Cut and Run (Phoenix Code 1 & 2)
Page 7
“A nightmare,” she suggested, but the look he turned on her said it had been something more. Something much worse than that. “A premonition?”
He nodded. God, he looked absolutely sick with it. “I’ve been seeing it for the past three years, ever since the Phoenix program went dark. The same premonition, over and over and over. It’s horrific and…incomplete somehow. I have to figure out what it means.”
She listened, seeing the torment in him. “And this is all part of your work for the CIA—for the Phoenix program? They wanted you to see terrible things, then try to make sure they wouldn’t happen? My God, Ethan. What that must do to you.”
“It was important work. I’ve never been unable to handle it.” He shrugged vaguely. “I could handle this too, if I only knew what it was I’m missing.”
She tenderly stroked his muscled back, small caresses, unable to resist the need to touch him, to comfort him even in some small way if she could. “Tell me about the dream.”
She didn’t know if he was willing to let her in that close. But he hardly hesitated, pivoting around to capture her hand in his as he spoke.
“It’s always the same. Brief glimpses of a bigger picture. I’m running full tilt through thick, yellow sand. I know I need to get somewhere fast—before it’s too late—but no matter how hard I run, it’s never enough. I’m getting nowhere. There’s a building up ahead of me, but I can’t get to it in time.”
Tori stared at him, her own fear ratcheting. “In time for what, Ethan?”
“To stop what happens next.” He glanced down at their joined fingers, frowning, his expression grim with his burden. “As soon as I see the SUVs, I know it’s already too late. The clock is ticking. Time is running out too fast. I know the detonation is about to hit.”
She couldn’t speak now. Could only listen and wait as he prepared to tell her the worst of his premonition.
“The caravan is speeding across the sand, kicking up a cloud of blinding dust,” Ethan murmured. “I see the line of black vehicles with diplomatic plates—Christ, I have time enough to count all nine of them, but I can’t turn them back. I can’t make it stop. By the time the last SUV passes, the clock has run out. The explosion is…hellish. That’s the only word for it.”
Tori squeezed his hand. “Oh, Ethan.”
“The fire washes over me,” he said woodenly. “It burns my face, my hair. It melts my skin right off my bones. And all I can think of, as the flames engulf everything, is that I failed.”
She felt sick for the misery his gift had caused him, at least with this horrific vision. An Armageddon-style nightmare that he’d been suffering through repeatedly for three years.
“Have you told anyone about this premonition?” she asked. “Maybe there’s someone in the CIA who can help you.”
“There’s no one. No one left in the Company that I can trust.” A sharp, weary sounding sigh gusted out of him. “The director of the Phoenix program, Henry Sheppard, gave explicit instructions on how to handle a potential betrayal of the program. ‘Go to ground. Trust no one. Assume all is lost.’ That was the message he sent me the day I disappeared. He would’ve sent the psychic distress call to all of the agents in the program that day.”
Hope kindled to life. “If there are others in the program, Ethan, maybe we should try to find them. Maybe they will understand what the vision means.”
“We,” he said gently. “Tori, this isn’t something you can be involved in. I won’t allow it, especially not when there’s a hired gun on my trail already. Shit, thanks to your involvement with me this far, you’re already under more risk than I can accept. You’re going home to Maine in the morning, before you’re dragged any deeper into trouble that doesn’t belong to you.”
“And you?” she asked, too stung to pretend it didn’t hurt to know her time with Ethan would be ending in just a few more hours. “What will you do? Where will you go?”
“I don’t know. I’ll keep moving.” He shook his head. “Even if I thought it might be safe to trust any of the other Phoenix members, I wouldn’t know where to find them. I’ve never seen any of them in person—not that I’m aware of, that is. We were referred to only by codenames. I was called Zephyr. And as far as I know, only a handful of our codenames were privy to anyone besides Sheppard.”
“None of you met one another in your work for the program, not even briefly?”
“Aside from combat training exercises and other directives at The Farm, Phoenix operatives were kept apart,” he explained. “It was done deliberately to avoid group-thinking our visions. The program required pure data from each of the agents in the field. We lived relatively normal lives once we were out of training, but it was our duty to stimulate our ability while we were on the outside by keeping up on current events, studying various sciences and arts, reading just about anything that caught our attention. We reported in regularly with any precognitive images or intel those exercises generated.”
Another piece of the puzzle that was Ethan Jones clicked into place for her just now.
“That’s why you were so well-read, and so informed on just about every subject under the sun. God, you must’ve thought I was an idiot that I never caught on to any of this.”
“I never thought that.” When she glanced away from him, he caught her chin and brought her gaze back. “Never. You were the only woman who ever challenged me, stood up to me. You always called me on my bullshit.”
“Someone has to,” she muttered, wishing he wasn’t able to charm her so easily.
He didn’t let go of her face, but his touch became a caress. “You’re tougher and smarter than I can ever hope to be. Given the same training, you’d be one hell of a partner, I have no doubt. But this isn’t your fight, Tori. It’s not your problem.”
“What do you plan to do, Ethan?”
