Kit drew in a painful breath. She wanted this baby more than life itself. Her gray eyes mirrored the turmoil she was experiencing. “But if I had to work, Doctor, wouldn’t it be better now rather than later? I mean, wouldn’t my chances of a miscarriage rise if I were farther along in my pregnancy?”
Ann Whitten nodded, placing the clipboard on her desk. “The farther along you are, Kit, the greater the chance that you may have to opt for total bed rest until your baby’s born.”
Silence engulfed them while Kit mulled over her limited options. “Doctor, there are certain things I have to do in the next couple of months. I don’t have a choice.”
Dr. Whitten handed her the prescription. “There are always choices, Kit. If you want to carry your baby to full term, you’ll have to do something to alter the work you feel has to be done.”
Kit touched her brow, anguish filling her heart. If they didn’t capture Garcia and Dante, her life would be worthless. Dante had fled the U.S., jumping bail and escaping to Colombia but leaving a contract out on Kit, according to the undercover agent trailing him. She stole a look over at the kind doctor’s face. “You’re right,” she whispered. “I’ll do the best I can.” Kit slid off the table and stood. Picking up her purse, she decided to visit Chuck Cordeman. Only he could help her now.
“What the hell are you doing here?” Cordeman demanded as Kit walked into his office.
“We have to talk, Chuck,” she announced without preamble. “Let’s go into one of the interrogation rooms.”
Cordeman reluctantly pushed his football-shaped body out of the dilapidated chair. “You look like hell,” he observed.
Kit gave him a bitter smile. “Thanks for the compliment.”
Cordeman walked like no one else Kit had ever seen. He seemed to list from side to side. As they moved down a long, poorly lit hallway, she wondered if he would ever get seasick. Probably not, because of the way he mimicked a ship bobbing on the ocean. Chuck was used to that kind of motion.
“Okay, what’s so important that you’ve broken your cover by coming here?” Chuck demanded, pointing to one of two chairs in the small, barren room as he shut the door.
Kit sat down, facing her old boss. “I need some information, Chuck.”
“About what?”
“When is Garcia going to move his mother ship?”
He shrugged. “We’ve got an undercover agent in place and we’re hoping to find out soon.”
Her heart pounded heavily in her breast. “I’ve got to know.”
Cordeman regarded her darkly. “What’s going down, Kit? You look like death warmed over. In fact, you look worse than when you left us. What’s Trayhern doing? Working you too hard?”
She bit her lower lip. “No, Chuck. It isn’t Noah. I—” She swallowed hard. “Make me a promise?”
His face softened slightly. “What’s wrong, Kit? You’re shaking.”
“I need a promise from you first, Chuck,” she said, desperation in her voice.
“Okay, okay, I promise. What is it?”
Kit fought back her tears. “Chuck, I’m four months pregnant with Noah’s child, and there’s a contract out on my head. I know the odds are in Dante’s favor of finding me sooner rather than later.” She reached out, gripping his meaty hand. “Promise me you’ll tell no one about my condition,” she rushed on. “I’ve got to help find Dante and Garcia before they get to me first.”
Chuck’s face betrayed his emotion. His eyes grew round and he stared at her in disbelief. “Oh, God,” he muttered. And then he got heavily to his feet, giving her a sorrowful look. “Ah, Kit, why now? Pregnant? Of all the bad timing—”
She blinked back the tears. “Okay, so it was lousy timing, dammit! I didn’t plan this, Chuck. It was an accident. But I can’t help that now.”
His eyes grew squinty. “Does Trayhern know?”
“No, and he’s not going to find out, either. If he knew, he’d never let me continue to participate in Operation Storm.”
Cordeman snorted vehemently. “He’d pack your rear out of Dade County so fast it’d make your head spin. He’s protective as hell.”
“And getting me out of Dade isn’t going to improve my chances of surviving, Chuck. You and I both know that. And you need me to identify Garcia.” Kit rubbed her face tiredly. “That’s why I ask you, when is Garcia going to make his move? The sooner the better.”
“Yeah, no kidding. Damn, Kit, this is bad.”
“No one’s more aware of that than I am.”
