by Mallory Kane
“So what’s your big plan?”
“Shoot the specialist—wound him—just enough to put him in the hospital for a day or two. That buys us another couple of days. If one of her employees is in the hospital, she’ll be there every day.”
“That’s your big plan? There are holes big enough to drive a semitrailer through.”
“Yeah? You have a better idea?”
The voice on the other end of the line was silent for a few seconds. “You think I’ve got sharpshooters sitting around waiting for something to do? Keep working on a way to get past security. That spread is huge. There’s got to be a few feet that are undefended.”
“What about Cunningham?”
The man on the phone cursed in Arabic. “He’s still swearing that Rook is dead. Even when he’s alone with his wife.”
“You think Cunningham doesn’t suspect that you have every corner of every room bugged? Stop fooling with them. Stop just threatening the wife. Do some real damage.”
A frustrated growl echoed through the phone. “I’m not sure Elliott has the stomach for that.”
He sympathized with the man on the phone. He understood family loyalty, too, all too well. But it was sounding more and more like Elliott was a coward.
“Maybe you should have somebody in there that does have the stomach.”
Sudden silence crackled across the miles. He sat there, watching his hand shake. Had he gone too far? He’d just given one of the most dangerous men on the planet a surefire plan to assassinate him—or one of his teammates.
“You just deliver Irina Castle to me. I’ll take care of Cunningham.”
“Don’t make the mistake of underestimating him. Whatever else he is, I can guarantee you he’s not stupid.”
“WHAT ARE WE GOING TO DO, Deke?” Mindy whispered. “He’s coming back, and when he does, he’s going to cut—” she shuddered as nausea swelled inside her “—cut off—” She couldn’t say it. “I can’t let them do that. What can you tell them that will satisfy them?”
Deke took her hand and put his lips to her ear. “Listen to me, Mindy. I swear I’d rather die myself than scare you, but you’ve got to understand what’s going on here. There’s nothing I can say that they’ll be satisfied with. Nothing. Whatever I say, the end result is going to be the same.”
Mindy’s heart leapt into her throat. “End result?” she whispered brokenly. “What do you mean?”
He shook his head. “You know what I mean. Can you act like you’re sleepy? We can’t keep up this talking for their benefit. I’ve got something I need to do.”
Mindy sat up straight and spoke aloud. “I guess all this is catching up to me. I’m so tired, and I’m feeing some minor contractions.”
“Contractions?” Deke said. “You’re not going into labor, are you?”
“The drug is still working, but I do need to rest. Do you think it’s okay if I sit down in the chair and try to sleep a little?”
He nodded, then quirked his mouth. “Sure, hon,” he drawled. “You’ve got about forty minutes to nap until they come back to cut off my finger.”
Even though she knew he was talking for whoever was listening, the words still made her wince.
“Deke, I didn’t—”
“Drag the chair over here,” he said. “You won’t be able to sleep sitting straight up in that chair. At least over here you can lean against me.”
“That’s very nice of you,” she said stiffly. “I’ll do that. And just so you know, I really don’t want them to hurt you.”
“Hmph. Good to know. Thanks.”
She made a face at him and dragged the chair, slowly and loudly, over beside his desk chair, which was just opposite the door, and made a production of sitting down in it.
“Oh,” she sighed. “I am so tired. You’re sweet to let me lean on you.”
Once she was settled in the chair, Deke whispered, “Did they bring you in here through that foyer?”
She nodded.
“So this room is the third door?”
“Yes, why?”
“I may have a way for us to escape.”
Mindy’s hand flew to her mouth. She couldn’t help it. She’d tried hard not to think about their fate, but when she heard Deke’s words, she realized that a large part of her had actually believed that they wouldn’t live through this.
He put his hand on top of hers and shook his head. “Not foolproof. It’s extremely dangerous. We could die.”
And there it was. The one thing she’d counted on was Deke’s strength and confidence. But if he thought they could die—
She felt the blood drain from her face, felt a hideous chill run down her spine. “Okay,” she whispered.
“I’ll do everything I can to make sure you’re safe.”
“We’re safe.”
He nodded, but he didn’t look at her.
“So what do I need to do?”
“Go into labor.”
A short, sharp laugh escaped her lips.
He held up a warning hand. “Mindy, you okay?” he said aloud.
“Oh,” she responded. “What? I was asleep.”
“You were dreaming. Go back to sleep.”
“Go into labor?” she mouthed. Had she heard him right? He was whispering so softly she couldn’t be sure.
He nodded. “I need a distraction so I can get the drop on them when they come into the room.”
“Deke, you’re injured and weak as a kitten. I doubt you could get the drop on a mouse.”
His turn to make a face. “Well, I’m your only hope.”
“Tell me what your plan is.” She waited while he scrutinized her.
“I’m going to blow up the tunnel.”
This time she clamped both hands over her mouth and stared at him over her fingers.
He put his hand over hers and held it there. “Dynamite,” he mouthed.
She started to speak, but he shook his head. “Don’t even ask. Just do what I say.”
“But if you blow it up—” Her brain was filled with visions of smoke and rocks and dirt and body parts.
