Midnight Promises (Midnight series)

by Lisa Marie Rice

  Two minutes to deadline.

  She was alone in the middle of the snowy square. Metal and his teammates were all around her, observing her every move, but she couldn’t see them. All she could see was the expanse of snow-covered brick, some trees and a few blocky buildings. Across the street was a lit building, looking warm and welcoming. For a second she longed to be in that building. Inside was her place, not out in the blowing wind.

  One minute to deadline.

  But she was here now and Al’s fate was in her hands. She wasn’t going to let him down. Not now, not ever.

  Thirty seconds.

  A gust of wind blew snow in her eyes and she closed them for a moment and continued walking. She didn’t want to give Borodin even the faintest excuse to bail.

  Or shoot.

  Deadline.

  “Stop, honey,” Metal said in her ear. She stopped, far from the curb.

  A man walked out of the misty snow. Tall, elegant, an ushanka, a fur hat with fur flaps over the ears, on his head. The man in the brochure. The CEO of Intergaz. Vladimir Borodin.

  “Tell him to show he is unarmed.”

  “Show me that you come unarmed, as you promised,” she said in English.

  “But of course, Darinova,” he answered in Russian. He took off his elegant topcoat, folded it neatly over his arms. Underneath he was wearing a black sweater which fit tightly enough to show that he wasn’t carrying a weapon. To her untrained eyes it looked as if he didn’t have a bulletproof vest, either. Reaching slowly, he put his hands in his pockets and pulled them inside out, so that they hung from his hips. He held his arms high as he turned slowly around.

  “Ankles,” Metal said.

  “Ankles,” she repeated.

  With a slow dip of his head, he lifted first one pant leg then another.

  “Hat,” Metal said.

  “Ushanka,” Felicity repeated and Borodin doffed his hat, showing her the empty interior.

  “May I put my coat and hat back on?” he asked politely. “This isn’t as cold as Moscow in winter but still, I am uncomfortable.”

  A shot of rage went through her. “I don’t care if you are uncomfortable,” she said. “Where is Al Goodkind?”

  “Special Agent Goodkind?” Borodin lifted a sardonic brow. “He is well.”

  “You beat him half to death!”

  Borodin chuckled. “Hardly, duschka. Clearly you have led a sheltered life. He is fine. And he is close.”

  “Don’t you dare call me sweetheart! You’re a monster!”

  They were close now, five feet apart. Borodin took a step forward.

  Without Metal saying anything she stepped back. “Don’t come near me.”

  Borodin tilted his head. “Fine. I’ve stopped, see?” He was standing with his feet braced, unmoving. “So, do you want to see your dear friend?”

  “Yes.”

  Borodin suddenly lifted his right hand, fist clenched. A sign. If his men saw that through the snow they were using binoculars. Or maybe they had thermal imagers like Metal’s team had. “I am sure you are surrounded by men. Armed men. My vehicle is coming and inside is Special Agent Goodkind. So please do not shoot.”

  Felicity didn’t bother denying that she had men behind her. Out of the corner of her eye she could see a vehicle slowly making its way down the street.

  “All I want is to ask you a few questions, Darinova.” He had his coat and hat back on and stood relaxed, open hands by his side. He didn’t have gloves on. Neither did she and she was starting to regret that. In the rush she hadn’t even thought of gloves. Or a hat.

  Borodin stared at her, then he lifted his hand, elegant and long-fingered and curled his fingers in the universal gesture come to me.

  He wasn’t threatening in any way but she felt her chest tighten, panic reaching its fingers into her. Dread consumed her and she felt as if one step forward would seal her doom. “What do you want from me?” Her voice was weak. She found it hard to breathe. “I don’t know anything. What could I possibly tell you?”

  Borodin shrugged and took a step forward, as if to hear her better. He glanced sharply to his left, where the van was arriving, slowly, rolling to a stop more than braking to a stop.

  “There you are wrong, duschka. There is much you can tell me. And, of course, you will.”