“You’re not the narc detective I used to know,” he muttered, shaking his head sadly. “You’re not the tough broad who could be counted on to carry anything through with success. Kit, you’ve changed.” And then he added, “For the better. You’re more feminine. More—” Words failed him, and he shifted to his official tone. “Okay,” he muttered gruffly, “what do you want me to do? Where are we going with all these confessions?”
Kit gave him a wobbly smile. “The original plan was for me to board the mother ship in search of Garcia and Dante.”
“After the scum has been rounded up,” he put in.
“But there could be firefights on the mother ship, Chuck. I don’t want my baby exposed to gunfire.”
“We’re bringing several decoy craft piloted by DEA agents into the bay during the trading. They’ll be taking the names and registry of drug-buying ships so we can hunt them down later. Knowing Garcia the way I do, I’m betting he won’t be on board the Marie-Elise during the buying. He’ll play it smart and be on a smaller boat hanging somewhere around the bay. How about if you stay on one of our DEA decoys? I’ll be boarding the Marie-Elise as soon as the bust goes down. I can get in touch with you by radio once we’ve got everything secured and then you can come on board.”
“That sounds better,” Kit answered, relief in her voice. Then she frowned and rubbed her temples, hating herself momentarily. “The last thing I want to do is hold off telling Noah about the baby—” she glanced over at Chuck “—but until Dante and Garcia are identified and behind bars, I’m still on their hit list.”
“I understand. You been to a doctor yet?”
She got up, pushing her fingers through her hair in an aggravated motion. “Yes. She said something about me having a tipped uterus and that I stand a good chance of losing my baby if I don’t get off my feet soon.”
Cordeman grimaced. “Damn, Kit—”
Her eyes were dazed with fatigue. “I don’t have a choice, Chuck. I just hope Garcia makes his move soon.”
He grunted, getting to his feet. “Makes two of us. Well, come on, let’s get you home. You really look wiped out.”
Kit walked over and put her arm around Chuck’s sloped shoulders. “Thanks,” she whispered, meaning it.
He gave her a thin smile. “For what? If Trayhern finds out I knew you were pregnant and didn’t pull you out of this operation, he’ll put a contract out on me.”
Kit’s heart wrenched at the sound of Tripoli’s joyous bark. Noah was home. She glanced at the wall clock: 9:00 p.m. Scrubbing the potato with renewed nervous energy, she thought, God, give me the strength to lie to him. Please, please don’t let him see I’m not telling him the whole truth. I have to carry this off! For all of us….
Noah ambled into the kitchen, a smile on his handsome face. “Are you feeling better?” he asked, coming over to the sink and placing his arms around her.
Kit trembled, shutting her eyes, biting back the words that wanted to flow from her heart. “Better,” she said in a strained voice. It was unlike Noah to embrace her like this, but she understood, needing his strength right now.
“Mmm, you smell like jasmine,” Noah whispered seductively rocking her gently in his arms. “And you look a hundred percent improved from this morning.”
“I just took a bath.” That wasn’t a lie. She raised her head. Was any man as strong or compassionate as Noah? Her lips parted in unspoken joy as she saw the corners of his mobile, sensual mouth turn up as he gazed dow
n at her. And his eyes…oh, God, she could be forever lost in their changing sea color. Kit saw tenderness in the golden flecks mingled with the green and felt her heart melting with unparalleled joy. The words I love you wanted to tear from her. Kit closed her eyes, fighting them back, fighting everything back.
“What did the doctor say?” he asked, splaying his long fingers down her back, gently following the curve of her spine.
Kit took a deep, ragged breath, feeling her heart rip in two, screaming to be released from the bondage of a secret that must be kept buried deeply within her. “She said I was anemic.”
Noah eased his embrace, studying her. “How anemic?”
She shrugged, making light of it. “Enough to put me on some iron pills for a while.”
“What about the nausea? Anemia doesn’t cause that, does it?”
Kit’s heart pounded violently to underscore her loathing to betray Noah. “No,” she murmured, closing her eyes so that he couldn’t see the lie. “She said it was an inner ear imbalance and that nothing could be done about it.”
