Pushing the Limit (14 page)

He held her tightly, her breasts pressed against his chest, her legs wrapped around his waist. His mind flashed on the restaurant in D.C. The look of anger and defiance when he’d reacted so badly the first time they’d had sex. Every conversation they’d had. The resolve in her eyes when she’d talked about how the money belonged to the Iraqis.

There was no way he was letting her go. No way in hell.

His
.

Danny’s.

Shit.

“So, our operating theory is that Megellin Foundation knew about the plane crash somehow. And after maybe ten other digs along its flight path, they eventually found some evidence of it at my site.”

“Correct. At least for want of a better hypothesis.” Matt said.

Halfway through the night, the power had come back, meaning all the lights and the radio came on in the room, waking them both. After ten minutes of trying to get back to sleep, they agreed to finish Malcolm’s papers. It hadn’t been a fun read. A zipped inside pocket of his satchel had produced a thumb drive with the reports from the last twelve surveys Megellin had commissioned. No commentary, but when Matt had plotted them on a map, ten of the sites had followed a straight line from the air base outside Kuwait City into Iraq. Harry’s site was their eleventh attempt at finding something. And it was pretty clear that they had found it.

Despite the seriousness of their situation, Harry’s attention wandered from the paper. Matt’s brow was slightly furrowed as he sat on the bed and sorted through papers. Every part of her wanted to reach out to him. To touch him, stroke her fingers down his tattoos. Was that… something other than just sex? It had been so long that she felt… was it affection?

She looked back down and bit her lip. She couldn’t feel anything for him. That wasn’t part of her play. Dammit.

“Don’t bite your lip. That’s my job,” Matt said, grinning. “Come here.”

“No.” She tried to cut him off at the pass by giving him a stern look, but it only served to make his smile broader.

“Come here,” he repeated.

When she didn’t immediately move, he lunged across the bed and dragged her over to him, dumping her unceremoniously on his lap. She slid her arm around his neck to keep her balance. It didn’t seem fair that he was so much stronger and bigger than she was. He was really just so much more everything.

He kissed her mouth gently, chastely even. Just the feel of his lips soft against hers stirred an unfamiliar tension in her stomach. He wrapped his arms around her and nuzzled her hair and then continued to read. It was… intimate. In that second she wanted to stay there, on his lap, forever. Flashes of Matt in her house, her yard, puppies running around their feet.

She jumped up, making out that she needed to get some papers from the desk. She put both hands on the pockmarked wooden surface and took a breath. This. Was. Not. Happening. She was about to turn around and tell him that she couldn’t do this… closeness… when her Blackberry rang. She grabbed it and looked at the ID. Because they were in Iraq, it showed just the phone number, but she recognized it as a Megellin number. She’d have to tell them about Malcolm. She picked up.

“This is Henrietta Markowitz,” she said.

“You didn’t file your report last night, so I’m releasing you from your contract. That also means your flights have been canceled and refunded. Are we clear, Ms. Markowitz?” His voice was cold.

Shock sent cold trickles from the top of her head to the base of her spine. She sank back down to the bed. “Mr. Randolph. Professor Malcolm Rapson was murdered last night. The whole hotel was under police control. I couldn’t…”

“Well, that’s very sad. But that doesn’t mitigate your abject failure to produce the required output. Your contract has been canceled. Good day to you.” He hung up.

“Shit.” She looked up at Matt. “I’ve been fired. He didn’t think that Malcolm being killed was a good enough reason for me to not file my report. He’s canceled all our flights. I’ll have to book new ones. Shit. I wonder if I need to book one for Jason. I wonder if I can even get ahold of him.”

“I’m sorry, but at least that’s one thing we don’t have to worry about now.”

She looked at him questioningly.

“Your survey. We don’t have to worry about you finishing. My plan is for you to leave here, go back to the U.S., and let me and David handle the situation until the rest of my unit and some official security gets here,” Matt said, folding up the map.

“No way. If I leave you to your own devices, that money will never get to where it should go. I want the people in this country to have a better future. This money can mean schools and wells and better housing. I want Danny to have died for something good.” She swallowed. “And I don’t like saying this, but I don’t trust the government to do what’s right instead of what looks good politically. I’m sorry, I just don’t.” Why was she being this ornery? She had no idea why she was trying so hard to piss him off. And it was working.

