by Dana Marton
“Be at the Easton train station in an hour. Have everything with you and ready.” The line went dead.
He had no intention of following those directions when he was this close to his children.
Lara was looking at the dead guy at his feet, her face the color of the white-gray sky above. The gun trembled in her hand. “What did they say?”
“Playing more of their games. Doesn’t matter.” She shouldn’t be here.
But, as if she could hear his thoughts, she pulled her shoulders straight. Her hands steadied. “I can handle this.”
“I couldn’t just tie him up and risk him making noise, or knocking him out and risk him coming out of it and somehow attacking us from behind.”
“You don’t have to explain. We’re here to do whatever it takes.” Her gaze hardened.
She had stood up to the test at every turn. Admiration for her indomitable spirit rose in him, even as he regretted that she had to be tested. He’d never given much thought to having children, hadn’t thought that would ever be an issue. But now that he had Zak and Nate, he couldn’t imagine a better mother to raise them. He was a lucky man in that regard, for sure.
Somehow he’d ended up with a fine family. And for a moment, he wished he could keep them. Then he shook off that selfish thought.
He grabbed the guy’s black baseball cap and shoved it onto his own head. Their jackets already matched for the most part—camouflage. Reid moved back toward the door. Lara followed closely behind, for as long as he let her, leaving her in the cover of the bushes.
He moved forward alone, bracing himself for anything, stepping into view, moving into the open doorway. He held one hand to his ear as if talking on a phone, keeping the other near his gun, presenting his back to the door, only turning his head a fraction to catch glimpses in his peripheral vision.
Hoses snaked on the floor around rows of drains. Giant meat hooks hung from the ceiling. Stainless steel processing stations stood in rows a little further in, stainless steel tubs in between them. Here and there in stacks of various sizes, what looked like emergency food rations were piled up in apple crates. Bags of flour, potatoes, bottled water and other supplies. Looked like the place was the cell’s pantry for a prolonged emergency.
Reid kept his head down and turned. Spotted a rickety crib by a space heater. A middle-aged woman sat next to it, smoking and reading a tabloid magazine. She wore a quilted jacket, her greasy hair pulled back in a ponytail, bangs teased up within an inch of their lives. He ran the pictures of all known female members of the cell through his mind, but didn’t come up with a match. Of course, the FBI’s list of the cell’s members was more than sketchy.
He made some noises as if agreeing to something over the phone. He couldn’t say anything or the four guys strategizing over a card table would know that the voice was wrong. They were in a shadowy corner, so he had to strain to see their faces. One looked familiar from the FBI files. None of them had been there at the bridge, as far as he could tell.
“Shut the damn door,” another, lying on a cot in the corner, yelled over.
He stepped back out, pretending to still be on the phone, and shut the door behind him.
“Zak and Nate?” Lara held her breath, her gaze begging when he returned to her.
“They looked unharmed.”
Her shoulders relaxed a fraction. “How many men?”
“Five guys. Plus a babysitter.”
“Now we call for backup?”
He shook his head. “No time for that. Sparks and his goons could come back at any time.”
“Cade?”
“Can’t afford to wait for him.”
“But the odds…” Worry was fixed in her eyes.
He knew she didn’t fear for herself. She was anguished about the babies. “These odds we can live with.” He squatted and drew the outline of the building in the snow. “I’ll shoot my way through the door and go in here.” He pointed at the door that was closest to the men where he’d last seen them. “That will surprise them. They’ll be confused for a second. When you hear the shots, count to five, then come through this door.” He pointed to the unlocked door behind him.
She nodded. “By the time they recover from the surprise, I’ll divide their attention.”
“Right.”
She could do this, he told himself as he pulled a syringe from his pocket, ripped the sterile packaging off, drew the drug from the vial the doctor had given him. He pulled down the waist of his pants a few inches, then shoved the needle in. The area began to go numb almost immediately. Better get moving so he would have full use of his window of opportunity.
He capped the needle and shoved it back in his pocket then grabbed his bag of weapons, although he knew most of them would be useless. He couldn’t lob hand grenades with those babies in there. “I’ll get the men. You take care of the babysitter.”
She was vibrating with nerves. “Any last-minute advice?”
“Keep count of your bullets.”
SHE KEPT ONE EYE on the door, the other on the road, hoping Jimmy wouldn’t come back. Then shots sounded from the other end of the building. She walked from her cover to the door. “One. Two. Three. Four. Five.” Opened door. Screamed, “Police!”
She had no idea why she’d said that. They hadn’t talked about it. Her nerves were shot, her mind following some blueprint of attack she’d only seen on TV. One man was on the ground, another shooting at Reid with one hand, clutching his knee with the other. Her mind registered all this in a split second, along with the crib. Then she remembered the plan and dove for cover, avoiding, at the last second, the bullets that flew her way.
They pelted the stainless steel workstation, cut through, but none of them hit her—a miracle. When a few seconds passed without more of them coming, she peeked out. Another man was on the ground. Everyone had taken cover. Only the crib stood out there in the open.
