The Maze (ATCOM) (5 page)

Angry
with him for being everything she couldn’t have and with herself for wanting
it, she glared and whispered, “You bastard,” then she stalked past him toward
the cave.

* * * *

He
was
a bastard.

Noah
rubbed a hand over his face. What had he been thinking? He knew exactly what
he’d been thinking and with which head. His ironclad control had flown right
out the window the instant he tasted Attie, and he hadn’t given a damn. He
would have made love to her if she hadn’t stopped him. It was so out of
character for him that he stood there a full five minutes contemplating what
had just happened.

Hell.

Instead
of drawing her out he’d pushed her even farther away. He’d crossed the line and
no amount of mutual desire could change that. Good thing she was retired
because his behavior was inexcusable. She’d needed an outlet and he’d let it
get out of control. He wanted to rebuild her trust, not break it even more. His
actions sure as hell didn’t help his cause.

Regret
replaced desire. Why did Attie send his control out the window? He wanted to
call his brother, Camron, who would give him a good ass chewing. At the very
least Camron would tell Noah to find out just why this woman had him acting
irrationally, and to get his head on straight before they met up with Santiago.
Good advice. Maybe after the mission he’d take a short leave of absence and go
for a visit. It had been way too long.

Bending,
Noah picked up the lantern, snagged Attie’s coat off the branch and followed
more slowly toward the cave. Taking his time before going back in so she could
cool down, he used the time to let the rain rinse the mud off him. When he
entered the cave Attie was buried in her sleeping bag with her back to him. All
he could see was the top of her head. She lay very still, but he knew she
wasn’t sleeping. Tension radiated off her in waves.

Once
he’d turned out the lantern so that only hers lit the small cave, he quickly
changed out of his wet clothes. He didn’t attempt to start a conversation with
her. It would be a waste of time. Attie wasn’t in the mood to listen and he
wasn’t sure he could explain. The past lay between them as big as an ocean. She
blamed him for Seth’s death and her failing her mission by sending Seth in
unscheduled to check up on her. Which he had, but not for the reasons she
thought. He hadn’t sent Seth in because he doubted Attie’s abilities. He’d sent
Seth in because his conversations with Attie had put up warning flags. Not by
what she said in their calls, but what she hadn’t.

Damn,
this was more complicated than he’d thought. He’d had no idea she felt this way
and he didn’t know how to fix it. He always had a plan, always knew what his
next move was. He might be able to get rid of Santiago for her, but how could
he get rid of Attie’s nightmares? Convince her that his decision was based on
instinct, on her protection, not his lack of faith in her abilities?

Attie
held strong to her belief that she could have saved Seth. And nothing anyone
told her would change her mind or make her see reason. The ATCOM shrink Max
made them visit periodically to keep them on a good mental track said it was
part of Attie’s survival mechanism. Believing Seth was alive and she could save
him gave her a reason to fight. Knowing Attie like he did, he knew she’d do
whatever it took to get to her partner. She wasn’t a quitter and nothing short
of death would have stopped her. Unfortunately, the downside to that was now
Attie suffered survivor’s guilt. She’d tried and failed to save the life of a
fellow agent and it only exacerbated her PTSD.

Rubbing
a hand over his face, he picked up his sleeping bag and inched toward the
entryway. Silently, he moved to the mouth of the cave and laid it out so he
didn’t get wet all over again. When Attie’s temper cooled he would try and
recover the ground he’d lost. This needed to be settled before they met up with
Santiago. He wanted her focused, not angry and unreasonable.

Ah,
hell. He wished she didn’t even have to be here to do this.

Stretching
out on top of his bag, Noah stacked his hands under his head and stared into
the darkness. Attie wasn’t the only one too edgy to sleep. At the moment he was
better off focusing on Santiago.

The
bastard had to be stopped. Permanently. He never should have slipped through
their fingers. He’d proven resourceful and slipperier than a snake. He’d
slithered away into one of his holes after ATCOM destroyed his estate in South
America and he hadn’t surfaced until now. Which could only mean bad things.
He’d had time to plan what he had waiting for Attie.

Max
had agreed to let Noah be the one to go, not only because of his experience as
an agent, but for his skills as a Navy SEAL. His expertise as a sharpshooter
would prevent Santiago from hurting Attie again. He just hoped she could hold
it together long enough for him to do his job.