  Oddly, he brought something out of the top pocket of his elegant overcoat. In the snowy mist, Felicity couldn’t figure out what it was. It certainly wasn’t a weapon. He reached up to his head and cupped his ears. At the same time, something rose from the van fifty feet away, a flat cylinder, like a gigantic coin, with a man wearing earphones behind it. It swung around toward the square...

  “LRAD!” Metal screamed in her ear and then pain gripped her entire body.

  Her head pounded with the pulsing pain, her brains were beating against her skull. She fell to her knees, agony in every cell of her body, then fell to the snowy ground, curling up in the fetal position, though nothing staved off the excruciating pain. She turned and retched miserably, holding her head with her hands as if to stop her head from exploding. She’d never felt pain like this before, it took over her entire being.

  Dimly, as if from some other planet, two hands gripped her arms and she was lifted up. Her legs folded under her. She couldn’t stand, the pain made it impossible to move her muscles. A heave and she was tossed over a male shoulder. The man started walking quickly toward the street.

  The man...she couldn’t remember the name. She couldn’t remember her name. All she felt was pain and overwhelming nausea. She opened her mouth and bile spilled out as she gave a little cry.

  Nothing made sense, she couldn’t get her bearings, she couldn’t think.

  Then, suddenly, the debilitating nausea stopped and whatever it was that had gripped her body eased away. But she was horribly weak. Something wet coated her neck and when she lifted her hands, they came away bloody. She was bleeding. From where?

  Strong hands grabbed her and tossed her onto something. Something hard. Inside something. She could barely focus. Her head still hurt fiercely, as did her ears. With a huge effort she lifted herself up on an elbow, shaking with the strain. In a box with one side open, slanting snow blown by the wind. A figure in a dark overcoat smiling coolly.

  Borodin! Some of the fog in her head cleared. She was in the back of a van and Borodin was closing the doors. But she was still horribly weak and nauseated. Her head hung down, neck muscles too weak to hold it up.

  Borodin opened his arms wide to bring the doors closed when something dark slammed into him from behind and he fell face-first into the van. Felicity reached out, wanting to hurt him, hit him with something but there was nothing to grab and her muscles weren’t responding. Like someone had severed the connection between mind and body.

  The dark shape reared up, face a bloody mask of rage. Metal! Oh God! Metal had come for her!

  But he was almost as damaged as she was. Throwing Borodin into the van nearly used up all his resources. He was staggering, head down, hands on knees. Barely upright. Borodin hit him on the side of the head with his elbow and Metal staggered even more. Before he could fall down, Borodin leaped out of the van and gave Metal a hard push into the van, lifted his legs in and closed the van door.

  A second later, he climbed into the passenger seat, and turned his face to the driver. Felicity could see his lips move but heard nothing. She couldn’t even hear the engine firing, taken by surprise when the van pulled away fast. Neither she nor Metal had any warning and they bounced around in the back of the van as it sped away, taking corners dangerously fast. There was nothing to hang on to in the van so they rolled with the centripetal force.

  At one particularly tight corner, she slammed her head against the side of the van. Metal reached out and held her tight. He spoke but she couldn
’t hear him.

  They were helpless. Borodin was taking them God knew where and who knew when they would get their strength back? Metal was doing better than her, but barely. At another corner he was able to hold her and brace himself against the wall with his leg but she could feel that he was straining.

  No hope of taking Borodin and the driver by surprise, either, even if Metal was fully functioning. Borodin kept one hand on the back of the seat, face turned to the driver, switching his gaze to them every few seconds. He had a gun in his hand.

  Felicity felt sick all over again. They were trapped. Despite all their precautions, Borodin had outwitted them with some kind of sonic cannon. Would it leave permanent hearing loss? Not that they’d live long enough to worry about that.

  A biting pressure on her wrist and she looked down. Metal was holding his gun. But his hand was trembling. She looked up at his face, grim and pale. Blood stained the sides of his head.