Noah stroked her silky hair, disgruntled. He studied her troubled features. “Could you use some good news then?”
Hurting inwardly at deceiving him, Kit whispered, “Something…anything…”
Noah traced the clean line of her jaw. It was so easy to become lost within the facets of Kit’s face. She had a wonderful bone structure, wide-set eyes that were now shadowed with pain and seriousness. Her mouth was one of her most beautiful features, Noah thought. And he hungered to kiss her. He roused himself from his torrid reverie and realized that Kit was waiting for him to answer her.
“We had just pulled into the dock when we got word from the undercover agent in Colombia that the Marie-Elise had heaved anchor. She’s in the Gulf of Darien. From the looks of it, she’s heading in the direction of the Windward Passage choke point. It’s a little early to confirm that yet, but right now it appears to be her bearing.”
Kit’s knees jellied. “The Marie-Elise is—”
Noah watched her cheeks stain with color. “Yeah, Operation Storm is in full gear.”
Her prayer had been answered! Kit gasped. “When do we go to the Osprey?”
“I’ve got my crew outfitting her right now. It means a number of days at sea.” Noah’s features grew worried. “Are you sure you’ll be able to take this? It’s going to be rough.”
Sinking against him, Kit buried her face in his chest. “I’ll do whatever it takes, Noah,” she whispered. “I just want this part of my life wrapped up.”
Noah felt the urgency in her voice, understanding. “I know,” he soothed. Holding her away from him, his voice grew husky. “And just as soon as this damned operation is ended, Kit, you and I have some serious talking to do.”
She drowned in the darkness of his eyes. There was unspoken warmth in them. “Yes,” she said faintly, “we’re going to have a long talk….” Now, if only Noah would agree to go along with Chuck’s change in plans, she and her baby would be safe. Safe for a future she would die to protect.
“There’s been a change in plans, Lieutenant.” Cordeman’s face was shadowed as he stood at dockside, close to the Osprey.
Kit stole a glance at Noah’s scowling features. The lighting carved his face into harsh planes.
“What change, Cordeman?” he growled, standing close to Kit.
For a second Cordeman’s gaze locked with Kit’s. There was a silent exchange and then he broke contact, directing his attention to the officer. “I want Kit safe on the Guayama. It’s one of our DEA decoy boats that will be tooling around in the bay, getting names and the registry of the dealer doing business. You’ll transfer Kit over before pulling into Cap Haitien, which is where Garcia is headed. I’m sending Barnes, one of our narc agents, with her. There’s no way in hell I want her life jeopardized on this mission.”
Noah’s mouth relaxed slightly. “For once we agree on something, Cordeman. You feel Garcia’s going to be in a boat hovering near the Marie-Elise?”
“That’s right. So Kit can use the binoculars to check out the smaller craft, and stay safe.”
Nodding, Noah looked toward the Osprey. It was nearly one in the morning and time to go. “I like the idea.”
Kit started to sway, but caught herself. Relief surged through her as the three of them walked toward the ship. Dawn would bring the confrontation with Garcia. Soon the showdown would come. Shoring up her broken emotions, Kit walked up the plank and stepped onto the Osprey. Hurry, she prayed. Hurry and get this over with….
A bloodred dawn greeted Kit’s eyes as she moved up the steel steps toward the bridge of the Osprey. Kit found Noah, Cordeman, Edwards and Barnes hunkered over a map spread across the console.
Noah glanced up, his heart wrenching with anxiety. Kit looked ethereal in the dawn’s light. “Things are firmed up,” he told her. “Come and join us.”
Chuck nodded in her direction, a question in his eyes. Kit forced a slight smile for his benefit, wedging herself between Noah and him.
“What’s going on?” she asked, her voice still husky with sleep.
Noah pointed to the map, circling the area. “The Marie-Elise has dropped anchor in a cove near Cap Haitien.” His voice betrayed his aggravation. “Garcia wasn’t stupid. The bay is shallow, with little room to maneuver a larger ship. It means that the Sea Eagle and the Osprey are going to have to choke off the only escape route in or out of the bay. They’ll barricade the entrance by positioning the cutters horizontally across it. We aren’t going to be able to sail into the bay at all.”
