by Leigh, Jo
“It’s Nate.”
“Oh, shit. Why?”
“One of the team was compromised. I wanted to make sure they hadn’t found you.”
“Oh, shit,” he repeated, more fully awake.
“You have your weapon?”
“Yeah, but I can’t hit the side of a barn door.”
“You don’t have to. You stick the gun in your assailant’s stomach and pull the trigger. Easy as pie.”
“I don’t know how to bake, either.”
“I think you’re in the clear.” Nate turned on Sycamore, then on Vanowen. “If they were going to go after you, they’d have been there by now. Just keep an eye out.”
“As if I’ll ever sleep again.”
“We’re changing our base of operations. I’ll call you in a day or two.”
“Are you leaving the city?”
“More than that. I have to go. Stay safe.” Just as Nate was hanging up, he heard Eli’s, “Oh, shit,” one last time.
There was the hotel. It wasn’t one he’d usually choose. This place had an elevator and room service. It also had a great big bathtub and beds soft as a cloud. His only problem was going to be getting Tam up to the room. He’d use the service elevator, but he hadn’t checked out the place and he wasn’t sure where it was.
He turned the truck into the underground parking, and his problem was solved almost instantly. There was a delivery truck by the restaurant back door, and Nate could see the service elevator right inside.
He parked close to the exit, and as the truck’s motor cut off, Tam woke. She blinked, looked around. “Where are we?”
“Hotel. I’m going to get a room, but you’ll need to stay in the truck while I do it.”
She looked at him with terrified eyes, but she nodded. He handed her the Glock she’d dropped back at the fail-safe, and she had enough wits about her to check the safety. “Go. I’ll keep low.”
He smiled at her, wanting to do more. Instead, he opened his door.
“Wait.”
He turned back.
She reached up and wiped his temple with the flat of her thumb. “Ash.”
He got out of the truck before he did something stupid. Like kiss her. Not that wanting to do that was anything new. But it still wasn’t right. He was responsible for her safety. How could she trust him if he came onto her? So he didn’t. Even though he wanted her as fervently as his old life.
By the time he’d spent too much on a room and returned to the car, Tam was trembling again. He’d known it would be difficult for her, but he hadn’t realized the desk clerk would move like molasses. Tam had cleaned her face a bit, but there was no way to get her in through the lobby.
There was no one near the delivery truck, so he did a very brief check, then practically carried her into the service elevator.
Though he had his gun at the ready, he doubted he’d need it. He’d know if they had been followed. At least, he had to believe that or go insane.
No one was in the hallway on the sixth floor, and he could see the relief on her face, in her body, as they entered the privacy of the room. He bolted the door, then led her to the edge of the big, king-sized bed. “I asked for two queens, but this is all they had left.”
She sat down, looking as if she’d fall over in a stiff breeze. “That’s good,” she said. “I want you to sleep with me.”
He felt his body tighten but kept his reaction from his face. “Sure. No problem. We’ll just get you in the tub first.”
She didn’t even nod or look at him. All she did was close her eyes, and he wondered if she was going to make it through a bath.
What he knew for sure is that he wouldn’t be getting any sleep. He headed for the bathroom, and as he started the water in the big tub, he whispered, “Oh, shit.”
Chapter 2
Boone Ferguson held the door open for Seth, then followed him inside the lion’s den. It was late—the graveyard shift here at Omicron’s Nevada plant—and they were dressed in blue coveralls like all the other people showing up to work. They’d stolen the uniforms three nights ago. It had taken them awhile to make their badges look legitimate. There was no reason for anyone to stop them, to question them. Unless they blew it.
All it would take was one false step and it would be over for both of them. If they were discovered, they had their instructions. No surrender. No interrogation. Period.
Boone had been a soldier for a long time and the possibility of death came with the territory. Only now, for the first time in his life, he cared. One hell of a lot.
He didn’t want to leave Christie. The thought of never seeing her again made him gut sick. He’d only just found her. In a goddamn crummy way, that’s for sure, but he figured that had helped them get closer.
Months earlier she’d been stalked to the point of abandoning her home and any life she’d known. At Nate’s request, Boone had gone to help. He’d fallen for her hard, even though he didn’t want her to be involved in this Omicron mess. It had thrown both of them when they’d discovered the stalker was actually an Omicron agent, looking for Nate. She’d been targeted, just like the rest of them. So they’d joined forces, and he’d never have guessed how it could change his life.
The irony wasn’t lost on him. He thought often about the Dickens’ quote, “It was the best of times…” Being with Christie was the best thing that had ever happened to him. Being a fugitive because of Omicron’s lies was the worst.
Tonight, he and Seth were going to be risking more than on any other foray. They were going inside, to map out the plant as thoroughly as possible. Although they hadn’t figured out what, exactly, they were going to do with the information, it was important to know what they were up against.
So they walked inside the cavernous room, filled with production lines and heavy machinery. This wasn’t where they made the deadly gas. It was where they made the canisters. On the surface, an innocuous enough task for the employee.
Walking quickly down one side of the long building, Boone estimated there were around seventy people in this room alone. He’d seen the parking lot, but he’d underestimated the number of employees who were bused here from Vegas and Mesquite.