  Then—he winked.

  Oh God! Yes! Maybe there was hope!

  Metal brought one trembling hand up to grasp the wrist of his right hand holding the gun. Her body blocked the view so Borodin couldn’t see them. Metal’s left hand gripped the right so hard his knuckles whitened but the trembling stopped.

  But he couldn’t move fast enough. Borodin’s eyes kept flicking over to them and Borodin had complete use of his senses. He’d had acoustic protection from the sonic cannon.

  Metal was doing his best to be ready for any drop in attention, but it wasn’t coming.

  Then Borodin held a cell phone to his ear and her heart leaped in her chest. He was using Al’s cell! She recognized the phone case—a gift from his granddaughter. Blue with the FBI seal in gold.

  She thumped Metal on the chest to get his attention. They couldn’t whisper and even if they could, they couldn’t hear each other. Metal looked at her, a question in his eyes. She carefully brought out her cell and started thumbing frantically. It was an app a fellow hacker had sent her as a semijoke. Dangerous, in the wrong hands. Hers were definitely the right hands.

  Metal was watching her carefully but she didn’t dare try to signal anything. Sending her cell instructions with trembling hands was using up her entire hard disk. Borodin was speaking but she couldn’t hear anything. Couldn’t hear when he was nearing the end of the conversation. If he finished before she did, all was lost. Metal would never have his chance.

  Borodin was still speaking, attention diverted from them, by the time she’d finished inputting the app. Metal was watching her carefully. Not understanding, but trusting her. She looked up into his eyes, those bright eagle eyes watching her every move. She held a finger up—wait!—pressed the final key and nodded.

  Now!

  She couldn’t hear any sound at all, but she could see. A flash of brilliant light followed by a puff of smoke. Borodin reacting as if he’d received a punch to the head. Blackened flesh appearing on the side of his face. The driver turning his head, reaching out...

  And Borodin’s head exploded and the driver’s head exploded and the van slipped in the snow, bumped over the curb and crashed into a streetlamp.

  Felicity lay on her back, stunned. Everything seemed a million miles away, part of another, remote universe. Was she dead?

  Metal’s rough face, blood streaming from a cut in his forehead, appeared right above her, right where heaven would be. His mouth was open, lips forming a word, over and over again. Dreamily, Felicity reached up and cupped the side of his face. She smiled at him. Or did she? It was hard to tell what she was doing. And maybe it didn’t make any difference, if she was dead.

  She drifted off then came to again as she was violently shaken. Metal, mouth opening and closing. A faint noise came to her from a faraway place.

  Her name?

  Metal pulled her up and into his arms, his mouth close to her ear. She could hear a little more clearly now. He was shouting her name, but it felt like he was on another continent.

  Faces appeared in the van’s open doorway. Snow was blowing into the back of the van, falling on her face. Her skin felt cold.

  Two men in police uniforms. Three other men, men she knew. But she couldn’t remember their names. All three of the men, men she knew she knew but couldn’t remember their, names looked pale and battered, with trickles of blood on the sides of their faces.

  Hands reached out for them, but Metal shook them off. He pulled away and held her by the shoulders so she could see his face.

  He yelled something at her.

  “What?”

  “I love you!” he shouted, holding her tightly.

  “I love you too!” she screamed back.

  They toppled to the side in each other’s arms.

  Epilogue

  Portland Memorial Hospital

  The next day, Kay peeked into the room then pulled her head back. “He’s awake!” she said excitedly to Felicity.

  Metal had his arm around Felicity’s shoulder and they both shuffled forward. They’d spent the night in the hospital and had been released an hour ago. They hadn’t left the hospital yet, just traveled up two floors.

  The police had sequestered the LRAD, the Long Range Acoustic Device mounted to the roof of the van. It had beamed over 160 dB at them, well over the threshold of pain. Felicity and Metal would suffer slight but permanent hearing loss. Jacko, John and Douglas had been far enough away to feel the pain but would have no long-lasting effects.

