Midnight Pursuits (12 page)

“Two. They don't look like government. Definitely private goons.”

“All they're doing is watching her?”

“So far.”

“Keep an eye on them. If they look like they're about to move on Baronova, take them out of the equation and get her to the safe house. Paige is making the final arrangements, so the place should be ready for us later today.”

“Copy that.” Sullivan paused for a second. “Hold up. Boston wants to talk to you.”

A moment later, Liam came on the line. “Hey, rookie?”

“What's up?”

“You couldn't have picked a warmer place to conduct this little side op of yours? I'm freezing my balls off here.”

Ethan laughed. “Go buy some long johns.”

“Fuck you. You owe me big for this.”

There was a shuffling sound and then Sullivan was back. “I'll call in with a status update later.”

“Copy that.”

“So Orlov's men are watching Baronova,” Juliet remarked after Ethan had hung up.

“Kozlov too,” he reminded her.

“Yeah, well, at least they don't have the goddamn Presidential Security Service to contend with. We drew the short straw with the prime minister's daughter.”

“Still can't think of a way to do twenty-four-hour recon on her, huh?”

“Nope.” Juliet raked a hand through her thick brown hair, then released a sigh. “Let's talk about something else. Maybe a solution will come to me if I clear my head and distract myself for a bit.”

“Sounds good. What do you want to talk about?”

“I don't know.” She adjusted the seat, getting more comfortable. “You owe me a life story, remember? Tell me how you hooked up with Morgan.”

“He recruited me. I'd just finished my tour of duty, and Morgan showed up at my apartment one day and convinced me not to re-up.”

Juliet wrinkled her forehead. “How'd he find you?”

“Apparently he knew my CO—seems like Morgan fucking knows everyone. He said I had the skills and attitude he looked for in a soldier and offered me a job.”

“And you accepted.”

“Yep.”

“Why?”

He faltered for a second. “What do you mean?”

“I mean,
why
? Why did you pick Morgan over the Marine Corps? Was it the money?”

“No, it wasn't that.” Ethan shifted in discomfort. “It . . . Ah, forget it.”

“Oh, come on, rookie. Spit it out. I showed you mine, so now you've gotta show me yours.”

“Fine.” He exhaled in a rush. “He reminded me of my dad, okay?”

Juliet looked startled. “Morgan?”

“Yeah. There was just something about him . . .” Ethan cleared his throat, growing more and more uncomfortable. “I knew from the moment I met him that he was a man of honor. He's a bastard sometimes, no doubt about it, but when he showed up at my door, I took one look at him and knew I wanted to be part of his team.”

“Because he reminded you of your father,” she said slowly. “Out of curiosity, what happened to your dad? You said your mother's dead, but what about him?”

“Also dead.” Ethan swallowed the lump in his throat. “They died in a car accident when I was eighteen. They hit a patch of black ice and crashed their car into a ditch. Died on impact.”

“Where was this?”

“Missouri. I grew up in a small town north of Kansas City.”

“Ahhh, you're a small-town boy. Makes perfect sense.”

He bristled. “What's that supposed to mean?”

“Your whole gentlemanly vibe. Great manners, too nice for your own good—it's the small-towner in you. Anyway, so you were orphaned, huh?”

A jolt of pain shot through him, settling into a tight vise around his heart. “Yep. Little Orphan Ethan,” he said lightly.

“And Little Orphan Juliet,” she replied, more subdued than he'd ever heard her. “But my folks died way before yours. My dad OD'd when I was two—I don't remember him at all. And my mom OD'd two years later. I have only vague memories of her.” She abruptly reverted back to her trademark sarcasm. “But let me guess—your folks weren't junkies like mine. They were Mr. and Mrs. Perfect, right?”

“Pretty much. They were good, hardworking people. Patriotic as hell too. My dad was career navy. He was so disappointed when I told him I didn't want to enlist. I wanted to go to med school, be a doctor someday.”

