Delta Force Die Hard

by Carol Ericson

  “You have all of that and money.” He kissed the corner of her mouth.

  “If you think I have all those qualities, then I must be in your league and you’re in mine.” She returned his kiss, and as his hand cupped the back of her head, she never felt safer.

  In an instant, those feelings of security evaporated as Joe’s body jerked and he whipped out his weapon.

  “Hold it right there. Don’t come any closer.”

  Hailey twisted her head over her shoulder, her mouth dropping open at the sight of a raggedly dressed man waving a crutch in front of him.

  “You don’t wanna shoot me, man. I just came here to get that hat.” He pointed to Marten’s black hat on the coffee table. “And return it to its owner.”

  Chapter Fourteen

  “Hey, you!” The patrol officer from the front of the house charged through the front door, his gun drawn. “Drop that crutch.”

  “If I drop the crutch, man, I won’t be able to stand.” The transient tapped his leg. “I got shot yesterday, saving this young lady’s life...and that tough-as-nails D-Boy’s, too, come to think of it.”

  Hailey blew out a breath and dabbled her fingers down Joe’s corded forearm. “It’s Trace from Mission Hope.”

  “You shouldn’t sneak up on people like that unless you have a death wish...man.” Joe pocketed his gun. “It’s all right, Officer. We know this guy.”

  The young cop wiped a bead of sweat from his brow. “Ms. Duvall?”

  “It’s okay. Everything he said is true. I was...attacked yesterday and Trace saved the day. You can leave us.”

  The officer holstered his gun and squared his shoulders. “Don’t do that again. When an officer tells you to stop, you stop.”

  “Yes, sir, Officer, sir.” Trace saluted and pushed back his hood.

  Hailey waited until the police officer walked through the gaping hole that used to be the front door and then took a few steps toward Trace with Joe hovering behind her. “Is your leg okay?”

  “Just a flesh wound.” Trace grinned. “I’ve had worse.”

  Joe cleared his throat. “You’re straight with the police over the shooting? They’re not filing any charges against you, are they? If so, we’ll be happy to speak on your behalf.”

  Hailey nudged Joe with her elbow. “You’re catching on. You could be Deputy Do-Gooder.”

  “Yeah, yeah. I’m good with the cops.” Trace held up his middle and index fingers together. “Like this now. I didn’t even shoot the guy. His finger was on the trigger, so he shot himself. I just directed the gun away from me.”

  “What brings you here?” Joe folded his arms over his chest, widening his stance. “How do you even know where Hailey lives?”

  Trace leveled a stubby finger at the hat. “Told ya. I’m here to pick up something for a friend. He told me about the house.”

  “Where is Marten? He’s alive?” Hailey dived for the black hat and skimmed her fingers across the rim.

  “Isn’t that what the note said?” Trace leaned on his crutch and fetched a cigarette from his other pocket.

  Joe lunged for Trace and snatched the cigarette from his hand. “No lighting up in here. Are you crazy?”

  “Some say I am.” Trace tapped his head. “But you know about that kinda crazy, don’t you, soldier?”

  “Are you getting any help for that?” Joe handed the cigarette back to Trace. “Not in the house.”

  “Here and there. Couple of shrinks volunteer at Mission Hope.” He pocketed the cigarette.

  “How do you know about that note? About Marten?” Hailey twirled Marten’s hat around her hand.

  “Crazy dude, that Marten. Talks kinda funny, too.”

  Joe asked, “Where’d you meet him?”

  “Met him on the rocks down by Fisherman’s Wharf. He was comin’ out of the bay like one of those escaped prisoners from Alcatraz.”

  Hailey shook her head. “No prisoners ever escaped from Alcatraz—and lived to tell about it.”

  “They never found that bunch, just their makeshift rafts.” Trace winked. “You never know.”

  “Back to Marten.” Joe tapped the toe of his boot.

  “Yeah, came out of the water, told me he was hiding from some people and just faked his own death. I told him the best way to be invisible in this city was to be homeless. Got him suited up and took him to the shelter with me for a meal.”

