The Impossible Alliance (16 page)

It hadn't.

Oh, Don had tried. He'd managed to withhold his horror for a few days, anyway. Seven to be exact. It was then that she'd realized she'd left a sheaf of notes in his apartment. She'd shown up unexpectedly to retrieve them—and caught him in bed with another woman. A whole woman. To this day, Alex had no idea what she looked like. All she knew was that like Don, and unlike her, the woman had been absolutely, perfectly, balanced. Two legs, two arms, two breasts, two eyes. And, of course, two ears.

Alex drew a deep breath and retrieved the vial, twisting off the gold cap so she could apply Harold's magic adhesive to his even more magical creation, then she fitted the prosthetic into place with an ease honed through years of practice.

The illusion was complete.

Alex Morrow, the woman, was back.

It was a hell of a lot better than being Alexis Hatch
Warner. A hell of a lot safer, too. Personally, as well as professionally. Alex secreted the empty box, mirror and scissors in the bottom drawer of Orloff's desk and tucked the key to his office door, as well as the vial of adhesive, into the pocket of her jeans. The bulk of the evidence concealed, she snagged the remote control off the blotter and switched it on, deftly adjusting the volume.

Relief flooded her as recognizable sound slammed into her right eardrum for the first time in days.

Two and a half seconds later, she stiffened.

Footsteps.

No,
boot
steps.

On the other side of the door. The still-locked side of the door. Very soft, but definitely there. She held her breath as she waited. Sure enough, he tried the knob. Her nerves hadn't been working overtime. If anything, the damaged prosthetic had forced her unusually heightened hearing to work undertime. Jared had followed her—and now she was trapped.

How the devil was she going to get out of here?

Out of this?

The man was supposed to be her partner. How could she possibly explain her presence in Roman Orloff's locked office—without his knowledge? She ran through the possibilities, however remote, and latched on to the most believable one. She shoved the hearing aid remote deep into her brown leather bag and slung the bag over her shoulder as she stood.

Might as well get it over with. She rounded the desk in Orloff's office and twisted the doorknob before she lost her nerve, opening the door and plowing squarely into the chest she'd been sealed against on that bed in Orloff's house eleven hours before.

“Oh! Sorry,” she said. “I didn't realize Orloff sent you.”

“He didn't.” He allowed her to insert six inches of desperately needed air between them, but retained the hold
he'd acquired on her arms as the suspicion within those amber eyes deepened. “What are you doing up here?”

In the end, she blessed his proximity.

That piercing gaze.

The first succeeded in torching her neck with just the right amount of necessary heat, and the second prompted the perfect amount of evasion in her own gaze. “Um, it's that time of the month. Orloff gave me his key so I could use his private bathroom.” She bit down on the satisfaction she felt. There wasn't a man alive who'd question that one.

Except him.

Those damned brooding brows lifted. “Really? Where did you get the tampon, honey? Or does Orloff keep a box of—”

He stiffened along with her.

Unfortunately she could tell he wasn't buying her sudden urgency any more than he'd bought her original story, as she grabbed at the sleeve of his sweater and attempted to haul the collection of muscles beneath, as well as the rest of his massive body, into the office. “Hurry! Someone's coming.”

He vaulted into the room, dragging her with him as he closed the door behind them. “Are you sure? Your hearing's been off these past few days. Maybe you—”

“My hearing is just fine, thank you.”

Though she hadn't yet had a chance to calibrate the new remote, she swore she'd heard voices at the base of those granite stairs. She ignored the suspicion still swirling in Jared's eyes as she pressed her index finger to her lips, straining to capture the sound waves beyond the thick slab of wood. Five seconds later she caught it again.

Them.

Orloff had reached the top of those steps. Though he was the only one speaking, judging from the number of footfalls that accompanied his, Orloff had several other men in tow. At least one of them was someone she and Agent Sullivan had come a long way to meet. Five more seconds passed
before she was certain Jared had caught Orloff's voice, too. The subtle warning in the doctor's carefully phrased, almost painfully slow Rebelian words. They no longer needed to worry whether or not General Bruno DeBruzkya would show up at the hospital.

He just had.

