Tempt the Night

by Dixie Lee Brown

  Nick! Why was he here? Had he followed her? Ashamed of her instant distrust of the man, she shoved those thoughts away.

  “Hello, Mac. Are you goin’ for a ride?”

  “I’m looking for Marco. Have you seen him?”

  “No. Is he lost?”

  “I think he may be on his way to the Plateau.”

  “Oh, hell.” He removed his hand from hers. “We better get goin’ then. That walk won’t be pleasant in the dark.”

  Mac stared at him. Even though something about Nick didn’t ring quite true, he’d been hired by Joe. Surely that cautious and careful man didn’t have people working for him unless he was certain he could trust them. “Really? You’d go with me?”

  “Can’t let a pretty lady go by herself.” A teasing grin hovered on his lips as he settled his cowboy hat firmly on his head.

  Mac turned the key, and the Gator roared to life. She backed it out of the shed and set it on the same course Brady had followed earlier. They flew along in the cool of the evening, keeping a constant watch for Marco. When they’d driven as far as they could, there was still no sign of the boy. The sun was setting, and shadows lingered between the trees on the hillside. Marco could be anywhere up there, and they’d never see him.

  “It’ll be dark in thirty minutes.” Nick jerked open the compartment under the dash and rummaged through the contents. He found two flashlights, but the batteries in one were dead. “We’ll have to stay together if we can.”

  Mac swung her feet to the ground. Staying together was definitely okay with her. The whole idea of walking up that slope in the dark freaked her out.

  “You go ahead of me.” Nick handed her the flashlight. “Save the batteries as much as you can.”

  Mac nodded and started up the trail.

  “So, why’d the kid run off?” Nick fell in behind her.

  She hesitated. Nick knew most of the story. He’d saved their bacon in Alaska, thanks to the machine gun armaments on his helicopter. There was no reason not to tell him.

  “Hernandez called the house a little while ago, and Maria answered. He threatened Marco, being quite specific about what he would do to the boy. The phone was on speaker, and Marco overheard the conversation.” Poor kid. What must he think about a world that would treat a five-year-old like a pawn in a violent game?

  “Hell. That guy’s a real asswipe. Pardon my language, Mac, but damn, that gets my hackles up.” Nick continued to huff and swear under his breath.

  A smile tugged at her lips. Maybe she’d misjudged Nick. He seemed all right.

  They walked for another twenty minutes before they needed the flashlight to guide their footsteps. The minute she turned it on, the shadows closed in, coming right to the edge of the beam. The moonlight silhouetted the Plateau up ahead, and when Mac wasn’t watching the placement of her feet, she studied that flat expanse of rock.

  A sudden movement near the top caught her eye, and she stopped abruptly.

  Nick ran into her, sending her forward another step. “What did you see?”

  She pointed. “Up there. Toward the top. It looks like . . . something hanging over the side. There! Did you see it move?”

  Nick grabbed the flashlight and shone it off the trail at the hillside that separated them from the rock formation above. “We’ve found our little guy, but it looks like he’s in trouble. He must have tried to take a shortcut.” Nick used the beam of the light to indicate the overgrown slope beside them. “I’ll go up this side. You stay on the trail and meet us on top. We better hurry, Mac.” He took off at a jog.

  With dread churning in her stomach, Mac turned and ran along the trail. She tripped once and fell headlong, wincing as the sharp rocks cut her hands, but scrambled right back up and continued. The closer she got to the Plateau, the fewer trees there were and the more the moon illuminated her path. She scrambled the last few steep steps to the top and stopped to catch her breath. Then she started along the edge, looking for the spot Marco had gone over.

  She heard them before she saw anything. Nick’s voice droned on as though telling a story, and Marco . . . giggled. It was the most welcome sound she’d ever heard.

  Drawing near the edge, she peeked over. “What are you two doing down there?” Nick leaned against the rock wall behind him at an angle that made it appear as though he reclined in his favorite easy chair. Marco sat on Nick’s stomach, legs wrapped around his waist. Mac was so grateful for Nick’s presence, she could barely speak.

  Both of them glanced upward. “Just hangin’ out, waitin’ for you. Right, Marco?”

