that was Halloran and Farrell and Lowry and Engle and the rest of the convoluted Hellfire network.

It frustrated her how connected Halloran was, how close they were at every turn. Thinking of the cab and the airport and everything else just kept adding up to one conclusion. Frank would obviously step in front of any stray bullet—or the equivalent—to save her.

While it was honorable and part of his nature, she couldn't abide any result that kept him from reuniting with Frankie. He seemed determined to prevent her from protecting him. They'd never worked that way. From the first moment they met, she'd appreciated the way he accepted her strengths and empowered her. She scolded herself again, rubbing another chill from her arms.

He'd let her talk with Eddie alone. He'd fought off one of Halloran's spies without her. They were finally making progress together. Being frustrated with the circumstances was no reason to make their task of dismantling Hellfire more difficult through a lack of communication.

It was past time to extend an olive branch. She'd always treasured the way they talked through everything. It hadn't escaped her notice that Frank avoided any mention of a future. Not that she could blame him. He'd been through so much with the nightmare of being abandoned by CID and the demands of chasing down Halloran.

She thought of the terrace on this level overlooking the pool. They'd passed it on the way to their room. It might be nice to enjoy the night air as they'd often done when Frankie was younger and chat about something other than their problems.

Grabbing a room key and slipping into her flats, she headed for the vending machines, expecting to bump into Frank returning to the room. Immediately she knew something was wrong. Everything was too quiet. She glanced over the rail, breathing a sigh of relief that the rental car was still parked in the designated space below. At least he hadn't left her.

Though the dry evening air was cool against her skin, the chill she felt had nothing to do with weather. The vending machines were on the other side of the building, and even in this aging establishment it couldn't possibly have taken so long for him to find one stocked with a soda.

Just ahead, the bright light from the vending area spilled out over the concrete walkway. A large, lumpy shadow blotted out the light for a moment, then it retreated. Sophia caught the squeak of a rubber-soled shoe, a thud and a low grunt. She froze in place, two doors down from the vending machines that connected the parking lot side with the pool and courtyard side of the motel. Holding her breath, she caught the unmistakable swish and snap of a switchblade knife.

“Thelma?” she called out at the top of her lungs. “Which room are we in?” With any luck, no one by that name would be in a nearby room. In the answering silence, she hurried around the corner and into the vending area and skidded to a stop.

“One word and he's done.” A younger man with sandy-brown hair and cold eyes held a knife to Frank's throat.

Sophia clapped a hand over her mouth, stifling the scream and the pleas that wanted to pour forth. She could hardly believe her eyes. Not only had they been found, but Halloran's oldest son had overpowered her husband with a knife. She shot Frank a bewildered look.

He gave her a look that urged her to play it cool.

“You're coming with me,” the young man said. “Both of you.”

Frank's gaze told a different story. He was playing along until a better opportunity to escape arose.

No point wasting time. “Mike Halloran,” she said in her best maternal command, planting her hands on her hips as she stared down the son of Hellfire's leader. “What do you think you're doing?”

“Mrs. Leone.” He shuffled his feet much as he'd done as a lanky preteen caught in a silly prank. “Yeah. Sorry. It's not as bad as it looks. This is just business.”

Was it her imagination or had he eased the knife back? “What kind of business requires you to attack an old family friend?”

“Dad wants to talk, that's all. General Leone hasn't been cooperating.”

“Whether or not that's true, your mother would be appalled by this behavior. How is she?”

“Great.” Mike relaxed further, leaving more than an inch between that gleaming blade and the skin of Frank's throat. “She spends most of her time in Saint Croix now.”

Hopefully oblivious of her husband's treachery. “That's nice. She always loved the coast.” Sophia took another step forward. “You realize no one talks business or anything else with a knife at their throat. Put it down.”

Mike seemed to be debating how to carry out his orders. “Will you come along quietly?”

Of course not.
“Certainly,” she said. “Where are you taking us?”

“Back to my place until Dad can get here. He just wants to clear up this misunderstanding.”

She bit back the sarcastic retort, refusing to look directly at Frank again as she nodded at Halloran's son.

“It coulda been just the general,” Mike said. “But now that you've seen me...”

“I understand.” She smiled. “We'll both come along. Put the knife away.”

When Mike retracted the knife, Frank landed an elbow strike to his midriff, knocking the air from his lungs. The knife clattered to the tile and skittered toward Sophia. She scooped it up and pushed it deep into the back pocket of her jeans.

“Call the police!” Frank barked the order as he pushed Mike facedown.

“My phone's in the room.” She looked around for anything they could use to tie up the younger man. “What do you want to do?”

Mike squirmed and Frank dropped to one knee, putting all his weight between the younger man's shoulder blades. “I say let his dad deal with him.”

“Is that wise?”

“No,” Mike said on a creaky exhale. “No. Let me go and I won't say anything. I'll tell him I couldn't find you.”

Frank looked at her. “Do you believe him?”

“Not a bit,” she replied. What she could see of Mike's face twisted and she shouted a warning half a second too late.

Frank, tossed off balance, fell backward and Mike, showing an aptitude for thug work, came at her.

“Get out of here!” Frank said, diving for Mike's legs.

The younger man tripped, regaining his balance with an agility she envied. Being older, and female, she had different options and skills to call upon, not the least of which was experience.

After Frank's trial and Frankie's recovery, she'd been brushing up on her self-defense skills. As a bonus, the increased activity had put her in prime shape for Frankie's wedding day. Now she was all the more thankful Aidan had joined Leo Solutions. Her future son-in-law was proving to be an excellent coach, willing to create fitness programs for anyone at the company, no matter their level or job description.

She let Mike close in, feinting and spinning out of his reach. Blocking his attack, she put a higher value on patience than her opponent did. She systematically moved the fight closer to the railing and the stairwell, places where her smaller size gave her a better advantage.

Mike countered with fast moves meant to confuse and intimidate. She managed to avoid the worst of it, but an evasive move left her with her back open to an attack.

She saw Frank's eyes go wide, his face a mask of panic. He had no way to help her. With Frank calling her name, aiming threats at Mike, she dropped to her knees and the young man went hurtling over the railing into the night.

A splash sounded as he hit the pool. Voices rose, cries of alarm and calls for help.

She peeked over the side, hoping to see Mike swimming to the edge, only to have Frank drag her back. “Phone cameras,” he explained. “We have to go.”