Princess

by Christina Skye

  Feet raced past outside. Angry shouts echoed across the clearing, followed by a volley of gunshots.

  Something scratched against the door, and Jess leveled the pistol for a second time.

  The door latch moved.

  “Jess, are you there?”

  Her fingers shook. She didn’t answer.

  “Jess, it’s Hawk. I’m outside. Are you okay in there?”

  Relief punched through her, but even then her arm stayed level. Voices could be faked, after all.

  A crack of light outlined the door, widening slowly. Sunlight slanted into Jess’s eyes, blinding her, and she heard the male voice break off in a curse.

  “Are you hurt, honey?” Hawk stepped over the bloody body on the floor of the shed. “Talk to me, Jess.”

  She let her arm fall, keeping the bear tight against her chest. The air felt heavy, and she couldn’t seem to breathe.

  Hawk’s shadow fell over her. “My God, you found Princess.” He knelt beside her on the dusty floor. “Why don’t you let me take her now?”

  Jess couldn’t register what he was saying. As he reached out, the bear pushed closer against her. “No.”

  “Okay, then she goes with you. But we have to move out now.” His voice was absolutely calm, as if bullets weren’t cracking nearby and a man wasn’t lying dead at his feet. “Can you stand up, honey?”

  Jess pushed upright, feeling a stab of pain above her eyes. But the sensation faded as Hawk motioned her to the door, checked outside, then pointed down a muddy path.

  “Go. I’ll be right beside you.”

  Her feet were bare, Jess realized. Her legs hurt.

  Funny, she hadn’t even noticed.

  Hawk glanced across at Jess. Her face was streaked with blood, her clothes torn, her eyes dilated. She was probably in shock, and she looked like hell. But for the moment she was up and mobile, and he couldn’t stop for anything until the bear was safe.

  He flicked the button of his walkie-talkie, scanning the hillside. A Humvee transport was waiting back in the trees, but getting there wasn’t going to be a picnic.

  He tapped Jess’s arm, pointing behind the rusted truck where Ruthie was hidden. Nothing moved around him as Hawk clicked the TRANSMIT button again, this time two quick taps, a prearranged signal to his team to indicate the discovery of their “package.”

  He touched Jess’s shoulder. Her gaze locked on him and he saw her struggle to focus.

  Shock and possibly worse. He couldn’t stop to find out if she was bleeding. He had to get them out of harm’s way.

  With the bear still cradled at her chest, Jess swayed, then followed him over the muddy grass toward the woods.

  As they ran, three members of Izzy’s team emerged from cover, making a human shield with their Kevlar-clad bodies. Without a word, the group ran in a tight wedge toward the dark wall of trees. They were only a few feet from safety when they heard Luellen scream.

  Hawk didn’t slow, though he heard Jess’s gasp.

  “Keep going,” he ordered.

  Behind him Emilio Chavez’s shout exploded down the hillside. “Bring the animal to me. If not, the old woman is the next to die. Two bullets in the stomach, slow and painful.”

  “The old woman?” Jess faltered, her eyes cutting to Hawk’s. “He means Izzy.”

  “You have until I reach five,” Chavez shouted, his voice tight with fury. “I begin now.”

  Hawk grabbed Jess’s arm and forced her forward, his face expressionless. There was no sound from Izzy, but Hawk didn’t expect one. The man was a pro and he would have expected nothing different.

  Jess stumbled and Hawk pulled her the last few yards until the shadows closed around them. When she looked up, Hawk saw that her face was wet with tears.

  “One,” Chavez shouted, his voice echoing in the sudden stillness.

  The Hummer was waiting. Two men jumped out, surrounding Jess. One of them reached for the bear, but Hawk shook his head silently. He leaned close to her and touched her cheek. “Go on, honey. Take good care of Princess for me.”

  She nodded, the bear still clutched protectively in her arms. Hawk didn’t stay to see her climb stiffly into their transport. He was already racing through the woods, headed for the slope at the back of Luellen’s trailer.

  chapter 25

  Someone shouted a question. Chavez screamed back.

  “Two,” he cried, the sound a roar over the wind.

  Energy backed up through Hawk’s body as he ran, and every muscle seemed to uncoil, eating up the muddy yards in loose, powerful strides. Heart pumping, he jumped a boulder, cut through waist-high reeds, shot over a fallen log.

  “Three!”

  He sprinted out of the trees at the only point where Chavez wouldn’t see him and slid to a crouch. Chavez was on his left, standing under the big sycamore tree, holding Luellen captive with his left arm. Izzy was six feet away, roped hands caught at his back, guarded by three men with submachine guns.

  “Four, damn it!”

  Hawk went flat against the wall of the smaller shed, pulled a scoped rifle from his webbed vest and laid it on the ground in front of him. He sighted on Luellen with the sniper rifle and aimed carefully.

