by Lara Adrian
On a curse, he wedged his wounded shoulder under Kyle’s arm and hefted him into a run across the room. Lisa was right on the other side, doing her best to hold her brother up as they made their way to the door.
Alec yanked it open, but held them back as he peered out to the corridor. Security lights flashed like strobes all along the L-shaped corridor. Over the blare of the alarms, men’s voices sounded from nearby, shouting orders to one another, getting closer by the second.
“We’re gonna need cover,” Duarte said. “Lay down some smoke and bullets. Lisa and I will get Talon out to the vehicle.”
Alec nodded. “Right behind you, brother.”
With his pistol held in one hand, he dug into his vest pocket and pulled out one of the backup items they’d brought from Zapata’s tackle box. He pulled the pin on the small smoke grenade and let it loose, tossing it toward the far end of the corridor. Another one followed, both erupting in a billowing shield of thick white plumes.
Kyle was finally moving on his own, but his steps were sluggish as Duarte ran for the receiving bay exit with Lisa and him. Behind them in the corridor, Alec fired off a spurt of gunfire into the smoke to hold back the approaching crowd of security personnel. It wouldn’t hold them for long. They’d bought themselves precious seconds at most.
Duarte grabbed Lisa’s hand as Kyle dropped behind. Even though he’d do his damnedest to save her brother, Duarte wasn’t about to let go of his woman. “Come on, baby. We’re almost there.”
Duarte swung a glance behind them as they neared the exit. Alec had just emerged from the smoke, his long legs carrying him swiftly toward the group. But Kyle wasn’t moving anymore. He’d stopped completely, watching Duarte sweep Lisa farther away from him, toward their escape.
Alec barked an order at him. “Move it, Talon! Those assholes are gonna be on us in two seconds.”
Kyle slowly shook his head. “I’m not going with you.”
Duarte had his hand on the opened exit door when he realized what was going on. Lisa realized it now, too.
Halfway to freedom outside, she pivoted to look back at her brother. Her voice cracked with panic. “Kyle, what are you doing? We have to get out of here!”
His regret-filled gaze found her through the drifting smoke and rising commotion in the corridor. “I’m sorry. I can’t go with you.” He looked to Duarte. “You always told me you’d look after her if I wasn’t there to do it.”
“And I will. No matter what.” It had been a battlefield promise to his brother-in-arms. Now it was an unbreakable vow to the woman Duarte intended to spend the rest of his life with, if she’d have him. “You don’t have to worry about her. She’s my life now. But you don’t have to do this. Come with us.”
Lisa let out a soft, despairing cry. “Kyle, please. Don’t do this. Come with us.”
His eyes were tender on his sister. “You be strong, baby sister. Be happy.” He wrenched his gaze away from her to look at Alec. “Give me your weapon, Stingray. I can hold them off long enough for you all to get away.”
“Jesus Christ,” Alec hissed. “It’s suicide and you know it.”
Kyle didn’t flinch. “I can’t change anything I’ve done. I can’t expect forgiveness. Let me do this. There isn’t much time.”
Alec cursed again and swung a questioning look on Duarte. Neither man was eager to give their friend permission to die.
But Kyle didn’t wait for it. He wrenched the pistol out of Alec’s hand. “Go. Get her out of here now!”
And as Alec ran to catch up with Duarte and Lisa, Kyle Becker walked to the exit behind them and jammed it closed. Then he turned and strode away, vanishing into the roiling clouds of obscuring white smoke.
~ ~ ~
Sounds of gunfire exploded the instant he walked away.
“Kyle, no! Come back!” Lisa knew there was no stopping her brother from doing what he felt he had to, but the anguish of watching him disappear from sight—from her life this final time—broke her heart wide open.
There had been no time to convince him to stay.
No time to mourn his loss now that he was gone.
She would never understand how he’d been seduced into betraying the program he’d sworn to serve and the people who served along with him. But that had been a choice he’d admittedly made freely.