“I don’t think you understand what’s happening. I mean, could you be so obstinate that you really don’t realize how much danger you’ll be in? If my team and I don’t end this now, people will probably be after you forever. Do you get that? Anyone close to you will be in danger, too. It’s killing me to have to send you away, when I want to have you in sight 24/7 just so I can be sure you’re okay. But having you here is not going to get the job done. It’s going to inhibit me doing my job.” He paced up and down the small room, as if the space wasn’t big enough to house his frustration.

“Your job?” she asked, painfully aware that her voice was raising almost loud enough for the bug to hear her through the running water. “Your job being Grant, Mike, and Doug, right?”

“Who?” He stopped pacing.

“Exactly.
Exactly
. The men you are supposed to be finding? Remember them?”

Matt dropped into the chair and held his head in his hands. “Fuck.”

“It’s okay.” Her fingers itched to reach out and touch him, but she was afraid to get close to him. Afraid of what that would mean. “I will do anything and everything to help you recover those men, but not the money.”

He raised his head. “You… you being here is fucking with my head. You’re inextricably linked to Danny in my memory, and it’s messing with my focus. My need to keep you safe is…”

“That’s what I’m saying. That’s on you. You need to sort that out. I’m not going home because of something that’s going on in your head. Clearly, we’ve both got… issues, but that doesn’t stop us from doing what we have to do,” she said, she thought fairly reasonably. “Look, I have to arrange Molly’s and Jason’s travel downstairs with reception. Why don’t you figure out a plan that doesn’t involve me going home, and we’ll reconvene over breakfast.”

He nodded, remaining silent. His eyes were blank, and she wondered for a second if she’d broken him. “All right?”

He nodded again. She sighed, puffing out an exasperated breath, and left him there, wallowing in his own… whatever he was wallowing in. Last night had been amazing, but an amazing she needed to tuck away somewhere safe. She was afraid that if she let her thoughts and feelings leak out, she’d never stuff them back in again. He was doing a number on her head, too. Her head. Her heart. The heart she’d locked up since Danny. She was not going to start having feelings for someone, here and now of all places and times. Not going to happen. She stomped down the stairs and tried to remember what kind of air tickets she’d gotten the team.

The lobby was chaotic. People with bags were trying to get the receptionist’s attention, there was a line for the lobby phone, people were tripping over luggage, and everyone seemed to be shouting about something. She took it all in from the second-to-bottom step, until someone with a huge suitcase virtually pushed her down the other step, trying to get to the lobby.

“Sorry, love,” he said in a Scottish accent.

“What’s going on?” she asked, grabbing ahold of the handrail.

“The police want to interview everyone at the station. And that is bad news. Apparently few who go there return. Everyone’s trying to make a break for the border. Me included. Excuse me.” He turned away and melted into the crowd.

She climbed back up a few steps and scanned the crowd to see if she could see Molly or Jason. They weren’t in the lobby, so she pushed her way through the noisy groups and looked in the restaurant. No one was in there except for a few waiters hovering by the buffet and talking anxiously together.

After negotiating the lobby again, she took the steps two-by-two back to her room. She flung the door open, planning to enlist Matt’s help in finding them, only to find the door blocked by baggage. She could just about wriggle through the space left for the door. Jason was sitting on his expensive hard Samsonite suitcase, and Molly was sitting cross-legged on the bed. Matt was standing by the window eyeing the scene warily.

“Downstairs is chaos; apparently the police are due to arrive and no one wants to talk to them,” Harry said as she squeezed through the bags strewn across the floor. “I don’t remember either of you bringing this much,” she complained.

“We did. We just never had it all in one room before,” Molly said evenly. “So how are you springing us out of here?”

How indeed. “I think the best idea is to get Mueen to take you to the airport and see if he can pull some strings to get you booked on the first flight. There’s no point waiting here for an outside line, or to check out downstairs. You just go, and I’ll check you both out later.”

“I’ll go down and wait for Mueen, then. Tell him the change of plan,” Matt said, seemingly eager to get out of the fast becoming claustrophobic room.

“Ask him if he’ll meet us around back. Frankly, getting through the throng with all these bags will be a task in itself,” Harry said.