  “Did he say he was pushed from the ferry?” Hailey perched on the arm of a chair. “Do you want to sit down?”

  “Not staying that long.” Trace scratched his scruffy beard. “Dude said he jumped.”

  “I thought he was dead.”

  “I guess that’s what he wanted.”

  Joe glanced at her, his eyebrows peaked over his nose. “Nice of him to worry his friend. Is that when he got the locker, when he went to the shelter with you?”

  “Yep. Saw the locker and figured it suited him just fine.”

  “Wait a minute.” Joe held up his hands. “If he got that locker after he nose-dived off the ferry, how did he get that key to Joost?”

  “Joost must’ve been lying.”

  “Joost is the big blond guy—” Trace held his hand a few inches about his head “—talks funny like Marten?”

  “That’s him.” Hailey clenched her teeth.

  “Then Joost lied, ’cause Marten dropped off the locker key with him after making a copy for himself. Then I guess Marten lived longer than he expected, because he went back to the locker and replaced the letter he had in there with the note telling you he was alive.”

  “How in the world did Marten expect me to know what that key unlocked?”

  “Has ‘Mission Hope’ written right on it.” Trace cocked his head.

  “It was worn off.” Joe rubbed the back of his neck. “Did Marten tell you to keep an eye on the lockers?”

  “Yeah, and I did. I saw you two going in there and I would’ve been there sooner if I’d noticed that guy following you, but I kinda got caught up in the card game. I still saved you, didn’t I?”

  “You did.” Hailey flipped up the hat and put it on her own head. “Where is Marten now and what does he have planned next?”

  “I don’t know where he is. What he has planned next?” He tipped his head toward Hailey. “He wants his hat back.”

  Joe pushed off the sofa where he’d been leaning and jumped at Trace, causing him to drop his crutch. “You tell that selfish SOB to come forward now and admit the truth so Hailey doesn’t have to keep looking over her shoulder. You see all this? It’s all because of that crazy...dude, Marten.”

  Trace hopped backward, away from Joe. “I’ll tell him, I’ll tell him. Just don’t follow me, man. Don’t expect me to take you to him. He’ll disappear again. He warned me about you.”

  “Joe.” Hailey rose from the arm of the couch and rubbed his back. “Let Marten do it his way.”

  “While he plays games and puts your life in danger? Why should I?”

  “Because he might just disappear, like Trace said, and then we’ll have nothing.”

  Joe wagged his finger in Trace’s face. “Tell him to hurry up or he’s going to have another enemy after him.”

  “On it. I’m on it.” Trace’s gaze dropped to his crutch on the floor.

  Hailey dipped down and retrieved it, tucking it beneath his arm. Then she swept the hat from her head and handed it to Trace. “Anything else? Would you like to take some food with you?”

  “I could use a beer.”

  “Out.” Joe pointed at the doorway.

  Trace grinned and swung around, using his crutch as a pivot.

  “And, Trace?” Hailey called after him.

  “Yeah?”

  “Tell Marten I’m glad he’s alive.”

  When he hobbled out of the house, Hailey brushed
her bangs back from her face. “I am glad he’s alive, but I can’t believe he staged that whole ferry accident. He knew what I’d think.”

  “Maybe that was his way of protecting you. If he were dead, then there’s no way he could’ve told you what he knew about the setup of Denver.” Joe stroked his chin. “What do you think he has planned?”

  “I don’t know, but he’d better speak up soon or this danger will continue to hang over us both.”

  Hailey packed a bag, including her toiletries and her evening gown for the fund-raiser.

  * * *

  WHEN JOE SAW the long dress draped over her bag, he swore. “In all the excitement, I forgot to pick up my tux.”

  “All taken care of. I called Tony when you were at your hotel, and he’s having it delivered to the Pacific Rim. If you need him for a fitting, he’ll be happy to come over to the hotel.”

  “The fit of my tux is the last thing on my mind.” He pounded a fist against his chest. “As long as there’s room for my shoulder holster.”

  “That request must’ve driven Tony nuts. It will definitely ruin the drape of the suit.”