Noah
sighed. Attie wasn’t to blame for her behavior. Santiago was. If she hadn’t
been thrown into his underground prison and tortured for three days, she
wouldn’t be living with nightmares.

Damn.
He’d agonized over this for six months and it still didn’t ease the pain of
knowing he’d let his agents fall into the hands of a madman. One was dead and
the other retired because of it. Two good agents. Seth had been the best at
what he did, falling into the role of coffee bean broker easily. He had
possessed the ability to blend into a crowd and his easy manner had encouraged
people to trust and talk to him, making him an expert in undercover work.

Attie
had built a strong case against Santiago but the price she had to pay made it
null and void. Seth had paid with his life and Attie was still paying.

No
one knew what had gone on behind closed doors, so to speak, or what Attie had
to do to gather evidence, and she made sure no one knew now. Her reports had
only included the details of her mission and intel she gathered. Nothing
personal. Seeing her tonight made him want to know the personal stuff. More
than her imprisonment haunted her. The realization only made him want to rid
the world of Carlos Santiago even more. His trigger finger itched to have
Santiago in his sights. This particular nightmare needed to be put to rest so
Attie could put her past to rest.

A
strong wind blew through the opening of the cave, brushing the bare skin of his
arms. Noah welcomed the cold, letting it douse emotions that rarely traveled
close to the surface, but when it came to the mission gone wrong six months ago
he couldn’t help it. He was partly responsible for what had gone down and he
fully intended to make it right. He would take responsibility for sending Seth
in without communicating with Attie first. But, her calls had gotten so sparse
he couldn’t wait. Not when his gut was screaming at him to act.

He’d
done the right thing, dammit. And Attie was just going to have to accept that.

Chapter
5

Her
anger wouldn’t let her sleep.

Frustrated,
she flopped onto her back. She resisted touching a hand to her swollen lips.
Her body thrummed. No man had ever evoked this kind of response in her. Why
Noah? She hadn’t been interested in a relationship with any of her other fellow
agents. Not even Rogan St. Klare, a real live walking Adonis who turned heads
whenever he walked into a room. His buff, beach bum look had certainly turned
her head. To her he was a fellow agent. She’d managed to keep her relationships
strictly professional until Noah.

Oh,
who was she fooling? Most of the men she had worked with were good looking. And
not one of them made her heart pound like Noah did. She’d kept things
professional, but it was always there in the back of her mind. Tormenting her.

Attie
squeezed her eyes shut.

Not
one used to worrying about vanity, she found herself wondering what Noah would
think if he’d seen her naked. Dangerous thoughts she couldn’t stop. During her
imprisonment Carlos had tortured her and she bore the scars, mostly internal,
but a few remained outside, visible only to a lover. If she ever took a lover
he would ask about them and she was in no position to explain. The scars were a
part of her past she didn’t talk about.

Too
exhausted to think about this, she sighed. Tonight she had revealed more to
Noah than she’d intended, but once she’d started she hadn’t been able to stop.
She had been holding it inside for so long it refused to be silenced. And now
it stood between them like a stone wall. She had always believed honesty was
the best policy, but she hadn’t been ready to be forthright with Noah. Wasn’t
prepared for him to know the truth. The truth in this case had led to something
much more dangerous.

She
sighed again and rolled over to face the mouth of the cave. Noah had moved into
the entryway. He knew her well. Better than she cared to admit. If she didn’t
try and get some rest she’d be useless when they met up with Carlos tomorrow.
Willing herself to relax and forget the heated kiss they had shared, she let
herself drift.

And
prayed for tonight she’d only have one nightmare.

* * * *

Noah
came awake with the hairs on the back of his neck bristling. He laid perfectly
still, listening and looking out the mouth of the cave for signs of movement.
His thoughts jumped to Attie. Was she having another nightmare? Rain still fell
in a fine mist but the storm had passed.

He
didn’t hear anything from inside the cave, but his senses were on alert, a
feeling he never ignored. Something was out there. Noticing Attie had slept
with the light on, he moved stealthily down the cave to douse it.

His
hand was on the knob when Attie asked, “What is it?”

Noah
glanced down to find her watching him, wide awake, yet she still looked tired.
Did she ever truly sleep or did the nightmares keep her up every night?

He
turned out the light and heard her sharp, indrawn breath.

