Dale swung back in his chair, staring out at the city view from his office windows. He had barely stepped foot in here in days. Robin’s makeshift lab had become his new working environment. He felt a twinge of sadness. If only he could go back to the days before all of this had happened. The days when he had been on top of the world with a cure for cancer in the wings and a beautiful, loving woman by his side.
Stop it, he told himself fiercely. It is what it is. And he was excited—no, that was an understatement. He was almost jubilant, quivering with anticipation. Things were heating up. They had a definite lead. He was getting closer to getting the nanites back.
He turned away from the view. No time for nostalgia. The loving woman had been a lie, anyway. He must always remember that.
The door opened. Mason and Audra walked in, taking their seats. Dale turned back to the door, waiting. “Where is she?”
Audra rolled her eyes. “I told her, but she said five minutes. And that was only when I could get her to take the headphones off to speak to me.”
Dale frowned, but at that moment, Robin breezed in. She must have gone home for a while—her dark blonde hair was still slightly wet from a shower. He watched it falling in damp waves around her face and felt his heart thud just a little bit faster. And it beat faster still when she fixed those intense green eyes on him. He stared at her, amazed. What on earth was going on between them?
He liked her, he knew that—despite their obvious differences. In fact, they got along like a house on fire. He could freely admit that he was enjoying spending time with her; they made a great little team. She was brilliant and creative and thought outside the box. But she was also picky and pedantic and sometimes it took all his effort not to scream when he was around her.
Robin Stowe was an enigma. But the only puzzle he had time to figure out was where his missing nanites were. He just had to ignore the chemistry between them. And he didn’t want to go there, anyway. He never wanted to fall in love again, and even a fling was beyond him.
“Updates?” His voice was crisp as he stared at his team.
“The signal has faded in and out, but the briefcase is definitely there,” said Mason. “Morocco.”
“And so is Jeremy Thompson.” Robin’s voice was low. “He flew there on his private jet yesterday. Destination: Marrakech.” She paused. “And I’ve been tracking some deep web rumors about the nanites. One said that ‘the package is headed to the Medina.’”
Dale felt a stab of excitement. “Well, that’s it then. That’s where we are heading. Audra, make the plans. Get the jet ready for takeoff tomorrow. That should give us enough time to organize everything from this end.”
“Yes, sir.” Audra’s eyes were gleaming. “Should I book us a house?”
Dale nodded. “In the Medina, the old part of the city, where the nanites are supposedly heading. And since Thompson’s house is supposedly located there too.”
“We won’t be able to bring equipment with us,” said Mason. “We’ll have to purchase new stuff over there. Too difficult crossing borders with it and getting it through customs.”
Dale nodded. “We’ll figure it out there. The important thing is that we are on the ground to track what’s happening.” He paused. “People, we are going to Marrakech.”
* * *
Dale walked over to the lab desk, staring down at Robin. She had been unusually quiet since he had announced they were following the lead to Morocco.
She glanced up at him. “I still can’t find his address. Sorry.” She grimaced slightly. “You’ll have to hit the ground for intel when you guys are over there.”
He nodded. “That’s fine.” He cleared his throat. “Robin, will you come with us to Morocco?”
She stared at him, her eyes widening. “You want me to come with you? I’ve never been overseas before.” She hesitated. “I’ve never traveled at all.”
“We need you.” He paused. “I need you. We could never have gotten as far as we have without you, and who knows what problems we’ll have there. You are part of the team now.”
“I am?” She looked amazed. “I’ve never been part of a team before. Used to working by myself, I guess.”
“If you haven’t traveled overseas before, do you have a passport?”
“No.” She stood up, facing him. “But I know how to get one quickly.”
“You are amazing,” he said, shaking his head. “Is there anything you can’t do?”
She shrugged. “Not much, I guess. Except find this guy Thompson’s address in Marrakech. Now that’s bugging me, I can tell you.”