The number of people who dealt directly with the gas would be small in comparison. For all Boone knew, they only did the most dangerous work on the day shift in another part of the factory. They’d have to keep exploring if they wanted to know for sure.
He looked ahead at Seth, who he knew was memorizing the layout for the moment they were free. Seth’s prosthetic hand was in his coverall pocket. He’d lost his hand in an earlier skirmish with Omicron, but Harper had saved his life. And there was more going on there. Boone grinned.
Seth led him past a large break room. There were rows of tables and benches and the walls were lined with vending machines. Two big refrigerators were in the back, along with a row of microwaves.
Next, they went past a locker room, and it was crowded. Men and women were stowing lunches or purses into their lockers, and he saw a number of them putting on hairnets. Like most workplaces, there was a smattering of laughter and a lot of talk. No one took notice of him or Seth.
Finally, they reached a door that held promise. A woman walked in, using a keycard. He only caught a glimpse, but it was enough to make him curse. There was a biometric hand scanner inside, one that read fingerprints. How the hell were they going to get past that device?
He moved on, following the wall until he got to the back door. A loud alarm rang, and his heart pounded until he realized it was just the work horn. The graveyard shift had officially started.
He pushed open the door and found Seth waiting. They headed toward building two where they’d find a bathroom, lock themselves inside stalls and diagram the production line. Then they’d go through the whole exercise again, until just before dawn.
One more time, they’d race across the desert until they reached the hole in the fence. One more time, Boone would pray they wouldn’t be spotted by the se
curity guards in the air, in the jeeps, monitoring the surveillance cameras. All he had to do was keep his eye on the goal. A lifetime with Christie where they didn’t have to hide. Where they didn’t have to be scared. Where they could finally be free.
* * * * * *
SHE WANTED TO SLEEP FOREVER, but Tam forced herself to sit on the edge of the bed as she waited for Nate. The bath would take more energy than she had, but more than anything she needed to wash away the remnants that clung to her skin, her hair, and under her nails from what had happened tonight.
The sound of water filling the tub lulled her even closer to sleep, and she jerked up, almost falling over.
Nate walked out of the bathroom, his jacket off, his blue chambray shirtsleeves rolled above his elbows. He smiled so warmly, she managed a smile back. She only wished she could stop shaking.
“It’s ready.”
She nodded as she stood, then looked back at the bedspread. She expected to see more ash and dirt on the clean white comforter, but it wasn’t too bad. Just a couple of smudges.
“You okay?”
He stood right next to her and she leaned against him as she’d done in the car. “I’m so tired.”
“That’s shock. I’m worried that you’re going to fall asleep in the tub.”
She yawned, not even covering her mouth. Her mother would have scolded her for that, although not until they were in private. “I probably will.”
He put his hand on her waist, gripping strongly. “Maybe we should skip it. Or put you in the shower.”
“No. Just come with me. If I start to drown, pull me up by the hair.”
He didn’t answer, and his hand tightened further on her waist. She should look at him, see what was going on, but screw it. She had to get clean. As tired as she was, sleeping in her own filth held no appeal. The very idea made her skin crawl. “Come on. Let’s do it.”
He helped her into the large bathroom, and for a moment she felt disoriented. The white tile, the white towels. Everything was clean and bright. This was the real world. The kind of place she’d dreamed about in her long stay underground.
He guided her over to the commode and after he put the seat down, he seated her. “We have to get these off,” he said. His voice sounded strange, or maybe it was her ears. She wouldn’t trust anything tonight.
He lifted her arms and pulled the T-shirt over her head. She felt no embarrassment being in her bra. Or out of it. Being naked was the least of her problems. If it had been anyone else, she probably would have been more concerned, but it was Nate, and his hands were so big and so gentle. He removed her clothes as if she were a child. Lifting one foot, then the other to take off her shoes. He stood her up to get her jeans off. Smart man, he took her panties along with them.
When he had her in the buff, he walked her over to the tub and held on to her as she got in the hot water. It took a minute for her to adjust to the temperature, but he was patient. Quiet, too. Inch by inch she lay down, letting the warmth seep deep into her bones.
When she was up to her neck in water, she looked up at Nate. He wasn’t smiling, in fact, his lips were pressed so tightly together they were white. She would have asked him what was wrong, but her head went back and her eyes shut as she tried to let the horrors of the night go…for now.
She felt him sit on the edge of the tub, and she giggled with the thought that he was the best bath toy ever. Rubber ducks included. She must be losing it.
“What’s so funny?”
“Nothing.”
“Okay. Uh, you want me to put some soap on the washcloth for you?”
“Sure, why not?”
He reached over her and grabbed the bar of hotel soap and then he dipped the cloth in the water. “I’ll bet you’re a real fun drunk.”
“I wouldn’t know,” she said. “I’ve never been drunk.”
“Never? Not even in college?”
“Nope.”
“Come on. I’ve met guys from MIT. They partied as hard as anyone.”
“I was too busy being a nerd,” she said. “I didn’t have a social life.”