“What
the hell are you doing?” she hissed. She moved in the darkness, the zipper of
her sleeping bag going down.

“There’s
something out there.”

Her
movements stopped.

“Santiago?”

“Maybe.
Can you pack quickly?” He knew she could pack in the dark. They had been
trained to function in all elements against all odds. Often on a mission
circumstances were less than perfect and they were forced to improvise.

Silence.
Was she okay? She had maneuvered in the dark in the past and never seemed to
mind.

“I
have a small penlight, I’ll keep it hidden. You go find out what’s out there.”

She
sounded breathless, but an unmistakable warning in her voice prevented him from
pressing her. Lack of confidence didn’t prevent her from doing what he knew she
could; something else did. Attie had always had an abundance of confidence.
This hesitation he didn’t understand, but he let it go. Other matters needed
his attention.

“Move
fast,” he said before disappearing into the entryway to resume his position.
They needed to be prepared for anything. Santiago could be closer than they
thought. Noah had no proof Santiago would be waiting at the predestined
coordinates. They could walk into a trap at any minute and they needed to be
ready. Underestimating Santiago would be a lethal mistake.

Sig
in hand, Noah lowered himself onto his stomach and searched the early morning
light for signs of movement. The rain had stopped, but there was still an
uncomfortable chill in the air.

It
didn’t take him long to figure out what lingered in the shadows. By the time
Attie joined him, fully dressed and weapon in hand, he had counted four men
coming toward them through the trees. They didn’t try to conceal themselves and
were armed to the teeth.

Attie
saw them too, because she muttered something about
armed escort
as she
raised her gun and took aim.

“Put
your gun down, Attie, we both know who these men are.”

She
didn’t take her eyes off them. “That’s exactly the reason I’m not putting it
down,” she said. “Shouldn’t you be leaving? We don’t want Carlos to know you’re
here. The armed escort is for me now that he knows what I am—was.” Brendan’s
call had alerted them that Santiago had managed to find out who Attie worked
for—not an easy task with ATCOM’s security, but obviously not impossible. It
proved how connected he was.

Rogan
was working on the security breach, since he’d designed the security system
that kept ATCOM agents’ identities protected. No one wanted to believe a mole
was among them, didn’t even know where to start looking if it turned out to be
true. Becoming an agent was a long, grueling process. Not one stone in a
recruit’s life was left unturned. Any past transgressions would be uncovered.
No matter how classified it might be.

“I’m
not going anywhere. My guess, they already know I’m here.”

“You
think they’ve been following us?”

Noah
nodded. He couldn’t be sure, but he’d had the sense more than once over the
past day that they were being watched. In Santiago’s shoes, he’d want to know
where his enemy was at all times too. Fine. His job was to get inside, locate
Brendan, dispose of the enemy and get them to the rendezvous point for
extraction. On a more personal note, he wanted Santiago to know he would have
to go through him in order to get to Attie and it would be over his dead body
that it would happen.

Attie
scoffed. “Of course Carlos knows. He knew we were here the instant we were
inserted, I guarantee it. This tells us we’re close.”

“I
agree.” He glanced at her as the men drew closer.

She
met his gaze.

“You
ready for this?” he asked quietly. There was no going back now.

Attie’s
gaze didn’t waver, but her cat-eyes told all. She would do whatever it took,
but she was terrified. It punched Noah in the chest. He wanted to hide her from
Santiago. Protect her. Kiss her.

“I’m
ready.”

Four
men approached the mouth of the cave.

* * * *

“Atalanta
Devayne. You’re to come with us.”

Before
Attie could respond, they tore her Sig from her hand. Noah allowed his to be
confiscated.

“Out,”
the same man ordered, the tip of his AK47 pressed against her forehead, the
cold steel numbing her skin.

Attie
hesitated.

“Go,”
Noah whispered beside her.

Attie
crawled out of the cave and stood. A gun pressed to her temple as Noah climbed
out behind her. Their packs were taken off and rifled through, their weapons
commandeered.

The
leader of the group turned to Noah. “Your name?”

“Wade
Deason,” Noah answered, using an undercover persona he’d once used with her on
a mission in Azbakastan. If Santiago checked it out he would discover Wade
Deason was a legitimate weapons dealer with worldwide connections.

The
man narrowed his gaze and turned to Attie. “Is this true?”

“Yes.”