He laughed softly, gazing at her. Suddenly he just couldn’t help himself. Was it her closeness, or the smell of the shampoo she had used on her hair? Something lemony and fresh. A world away from the cloying, expensive perfume Carlotta had always doused herself with.
He reached out, pulling her towards him. She came willingly. And then he bent his head and found her lips. They were soft. So soft. He deepened the kiss, feeling a sudden hunger rear to life inside him. She responded, pressing herself into him, winding her hands into his hair.
He broke contact, pulling away, his breath ragged. What on earth was he doing? This was madness. She was working for him. A sudden sharp memory of Carlotta in her glamorous red dress, on the night of the convention, assailed him. The gold digger, about to steal his nanites.
He couldn’t do it. He just couldn’t.
“I’m sorry,” he said now, turning away from her.
There was an awkward silence.
“Hey, that’s cool.” Robin stared at him evenly. “It was just a kiss. No biggie.”
“Are you sure?” He gazed at her, almost weak with relief. “You’re okay?”
She smiled. “I’m a big girl, Dale. I’ve been kissed before. It’s all good.”
He smiled back, a little tentatively. “Well, I should go and let Audra know that we have one extra on our flight. And you should get onto that passport, pronto.”
“Yes, sir.” She mock-saluted him, then sat back down at her desk, putting her headphones on.
Dale hesitated for a moment, then walked swiftly to the door. He didn’t see her turn and gaze at him. He was already gone.
* * *
Robin took off her headphones as soon as the door closed behind him. She stared off into space. She was rattled. There was little point denying it.
She sighed, picking up the can of 7UP beside her, then quickly put it down again. She had been doing so well. Since Audra’s warning she had even managed to tone down the sexual fantasies about him. Just a little, anyway. From XXX to NC-17.
He had kissed her like he really meant it. And then he had bolted.
Robin chewed her thumbnail distractedly. Dale Michaels was sex on a stick, but he had trust issues as wide as the Grand Canyon. And she had never been a rock climber. All of this was beyond her. For Christ’s sake, she had never even been in a proper relationship. Sure, she’d had plenty of sex. Mostly good, with guys she’d met at gigs. But the intimacy that had suddenly sprung to life between her and Dale was intense. She didn’t quite know how she should handle it.
She took a deep breath. He wanted them both to forget it. So, that’s what she would do. She knew the score. She always had.
13
Robin stared out the tiny plane window, watching desert sands undulating thousands of miles below. It looked like a giant lake, as if the sand was water, rippling and swirling. It was trippy. Once again, she pinched herself. She was in a tiny sardine can in the air, hurtling toward a place she had only ever seen on a map.
She patted the passport in her hoodie pocket. It had cost a mint, but Damien, one of her fellow Deep Web hackers, had come through for her. She had never met him, of course. They only communicated online. A part of a select group of hackers who supported each other when the need arose.
She stared around the private jet. Dale was in the seat in front of her, working on his laptop. On the other side was Audra, also typing away. Mason was in fro
nt of Audra, staring pensively out the window. She had heard all about his wife and kids. It must be hard being away from them for so long, she thought, staring at the man. Mason was a good guy. She could always tell. It was as if her antennae were finely attuned after so many years on the streets. She could almost smell a bad one from a mile off.
“Mr. Michaels.” The pilot’s voice crackled over the intercom. “Can your passengers please fasten their seat belts? We are approaching Marrakech Menara Airport and starting our descent.”
Robin felt the plane suddenly dip a little. This was it. Soon, she would be stepping onto foreign soil for the first time in her life. All the others did as the pilot instructed, shutting down their laptops and clicking on their seat belts. Robin sighed, doing the same.
“All ready?” Dale had turned around in his seat, staring at her. “You have everything we need? We will be going through customs soon.”
“All good,” she replied. He turned back to the front.