As was the price he chose to pay today.
“Come on, sweetheart. We have to go.” John’s voice was soothing in the midst of her grief. Calming in the midst of the chaos that still surrounded them.
And as they ran through the darkness and climbed back into the waiting vehicle, his arm around her was warm and strong.
John’s love was a comforting shelter as Alec sped them all away from the building...
Away from the carnage inside.
18
As the sun began to rise a few hours later, Duarte walked out onto the oceanfront patio of Diego Zapata’s heavily secured Miami mansion. Lisa was there, looking out at the horizon.
She’d been at his side most of the night since their arrival at the estate and through his gunshot wound treatment by Zapata’s personal physician, who’d been summoned for a discreet house call long after midnight.
Lisa had stayed with Duarte the whole time, but she’d been quiet, reflective. Mourning her brother in private. Almost in shame. He’d wanted to give her all the time and space she wanted to process Kyle’s death, but the need to be near her was more than he could bear. Especially after all they’d endured—and narrowly survived—tonight.
He walked up without speaking, his footsteps the only sound as he crossed the stone tiles to where she stood. She knew he was there, neither of them needing words right now. Duarte placed a kiss in the curve of her neck and shoulder.
He held her in front of him for a long while, both of them watching the sun come up. Listening to the waves breaking against the shore. Finally, Lisa let out a soft sigh.
“Do you think you’ll ever be able to forgive him?”
He couldn’t give her anything less than honesty. She’d always have that with him now. “I don’t know if I can. His betrayal cut deep. Cost lives. The damage he’s done to Phoenix by helping our enemies could be irreversible.”
“I know,” she murmured quietly. “I’m sorry, John. For what he did. For the fact that I didn’t want to believe you and Alec that Kyle might be capable. I’m... sorry.”
He kissed her soft skin again, breathing in her sweetness. “What your brother did tonight to help us get away, that was the old Kyle. The one I knew. That was the friend I could always count on. The one I miss already.”
She turned in his loose embrace. A fat tear slid down her cheek. He swept it away on the rough pad of his thumb, then leaned down to press his lips to her forehead. “I’m sorry for what you’re going through. I never wanted you to get hurt. Christ, I hate like hell that you’re hurting like this now.”
“I hurt because I loved him.” Her breath caught as she spoke. “I hurt because I always will love him, despite what he’s done.”
“I know, babe.” Duarte stroked her lovely face, his heart squeezing tight at her capacity to feel, to forgive. To love so unconditionally. He could only hope she might feel that way for him one day. He’d devote his life to proving himself worthy of her love.
“Do you hate him, John?”
He frowned, shook his head. “I can’t hate him. Because for all his betrayals, he also brought you back to me.” He brushed his lips over hers in a reverent kiss. “Stay with me this time, Lisa. It won’t be white picket fences and fairy tales, but I love you. Wherever I am, I want you in my life. Forever, if you can stand it.”
She smiled. “There’s nowhere else I want to be. There never was.” She kissed him now, long and slow and deep. “I love you, John Duarte.”
He growled, pleasure and relief pouring over him. “Christ, I like the sound of that. I want to hear you say that every day for as long as I live.”
She laughed softly, but her eyes
were full of emotion. “I love you.”
They were still kissing when Alec cleared his throat behind them. “Are you two going to be making out every time you’re within a yard of each other?”
Duarte grunted, smiling against Lisa’s mouth. “Get used to it or get lost.”
Lisa put her fingers to her wet lips and glanced in Alec’s direction. “Everything all right, Alec? How are you doing?”
“I’m cool,” he said, ever the nonchalant one. “I just spoke with Mr. Zapata. We can stay here at the mansion as long as we need to. Obviously the safe house isn’t the best choice, and anyway, it’s in bad need of housekeeping.”