“But then he died and you ended up enlisting. You did it to honor him, didn't you?”

“Yes.”

She went quiet for a second, then shook her head in dismay. “Goddamn you.”

“Why do you always seem to be saying that to me?”

“Because you're too damn perfect, Ethan! I mean, listen to yourself. You aspired to be a doctor. So you could save people, right? And then you ended up serving in the Marines, so you could save the damn world.” She heaved out a sigh. “You make everyone around you look like a selfish ass.”

“Hold on—did you just call me
Ethan
?”

Her olive cheeks took on a pink hue. “No.”

“You said my name. Not
kiddo
, not
rookie
. My actual name.”

“So what if I did?”

Triumph coursed through his blood. “It means I'm getting to you.”

Now she was practically sputtering. “You're not getting to me.”

“Ha. I totally am.” He flashed a victorious grin. “You like me.”

“I do not.”

“You absolutely do.”

Their gazes locked, and almost immediately the air in the car grew hotter, sizzled with awareness. Oh yes, she was definitely warming up to him. Not only that, but he could see in her eyes that she wanted him. She was looking at his mouth like she wanted him to kiss her. And his hands, as if she craved his touch. And then those gorgeous chocolate brown eyes dipped to his groin, as if she were dying to unzip his pants, release his dick, and ride him until they were both panting for air.

“Don't even think about it,” she blurted out.

“Think about what?” he asked innocently.

“Your stupid baseball game. You're not making it to second base.”

“Sure I am.” The shrill ringing of a bell brought a rueful smile to his lips. “Just not now.”

The moment of awareness dissipated as the doors of the school suddenly flew open and uniform-clad girls of all ages began streaming out. Several of the girls were accompanied by stone-faced men who clearly served as bodyguards to students from wealthy and powerful families.

He recognized Anastacia Karin the second she appeared on the massive front steps. She was prettier in person than in the picture Paige had e-mailed them, a slender waif of a girl with shoulder-length brown hair, dark green eyes, and an air of sadness about her.

“Crap,” Juliet muttered. “She's about to go home and we still haven't figured out a way to keep tabs on her when she's there.”

“I'll call the guys and pick their brains,” Ethan replied as he started the engine of the BMW.

“Maybe Noelle will have some ideas too. Too bad Isabel's not available. She totally could have pulled off my maid scheme.”

He couldn't argue with that. Isabel Roma was a master of disguise. If anyone could transform into a completely different person, it was her.

“We'll come up with something,” he assured Juliet. “I'm sure there's a way to do it without investing a lot of time and money.”

“I hope so.”

He waited until Anastacia and her bodyguard had left in their town car, then smoothly joined traffic, keeping one car's length between him and their target.

“What do we know about the guards?” he asked, straining to remember the details in Paige's report.

“Not much. They're the equivalent of the Secret Service, so it's difficult to get our hands on their files. Paige said she'll do it if it's really necessary, but for now she just gave us their names—Mikhail and Roman. Not sure which one is driving her right now.”

They continued following the black car, but when they neared the turnoff that would take them to the Karin estate, the Lincoln sped right past it.

“Where the hell are they going?” Juliet demanded.

Ethan shrugged. “Who knows? Maybe she has a piano lesson. Or she might take ballet. Or they could be going shopping.”

“Paige's intel said Anastacia is pretty much a hermit. She's driven to and from school and hardly ever leaves that fortress.” Juliet's dark eyes were fixed on the rear bumper of the town car. “Something's wrong.”

“Relax. Let's not worry until there's actually something to worry about.”

To his consternation, the Lincoln seemed to be moving farther and farther away from civilization. The four-lane road turned to a two-lane road, then a one-lane road. Ethan and Juliet remained one car behind, but when their buffer executed an abrupt left turn, there was suddenly nothing between them and Anastacia Karin.

“Shit. He's going to make the tail.”

Juliet tried to sound optimistic. “He might not.”