  They were all a little dinged but Felicity knew they were fortunate to be alive.

  Borodin and his driver were dead and the FBI had found Al in a private jet, duct-taped to a chair, watched over by three guards who were never going to see the light of day ever again.

  One of them was the man who had attacked her at the airport and it pleased her no end to know that he would be jailed for the rest of his natural life.

  What the CEO of Intergaz wanted with her was still a mystery.

  However, they were all alive. Big plus.

  Al was sitting up in bed, a huge lopsided grin on his face. One side of his face was relatively normal, the other side swollen and discolored. The bruises on his face were turning yellow and green and he looked awful, but he was smiling at them. He hugged Kay, kissed the side of her face, then held his hand out to Felicity.

  She rushed to hug him. “Oh, Al! I’m so glad you’re alive!” Tears welled in her eyes. “I’m so very sorry. This is all because of me. I have no idea what that man wanted but I am so sorry you were caught in the middle.”

  He hugged her back. He smelled of disinfectant and soap and old man and he felt absolutely wonderful.

  Al glanced at the other man in the room, standing discreetly in a corner, hands folded over his crotch. He wore an ill-fitting black suit, white shirt, black tie and a curly wire running from his ear down into his collar. He had FBI practically tattooed on his forehead and he was there to protect Al. Felicity would have kissed him, except his head would probably explode.

  “Any news?” he asked the man.

  “No, sir.” The man shook his head. “But there is a lot of diplomatic maneuvering because Russia cannot explain how it is that one of their leading businessmen found himself in Portland with a team of former Spetsnaz soldiers kidnapping an American woman and a federal agent. Lot of fallout, none of it good for them.”

  Al nodded sharply, then winced.

  Metal grabbed a chair, placed it close to Al’s bedside and practically carried Felicity to it. “Sit,” he said. She took off her backpack, set it on the floor and plopped down in the chair. She would have bristled at his commanding tone, but it felt really good to sit down. The doctors said it was going to take some time for her to completely recover. For both of them to. Maddeningly, though, Metal showed very few signs of strain. She on the other hand looked like she’d just come back from a particula
rly long and vexing war.

  She’d have time to recover, all the time she wanted. And as of today, she was on ASI’s payroll with a fabulous salary and benefits and strict instructions not to put her nose in the office for another month.

  Al held her hand and looked at them. At her, Kay, Metal and FBI guy in the corner.

  “I have an idea what they were looking for,” he said softly.

  Electricity crackled in the air.

  “What?” Metal asked.

  Felicity opened her mouth and closed it. Looked at Al’s kindly, lived-in face. A face that had known sorrow and that knew how to keep secrets. She looked deeply into his sad brown eyes and knew.

  There were secrets there. Her life was one long secret. She’d grown up in the shadows of so much kept hidden, so much unspoken. Hidden things poisoning her family, casting long shadows.

  “Al?” she whispered.

  Understanding that something was happening, Metal placed himself right behind her chair and put a hand on her shoulder. She reached up to touch his hand. Knowing in a deep part of her that she would always have that hand on her shoulder from now on.

  Al fidgeted, trying to change the position of his pillows. Metal left her side, arranged the pillows and lifted Al bodily so he could sit comfortably. Then Metal came back to her, standing behind her, strong and solid.

  “Thanks,” Al said wryly. “Time was when I could do that for myself.”

  “Al.” Felicity’s throat was suddenly tight. “Is there something I should know?”

  He sighed. “I don’t quite know. It all comes back to your family. Your father was a brilliant man, Felicity. But complicated.”

  She nodded.

  “When he defected, there were rumors he was working on something brand-new. Something revolutionary for the time.”

  “In terms of nuclear weapons?” Felicity’s heart was pounding. Metal’s fingers tightened on her shoulder.

  “Yes. There were a lot of rumors in the community of physicists that your father had made a breakthrough. But that he was conflicted about it.”