T
hey had to get out of here.

Now.

Jared grabbed Alex's arm with his right hand and latched on to the knob of the doorknob with his left. Having never seen the woman in action, he had no idea how she preferred to arrange her confrontations, but his preferences did not include closed-in spaces with barely enough room to maneuver. Especially not when he was outnumbered by at least three to one. He wasted precious seconds as he strained to double check that herd of footfalls. He twisted the knob, putting his lips to her ear as she balked.

“Trust me.”

He opened the door to the office and tugged her out into the corridor before she could argue.

“Ah, there you are!”

Jared loosened his grip, using Alex's elbow to spin her around with him as he turned toward Orloff's voice. His footfall estimation had been off. The squat Rebelian dictator had five armed camouflaged thugs in tow, not three,
and unlike the prepubescent packs that roved the streets of Rajalla, these men had been shaving for ten years at least. DeBruzkya barked a series of orders, causing the squad to break off and fall into line at attention halfway down the corridor.

Orloff and the general continued on. The hallway was too dim for him to make out even Orloff's familiar features just yet. From the tension radiating off Alex, he suspected she couldn't make them out, either. He brushed his lips over the short curls at her ear, disguising the motion as a brief but loving kiss as he murmured, “Relax.”

“Easy for you to say. He didn't have
your
head bashed in.”

True. But there was no time for even a whispered comeback, much less outright reassurance, as Orloff and Bruno DeBruzkya closed the remaining distance. Jared settled for sliding his arm about Alex's waist and risked a quick squeeze as the men came into view. It worked. She relaxed.

Visibly, anyway.

He could still feel the tension radiating from her back into the muscles of his arm. He left his arm about her waist as long as he could, withdrawing it only when Orloff stretched out his right hand and clapped it into his as if they were old friends. The gleam in those dark eyes confirmed that was indeed the game.

Orloff's grin widened. “I see you've located your lovely wife. Good. General, may I present Dr. Jeff Coleman and his wife, Alice.” The physician deferred briefly to the balding general, allowing Jared and Alex the opportunity to study the notorious Bruno DeBruzkya up close for the first time. The assessment Jared had formed while reading the man's dossier on the transatlantic flight was dead on.

General or not, DeBruzkya hadn't seen a gym in years. At five-nine, the man was nearly as round as he was tall. Definitely more brute pudge than brawn. And definitely interested in Alex.

Salivating.

Even as Jared looped his arm back about her waist, he told himself he was doing it to protect their cover. That was all. This woman—his
partner
—could handle herself. So why had his arm tightened instinctively as the man drooled on her boots?

Unfortunately DeBruzkya wasn't stupid. He picked up on the subtle motion and grinned. The man's fleshy lips parted a moment later, but Orloff beat him to sound.

“Feeling better, Alice?” He turned to DeBruzkya before she could answer. “Jeff and I met while attending university in the United States. Alice, however, is new to their marriage, as well as hospital work. She became queasy.” His conspiratorial smile spread. “I believe she may be presenting a special gift to my friend this Christmas.” He capped the grin with a sigh. “But so far, she has refused to allow either of us to run the necessary tests.”

Jared had to give Orloff credit. Whatever Orloff and Alex were hiding, the doctor was doing his best to look out for her. Unfortunately the fact that DeBruzkya had been willing to use Lily Scott's own son against her weeks earlier to coerce her into submitting to the general's perverse will suggested the man wouldn't give a damn about a hypothetical pregnancy.

The moment that dank-brown gaze slid down Alex's curves, Jared knew he was right. Barely suppressed fury crawled through his gut and straight up into his heart as the general's gaze finally rose. It intensified as DeBruzkya's gaze stopped to study a particular set of curves he had no right studying.

So much for DeBruzkya's undying devotion to Lily.

The general finally managed to drag his gaze above her neck. A smarmy smile followed. “Congratulations, Alice. My sister is pregnant, too. Though she is—” His gaze slid low once again. “Much further along. In fact, that is why I stopped by this morning. To arrange for a specialist to come to my home to examine her. I'm afraid her usual
doktor
recently met with a most unfortunate…accident—much like my son.”