  “Do you want your bodyguard to keep you safe or look good in his tux?”

  She ran her hands across his chest. “Lucky me, I don’t have to make that choice.”

  They loaded their bags in the trunk of the Jag and drove to the hotel.

  As soon as Hailey checked in, her assistant, Gretchen Reynolds, appeared at her side. “I can’t believe you’re going through with this after what happened at the Pacific Heights house.”

  “Great to see you, too, Gretchen. This is Joe McVie. Joe, my assistant, Gretchen.”

  As they shook hands, Gretchen gave Joe the once-over. “He’d better be here to protect you.”

  “I am.” Joe leaned close to Gretchen. “And I’m not the only one here in that capacity.”

  Gretchen’s eyes bugged out. “Is the SFPD ramping up security because of what happened at the house?”

  “Yes.” Hailey patted Gretchen’s hand. “Don’t worry. Everything is under control, and you did a beautiful job. We’re going to raise lots of money.”

  When they got up to the suite, Hailey slid open the closet door. “Tux is here. Do you want to try it on?”

  “I’m sure it’s fine, Hailey.” Joe collapsed on the bed. “You wanna give me the lowdown on the festivities tonight?”

  “I’ll take you to the ballroom where it’s being held so you can look around.” She hung up her dress in the closet. “At seven o’clock cocktails and hors d’oeuvres. A few speeches—none by Nurse Ayala Khan—buffet dinner, and then dancing and more cocktails.”

  “That’s all you have planned, anyway, but what’s planned for you?”

  “Whatever it is, I’m sure you and the SFPD and maybe even Agent Porter will take care of it. Ayala has been outed.”

  “She’s just the face we know. What about all the other faces we don’t know? I’m sure there are others like her—outwardly dedicated to one cause and secretly supporting another.”

  “Whatever’s gonna happen is gonna happen.”

  “Those forces of evil?”

  She shrugged. A sense of calm had descended on her after she’d left the hospital. Maybe it was knowing Joe McVie was on her side. “I forwarded the guest list to the FBI.”

  “Recently?”

  “Today.”

  “Hate to break it to you, but they don’t work that fast. Don’t tell Agent Porter I said that.”

  “My lips are sealed.” She drew a finger over the seam of her lips. “Do you want me to give you a tour of the ballroom now?”

  “Dinner at eight?” Joe rubbed his stomach. “I’m starving. Let’s eat first and then I’ll check it out.”

  “There are a couple of great restaurants in this hotel.” Hailey reached for her purse.

  “Room service.” Joe bounded up from the bed and slid the embossed leather folder on the desk toward him. “We’re eating in. The less exposure you have, the better. The danger is not over, Hailey, just because Ayala’s on the run.”

  “I know that. It’s coming. I feel it coming—but now I’m ready.”

  * * *

  THE REST OF the afternoon passed with both of them working on their laptops. As day shifted into night, Joe stretched and rubbed his eyes.

  Hailey looked up from her screen. “Are you in trouble?”

  “What?” Folding his hands behind his head, Joe kicked his feet onto the desk next to his laptop.

  “You’ve been awfully busy over there, typing away. Are you writing out your defense?” Hailey stretched out her legs on the bed and wiggled her bare toes.

  “Answering some emails and, yeah, explaining myself.”

  “I repeat. Are you in trouble?”

  “No.” He spun his cell phone around to face him. “But we will be if we don’t start getting ready for this damn gala.”

  “We have over an hour. I don’t know about you, pretty boy, but I don’t need that long to get ready.”

  Joe swung his legs off the desk and stalked toward the bed. “I do, when I plan to shower with my protectee and ravish her in the process.”

  Hailey shoved her computer off her lap. “Then what are we waiting for?”

  Just about an hour later, completely sated and clean in the bargain, Joe faced the mirror in his monkey suit.

  Hailey came up behind him, her shimmery silver dress floating around her legs. She reached around him and straightened his bow tie. “You look very handsome.”

  “You look—” he flicked the skirt of her dress “—stunning.”

  She kissed the side of his neck and then twirled away to snag his jacket from the back of a chair. “I’ll help you into your jacket.”