  “Sí.” Marco laughed.

  Mac chuckled. “Well, since you two are having so much fun, maybe I should go and come back later.”

  “No. We’re definitely ready to get out of here. As soon as I find a little better footing, I’ll lift him up to you. He weighs about forty pounds. Can you handle him?” Nick met her gaze, all seriousness now.

  She nodded. “I’ve got this.”

  He nodded, then turned back to Marco. “Ready? Hang on tight.”

  The boy clung to him like a monkey as Nick rolled to his feet, took a couple of steps to the right, and pivoted to face the cliff. Mac, lying on the flat stone, stretched as far as she could and grabbed Marco’s arms as Nick raised him higher.

  His weight surprised her, but determination kicked in, and she wasn’t about to give up when something so important hung in the balance. Inch by inch, she pulled him toward her until she got a better grip beneath his arms, rolled sideways, and hauled him over the edge to sprawl, full-length, on top of her. Relieved and grateful, she hugged him tightly until he started to squirm.

  Marco had tears in his eyes from laughing as Mac ran her hands over him in search of obvious injuries. He twitched and jerked through the procedure as though she’d tried to tickle him on purpose. His antics made her smile, and his childish giggles soothed her fears.

  That’s how Nick found them, stretched out on the ground, laughing their heads off for no apparent reason. Mac sat up, placing Marco on his feet. She looked Nick over, and he appeared no worse for wear, a happy grin confirming that they’d done well. He sat beside her, and Marco piled into his lap.

  “Good job, Marco.” He ruffled the boy’s hair. “Are you ready to go home now?”

  Mac sighed deeply and gazed toward the north where the mountain rose, a darker shadow against the moonlit sky. The perimeter fence was close. Brady had pointed it out to her that afternoon. Suddenly, her breathing stopped. Had she really just seen the end of a cigarette burning red as someone took a drag?

  “Nick? There’s someone watching us . . . to the north . . . on the slope.”

  Marco left Nick’s lap and stood next to Mac’s shoulder. Nick shifted around as well. “Are you sure? That would be tough to pull off with as much security equipment as Joe has around here.”

  She took comfort from his words. Maybe it was only her imagination. Except . . . there it was again, and this time, Nick saw it too.

  “Shit!” Nick pushed to his feet. “Get Marco out of here.”

  Who was it? What was a stranger doing on the perimeter of Joe’s compound? She should let him know, but she had no phone. Nick was right—it was time to go. As she stood, she heard men’s voices and rowdy laughter, and the sound sent a chill straight to her heart. How many were there?

  An alarm suddenly screamed, a warning from the compound to the south. Mac’s heart pounded out a wild rhythm as she jumped up and whirled around. Marco cinched his arms around her legs, and she stooped to pick him up. Then she crouched down, suddenly realizing she was visible in the moonlight to the men by the fence.

  This was not good. It was her and Nick against God only knew how many intruders. Nobody else knew where they were. She kicked herself for not letting Brady know where she was going—not that he’d be able to arrive in time to make a difference, especially with alarms going off at the house. He probably had his hands full. If she and Nick were going to get themselves and Marco out of thi
s, they needed a plan.

  She turned silently toward Nick, hoping to see the usual level of confidence in his eyes, then swiveled her head in the other direction.

  Nick had disappeared without a sound.

  Chapter Twenty-One

  SPRAWLED ON HIS bed, his uninjured hand wrapped tightly around a wooden slat in his headboard, Brady waged a silent war within himself. Mac’s decision to leave with Nick had brought the anger back with the power of a nuclear explosion. He’d committed the unpardonable sin, telling her he wouldn’t allow it. Fucking idiot! He’d made lots of mistakes in his life, but it seemed as though most of them had been just since he met her. She affected him like no one he’d ever met before. He needed her. She was air and sunshine. If she left, how the hell was he going to live without her?

  She hadn’t fooled him either, telling him to leave like it was no big deal. He’d seen the pain in her eyes before she turned her gaze away. He had to make sure she stayed here long enough to get over her anger and let him explain the real reason he didn’t want her to go. It wasn’t only lust for her that churned in his soul. If he was truthful with himself, it was way more than that. She calmed the ache in him. When he was with her, his rage subsided. She was an angel, her calm voice bringing him back from the dark place he’d inhabited for way too long. And part of him wanted to believe he could change for her.