Alec strode over and glanced out at the early morning for a moment. “You know, that was straight up heroic, what Kyle did last night. I doubt we’d have made it out of there cleanly, if at all. He probably saved our lives.”
Lisa smiled sadly. “I only wish he’d had the chance to tell us more. I know he regretted what he’d done. He said he tried to get away. He didn’t want to help them anymore.”
“Too late for that,” Duarte said. “Whoever’s behind this isn’t playing games. They’ve got a plan and they’ll stop at nothing to achieve it.”
“I think Kyle knew that, too.” She frowned, going pensive now. “He said something strange to me... that he left something important with me.”
“What do you mean?”
“Some kind of backup plan, he said. He left it with me the last time he came to see me.”
“On your birthday,” Duarte recalled.
“Yes. When he gave me this bracelet.” She held up her wrist and the quirky gecko bracelet she’d been wearing since the night she arrived at his cabin. “Kyle said it was his way out if he needed it. He said we should give my bracelet to someone named Fox and he’d know what to do with it.”
The name gave Duarte more than a moment’s pause. Alec, too. “You sure he said Fox, babe?”
She nodded. “Does it mean something to you?”
Alec ran a hand over his close-cropped, dark blond hair. “It’s a Phoenix operative codename. I’ve never met him, but I’ve heard he’s some kind of computer genius.”
“Got any idea where to look for someone like that?” Duarte asked.
Alec raised a brow. “I can think of a few places to start.”
Duarte still wasn’t sure they could trust Talon, but at the moment, they didn’t have many better alternatives. “Assuming we can locate Fox, that still doesn’t tell us what he would want with the bracelet. Did he say anything else about it, Lisa?”
“No. Maybe he would have, but then the alarms started going off and then... then he was gone.”
“Can I see it?” Alec asked.
“Sure.”
She took it off and handed it to him. He inspected it for a long moment, turning it this way and that, his shrewd gaze scouring the silver chain and lizard emblem. “That’s odd,” he murmured. Then he chuckled low under his breath. “God damn Talon. That crafty son of a bitch.”
“What is it?” Duarte and Lisa asked in unison.
“I think I’ve found what will be of interest to Fox.” Alec looked up at them. “What we still need to know is, why?”
The trio exchanged glances. Then Lisa raised a slender, but determined brow. “So, what are we waiting for? Let’s go find out.”
~ ~ ~
SEEK
TINA FOLSOM
Copyright 2015 Tina Folsom
Book Description
Nicholas “Fox” Young, brilliant computer programmer and ex-Phoenix Program operative in hiding, is close to his goal of accessing information, which could bring him one step closer to finding his fellow Phoenix and shedding light on the recurring nightmarish premonition that haunts his dreams. But the online cat-and-mouse game he’s been playing with ex-hacker and now CIA-contractor, Michelle Andrews, gets elevated to a new level when circumstances thrust them together.
Suddenly, passion ignites the blood of the cool computer genius, and he has to balance the risk of letting the fiery woman close enough to catch him with the need of feeling her shudder in his arms. But no matter his decision, they might already be doomed, because Nick’s real enemies are lurking in the shadows.
1
“Gotcha!”
Nick Young pumped his fist in the air and let out a triumphant growl while continuing to stare into the computer screen. A red dot was blinking on a map of Washington, D.C. Next to it, an IP address flashed.
“You bastard! Did you really think you could outwit me? Looks like I’m smarter than you after all.”
Because the guy had made a tiny mistake, whether out of stupidity or laziness, Nick didn’t know, nor did he care. What counted was that now Nick knew where to find him.
He felt a genuine smile curve his lips, the first in a long time. For over a month now, he’d been playing cat-and-mouse with an online adversary who was trying to keep him out of the servers that held crucial data Nick had been looking for ever since the secret CIA program he’d been part of had been compromised three years earlier.