“You said so yourself—those guards are Secret Service. They've been well trained.” Ethan set his jaw. “He'll make the tail.”

He eased up on the gas, attempting to place more distance between the BMW and the Lincoln, but he knew that wasn't much of a solution. The longer they followed Karin's car, the likelier it became that the driver would realize he had company.

“Where the fuck is he taking her?” Juliet's concern was unmistakable, hanging on her throaty voice and bringing a deep crease to her forehead.

Ethan's gaze swept over their deserted surroundings. They were in an industrial area now, where abandoned warehouses and derelict buildings with snow-covered roofs lined each side of the narrow road. Many of the structures were closed off by chain-link fences that were either broken or sagging to the earth.

Smothering a sigh, he turned to Juliet in resignation. “Okay, I think we're allowed to worry now.”

“Please tell me what's going on,” Anastacia begged, battling the rush of fear gripping her throat.

In the driver's seat, Roman glanced over with irritated blue eyes. “I told you, I'm taking you to your father.”

“I don't understand. Why didn't you let me talk to him?”

“Because it's not safe.”

Roman returned his attention to the road, dismissing her as he'd done ever since he'd received that phone call just as they'd been leaving her school.

After he'd hung up, he'd gravely announced that there was a national emergency, but he refused to elaborate, even now.

Stacie couldn't control the panic swimming in her belly. Was her father hurt? She knew his position in the government made him a target—he'd received hundreds of death threats over the years—but her dad maintained that she had no reason to worry, that their guards would keep them safe.

“No harm will ever come to you,”
he always assured her.
“I will never let that happen, little dove. I'm here to protect you.”

But he wasn't here now. How could he protect her when he wasn't
here
?

Stacie tried to draw in slow, steady breaths, the way Nina had taught her to do whenever she was overcome with anxiety. But the breathing exercises didn't work. Her throat had closed up on her. Her chest was tight with fear.

“Son of a bitch.”

Roman's muttered curse only elevated her panic. “What's wrong?”

He didn't answer, his gaze glued to the rearview mirror.

Stacie twisted around in her seat to look out the rear windshield. She spotted a black car behind them, but it was really far back. She didn't understand how it could be a threat, but Roman's body was stiffer than a board, his profile revealing a dire expression as he watched the other car like a hawk.

“What is it? Are they following us?”

“Quiet,” he snapped. “Just sit still and stay quiet.”

Her hands began to tingle, tremble. She didn't know what was happening and she hated feeling out of control. Why wasn't Roman telling her anything? And why was he reaching into his coat pocket for—

A gun. He'd pulled out a black gun.

And now he was pressing the button to roll down the window!

She gasped. “What are you doing?”

He kept his right hand on the steering wheel and gripped the weapon with his left one. “Cover your ears, Anastacia.”

“What? W-why?”

Her eardrums exploded as Roman opened fire.

•   •   •

“Son of a bitch is shooting at us!” Ethan swerved sharply as the driver of the town car extended his arm and sent another bullet flying toward them.

The first shot had made contact with the windshield. It hadn't shattered, but a spiderweb of glass now obstructed Ethan's vision. Adrenaline flooded his bloodstream, snapping him into action.

“Get down,” he yelled at Juliet.

She ignored the command, instead withdrawing the Beretta from her waistband and proceeding to roll down her window.

“I guess he made the tail,” she said dryly, unperturbed by the fact that they were being shot at.

A metallic ding sounded as the driver's bullet connected with their front bumper. The Lincoln was swerving wildly as the shooter attempted to simultaneously drive and hit his target. With the layer of ice covering the road, the car's rapid zigzagging only got worse, eliciting another irritated expletive from Ethan's lips.

He tossed out a quick order at the woman beside him. “Shoot out the tires. The maniac's gonna get that girl killed.”

Without a word, Juliet hauled half her body out the window, twisted around, and took aim.

A second later, a piece of the Lincoln's undercarriage snapped off. The debris spiraled in the air and collided with the hood of their car.