A tendon ticked in his jaw. “I have to deal with the asshole who’s been sent to kill me. That’s objective number one. There’s also a part of me that’s itching for payback on all of this shit. Someone took down Phoenix and killed its founder. Henry Sheppard was a good man, one of the best. He didn’t need to die. There are days when the need to take that price out in someone’s blood keeps me going, even more so than the need to preserve my own neck or figure out what that nightmare vision means.”
“He meant a lot to you, the head of the Phoenix program?”
“Henry Sheppard was a mentor to me from the time I was eighteen. I had no family—none that I cared to acknowledge, that is. He made me feel important when I thought I was worthless, a freak. He made me feel unique, valuable.” Ethan chuckled. “Knowing Sheppard, he probably instilled that same sense of self-worth in every member of the program.”
He let his hand fall away from her face, only to thread his fingers through hers again, as if he didn’t want to be separated from her any longer than she wanted it either.
“I owe it to Sheppard to do what I can to ensure whoever started this war doesn’t succeed. I’ll do whatever it takes to see that through. That’s my mission now. And you, Tori…keeping you safe is more important than all the rest of it.”
He brought his other hand up and cupped it warmly around her nape. The kiss he gave her was slow and sweet and tender.
When he pulled back a moment later, there was an unmistakable heat kindling in his hazel eyes. “I just realized I have another critical mission objective. One that really can’t wait.”
She couldn’t hold back her smile. “Oh, yeah? What’s that?”
“I need to hear you scream my name at least three more times before morning.”
“Three times?” she asked, laughing as he pressed her down onto the bed. “That’s going to be a problem. We ran out of condoms hours ago, remember?”
He smirked. “Then I’ll just have to get creative.”
Slowly, he parted her naked legs, then sank his head down between her thighs.
13
Morning arrived much too early.
Ethan had ke
pt Tori in bed with him for as long as possible, savoring the feel of her arms around him, their legs tangled together under the cool sheets. He groaned when the alarm went off at seven a.m., not at all ready to let reality intrude.
In less than three hours, Tori would be at the airport, boarding her flight back to Portland.
She seemed to dread it at least as much as he did. Her little moan vibrated through his chest where her cheek rested. “I don’t want to wake up yet.”
“Neither do I,” he said, dropping a kiss on the top of her head. “But it’s time.”
The logical side of him knew that sending her home, away from him, was the best way to assure her safety.
The man hunting him was a professional, not a psychopath. He would have no cause to harm Tori, so long as she wasn’t standing in the way of his true target.
Ethan couldn’t think of any better place for her to avoid the assassin’s crosshairs than all the way across the country.
But there was another side of him that could hardly bear the thought of letting Tori out of his reach. The part of him that didn’t spend almost every waking moment watching for incoming enemy fire, or portents of a hellish disaster on the horizon, wanted nothing more than to keep her close.
As close as they’d been before Henry Sheppard issued the Phoenix down distress call.
Closer even than they had been before. Because now Tori knew him more completely than anyone ever had.
There were still things he hadn’t told her, things he wasn’t proud of. Things he’d left buried in his past, monsters he intended to keep hidden under the bed where they belonged.
But he’d been more real with her than any other person in his life. If he was being honest with himself, Tori Connors had found her way through his defensive walls and into his heart back in Maine.
If he thought he could bar her now, after their unexpected reunion and the incredible night they’d just shared, then he was a bigger fool than he should ever admit.
He caressed the slender length of her arm, and bent his head to inhale the sweet fragrance of her short blond hair. “It’s time, babe. We have to get moving.”
“I know.” She pressed her lips to his chest, right above the cold knot that had taken up residence below his sternum. “Join me in the shower?”
One last time.
He was glad she didn’t say it, but neither of them could ignore the weight of each minute that ticked rapidly past them.
They showered and got dressed in tender silence. Then, when reality could be avoided no longer, they went down to meet the taxi Ethan had arranged for with the hotel.
Tori’s hand clung to his as they rode in the backseat of the yellow cab to the airport. The drive across town seemed to take mere minutes, even in the gathering rush hour. Of course, today of all days, there would be nothing but smooth traffic and no delays. A clear path to their personal end of the line.
Ethan’s heart was banging behind his sternum as the taxi slowed to find a spot at the curb to unload. He didn’t want to let Tori out of the vehicle. He didn’t want to let her leave him. Not ever, if he had the choice.
“Here we are, folks.” The cab driver’s cheerful announcement made Ethan’s regret tighten in his chest.
He paid the fare, but neither he nor Tori moved to get out. On a quiet cry, she flung her arms around him. Ethan closed his eyes and embraced her, savoring the feel of her against him for as long as he possibly could.
“Let’s go, babe. We have to do this,” he finally murmured, but still couldn’t convince his arms to release her, even as the taxi driver came around to open the back door to the crowded curb outside the airline’s departures terminal.
They climbed out together, but had hardly gotten to their feet on the concrete when Tori’s cell phone gave a quiet chirp.
“Oh, shit.” Tori said. “I told Hoshi I’d call her as soon as I could. That’s probably her texting me, worried sick by now.”
As the taxi rolled away, she fished the mobile out of her purse, then frowned. “It’s not her. It’s the airline.”