Someone had knocked over an old box behind the crib, rusty tools lay scattered on the floor. She would have to watch out for those when she ran. She couldn’t afford to trip.
She could see Reid making a move behind cover to get to the back of the remaining men. She drew a deep breath and ran for the next workstation, then the next, each bringing her closer to her crying babies. Each time she was in the open, she shot indiscriminately, making sure she wouldn’t hit Reid or the crib, but to cause enough ruckus that the enemy stayed down and wouldn’t give her any trouble.
Her heart beat out of control. Sweat rolled down her face. Her knees were knocking. She ignored all that and kept her focus locked on the twins. They were standing in the crib, nothing but their fuzzy heads showing, bawling their eyes out. They’re not hurt, just scared. They’re not hurt, just scared.
A shout came from behind her. “Watch out.” Reid took aim at the man who was targeting her. But to do that, he had to pop up from cover. He shot the guy threatening her at the same time that the last remaining man shot Reid in the shoulder. The impact of the bullet knocked him over.
A woman came forward from somewhere with a cry and held her gun on Lara, moving toward her with grim determination.
No way. Not when she was this close. Lara lifted her own weapon and squeezed the trigger.
Nothing happened.
In the chaos and sheer insanity of the attack, she’d forgotten to count her bullets. She stood there, stunned and not knowing what to do next. By the mercy of God, the other woman seemed to be in no better shape.
Her hands were shaking, tears streaking down her face. One of the injured men must have meant something to her. She kept coming closer on unsteady legs, probably wanting to make sure she wouldn’t miss her target.
Behind Lara, Reid was busy with his own duel. She threw her gun as hard as she could at the woman, knocking the attacker’s weapon aside for a second. It was enough for Lara to lunge and take her down hard. A shot did get squeezed off as they rolled, both grunting, but it only hit the ceiling.
Zak and Nate were screami
ng, scared to death. The woman fought to bring her gun down and take aim. Lara rolled her again, one of the rusty tools digging painfully into her back. Then the woman rolled, too, slamming Lara’s head against the wall. She was stunned just enough for her grip to weaken. The woman pulled away, lifted the gun. But Lara’s fingers closed around a cleaver on the floor. The next second it was buried in the woman’s chest, a surprised look on her face as she folded without ever firing her weapon.
Reid took out his guy, too, at last, blood running down his arm. But she only had eyes for her babies. Lara was at the crib in two steps, grabbing up the twins, looking them over. “Mommy is here. Mommy is here.” She kissed every available inch of those two precious little boys. “Shh. We’re okay now. Everything’s okay. I missed you so much.”
Then Reid was beside her, bleeding worse from the left shoulder than she’d thought at first glance, looking like his left leg wasn’t completely supporting him.
He was checking them over, touching her, running his hands over the babies. “Are you okay? The kids?”
“How badly are you hurt?”
“I’m ready to put my feet up.” His lips were tight with pain. But when guns went off outside suddenly, he stepped in front of them and was ready to start fighting all over again.
The budding love Lara felt for him, the one she’d been trying to stifle, welled in her chest.
“Probably Sparks and his goons.” Reid stood strong and tall, ready to lay down his life for them. “Take the boys, go out the back door. And don’t stop running.”
Chapter Eleven
The door opened and more men entered. From the corner of his eyes, Reid saw that Lara was trapped. She squatted with the babies, using her own body as their cover. His muscles stiffened as he readied to fight for everything he held dear. But the shadow appearing in the door, coming in low with gun drawn, seemed familiar.
“If you tell me I’m late, I’m going to be ticked,” Cade called from the other end of the cavernous building as he straightened, taking in the bodies that littered the ground.
Reid backed up to a workstation and leaned against it, taking the weight off his bad hip. “What was that outside?”
Lara sat on the floor, her legs giving out at last. The babies quieted and snuggled tight to her chest, everything right in their little world as long as their mother was here.
He moved toward her as Cade said, “I pulled in and was about to come through the door when a black pickup came down the road and started shooting at me.”
“Did you get them?” Reid only had eyes for Lara and the boys.
“Bastards took off the second they realized I meant business.” Sirens about drowned out his last words.
“The FBI followed you after you dropped off Kenny and Billy?” Dismay shot through Reid. This was why he always worked alone. “Damn, man. This happens when you retire. You lose it,” he was only half joking.
Cade was examining his feet.
Suspicion had Reid doing a double take. “You let them follow you?”
Cade shuffled. “I figured, this was it, the endgame. I thought they might come in handy. Look man, I know how you get about asking for help, but it’s not a crime, all right? When you need it, you need it.”
For a second, Reid bristled. He didn’t need anyone or anything. On principle. But he didn’t have it in him to be angry for long. At this stage, whoever was coming couldn’t do too much damage. He glanced toward the back door. “I want to take Zak and Nate to get checked out.”
“Then you’d better go now. If you stay, they won’t let you leave for a while. I’ll stay and explain things.”
“You know you’ll catch hell for this, right?”
“Retirement was starting to get boring anyway.” Cade came closer and grinned at Lara. “Cute kids.”