“Besides which, I don’t think it’s a good idea that you should be seen, especially if the police are on their way.”

Jason spoke for the first time. “Look, I’m not sure if I’m going to go. I may stay and help out, you know?”

Silence descended. Harry took in Molly’s bowed head, as if she didn’t want to catch anyone’s eye.

“I’m sorry, Jason, I appreciate the sentiment, but you’re contracted to my company, so I need you to be on the plane. The insurance just to have you both here with me was astronomical. If something happened to you, and I had an opportunity to take you out of danger and didn’t… well, suffice to say, you’d be getting my first-born child.”

“I’ll sign a waiver.” His voice was flat, determined. Basically, as unlike Jason as she could remember hearing.

Molly’s head snapped up. “I’m sure Katherine needs someone to look after her now that the professor isn’t here anymore, right?”

“It’s not personal,” was all he replied.

“I can’t force you to get on the plane, Jason, but I will need you to sign a waiver, and I won’t be needing your services. I will of course pay you through to the end of the week when we were supposed to go home.”

This was so weird, and unlike Jason. But what did she know about him, really?

“You write it, I’ll sign it,” he said, fiddling with his phone.

“Do you still need your room?”

“Nah, it’s okay. I think I’ll move to the Majestic. There’s more going on downtown.”

“Okay?” Harry said, glancing at Matt, who shrugged.

Jason jumped up, and put together his bags, and pulled out the handle of his hard suitcase. “It’s been great working with you.”

“Hold it.” Harry lunged for her work folder and pulled out a bunch of confidentiality agreements that she kept handy in case they co-opted someone else to help them. She crossed out a few items and added a sentence or two. “Here, sign on the dotted line.”

Jason read it quickly, and signed. “Seriously, I learned a lot. Thank you.”

“Thank you for your help. Maybe we’ll see you Stateside,” Harry said as he opened the door.

“Sure,” he said very unconvincingly and disappeared.

* * *

With Jason’s departure, the estrogen level jumped in the room to uncomfortable levels. Harry had her arm around Molly, comforting her for some reason.

“Don’t worry. I’ll have David look out for him. He’s at the Majestic, too. I’ll go find Mueen and tell him to come around to the back of the hotel.”

Harry just looked at him with a pained expression on her face. He didn’t have time to figure out what was going on here. “Which reminds me: I need to check in with him. I left him a little drunk last night.” He grabbed David’s sat phone, his wallet, and the keys to the Suburban. “I’ll give him a ride there. Listen. Do not leave the hotel. Send Molly down to Mueen, but don’t go anywhere until I get back, okay?”

“Sure.” She sounded distracted, and he wanted nothing more than to wrap her in his arms and soothe her furrowed brow away. But he didn’t.

He went down to the lobby. Most of the people were migrating to the driveway, presumably waiting for taxis. He found Mueen waiting farther down the driveway, on the other side of the road from the hotel. “Can you take Molly to the airport? Harry’s taking her to the back of the hotel, to avoid all this.” He waved at the hundred-plus people pushing themselves and baggage through the tiny front doors.

Mueen just nodded and climbed back into the truck and started the engine. Matt watched him reverse and take a small service road toward the back of the hotel. Jason. Where the hell did he go? He pushed back into the hotel and looked around. No sign.

He wasn’t outside, either.
Oh well, he’s not our problem anymore
.

Matt took the Suburban back to the Majestic hotel and called up from the reception to David’s room. There was no answer. He looked at his watch. He supposed it was feasible that he was already out and about at nine a.m. Maybe MGL Security had an unlimited supply of black obtrusive Suburbans. It wouldn’t surprise him; the last time he’d been in the Green Zone in Baghdad the streets had been full of them.

He decided to hang around in the lobby until he found someone who looked like they could work for MGL Security, or until Jason or whatever his name was, turned up. At least then he could give Harry some peace of mind.

Ducking into the restaurant to have a quick look around, he found David in a booth, chowing down the breakfast that treats all hangovers. Except it didn’t even seem as if he had one. He dropped down opposite him and grabbed some toast off his plate before David could even react.

“ ’Sup, bud?” David asked, pushing his toast plate toward Matt.

“ ’Sup yourself? Did you get to your room all right?” he asked mildly, even though he wanted to rip him a new one for ditching him.