Alex blinked. “You have a son?”

DeBruzkya nodded. “A recent acquisition. From what Dr. Orloff tells me, I believe you have met.” The general finally included Jared in his gaze. “As have you, Dr. Coleman. In fact, Orloff tells me your blood flows through the boy.”

This time, Alex stiffened. “Mikhail is your son?” Orloff stepped forward, covering for them before Jared could. “Yes. Our benevolent general has just been to visit the patients in our main hospital bay. He was so taken by the child's plight, he has decided to adopt the boy. There will be press conference this afternoon to announce the wonderful news.” By the time Orloff finished speaking, Alex had recovered.

Her smile even looked sincere. “Congratulations, General. And I'm sure your sister will be thrilled to discover a readymade cousin for her own child—especially if she has a son. Mikhail is such a brave boy. He'll be a great role model.”

DeBruzkya frowned. “My sister carries a girl.” He shrugged. “No matter, I will still have my heir.”

Christ. Nothing like a little perspective on life. Then again, Jared knew firsthand there were men who managed to treasure one child, while finding another eminently dismissible. However, he could still feel this particular child's mangled flesh in his hands as he'd worked to staunch that unending flow of blood. And to know this bastard was indirectly responsible? Despite the bile scalding up his throat, Jared managed to join Alex and Orloff in a passingly polite nod.

DeBruzkya's smile returned. The revolting gleam came with it. “So…you must join me in a celebration.”

A party? Now?

Their collective shock must have shown.

The man appeared impervious as he nodded. “Of course.
We must toast the foreigner who came to the aid of my son.” If the man had been looking at the foreigner who'd provided the blood, Jared might have bought the sentiment. As it was, DeBruzkya was still focused on Alex. He finally turned to include Jared and Orloff in his gaze. “You must all come to dinner. Two nights hence. We shall dine at nine o'clock. My aides have arranged a small celebration at my private compound for my most trusted supporters to observe the anniversary of my reign. The fete shall now be twofold. Tell me you can attend.”

It was not a request.

Jared almost laughed at the irony of it.

Just like that he and Alex had managed to finagle their way back into that castle, back to that cache of gems—with Orloff in tow, no less. Jared studied DeBruzkya as the man openly studied Alex. They had an invitation, all right. A gilded one. But at what cost?

Orloff nodded first. “I would be honored.”

Jared forced himself to add his own brief, stiff nod. “As would I…and my wife.”

DeBruzkya ignored the subtle stress he'd placed on the word
wife
as he hooked his meaty fingers into Alex's slender ones. The dim light flickering throughout the corridor glinted off the general's naked scalp as he lowered his mouth, intent on pressing his fleshy lips to the back of her hand. The man spotted the ring and paused. “Beautiful.”

“Thank you.”

His head rose a fraction of an inch. His gaze shifted to Jared's, his interest locked in.

“An antique?”

Much as he was suddenly loath to fan this man's interest regarding anything even remotely connected to Alex, Jared nodded. “I purchased it in Bosnia.”

“Really?”

Yup, interest had definitely been fanned.

“When was that?”

“Couple of years ago, during the war. I bought it off an
impoverished officer's wife.” He gave a light, easy shrug. “She needed the money. I figured I'd eventually need a wife.” Relief seared into him as the general finally released Alex's hand and stepped away.

“It's set, then. Dinner at nine. You will meet my pilot at the helicopter pad on the roof here at the hospital at eight.”

“We'll be there.”

“Excellent. I'll let you get back to your duties. I understand the doors open soon.” DeBruzkya turned, then stopped as if he'd suddenly remembered something. From the speculation gleaming in his eyes as he turned back, he had. “You attended Stanford University with Dr. Orloff?”

Jared bit down on his curse.

Orloff had improvised without warning him. While it wasn't impossible, it would take the information techs at ARIES an hour or two to insert the evidence to support the change. But if DeBruzkya's thugs got on the horn quickly enough…

He nodded, anyway. “I did. I was premed at the time. Roman was already in his specialty.”

DeBruzkya nodded. “I don't suppose either of you met a man by the name of Krazner? Doctor Gregory Krazner?”