“Keep it steady,” Juliet shouted over the gust of freezing wind hissing in from the open window. “I can't get a good shot.”

Her second attempt lodged a bullet into the bumper. The third just barely clipped the rear left tire. The fourth missed the town car altogether because Ethan had to veer again to avoid another shot to their windshield.

“Goddamn it,” he growled. “Take the wheel, Juliet.”

She didn't utter a protest. Just ducked inside and took over driving duties, steering the BMW as Ethan unholstered his pistol and cranked open the driver's window.

With intense focus he'd honed in the military, he stuck his head and arm out the window. The frigid wind slapped the sleeve of his parka and chilled his bare hand, but he wasn't deterred by it.

Keeping the pistol steady, he took aim and pulled the trigger.

•   •   •

Stacie screamed as another explosion rocked the car. This one sounded different from the gunshots that had nearly shattered her eardrums. Suddenly the car was fishtailing violently, sliding on the icy road in a furious pace that had her heart in her throat. Trees and buildings whizzed by her window as Roman struggled to control the vehicle.

She was going to die. Oh God. She was going to
die
.

They hit something. She didn't know what because she'd closed her eyes by then, but the car wasn't moving anymore. Nausea churned in her belly. She opened her mouth to scream again but couldn't make a sound because something exploded in her face.

Agony seized her nose and she felt a gush of moisture pour out of her nostrils. The air bag. It had burst in her face.

Her heart was pounding so loudly all she could hear was its rapid
thump-thump-thump
in her ears. Beside her, Roman was cursing a blue streak and fumbling with his seat belt.

“Stay in the car,” he ordered.

The request caused a hysterical laugh to bubble in her mouth. Stay in the car? Where did he think she would go?

Stacie heard a click and then Roman was gone. He'd left her. Left her in the car, which she realized was at the bottom of a small ditch. Snow covered the broken windshield, and a cold breeze snaked in through the cracks in the glass, making her shiver uncontrollably.

Gasping for air, she pushed aside the now-deflated air bag and brought her hand to her nose. She soaked up the blood with the sleeve of her coat, her panicked gaze moving to the driver's window. All she saw was the top of the ditch. Roman was gone.

He'd left her.

“No harm will ever come to you.”

“Daddy.” The strangled plea flew out of her mouth. To no avail.

Because her father wasn't here. Her father didn't care about her.

And it was her birthday tomorrow.

Stacie struggled to unbuckle her seat belt. Her school bag had fallen to the floor during the crash and she reached for it with trembling fingers. Nina. She would call Nina. And Nina would come and help and—

Her phone was gone.

It wasn't in her bag.

She moaned in anguish. She'd never been so frightened in her life. Her entire body shook like a leaf in a windstorm, rocking even harder when she heard the squeal of tires coming from the road. A car door slammed. And then . . . another gunshot. This one was muffled, farther away.

Where was Roman? Why had he left her here? Why had he—

The driver's door flew open.

Relief flooded her body when she saw Nina's familiar face. She didn't even question the woman's presence—all she knew was that someone had come for her. Someone was here to save her.

“Nina! Oh, God! Where's Roman? What's going on?”

The blond woman's calm expression didn't waver. “Roman's dead.”

“What? How?” Tears slid down Stacie's cheeks and mingled with the blood seeping out of her nose. “What about my father? Where is he? Is he all right?”

Nina didn't answer. The woman's head had snapped to the side as if she'd seen something, but Stacie was too overwrought to notice.

“Take me home,” she pleaded, starting to climb over the seat toward Nina. “Please, I want to go ho—”

The words died in her throat when she noticed the gun in Nina's hand.

And it was pointed right at her.

“N-Nina?”

Regret flashed in the woman's blue eyes. “I'm sorry, little dove, but the country comes first.”

She'd barely registered the response when another gunshot cracked in the air.

And then Nina's blood sprayed all over her face.