Nick memorized the address the dot was pointing to and logged off. He flipped the lid of his laptop shut and stashed it in his backpack. Then he pulled an old keyboard out of the drawer, hooked it up to the dinosaur PC that he kept as a decoy and connected a mouse to it.
Should anybody find him and try to trace what he’d been doing, the files he’d planted on the hard drive of the old desktop he’d bought second-hand would lead any pursuer on a wild goose chase. With a little luck, nobody would be looking for a second computer, and he’d be long gone before they were on his tail and could kill him like they’d killed Henry Sheppard, his mentor and the leader of the Phoenix program.
The same fate was waiting for him and his fellow operatives—CIA agents selected not for their physical abilities but their unique mental skills. Each of the Phoenix, including Henry Sheppard, possessed the gift of premonition. Three years ago, somebody had decided that the Phoenix presented a danger and killed the leader of the program.
When Nick had received Sheppard’s mental call, his world had collapsed.
“Phoenix down.”
He could still hear the alert echo in his mind. He’d left everything behind and gone into hiding. But the need to know what had happened to Sheppard and the other agents had driven him back to Washington D.C. Back into the lion’s den.
“Keep your friends close and your enemies closer,” Nick murmured to himself now. It had become his mantra since Sheppard’s death.
It had been easy to create a new identity. His skills as a hacker had proven to be invaluable. His new identity was ordinary. No family, no special skills, a low profile all around. He kept himself afloat by creating websites for small businesses around the world.
He lived in an apartment in a run-down house the absentee landlord was renting to him for cash so he wouldn’t have to tax the proceeds. Every month, Nick deposited the money in a mailbox. Fine with him. He wasn’t exactly keen on the government right now.
He’d served his country as a CIA agent for many years, and they’d failed to protect him and his colleagues. He was on his own now, responsible for his own life, and out for revenge. One day, he’d make sure the men who’d killed Sheppard would pay for what they’d done.
And the person at the other end of the IP address he’d traced would help him find the responsible party. Whether he wanted to or not.
Nick knew of many ways to persuade another person to do whatever he wanted him to do. His favorite toy to elicit such cooperation was his Glock. The cold metal never failed to convince the other party that loyalty was overrated and life was a fleeting thing.
At first sight, people always assumed that Nick was merely a computer geek and not to be feared. Maybe his boy-next-door looks and his quiet demeanor were responsible for that misperception. But those people who cared to give him a more thorough look would discover what he really was: a man who knew how to handle himself and the weapons at his dispos
al. Sheppard had made sure of that. All the men he’d selected for his Phoenix program had to undergo rigorous training at The Farm, just like all other CIA agents, though it wasn’t necessary for their ultimate work. But maybe Sheppard had known all along that one day his protégés would have to rely on those very skills to survive.
Nick inspected his gun, pulled the magazine from it, and made sure it was fully loaded, before inserting it back into its chamber. Then he stashed it in the secret, padded compartment in his backpack. Lifting his foot onto the chair, he pulled up one pant leg and slid a knife into the hidden pocket in his boot. Sometimes a little knife was all he needed to come to an agreement with an adversary. It was less conspicuous than a gun, and much less noisy should he need to use it.
There wasn’t much else to do. Nick let his gaze wander around the room. The shredder bin was empty. The little mail he received was solicitations addressed to current resident. Any mail related to his website business went to a P.O. box, anything related to any bank accounts he received in electronic form. Only the utility bills came to the house, and those he paid promptly and then shredded. For all intents and purposes, Nick Young didn’t exist. But Fox was still alive. It had been his codename while in the Phoenix program. And the few other Phoenix members he’d met—since Sheppard had always insisted on keeping them apart as much as possible—only knew him by that name.
He’d been proud when his mentor had given him the name. It showed that Sheppard understood him. Because Nick was like a fox, cunning and clever. And he would need these skills now to ferret out the computer genius who’d been fighting him online. Now Fox would bring the fight to his doorstep and up the stakes.
Showtime.