Jared waited until Orloff shook his head, before adding a quick shake of his own. “Not that I recall.”

DeBruzkya stared at Jared for a moment, then shrugged. The speculation gone from his eyes, he turned and headed down the corridor. Back to his squad of idle thugs. Jared waited until the general and his goons and reached the granite stairs and stepped down onto them before he turned to follow Alex and Orloff into the doctor's office. He closed the door behind himself.

“Do you know a Krazner?”

Again, Orloff shook his head.

“I do.”

They spun together to face Alex.

She nodded. “Unless DeBruzkya was referring to some
one else, Greg Krazner is a colleague of mine. A geologist. Greg did his graduate work at the Colorado School of Mines, but he could have completed his undergrad stint at Stanford. I'll check. Also, unless I'm mistaken, Greg has a more than a passing interest in—”

All three froze as a frantic knock reverberated through the tiny room. Since it was his office, Orloff stepped to the door and opened it. His nurse stood on the other side, her apron already stained with the first blood of the day. So were the sleeves covering her frantically waving arms.

“Doktor Orloff, Doktor Coleman. Come, come!”

Orloff tore out of the office before the woman could finish. Alex shoved him out after them. “Go. I'll make the call. Find out if they're one and the same. If so, I'll have them create an emergency that'll get Greg out of harm's way until we can figure if he's my replacement—and why.”

 

“…man.”

Alex paused in the middle of shaking out the thermal blanket and glanced down at the man sitting beside his slumbering wife. The same man Jared had been lying beside earlier this morning as he'd pumped two units of packed red blood cells into his arm. Abel Braun and his devoted wife, Elsa. She knew because she'd stopped to chat with him earlier this afternoon after she'd caught him staring at her. The old man was on a deathwatch and desperate for distraction.

She offered it once again, along with another smile.

“I'm sorry. I'm afraid I wasn't paying attention.”

The old man's eyes twinkled, clearing the rheumy blue for a moment. “I said your husband is a good man. But I think you know this, since you have been thinking of him all day.”

She flushed.

Damned if Abel Braun wasn't right. She had been standing here daydreaming about Jared, trying to figure out what
the heck was going on with him. Because after that conversation or, rather, lack of conversation she'd had with her uncle regarding Jared earlier this morning, she was convinced something was wrong. Alex finished shaking out the thermal blanket and settled it over Abel's wife, leaving the old man to tuck it in around her as she headed across the triage bay for the tiny cup of pills Orloff's assistant had prescribed.

She could still hear the shock in her uncle's voice as she finished her business query regarding Greg Krazner, then launched one last rushed question before she lost her nerve. She couldn't believe she'd done it. She'd actually grilled Sam about an ARIES agent's personal life. About her partner's personal life.

She'd asked about Janice.

While she'd been tempted to abuse her relationship with Sam once or twice through the years, she'd never actually done it. Until today. But that wasn't the worst of it. The worst part was Sam had refused to answer. Why? It wasn't as if her uncle hadn't let a personal comment or two slip over the years. He had. She'd just made a point to let them go. She'd certainly never, ever picked up on one and used it to probe further. She hadn't had to probe this time, either. Sam's terse silence had said it all.

Janice must have worked for ARIES. Maybe still did.

Alex reached the nurses' desk at the far end of the over-burdened triage bay and requested the medicine cup for bed 20A. She thanked the nurse for the two pills and water in German and headed back down the center aisle. Ironically it was DeBruzkya who'd initially planted the idea. If Greg Krazner could have bumped into Orloff at Stanford, why couldn't Jared have met Janice through ARIES?

So she'd run her check on Greg
and
Janice.

Both names had popped. Greg had gone to Stanford and he was a geologist. Unfortunately there were two Janices.

Since Janice Errington was a scientist in her late fifties, as well as a recent transfer from another agency, she'd
placed her money on Janice Angeline Grey. Janice Angeline was a twenty-eight-year-old, petite, blond-haired, blue-eyed, very curvaceous translator who specialized in Eastern European languages. Alex knew, because she'd viewed the woman's electronic photograph. Alex frowned as she reached the end of the triage bay. No wonder the man's accent stunk.