Ethan scowled, adrenaline shooting into his veins. “What’s it say?”
“My flight is overbooked. They’ve bumped me to standby.” She glanced over at him. “It says I need to stop at the ticket counter as soon as possible to make alternate arrangements.”
Something wasn’t right. His realization was instant.
So was his dread.
“No way.” She handed him the phone to take a look at the message. He wanted to crush the damned thing in his fist. “This is a trap. No fucking way are you stepping foot inside this airport now.”
Tori’s face went white. “You think he’s done this somehow—the man who’s after you?”
Scanning the immediate area, Ethan gave a grim nod, but he feared it was even worse. Tori hadn’t been taken off her flight by Ethan’s assailant, but by whoever had sent the man.
Which meant now the assassin not only had Tori’s visual description from the other day at the market, but her name and address too.
Jesus Christ. By now, they probably have everything on her.
“This phone is toast. We have to lose it. And we have to go.”
The busy airport was clotted with people coming and going. Lines of cars idled near the curb, others weaving between buses and shuttles, everyone jockeying for positions.
As Ethan’s gaze traveled his surroundings, he spotted the one thing he prayed he wouldn’t find. The now-familiar rugged face and bald head of the assassin. He stood just inside the terminal near the windows, scanning the arriving throng.
“Shit.” Ethan started calculating their options, few as they were. He grabbed Tori’s hand. “Come on. We’re getting the fuck out of here.”
“Is it him? Oh, God. You see him somewhere, don’t you?” She looked so scared, it nearly killed him. “What will we do, Ethan? Where can we go?”
At that moment, he had no goddamned idea.
“Leave that to me. I’ll get you out of here. I’ll keep you safe.”
And he would, to his last breath, if that’s what it took.
14
Tori’s heart lodged in her throat as Ethan pulled her along with him, stepping down off the curb to dart through the sea of vehicles clogging the pavement outside the terminal.
“Oh, God, Ethan. Do you think he saw us? Do you think he’s coming after us?”
“Don’t look for him,” he ordered her, when Tori’s dread compelled her to search every face in the crowd for the one hunting Ethan.
And now, apparently, hunting her as well.
“This way. We have to hurry, Tori.”
With his backpack from the bus station locker slung over his good shoulder, Ethan’s grasp was firm on her hand as he rushed toward a silver Impala standing vacant about four cars up the line. The driver’s side door was carelessly left open. The sedan’s former occupants, a young couple obviously in love, were in the midst of a long kiss goodbye in the white zone.
Ethan made a beeline for their car.
He swung Tori ahead of him as they approached the open door. He kept his voice low, urgent. “Get in. Do it quick.”
She slid in. Hopped over to the passenger seat. Ethan was already behind the wheel as Tori clicked her seatbelt on.
Over on the curb, the passionate couple had suddenly realized there was something going on behind them.
Ethan shot Tori a less than repentant look, his mouth quirking. “They don’t seem eager to part. We’re probably doing them a favor.”
He threw the car in gear and hit the gas.
He sped out of the terminal and through the city without consulting street signs or the vehicle’s GPS, making a fast track for the interstate. He drove with full concentration on the task, his gaze distant, calculating, as the miles added up behind them.
They had been heading east on I-90 for almost an hour before he finally spoke. “You can’t go back to Maine now, Tori. Not for a while. Maybe not ever.”
“You think he’ll try to kill me too?”
Ethan’s mouth pressed flat. “I’m not about to chance it. The fact that they found your flight information—that they now know your name and probably everything else about you—means they also realize you’re important to me. They’ll know if they have you, they’ve got me too.”
“They,” Tori murmured. “You’re talking about, what—the government? The CIA? Is that who you think sent this man to kill you?”
“I don’t know. It could be either of those entities. Maybe even both.”
God, she couldn’t believe how calmly she was having this conversation. But the past couple of days had been a crash course in learning to believe the unbelievable.
Why not accept that she was now swept up in a potential government conspiracy with her covert agent, psychically gifted lover?
She might have laughed if the reality of it hadn’t chilled her through to the bone.
Ethan kept his eyes on the road as they zipped along the forest-lined interstate. His hands were wrapped tight on the wheel, his squared jaw tense. “Someone wants to make sure the Phoenix program and everyone associated with it is eliminated. The question is, why?”
“What if it has something to do with the nightmare?” she murmured.
Ethan glanced at her, and his expression was utterly bleak. “Pray that it doesn’t.”
Tori sat back, a grave silence descending over both of them as the hours rolled on and the danger they’d left behind in Seattle faded farther and farther into the distance.
Heading south on a two-lane U.S. highway that had taken them into Oregon some hundred miles back, Ethan glanced at the dashboard and blew out a low curse. “Shit. We’re going to need to stop for gas before long. And it’s almost noon. You must be hungry.”
She was starving, but she wouldn’t have complained about an empty stomach when Ethan was doing his best to get them to safe ground. Wherever that might be.
“Where are we going, anyway?”
He gave a vague shrug. “Haven’t decided. Unfortunately, we’ll have to lose this car as soon as possible. We can’t risk driving around in a stolen vehicle.”