  “First things first.” He slid open the closet door and retrieved his shoulder holster. “You can help me into this before the jacket.”

  She sighed. “Poor Tony.”

  “It’ll be fine.”

  After he strapped on his holster and secured his weapon, Hailey held out his jacket for him. He slipped into the jacket, and Hailey patted his chest.

  “More than fine, Red. You’re going to have to stick by me when we walk in, because I don’t have a ticket for you. Gretchen sent one over and I thought I printed it out at the house, but with the sniper fire and bomb blast, who knows what happened to it?”

  “I plan to stick very close to you.”

  As soon as they left the safety of the room, all of Joe’s senses went on high alert. If someone wanted to take out Hailey or make some kind of statement about the war, this gala provided the perfect venue.

  Damn that de Becker. What was he waiting for? The longer he kept quiet, the longer Hailey faced danger.

  The guards at the door of the ballroom patted him down after Hailey told them he was with her and was providing personal security, so they skimmed over his weapon.

  Joe blinked at the dazzling decor of the ballroom. This place couldn’t be farther from that Syrian refugee camp. Maybe after the keynote address, all the wealth and comfort were supposed to make the guests feel guilty.

  Hailey understood that.

  Joe declined the champagne floating around on waiters’ trays, but Hailey grabbed a glass of the bubbly and downed half of it before coming up for air.

  “Is that a good idea?” Joe raised one eyebrow.

  “You’re the only one who has to stay sober, Red.”

  The guests began to filter in through the doors after being checked out by security, and the level of noise in the ballroom increased minute by minute.

  Joe nodded toward Agent Porter, his football-player frame dressed to the nines. He was here as a guest, too, but he had his eyes wide-open.

  Putting him firmly in the guest column, Hailey introduced Joe to her foundation’s board members and acqua
intances as a...friend. If the friend designation allowed him to continue doing all those things to her body that he’d just done in the hotel suite, he’d take it.

  The dais at one end of the room sported a podium, long tables on either side and a screen behind it. Would images of the devastation in Syria be projected on that screen, or would that be going too far for this crowd?

  A small commotion stirred around the side door to the right of the dais as two security guards ushered in a tall, lean man and two women.

  Hailey followed his gaze and said, “That’s Dr. Nabil Karam-Thomas and Dr. Lynne Roberson. The other woman is Dr. Roberson’s date, I believe.”

  “Dr. Karam-Thomas, the keynote speaker.”

  “That’s right. He’s done a lot to recruit volunteers in the medical field.”

  “Thomas?”

  “English father, Syrian mother, I believe.” Hailey deposited her champagne flute on a passing tray. “They’re coming this way.”

  As the small group approached, Hailey sailed forward, extending her hands. “I’m so happy you could make it tonight, and everyone is looking forward to your speech, Dr. Karam-Thomas.”

  “So good to see you again, Hailey, and please, call me Nabil.”

  “Dr. Roberson, welcome.” Hailey took the woman’s hand. “This is Joe McVie. Joe, Dr. Roberson and...”

  Dr. Roberson gave Joe’s hand a firm shake. “This is Valerie Guida.”

  After shaking hands with both of the women, Joe made a half turn toward Dr. Karam-Thomas.

  “Nice to meet you, Valerie.” Hailey turned toward Dr. Karam-Thomas. “Dr.—Nabil, this is Joe McVie. Joe, Dr. Nabil Karam-Thomas.”

  As Joe shook hands with the doctor, Karam-Thomas tightened his grip, his ring squeezing against Joe’s knuckle. When they released, Joe glanced at the large gold band on the doctor’s right hand. It looked like a wedding band that belonged on his left hand.

  Joe glanced at Karam-Thomas’s left hand and cocked his head. The ring on the doctor’s third finger boasted a red stone, unusual for its dark color. Where had he seen a stone like that recently?

  He slid a gaze at Hailey’s hands, expressively gesturing as she spoke to the doctors, her long fingers adorned with three diamond rings. The lady obviously preferred diamonds to rubies, or whatever that stone was.