A sheen of perspiration showed on Noah’s hardened features as he studied the map with fierce intensity. Kit realized timing was critical to capturing the Marie-Elise and the drug dealers like fish in a net. A shiver shot down her spine and she tried to throw off the cape of dread that settled around her drawn shoulders.
“It’s going to be vital that Kit be able to find Garcia,” Cordeman said. “With the shallow waters, I’m positive that the bastard will be aboard a smaller boat.”
Straightening, Noah studied Kit. “The Guayama is already alongside. We’ll transfer you and Barnes now, and then Henri Galera, the DEA agent, will take you into the bay. After you’re in there, we’ll wait until he calls us to take our position to trap all of them.”
“Fine,” Kit said. She told the crew on the bridge goodbye, and then Noah took her arm, leading her to the lower deck.
Like everyone else, Kit wore a flak jacket and a shoulder holster. The sun had just peeked over the horizon, sending shafts of glaring light across the choppy waters. The tension she felt in Noah put her on edge.
“It will be over soon,” she told him.
“No one’s happier about it than me,” he confided. Stopping at the ladder, he pointed toward a small tug that bobbed beside them. “The Guayama.”
The small boat was nothing more than a rusty scow sitting high in the water. Kit saw a black man at the wheel, who waved up at them. “Not much to it, is there?”
“No.” Noah turned Kit around, his hands on her shoulders. He didn’t give a damn who saw them at that instant. Fear hovered around him, and he couldn’t shake the feeling. He wasn’t sure if it was for him or Kit. “Listen, you be damn careful, Kitten,” he rasped, holding her gaze.
“I’ll be very careful, darling.”
His face relaxed slightly. He couldn’t kiss her. He couldn’t tell her he loved her—yet. There was a slight tremble to his voice. “Stay safe. We’ve got everything to live for.”
Barnes came walking up. Kit couldn’t hide her disappointment. She had wanted to kiss Noah one last time. But that was impossible now. “I’ll see you when this is all over, Noah. Please, you be careful.”
Releasing her arms, Noah stepped back. He gave her a warm smile meant only for her. “Very careful, Kitten.”
Turning away, Kit stepped distractedly down the steel ladder and took Galera’s waiting hand.
“Welcome aboard, Detective Anderson.”
Kit stepped aside, allowing Barnes to board. “Thank you, Henri.” Her eyes lifted upward, and she saw Noah standing far above them, silhouetted by the growing light, his face grim. Anguish overwhelmed Kit. Out of habit, she touched her stomach. Was it because she was pregnant that she was more fearful than usual? Dread stalked her. Every time she felt that ugly sensation crawling through her, it meant danger.
“Cast off!” Galera ordered Barnes, who released the lines to the Osprey.
A lump formed in Kit’s throat. She raised her hand. Noah raised his in return. Tears blurred his stalwart figure and Kit turned away, no longer able to stand the pain of their separation. Heading to the bridge, where Galera was, Kit wanted to focus all her attention on the forthcoming bust. Her life, the life of her baby and Noah’s, depended on it.
“There they are,” Henri said grimly as they moved into the shallow cove.
The Marie-Elise was anchored as close to the shoreline as possible, lying heavy in the water. Clusters of boats bobbed next to one another at the ship’s starboard side as huge bales of marijuana were crane-hoisted onto the smaller ones.
Kit counted at least fifty smaller boats in the cove. Taking the binoculars, she began to scan the Marie-Elise. She heard Henri make a call to alert both Coast Guard cutters to come in and close off escape from the bay. In half an hour they would arrive on station, and then all hell would break loose.
“Man, they’re doing a booming business,” Henri said with a chuckle. His skin glistened with perspiration.
People in ragtag outfits of gaily colored shirts and jeans were running up and down metal stairs at the bottom of the loading platform of the Marie-Elise. “I don’t see Garcia or Dante,” Kit muttered. As soon as one boat was loaded, another zipped up to take its place. Her heart pounded with anxiety as she continued to make a slow, thorough appraisal of each boat near the mother ship. Where were they? She saw flags of all nationalities being flown.
A Question of Honor Page 16