“And don’t tell me you can’t run. When I say run, you run. Your job is to save your—our—Sprout there.”
Her hands flew to her tummy.
“They’ll be in any minute.” He scooped up the cut ropes they’d used to bind her hands. “Sit. Put your hands in your lap.”
She did as he instructed, and within a few seconds he had the ropes arranged so she looked like she was still tied up.
Then he leaned back down and whispered in her ear. “There. That’ll fool them on first glance. Once I take them down, we’ll have about thirty seconds. Now, start faking labor.”
She turned her head until her mouth was next to his ear. As much as she wanted to lay her cheek against his, just for a second, she knew she had to stay strong. “What are you going to do?”
“Hide behind the door.”
“And do what? Slam it on them?”
Deke shook his head. “I’ve got the knife and a Taser. As soon as I take them down, you run out the south door into the foyer. I pried some boards off the trap door before they heard me and stopped me. Then get up the stairs and out. Remember what I said about my car?”
She nodded, feeling stunned. As far as she was concerned, he was telling her a fairy tale. There was no way she could climb through the trap door, run up the basement stairs and out to his car—not in her condition. But she’d try. She’d die trying, if that was her only chance.
As long as Deke didn’t give up, she wasn’t going to.
“Remember what I told you? If Irina’s men aren’t there yet, there’s a cell phone under the driver’s seat with the keys. Press Call for Irina’s number, then turn the car around and drive away from the house as fast as you can.”
“What about you?”
“I can take care of myself.” Deke turned and placed himself behind the door, so that when it swung open, he’d be in the perfect position to get the drop on
their attackers. He held the portable Taser in his weaker right hand and the knife in his left.
As she watched, he adjusted the dial on the Taser down and held it against his hand. He hit the switch. His fingers contracted.
He looked up with a small smile on his face. “It works.”
She gave him a thumbs-up.
He twisted the dial up to maximum, then paused and sighed. He raised his gaze. “Mindy—” His whisper carried across the distance between them. “Don’t—give up on me, okay?”
Her eyes filled with tears that spilled down her cheeks. “I never have. I never would,” she whispered.
“Okay, ready?” he asked.
“Should I talk out loud?”
He shrugged. “Whatever you think will convince them.”
Mindy started moaning, as if in her sleep.
Deke stood behind the door, balanced on the balls of his feet in attack mode. He watched Mindy in admiration. She scrunched her face up, as if in pain, and began blowing air out through her mouth. She was acting just like she had when she’d gone into premature labor down in the mine.
A chill slid down his spine. What if she really went into labor? He had no idea what a woman in labor could or couldn’t do, but he was pretty sure climbing stairs and running was way down on the list.
She groaned louder and started pushing air through her mouth in little bursts.
Deke waited. He wished he knew what time it was, and how long it would be before James burst in. He normally had a good sense of time, but there were too many factors working against him here.
He was weak and shaky from blood loss and infection, and for the first time in his life he was questioning his own judgment. He had no idea whether he could hold his own against James and his soldiers.
And then there was Mindy. He looked over at her. Her hair was tangled and stringy. Her eyes had deep shadows underneath them. The skin of her face was tight and drawn across her cheekbones. She was still the most beautiful thing he’d ever laid eyes on.
She was as brave as any soldier he’d fought alongside, but bravery alone didn’t win battles. He knew she would push to the ends of her endurance to save the baby she cradled within her, but he was desperately afraid that wouldn’t be enough. And he was terrified that he was asking too much of her.
He wasn’t sure if he could survive if something happened to her or to his son.
His son. He had a son to fight for. A piece of him. His own flesh and blood.
He straightened his back and tightened his fists around the Taser and the knife. He had one chance to prove himself worthy of being a father. He would win, or he’d go down fighting for his wife and child.
“Deke? I’m getting worried. My contractions are getting stronger.” She spoke aloud.
“Try to hang in there. Do you need to lie down?”
“I—may in a few—minutes,” she gasped.
“Hey! James!” he shouted at the ceiling. “My wife’s in labor. Help!”
He rocked up to the balls of his feet and readied himself. He knew James wouldn’t come in here alone, and he fully expected that he and whoever came with him would be armed.
Glancing over at Mindy as she simulated the sounds and actions of a woman in labor, he saw his fear reflected in her eyes. He quirked his mouth in a smile, hoping to reassure her.
She wasn’t fooled.
Then he heard footsteps outside the door. He caught her gaze and gestured toward the door with his head. “Here they are,” he mouthed. He tensed, ready to spring—not on the first man. That would be suicide. He had to wait for the second, and hope there were only two.
The door slammed open and he flattened himself against the wall so it wouldn’t hit him. Frank James walked in, followed by a soldier with a rifle cradled casually in his arms. The soldier had barely cleared the edge of the door by the time James realized that Deke wasn’t in the desk chair.
“What’s going on—?” he started.
The soldier reacted almost as fast. He raised the rifle.
As he did, Deke reached out and looped his left arm through the rifle’s sling and jerked as hard as he could. He jabbed the Taser into the soldier’s solar plexus and zapped him with a whopping dose of electric current.