  Suddenly the shriek of an alarm shattered the peaceful silence of the compound, followed by the sounds of booted feet running beneath Brady’s bedroom window. He leapt off the bed and reached the door in two strides, jerking it open. Carefully controlled voices, laced with adrenaline, carried up the stairs. What the hell?

  He started out the door, then stopped and went back for his shoulder holster and handgun. Since the day two weeks ago when forgetting his weapon had saved his best friend Alex’s life, he seldom went anywhere without his gun. Ironically, the event had triggered a failsafe within him, making it nearly impossible to prepare for a mission without thinking of Alex . . . and when he thought of her, he remembered his weapon. Today wouldn’t be a good day to fall back into old habits.

  When he reached the bottom floor, he saw Joe in the main hall with a small group of men clustered around him. Everyone’s eyes held the same question. A few seconds later, the alarm went silent, and Walker appeared from the study.

  Joe nodded in Brady’s direction as he joined the group. “The perimeter fence has been breached at the northernmost point, on the slope just beyond the Plateau. Looks like our ambassador friend has come calling.”

  “That’s a poor choice for a place to launch an attack.” Walker strode farther into the room. “We’ll stop him before he even gets close.”

  “What if it’s not an attack? What if it’s a diversion?” Brady looked back and forth between the two men. “Now that the alarm is off, odds are they’ll be cutting through the fence again any minute . . . somewhere a hell of a lot closer than the northern section.”

  Walker grinned. “I hope they do think the alarm system is out of commission. They won’t know Ty rerouted the signal to cut out the slope. We’ll still have coverage on most of the perimeter.”

  “What about additional manpower?” Brady’s gaze swept to Ty.

  “We’ll have a dozen guys here tomorrow morning, bright and early. That was the best I could do. Sorry, man.” Ty obviously felt like hell.

  “Getting any of those guys to move in under twenty-four hours takes an act of God. Don’t worry about it, Ty. We’ll have enough firepower.” Joe slapped Ty on the back. “Okay, gear up. Walker, Sanchez, Rayna . . . you’re with me. Logan . . . you’ll cover the house and keep an eye on Cara, Darcy, Irene, and Maria. Ty . . . you’re in charge of the rest. Roust the other team members and those students you think will be helpful, and get every set of eyes on the perimeter fence. Maintain radio silence unless the target is sighted. We’re dealing with diplomats here, so fire on my order only. Let’s move.” Joe stepped away and strapped on his holster while the majority of the team scattered.

  Brady didn’t miss the fact that Mac wasn’t on the list of people to keep an eye on, and dread instantly formed a brick the size of the Empire State Building in his gut. His gaze locked on Joe as the others hurried out to prepare for their assignments. The slight nod Joe gave him confirmed that Brady hadn’t been worried for nothing. Something was wrong. He waited until everyone but Joe, Walker, and Ty had cleared out before he stepped closer.

  “Where is she?” His hands fisted at his sides.

  “Presently unaccounted for . . . as is Nick Taylor. There was a little problem in the kitchen earlier. Marco overheard Hernandez issuing threats against him on the phone and ran out of here. Mac went after him about twenty minutes ago.” Joe donned a cargo vest and pushed two extra clips in one of the pockets.

  “We searched the compound. No sign of them.” Walker strode to a chair near the door and picked up the black backpack that was sitting there. “We’re also missing a Gator. Where do you think she’d go?”

  Brady had to concentrate to unclench his jaw, clamped tightly shut by the uneasiness that put his entire body on edge at the mention of Nick Taylor. “Marco loves the Plateau. It’s his favorite place. Mac knew that, and if she thought the kid headed there by himself, she’d probably go after him.” It suddenly got hard to breathe. If he hadn’t been such a shithead, she’d never have gone alone.

  “That would be a break for Hernandez—the two people he wants most heading right for him. Seems strange to me that she wouldn’t ask for help. Doesn’t it, Jim?” Joe’s gaze flickered over him.