“I can’t picture that,” he said as he leaned toward her. He pushed her hair back with his tender touch, then slowly cleaned her face with the soft cloth. “I’ll bet every guy in Cambridge was banging at your door.”
“You’d lose your money.”
“You didn’t have a boyfriend?”
“One. But he was a bigger nerd than I was. We spent all our time in the lab. We never even did it.”
His hand stilled. She could just imagine the shocked look on his face. One thing for sure, no one would ever call Nate a nerd. He was everything women swoon over—tall, dark, handsome as sin. Those green eyes of his could seduce the pants off a girl without him even trying. Not to mention the little cleft in his chin.
“Are you a virgin?”
That got her eyes open. “Would that shock you?”
“Yes.”
“Well, don’t worry. I’m not.”
“Okay, then.” He rinsed the washcloth and went over her face with it once more.
“Kate told me all about you,” she said, bliss taking over her body. “She said you surprised her.”
“Oh? How?”
“She figured you were an out-and-out hound dog, but then you turned out to be a gentleman.”
He grunted.
“No, really. She said you made no pretense about not wanting anything serious, but you weren’t only thinking of yourself. She liked you.”
“She dumped me.”
“Doesn’t matter. She thought you were hot.”
“Hot, huh?”
His hand went behind her back and she let him push her forward. He washed her back, then rinsed it, and she just sat there like a lump.
“You want your hair washed?”
She nodded.
“You got it. Now, lean back and close your eyes.”
He dipped her into the warmth, holding her steady. She thought of movies she’d seen of people being baptized. The congregants had worn white robes, but still, it was just like that, and not only because of how he held her. She had lost the last of her innocence tonight. She’d taken a life, had seen her world turn to ashes.
He lifted her back up, and then he did the most amazing thing in the whole world. He poured shampoo in his hands and he washed her hair. So gently, so wonderfully, it was miraculous, life-changing, and he just kept massaging and massaging.
“You like that?”
She made some kind of sound, something in the affirmative vein.
He chuckled and he didn’t stop.
She jerked again, and blinked. She must have fallen asleep.
“Let’s get you rinsed off and put you to bed,” he said.
“Okay,” she mumbled.
She struggled to stay awake while he rinsed the shampoo out of her hair. Then he stood her up and got her out of the tub. Instantly, there was a big fluffy towel around her, and he dried her with the same care.
He led her out of the bath and when they were next to the bed he drew back the covers.
She looked at him. “I don’t have pajamas.”
“It’s okay.”
“You don’t either.”
“That’s okay, too. I’m going to be right over there.” He nodded toward a chair by the window.
“No,” she said. “You’re sleeping with me.”
“Tam—”
She turned to him, took hold of his shirt and met his gaze. “Please?”
He didn’t answer for a second as he searched her eyes. She felt sure he was going to tell her not to be ridiculous, but then he smiled and said, “Sure.”
“Nate?”
“Yeah?”
“Thank you for saving me.”
“You saved yourself.”
Tam shook her head. “No. You’ve saved me every single day since I met you.”
He leaned down and kissed her on the cheek. “Not yet,” he whispered, “but I will. I promise.”
That was good enough for her. She climbed into bed, and fell asleep.
* * * * * *
By the second hour of the weekly status meeting, CEO Leland Ingram felt a trickle of sweat snake down his neck as he forced a laugh. Senator Jackson Raines had told a joke, a bad one, but there wasn’t a man in the room who didn’t act as if Raines was as funny as Leno.
Ingram admired the senator but he didn’t like the son of a bitch one damn bit. Still, there was no option but for Leland to smile, say the right thing at the right time and do some major ass kissing. That’s just the way it went, and Leland was nothing if not a pragmatic. He might be officially in charge of Omicron’s day-to-day business, but Raines was the guiding force behind its highly secret operation. One that benefited them both.
Raines sat in the king’s chair in the conference room. It was slightly higher, slightly bigger and at the head of the table so everyone else in the meeting would have to look up at him. The decorator who’d done this building and Omicron’s office in Colorado hadn’t understood the necessity of the king’s chair until Leland had explained it to him. Men need to know who’s boss, who has the final say. In this pansy-ass age of political correctness, it wasn’t words that communicated, it was body language, position, the king’s seat.
Raines brought in the money. Therefore, he was the king pin. He’d called the meeting for 7:00 a.m., knowing it would be difficult for the managers to get here so early. When Leland’s secretary had proposed bringing in coffee and Danish, Raines had given an emphatic no. It was all games. Games with damned high stakes.
Leland himself was the Prince Regent and soon the dynamic was going to shift in his favor. Not today. Today there were going to be fireworks. Nonetheless when the shipment went out and Leland put the money in Omicron’s secret offshore account, Raines would have to give Leland his due.
“Thank you, gentlemen,” the senator said, leaning back in his chair.
That’s all that needed to be said. The underlings moved out in an orderly fashion, taking BlackBerrys and PDAs with them, leaving Ingram to hear the private word.
When the door to the conference room closed, Leland prepared by focusing his gaze on the bridge of Raines’s nose. It would appear, from the king’s seat, as if his eyes were slightly downcast, but not subservient. That he might be receiving a dressing-down, but he wasn’t a toady.
