INTO DANGER (Secret Assassins (S.A.S.S.) Book 1) (37 page)

“Pretty please, sweet buns.” Cam hooted as he went off.

Steve dialed, and Tess picked up on the first ring. “Are you injured badly?” she asked, without preliminaries.

“No. Thanks for helping me out.”

“I need you out of there. You have forty-eight hours before that chief of yours gets a warrant out for you. He said that’s the longest he could hold off for your sake.”

Steve choked back an incredulous laugh. “For my sake?” That was a little too difficult to believe, especially after their conversation. “How did you arrange this, T?”

“Darling, I do my job and you do yours, hmm?” Amusement filled Tess’s voice. “He didn’t sound too happy but it’s always easy to pull the strings of someone with a lot of baggage.”

So she’d done some research on Harden, too. Steve wondered how much she knew about everyone. “Do you know what they have on me? Did Cam fill you in?”

“Yes. Something about cash in the car.”

“That, and they searched my apartment and found an account book with deposited money. It’s meant to make me look like someone bought me off to work with the mole.”

“Is it the same overseas account we were talking about earlier?”

“I’d assume so. I have no idea, T., since I wasn’t there when they searched it.”

“I’ll look into it. It’s probably an electronic transfer. Tracing it should be easy.” She paused, then added, “Aren’t you at all tempted to use any of those funds to pay off your sister’s medical bills, Stash? It’d take a load off you.”

“Dirty money,” Steve countered, “is dirty money. It’ll come back to bite my ass.”

Tess laughed. “Darling, you have to trust me. If there are electronic money transfers involved, everything can be redirected, manipulated as I please. You haven’t asked much about your new pay, have you? Contract pay doesn’t look anything like your standard paycheck.”

Steve frowned. “What do you know about it? In fact, what else do you know about me?”

He could see her shrugging, that slight smile on her face, as she answered, “More than you want, and less than you think. All this will be explained to you during your training sessions. Now, we’re losing time. There’s a slight problem. I’m in New York and can’t join you quickly enough. I do know that whoever took Marlena has gone through her purse and used her hotel key. My men told me there was one visitor, and I assume he wasn’t there for a social visit since he had the key.”

Marlena’s purse. Oh God. If anything had happened to her—“Stash!” T’s voice was sharp this time. “I need you to stay focused!”

“Can you read minds too?” Steve asked, and determinedly pushed away the dark thoughts. He mustn’t think like that or he wouldn’t be able to function.

“Let’s just say I have my talents. Now listen. Marlena will try to contact me. They have her purse, so if she could access her makeup she would let me know her location.”

“Her makeup?”

“There is a laser beacon in her lipstick, virtually undetectable unless activated. And even then one must use the right equipment. It’s similar to the signal that military pilots use if they eject from their planes.”

“Okay.” For the first time there was a glimmer of hope as to where to begin his search.

“I’ll contact you the moment I get the information. Meanwhile you have to get someone to help you out. Wherever she is, she’ll be well guarded and you might need backup.”

“Don’t worry about me,” Steve assured her.

“I want full updates of what your plans are, no going off on your own.”

“No, ma’am.”

“And Mr. Candeloro goes with you.”

“What?”

“He’s your insurance. Your commander said he couldn’t trust you to just run off and needed more than your word. I told him to have Cameron Candeloro by your side, so he can make sure you return within forty-eight hours.”

“Fine.” Steve turned to see Cam coming with clothes in his arms. “Thanks for getting me out. I’ll get Lena, I promise.”

“I never doubted that, Steve. Keep that beeper close at hand.”

“Yeah.” Steve rang off and caught the clothes Cam tossed into his arms. “So I heard you’re my baby-sitter.”

Cam shrugged. “It was that or you stay in custody. I know you want out.”

Steve grinned. “You realize you’re going to have to write a report?”

Cam’s lip curled up derisively. “Yeah, now you owe me two!”

Pulling on his pants, Steve looked up. “Hey, two tickets to Turandot, two favors.”

“You got the tickets?”

“Not yet. But if we get Marlena back, it’s a sure bet.” In one piece, please, Steve prayed silently. Safe and alive. Please.

Cam sobered up and nodded. “We’ll find her, buddy. I’ll gladly do the report if we find her as soon as possible.”