The soldier shrieked and collapsed.
Deke jerked the rifle out of the soldier’s limp hands and, in a single sweeping motion, swung it in an arc, slamming the butt into James’s shoulder and knocking him aside.
He saw the flash of silver as James tumbled and immediately righted himself. He held a revolver.
“Get out, Mindy!” he yelled, as he lunged toward the gun. If James was still playing his game of Russian roulette, Deke might be able to overpower the fake cowboy before he could fire enough times to get to the live round. Or he might go down on the first pull of the trigger.
“Deke!” Mindy cried.
“Go, damn it.”
He couldn’t afford two seconds to turn his head and make sure she made it safely out the door. He got a good grip on the rifle and pushed the barrel into James’s chest.
“I’ll blow your heart right out of your chest, you sadistic bastard.”
James’s eyes widened in terror, but his shaky hand pulled the trigger on the revolver.
Even as Deke cringed, waiting for the hollow click of the hammer or the impact of the bullet, he bent down and Tasered James in the neck. As the hammer clicked impotently, James’s body arched then went limp.
Deke grabbed the revolver.
He whirled and headed toward the door. As he stepped over the soldier, the man reached out and grabbed his boot.
He almost stumbled, but recovered himself and kicked backward, dislodging the soldier’s hand.
Damn, with the dose of current he’d used, he’d have thought both of them would have been out of commission for several minutes at least.
The soldier tried to push himself up, but his arms collapsed. He screamed in a language Deke didn’t understand, but the meaning was clear.
He was calling for help. Any second now, his buddies would burst in.
Deke had to get out of there.
He zapped the soldier again, but from the sound and the soldier’s diminished reaction, he knew the Taser was almost out of juice. So he rammed the butt of the rifle into the man’s head. At this point Deke didn’t care whether any of them survived or not. They were terrorists. Enemies of the United States. And they’d tried to hurt Mindy.
Still carrying both the revolver and the automatic rifle, Deke rushed through the door.
He didn’t see Mindy anywhere. “Mindy!” he called.
Nothing. Dear God, he hoped she’d gotten out and up the stairs. “Min!” he yelled. “Run!”
He slammed the door into the foyer, wishing he had something to block it with. But there was no time for wishes.
He ran to the abandoned tunnel, carefully scooped up a double handful of blasting caps and slid them across the dirt floor to the foyer door. He ducked back into the tunnel as they clattered against the door. None of them went off from the impact.
Leaning back against the wall, he gulped in a huge breath, hoping it would clear his head. His arm burned, and he felt so sleepy. If he could just close his eyes for a couple of minutes…
No! Closing his eyes was giving up. Whatever strength he had left in him would go to making sure Mindy got to safety. He hadn’t told her, but he was afraid Frank’s men might have found his car, or that Irina might not have been able to zero in on his shoulder chip.
That car was her only chance. He needed her to trust that it was safe.
Digging in his pocket, he pulled out the disposable lighter and flicked it with his thumb. Spark but no flame.
Not now! He flicked it again, and again. Light, damn it! I did not use all the butane!
Finally a weak flame appeared. He paused. Had Mindy made it out of the building?
Please, God.
He waited a few more seconds—as long as he dared, before lightin
g the fuse, holding his breath with apprehension until it caught.
Then he rushed for the trapdoor.
Shouts and thundering footsteps filled his ears. He dove through the opening into the hotel’s basement and right into the path of two soldiers careering down the stairs.
One of them grabbed him by the collar, and the other pointed a combat rifle at him and shouted something in a foreign language.
Deke raised his hands. The soldier holding his collar kicked him behind the knees and he fell to the ground.
“Dynamite!” he yelled. “Back there.”
Whoever was in the foyer was banging on the door, trying to get through.
The soldier holding him yelled a warning at him and prodded his back with the rifle.
Deke didn’t have to know the language to understand what the guy was saying.
Shut up or die.
“Back there!” he shouted again. “Boom boom!” Wasn’t boom the same in every language?
The sound of splintering wood told him that the soldiers had broken through the door to the foyer. He held his breath, and squeezed his eyes shut, trying not to think about what all those blasting caps would do when stepped on.
Sure enough, explosions like the sounds of giant firecrackers filled the air, followed by screams and shouts and the smell of gunpowder and burned metal.
In the next second, the hand on his collar let go, and both soldiers hit the ground.
Deke used their surprise and fear to push himself forward, toward the stairs. The dynamite was going to blow soon. He had to get out. If one of the soldiers recovered his wits and shot him, then so be it.
At least he’d die believing that Mindy had made it to safety.
He hit the stairs running, but with every step he climbed, his legs got heavier and slower.
A soldier yelled, and Deke instinctively flattened himself against the stairs. A bullet took a huge chunk out of the step near his head. He knew the man’s next shot would be on target.
“Boom!” he yelled desperately. “Much more booms! Run!” Enveloped in a haze of drowsiness, he pulled together the last frayed threads of his strength and threw himself up the remaining steps.