Robin leaned down, taking her purse out of her backpack. She had already checked a thousand times, but she needed to be sure. She opened the coin compartment, staring at the unfamiliar coins. Dale had taken it very seriously. They were dirham coins, the local currency in Morocco.
She picked one up, turning it over in her hand. This one was worth five dirhams and had a picture of the King of Morocco on one side and the arms of the kingdom on the other. It looked like a regular coin, albeit one she wasn’t familiar with.
But this one, and five others in her purse, were not regular coins at all. Only she could tell the difference. It had been her idea, after all. She had heard of it around the traps. It was the way spies used to smuggle microfilm across borders.
Dale had been elated when she had suggested it to him, calling her a genius. And now, she had all the information she needed to set up shop in Morocco at her fingertips. All the information she required was on encrypted micro SD cards, hidden in these specially milled hollow coins. She grinned. She just had to remind herself not to pay for a drink with one of them once they were through customs.
The plane dipped again. She put the coin back in her purse, snapping it closed decisively. She couldn’t help the small stab of excitement which shot through her. It was almost showtime.
* * *
Robin dropped her backpack and rubbed her neck ruefully, staring out the long, arched window at the city beyond it. This was insane. She had never seen a place like it.
Marrakech. They had sped through the city streets in a rented air-conditioned car, driven by a man in a kaftan and skull cap who had introduced himself as Mohammed. Her eyes had almost popped out of her head as she had stared out the darkened window. The streets were narrow and clogged with traffic; camels, donkeys, and pedestrians wove in between cars constantly sounding their horns, along with rickety old carts. There were stalls lining them, overflowing with lanterns and rugs. And so many food stalls. It was colorful and vibrant—almost a sensory overload.
The place they were staying in was old, and in the old part of the city. The Medina. It was like a red brick adobe rectangle, called a riad, with two stories and arched windows throughout. In the middle was a courtyard with a water fountain as its central point. They had quickly bagged their rooms and gone their separate ways to rest for a while. It was midafternoon, and the heat was intense.
Robin peeled off her hoodie, throwing it into the corner of the room. She doubted she would be wearing it again while she was here. And her black jeans and T-shirt were already slick with sweat. She frowned. She might have to go shopping and grab some more suitable clothes for the climate.
She picked up her backpack again, checking her purse. All there still. They had gotten through customs without an eyebrow raised.
A knock. She sighed, striding to the door and opening it. It was Dale. He looked like he had just walked out of the shower. His thick brown hair was wet, and he was wearing a loose cotton top and pants.
“I barely recognize you out of a suit,” she said slowly, her eyes traveling over him.
He smiled. “This is a lot cooler,” he said. “You can’t wear suits and ties in this climate. Not if you want to breathe, that is.” He paused, studying her. “You look like you are about to implode. Black isn’t good in this heat.”
“I’m finding that out quickly,” she said, walking back into the room. “I’ll pick up a few things when I get to a market.” She stared back at him. “We are going to need to reconstruct the systems ASAP. Do you know how you’re going to find what I need?”
He nodded. “Mason and I will find what you need. Don’t worry.” He paused. “The coins are safe?”
“Of course.” She stared at him. “I told you I knew what I was doing. They didn’t even bat an eyelid. All safe and sound in my purse.”
He nodded, lingering near the doorway. “You should have a shower and freshen up. And then rest. We’ll go out for food later and plan our attack.” He smiled slightly. “Welcome to Marrakech.”
She grinned. He left, closing the door firmly behind him.
Robin could feel sweat trickling in a steady stream down her back. He was right. A shower would be exactly what the doctor ordered. If she didn’t get out of these clothes soon, she would have to peel them off.
* * *
Robin toweled her hair as she walked back into the room, wearing an old tattered dressing gown she had picked up in a thrift shop years ago. It was light, at least.
In the distance she could hear a warbling voice through loud speakers. She smiled, staring out the window. Was it the Muslim call to prayer? She had read that it was observed in Marrakech. It sounded so exotic.