  As usual, Joe’s instincts were right on, but there was no way Brady was telling him that he and Mac had argued and that she’d kicked him out of her room. For one thing, if he spoke the words, it would be real, and he suddenly knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that he wasn’t ready to lose her. He wanted her in his life permanently, in spite of having no idea how to fix the mess he’d made.

  “I’m going with you to the Plateau.” He glared at the three men, daring them to object. They exchanged glances in the heavy silence that followed. Brady’s tension hitched a notch. If Joe said no, he’d go by himself.

  Walker and Ty grinned as Joe stepped toward him and slapped him on the shoulder. “Never expected anything less. Let’s get going.”

  Walker stopped in front of Brady. “Everything okay with you?”

  Brady let his breath out slowly and shook his head. “No, but I owe you an apology.”

  “No you don’t. Let’s go find her.” Walker cuffed him on the arm as he walked by.

  Brady turned toward the stairs, needing a few seconds alone to get his head in the game as much as he needed the additional tools of his trade that he kept in his closet. In spite of the situation, he felt more hopeful than he had in years. She was responsible for that, and he wasn’t about to let her down now. He’d find Mac, and then he’d convince her he was an idiot, which really shouldn’t be that hard, considering. He gave no thought to the alternative, because not finding her wasn’t an option.

  Grabbing his duffel from the floor of his closet, he dug through it until he found the Beretta in his ankle holster and strapped it on. Next came the partially serrated combat blade he’d never been without on hundreds of missions. He threaded his belt through the scabbard and felt its familiar weight settle onto his hip. The shoulder holster slid into place, and the .357 Magnum fit snugly against his side. He threw a lightweight jacket on, returned to his duffel one more time for his night-vision goggles, and decided to carry his Colt AR-15 rifle too. Who knew how far away these slimeballs would be?

  The others were ready when he descended the stairs, and the five of them headed for the shed containing the last two Gators. Joe, Rayna, and Sanchez piled into one and took the lead. Brady and Walker brought up the rear.

  Brady welcomed the darkness and the cold breeze that blew steadily in his face. It reminded him of other missions he’d been on with his brothers in the SEALs. Many nights they’d r
aced across open waters in small rubber rafts with no lights and nothing but night-vision equipment to guide them to shore. Back then, he knew who the enemy was. Tonight, the enemies were yet to be determined, but whoever they were, they weren’t going to hurt his woman or Marco.

  “What’s so funny?” Walker leaned toward him to be heard over the noise of the engine.

  “Nothin’.” Brady immediately squelched the smile that had pulled at his lips when he thought of her as his woman. He was a long way from earning the right to call her that, and he doubted she’d make it easy on him, but it would damn sure be fun convincing her. His lips twitched with humor again.

  Walker snorted a laugh. “Yeah, right, bro.” He met Brady’s gaze and sobered. “Hell yeah, we’ll find her.”

  Brady nodded, grateful for his new brothers, who’d had his back every time he’d needed them.

  After a few minutes, they slowed down, and both parked behind the third Gator, abandoned beside the trail. The team scrambled out of the vehicles and scoured the area for anything out of place. Brady pressed his hand to the engine compartment of the four-wheeler Mac had taken from the compound. There was still some warmth. If he had to guess, he’d say the Gator had been parked there for thirty to forty minutes. He hated to contemplate the trouble she and Marco could get into in that much time.

  Walker strode up the trail, shining his flashlight on the ground for a few minutes before straightening and returning to where Brady and the others waited. “There are two sets of tracks—both adult sized. No sign of Marco. He might have been carried.” With one look at Brady, Walker hurried on. “Or he may be too little to make an impression, or maybe he walked to the side of the trail where’s there’s more vegetation to cover his tracks.”

  “If the second set of prints doesn’t belong to Marco, who’s she with?” Brady scowled, apprehension crawling slowly across his skin as Nick’s slimy image took shape in his mind.

  “A man, for sure. Weight one-eighty or one-ninety. No sign of a struggle.” Walker switched his flashlight off and leaned over the side of the Gator, retrieving his backpack.