Steve nodded, tucking in his shirt. He didn’t want to think of the possibility of not finding Marlena in time. He inhaled and released a cleansing breath. “Let’s go.”

––––––––

H
e watched Marlena walk into the cabin with the silent bodyguard behind her. He put down the glass of wine he had been sipping. His wait was over.

Those remarkable blue eyes swept the cabin once, and although it looked as if she didn’t bother examining the place too closely, he knew she’d taken in all the necessary details already. She impressed him with her ability to see through her enemies’ schemes.

Too bad he was now her enemy. He knew she would try to defeat him. He looked forward to breaking her, and winning, although there was a slight twinge of regret. He could have enjoyed her, very easily. Marlena Maxwell was like the fine wine he loved.

“Ah, hungry, Miss Maxwell? Please join us.”

She walked slowly to the seat he indicated, her eyes absorbing his features. He nodded, and one of the bodyguards pulled out the chair for her. Once again he admired her composure as she bestowed a dazzling smile at his companion at the table. A normal person would react with shock. Displeasure. Anger. But not his Marlena. Her voice was low and sultry, sending a soft shiver through him. “Pierre, darling, drugging and kidnapping isn’t exactly your style.”

Pierre du Scheum didn’t smile back. He didn’t blame the businessman. He’d had a tough hour negotiating and didn’t like to be on the disadvantage end of the discussion. It was very interesting to see a proud man beg. Marlena Maxwell had obviously bewitched this man, too.

“It wasn’t my idea,
chérie
,” Pierre said.

“No, it was mine,” he chimed in, getting her attention back to him, where it belonged. “Your being on this nice boat is Pierre’s idea, though. Somehow your comfort matters to him. Some wine? It’s from an excellent vintage year. Chateau Margaux ’94.”

Marlena didn’t demur as he poured the rich red wine into her glass. She hadn’t expected a sumptuous dinner. But then she hadn’t expected Pierre, either. She studied the man treating her with such deceptive politeness. She’d met him before. He was in his late forties, with graying hair. It was a striking face, with strong features. A broad forehead. A hooked nose. Now that she took the time, he looked very familiar. It suddenly dawned on her he looked a bit like William Cunningham, but with more character.

“All he had to do was invite me,” she commented, keeping her voice casual. “You didn’t have to go to such extreme measures.”

“Ah, but then you would have come to me prepared, and with that boy of yours. I like the element of surprise. That is part of our business, isn’t it? To keep the other side guessing? Didn’t I have you fooled?”

She detected the hint of smugness behind his questions. “You did a good job,” she admitted. She reached for her glass of wine. Before she took a sip, she arched a brow, and added, “I’d never have guessed that the deputy director of TIARA would be the mole everyone was looking for. My congratulations.”

“Yet you aren’t totally surprised?”

She savored the rich smoothness of the flavor for a moment. She could see the interest in his eyes and understood that power was this man’s high. He wanted power over her right now. “My...Steve saw Pierre going up to see you the other day, and it occurred to me that only one person could have known so many things so quickly. He must have easy access to certain videos and information, and he must also have enough authority to counter any moves in his way. And everything pointed at you, Mr. Gorman.” She turned once again to Pierre, not because she needed him for explanations, but because she knew it would irritate her captor. There was danger in the air. She sensed it in the way Pierre sat. She’d never seen him worried, but anxiety was in his eyes as he looked back at her. She chided, “I hope you’re not here because of me,
cher
.”

“I don’t think I’ve helped you much,” Pierre said. “Believe me, I’d never let you walk into danger.”

Marlena heard the hidden warning. “But danger is a necessary ingredient of my job, no? The very fact that TIARA uses your electronic surveillance technology was a giveaway.” She continued to ignore the other man on the other side of her, and reached out to pat Pierre’s hand. “Your presence suggests Mr. Gorman needs you and me here for some reason. What does he want?”

“He was negotiating for your life, my dear,” Gorman interrupted abruptly. He didn’t like her looking to du Scheum for answers. Pierre du Scheum was helpless against him. “He didn’t believe me, though, when I informed him you aren’t who you claimed to be.”