You’re not in Kansas anymore, Dorothy, she thought to herself excitedly. Not by a long shot.
Suddenly, she noticed a brown bag, resting against a wall near the door. Puzzled, she walked over to it. Peering in, she smiled as she pulled out a woman’s long dress. It was pale blue cotton, with batwing sleeves and a tiny sequin embellishment along the neckline. And nestling below it was a shawl of a slightly darker blue.
There was a note. Until you can get to the markets, you might be more comfortable in this. D.
Her smile widened, tears pricking behind her eyes. She had never owned anything like this in her life. It wasn’t her usual style at all—she couldn’t even remember the last time she had worn a dress.
But it was also the first gift anyone had ever given her.
14
Robin fanned herself with a newspaper folded in half as she followed Dale through a narrow street. She had just avoided colliding with a donkey and tripping over a pair of children squatting against a wall. She had said sorry and they had merely flashed wide, white smiles at her. Did they understand the word? She really should try to learn a few basic phrases in Arabic. It was only polite, she guessed.
Dale was striding ahead, weaving his way through the labyrinthine alleys as if he owned them. They were exploring a souk, an Arabic bazaar, near the Place Djemma el Fna in the heart of the old city. Robin frowned, trying to keep up with him. Damn those long legs of his, she thought sourly. They had been walking for over an hour, and she was tired. And hot. She didn’t think she’d ever been hotter in her life. It was as if she was literally boiling internally.
She exhaled through her nose, like a bull. She knew she just had to get over it. And besides, it was an amazing experience. She stared at the stalls, lined with huge baskets of earthen-colored spices, jars of preserved lemons and olives, and carts of fresh fruit and vegetables. There were a million things, all crammed into tight spaces, almost tumbling onto the road. Some she could barely put a name to.
“Hey!” she yelled suddenly, to get his attention.
Dale stopped, turning back to stare at her bemusedly. “Did you want to look at something?”
She caught up with him. “Where exactly are we heading? You seem to be running some marathon I didn’t get an invite to.”
He flashed a smile. “You’ll see. Follow me.”
<
br /> He took off again. Robin sighed, staring at him. She saw his head above the crowd for a minute before it seemed to swallow him up. She bolted. If she wasn’t quick, she was going to lose him entirely.
* * *
A spectacle seemed to have overtaken the square in the Djemma el Fna by the time they reentered it. A snake charmer, clutching his wooden pipe, was playing a tune to entice his charge from a woven basket in front of him. Robin ducked as a fire-eater threw flames into the crowd. The sound of throbbing drums and bells permeated the air.
“What the …” She stopped, gazing around in amazement.
Dale, seeing her confusion, laughed. “It’s carnival time. As soon as it starts to get dark, this square is transformed.” His smile widened. “I’ve been to Marrakech before.”
“It’s like a circus on acid,” she said slowly, staring around. “A bit freaky, but good.” Her stomach growled as the aroma of grilling chicken kebabs hit her from a street stall. “But can we take a break? I’m parched, and my feet are sore.”
“Almost there.” He took off again.
They left the square, and he entered a small darkened restaurant. Robin gazed around her. It was beautiful. Multicolored Moroccan tea lamps hung from the ceiling, and there were large, silk-covered cushions on the floor, surrounding low tables. The owner led them to one, and they sat down on cushions opposite each other.
“Have you been here before?” She stared at him. “You seemed pretty definite as to where we were going.”
He nodded. “Many years ago. I’m pleased to see it’s still here.” He smiled. “You are going to enjoy this, Robin. Authentic Moroccan cuisine.”
Robin smiled, but inside she wasn’t so sure. Yes, she enjoyed kebabs at home, but this was different. Strange smells emanated from the kitchen. She shrugged. She was so damn hungry she would probably start gnawing on her own arm if she didn’t eat soon. It had been a long time since the pastry she’d wolfed down at breakfast.
Chasing the Cure Page 6