She grinned back. “We got them back. We kicked terrorist butt, didn’t we?”
“You more than I,” Cade said sourly. And when Reid chuckled, the relief hitting him all at once, Cade punched him in the shoulder. The one that wasn’t bleeding. “Better get going.”
“Wait. What happened to the virus?” Lara was asking.
“The vials are in a safe place,” Cade told her. “The outfit we work for is set up to handle these kinds of things.”
Reid took one of the boys from Lara and they ran for the back. Reid figured they had just enough time to go around and get to the car he’d left in the bushes before his leg went completely numb. Lara would have to do the driving again. For the moment, he was too happy to resent that she had to help him out. She was right, whatever else happened next, the most important thing was that Zak and Nate were safe.
As he looked at the twins, looked at her, there was only one thought on his mind: his. A thought he couldn’t afford under any circumstances.
HE DIDN’T WANT TO SEEM presumptuous, but he wasn’t ready to leave her on her own either, so once they reached a hotel Reid compromised by getting one room but with two double beds.
“I should go back to the hospital,” Lara said as she came out of the bathroom. Their hotel was just down the road from where medical personnel were even now watching over their babies.
“Zak and Nate are fine. The doctor said they were only keeping them overnight for observation. You have to rest. You’re half-asleep on your feet.” Going home was out of the question. He could barely talk her into coming this far, less than five minutes away if they were needed.
She sank onto the bed, running a towel over her short hair. Another was wrapped around her body. “The dehydration—”
“Was fairly minor. And they both got IVs.” Man, he hated to see those kids hooked up to anything, even if they took it like the brave little troupers they were.
But she’d had trouble handing over the twins, even to the doctors. Then wouldn’t leave them until they were both asleep. She ran the towel over her hair one more time. “I hate that they have to go through this.”
“They’re fine.” Reid came over from the window—he’d been watching the hotel’s entrance, force of habit, although he didn’t expect trouble—and sat next to her. “I think Nate is starting to like me. We played ball.” He grinned.
He could tell them apart now. They might have looked a lot alike, but they had completely different personalities. Nate was take-charge, Zak was more easygoing. Reid had stopped by the gift store on his way up from the E.R.—he had gone there to have his arm treated—and pretty much bought it out as far as toys were concerned. He wanted to give them the world.
He’d felt fiercely protective of them from the moment he’d found out that they were his, but the love that had crept up on him with each second they’d spent together was on a whole other level.
“Here.” He pulled a pair of sweatpants and a sweatshirt from a bag at his feet, also from the gift shop. He’d already showered so he was wearing a matching set.
But Lara simply lay back on the bed, looking exhausted. “How are you?”
“Good as new.” The doctor had patched up his shoulder and given him some pain shots for both the shoulder and his hip that didn’t make him go numb, a definite advantage. He got up so he could pull the cover over her and let her get some rest.
“Stay. Please.”
He did, sitting on the edge of the bed.
“Tell me about your wife.”
Okay. That came out of left field. He cleared his throat as memories he’d long kept locked up flooded over him.
Lara didn’t know what she was asking. Leila had been the low point of his life. Those memories still gave him nightmares. He hadn’t forgiven himself for all that had happened. And had a feeling that if Lara knew the whole story, she wouldn’t forgive him either.
And yet, he was the father of Lara’s children. She had a right to know what kind of a man he was, even if it meant that she would hate him for the things he’d done in the past. He cleared his throat again.
“Some time ago, there was a warlord on the Afghan-Pakistani border the army was
having a lot of trouble with. We got the job. A few guys got sent into different areas. I was sent to a small village in the mountains. We had an old man there who was sick of the Taliban and the warlord who was their henchman. The old man was willing to work with us. I went in undercover as his American-born grandson, coming home from the U.S. to find my heritage and faith and all that.”
He drew a slow breath, remembering the day and the people clearly. “The village took me in readily enough. The warlord blew through every couple of months, taking food and recruiting. I was trying to get on his team, but he didn’t trust me.” He paused. “I had to get to his headquarters. We knew he was running training camps. I figured that if he wouldn’t take me as one of his men, he might take me as an enemy prisoner. I started to talk against him in the village.”
“Did they listen?”
He closed his eyes. “Not at first. These were people born and bred in fear. But after a while, yes. They started to look up to me and stand up for themselves. It was pretty slow progress. In the meantime, one day a man brought a young girl to me and offered her for a price. A bride price. It’s common.” He swallowed, still seeing the pale round face, how scared she’d been.
“And I knew if I said no, I’d offend the man, possibly the whole village, and all the progress we’d made would have been for nothing. If I said no, he would just take the girl to another man, maybe one of the warlord’s men when they came by next. The family needed the money. They couldn’t feed a girl who was already grown and should have been a husband’s concern.”
“How old was she?” Lara asked after a moment.
“Didn’t know. The poorest people, up in those mountains, they can’t read or write. They don’t keep close track. She was born in the winter after the earthquakes—that was all her mother told her, but they have earthquakes there pretty often. I figured her for eighteen. I was twenty-eight.”
“You married her.”