He frowned slightly when Marlena and du Scheum exchanged a smile. She was still deliberately turned away from him, and he wanted to make her give him that same smile.

Damn du Scheum. His calm demeanor was irritating. And now he, too, was paying too much attention to the woman.

“I merely pointed out my dealings with you have always profited me, that I can’t believe everything without proof. He showed me files of you, said Mr. McMillan worked under him, that he knew everything you did all along.”

Marlena’s heart jumped at the mention of Stash, but she kept her composure. Right now ignoring Gorman was the only way to rattle him. She allowed a mocking glance to the man at her other side. Yes, she could see that he wasn’t pleased at the moment. “Pierre, those details shouldn’t be of any importance. We’ve done business with each other for a long time now. Have I ever disappointed you?”

“That was what I told Mr. Gorman. He had, at least, conceded to my wishes not to treat you disrespectfully.”

“I’m grateful for that,” Marlena told him softly. She wasn’t surprised he was involved in shady dealings. Pierre always had ulterior motives, few of which he divulged, but she also knew he could keep her safe for only so long. Gorman wasn’t just some mole that would be easily caught and discarded. He was at the top of the CIA’s TIARA department; his fingerprints were everywhere. It meant he had a network of men working under him.

“So touching,” Gorman remarked, a touch too pleasantly now. “Why don’t we eat first? I personally don’t like conducting business on an empty stomach.”

Marlena looked down at the gourmet meal placed before her. Lobster and scallops, with some spice. She picked up a fork. “I take it then you want to talk business with me?” she asked as she plunged the utensil into the lobster.

Gorman picked up his wineglass. “Of course. There is the business of the laptop, which is in my possession again, by the way. And...your current man, the SEAL.”

He had the satisfaction of finally seeing a reaction from her. Her fork halted for a split second on the way to that luscious mouth. It was sad. He hated to see such weakness in a strong woman. That SEAL could never give her what he could, didn’t she see that?

He watched, fascinated, as she delicately bit into the meat, watched the food disappear between those sensuous lips. She chewed slowly as her deep blue eyes stared back at him. He wondered whether she was afraid for her boyfriend, and how he would use that to his advantage.

“What do you want me to do?” she finally asked.

Triumph bloomed through him. He could crush her if he cared to. But not yet. She still had some use. “Eat,” he ordered, “then we will see how you can please me.”

***

S
teve sifted through the folders. The intruder knew exactly what he was looking for. He wanted a certain laptop and had gone straight into the master bedroom instead of the one where Steve resided. T’s men had taken photographs of the man. They showed a well-dressed man in his thirties, with a briefcase in which to put the laptop. He looked like any other hotel guest, going up to his room. T’s men said they were still working on who he might be.

Steve looked through the documents he’d been studying the day before. With a gentle finger, he traced the circles Marlena had drawn using a black marker. Circles and arrows and bold underlines. The woman sure had a way with words. His small smile turned into a sober grimace. Lena. He mentally called out to her, as if that soundless desperation would get her to answer back.

Where was she? Was she all right?

If he hadn’t been yelling at her, they wouldn’t have been in the car like sitting ducks. If he hadn’t been consumed by jealousy, maybe Lena would still be here, teasing him. The anger directed at himself had been simmering since he woke up at the hospital. He refused to let it cross the barrier; it would impair his judgment again. Right now he needed to concentrate on finding out where Lena had been taken.

If they hurt a single hair on her, he would take them out one by one. The images of her tied up and injured tortured him every time he took a mental break. He slammed a hand on the table to break the tension. The violent sound was welcome in the air-conditioned stillness of the luxurious suite; he wanted to do violence. But not now. The documents with her bold lines caught his eyes again.

She had circled certain names, underlined other things, and her arrows appeared to cross-reference between names and information. What had his mermaid been thinking when she was doing this? He read the circled names. They were Task Force Two, including Harden and Cam. He grinned at the caricature drawn above Harden’s name, fingering it gently. Another secret his mermaid had hidden from him. She could draw very well.

There was the police report made out at Pierre du Scheum’s party, detailing what had happened and how the attacker was shot dead by the bodyguard. Here Marlena had underlined Birman’s name and cross-referenced it to a big black X. Steve started shuffling all the papers around, looking for a black X. He couldn’t find it.