The
leader stepped back after sending her one last, promising look and issued
orders in Spanish to his cohorts. Within minutes Attie and Noah had their packs
back on and their hands bound. They were body searched for weapons and Attie
gritted her teeth as hands searched places she couldn’t possibly have a weapon.
To her relief they didn’t find the knife concealed in her boot, a little trick
Noah had taught her in the academy.

“Move,”
the leader ordered once the search was over.

At
gunpoint, they were herded up the mountain, the ground uneven beneath their
feet as they climbed. Attie stumbled, almost falling to her knees, but Noah
steadied her with bound hands to her elbow and kept her upright. She regained
her footing and continued on after being nudged in the shoulder by one of the
Uzis.

They
traveled through the day, the fog lifting, but without the sun to warm them.
The temperature remained cool as they climbed with slow progress, stopping only
briefly for a rest. No one spoke and the heavy blanket of silence quickly got
on her nerves.

Exhausted
and soaked to the skin, Attie pushed a strand of stiff hair off her cheek with
the back of her hands. Her feet were numb and her body ached from exertion.
They had been climbing steadily upward for hours and it was taking its toll.
The few breaks they had taken hadn’t been long and the water allowed didn’t go
far. She stared longingly at the canteen hanging around her captor’s neck,
causing her to miss a step and stumble into Noah’s shoulder. The tip of an Uzi
nudged her between the shoulders. She was
really
getting tired of being
pushed with that damn weapon. How satisfying to shove that Uzi up his—

Noah
bumped into her, knocking her off balance. She stumbled sideways a step before
righting herself, and glared at him. He sent her a look that warned her to play
it cool. The look she sent him was every bit as clear as his. She was nearing
the end of her patience. But something in his eyes calmed her frazzled nerves
and gave her the strength to go on without losing her temper.

Sighing,
she trudged on.

* * * *

Noah
knew Attie was close to snapping. Every time they pushed her along, her mouth
tightened into a thinner line and her shoulders grew stiffer. He could see the
exhaustion in the dark circles around her eyes and in her heavy step. It had
been a long time since she’d been in the field. She wasn’t conditioned. But she
didn’t complain or slow down, just kept plugging along and getting angrier the
more tired she got.

They
were at the mercy of Santiago. Everyone feared the unknown, and right now they
knew very little. He could see the strain in her movements and the tight line
of her mouth. Much more of this and she was going to lose her temper.

“Are
we even
remotely
close to wherever it is you’re taking us?” Attie asked,
her tone reflecting her mood.

She
received a forceful shove in response.

Out
of the corner of his eye Noah watched her jaw clench hard enough to break a
molar. He didn’t need her flying off the handle and causing trouble, but if
this guy didn’t stop pushing her she was going to and it wouldn’t be good for
any of them. Silently, he willed her to behave.

Of
course she didn’t.

“I’m
talking to you.” She addressed the leader walking just in front of them. He
ignored her as the Uzi shoved her forward.

Attie
spun around and drove the heel of her boot into the thug’s stomach before Noah
could stop her. The air left his lungs in a
whoosh
as he doubled over,
caught completely off guard by her attack. She bypassed the Uzi and brought her
bound hands down on his shoulder, her anger and frayed nerves driving the man
down hard. He fell to his knees as the leader spun around to see what was happening.
Two weapons pressed against Noah’s head to prevent his interference. He could
only stand there and watch as one of the thugs grabbed Attie from behind in a
bear hug, trapping her arms at her sides and lifting her feet off the ground.
He squeezed tight.

The
man she had attacked moved in front of her with a murderous expression. He
leaned in closer, his lips turned back in a sneer. “Not the docile one anymore,
are you?”

Attie
raised her chin in defiance. “I never was.”

The
blow to her jaw came hard and fast and knocked her out cold. Noah clenched his
jaw and forced himself to take his own advice and play it cool even though he
wanted to wrap his hands around the bastard’s throat.

The
thug holding her was still squeezing even though she was slumped in his arms
like a rag doll. The leader of the group stomped over to the one who rubbed his
knuckles and began yelling and waving his arms angrily.

Noah
turned his gaze to the man holding Attie. “Hey,” he said, “hurt her anymore and
you’ll answer to me.”

Anger
flashed in the other man’s eyes, followed by wariness. Although Noah spoke in a
nonchalant tone his underlying warning should not be taken lightly.