  Luellen went down, followed by two of the men near Izzy.

  Izzy went down last, red staining his back and neck.

  Grimly, Hawk studied the hillside through his scope, then sprinted past Luellen, who was moaning on the ground a few feet away from the tattered target of her husband’s face, her left shoulder covered by a circle of crimson.

  One of Chavez’s men emerged behind the old truck, and Hawk took him down with a round kick and a hook to the throat.

  Chavez was halfway down the slope, almost to the motorcycles. Shouting curses, he looked back and squeezed five quick shots over his shoulder.

  Hawk felt one of the bullets rip through his side, but he didn’t slow down. Chavez was his second mission priority after rescuing Princess. The man had been hunted over four continents, wanted for terrorist assaults and plutonium smuggling from Istanbul to Bangkok. Hawk’s orders were to bring him in alive or bring him down permanently.

  As Hawk crawled over the muddy slope, hidden by one of the sheds, he heard Chavez cut through the rows of corn. Abruptly, the killer changed direction, veering toward the truck where Ruthie was hidden.

  Hawk shot to his feet. “Here!”

  Gunfire raked the ground around Hawk, and then Chavez dropped back into the corn that swayed in ghostly green trails. He was too much of a professional to lose any time taunting Hawk. Instead he answered with another explosive burst from a Bulgarian-made AK-47.

  Bullets tore through the mud. Hawk returned fire, and his second burst caught Chavez as he rose, cursing, to throw a grenade.

  The grenade spun to the ground, pin unpulled. Chavez staggered and followed it down, his face against the mud. His feet twitched violently and lay still. The wind sighed, slipping through the dark, dancing corn.

  L.Z. whimpered as Hawk sprinted up the hill. The dog had stayed hidden exactly where Izzy had ordered all through the assault, but at Hawk’s call, he bounded out of hiding, fur matted with mud and grass, tail swinging wildly.

  “Good work, pal. Mighty damned fine nose.”

  L.Z. barked once.

  “Yeah, I know. Let’s go deal with it.”

  Luellen was leaning against the sycamore, her arm cradled against her chest, cursing like a stevedore.

  Hawk ignored her, running toward Izzy, who was sprawled flat, motionless near the trailer steps. L.Z. followed and pressed his nose against Izzy’s face, whimpering.

  Hawk scanned the area, then dropped beside Izzy. “Come on, Teague, you big, ugly gorilla. Don’t even think about checking out.”

  Luellen waved her free arm. “You shot me! I’m gonna sue your ass from here to Sunday, buddy.”

  Izzy didn’t move.

  Hawk ran a hand along Izzy’s neck, cursing when his fingers met fresh blood, not the red ink from the paintb
all “bullets” he’d fired at Izzy and Luellen to confuse Chavez. L.Z. butted Izzy with his head and licked his face from one side to the other.

  “Get the hell up.” Hawk’s voice was tight. “Come on. Move it, Teague.”

  “No need . . .” Izzy’s body shook. “No need to kiss me, Navy.”

  Hawk took a sharp breath, and relief left him grinning. “Give it a break, Teague. That’s not me, it’s the wonder dog.”

  Izzy sat up slowly, one hand at the back of his neck. “Must have hit a rock when I fell. My whole head hurts like a bitch.” He squinted at the red stain covering his chest. “Nice shot.” He picked up a big circle of red-stained foam from the ground and tossed it over his shoulder. “Damned breast inserts never work, no matter how much duct tape you use, but they do help pad against a paintball bullet.” He reached down and scratched L.Z. gently between the ears. “Extra dog bones for you tonight.”

  The big Malinois barked excitedly as Izzy stood up and walked down the hill.

  “Hey, what about me?” Luellen called angrily.

  “Ruthie’s in the truck,” Hawk said, walking past her. “She’s safe, but she’s frightened. Go take care of her.”

  “Ruthie?” Luellen looked down the hill, then rubbed at her shoulder, which was covered with red dye from Hawk’s paintball bullets. “You mean, I’m not hurt?”

  “You’ll have a big bruise tomorrow,” Hawk said calmly. “Nothing serious.”

  Luellen shook her head as Izzy dropped his skirt and shawl on the grass, stripped down to spandex biking shorts and a gray T-shirt. “I can’t believe she was—well, a he.”

  “Lately, neither can I,” Hawk muttered.

  Two motorcycles wound through the mud and down the other side of the hill. Three miles later they met up with a black Humvee, following it through the storm-littered town of Bright Creek.

  Jess was in the backseat, Hawk saw. She still had the bear in her arms, and her face was the ashen color of death.

  She’d killed a man today. It was something you never forgot. She’d need help after this. Maybe a lot of help.

  Hawk figured he’d call her sister and fill her in. Even though Jess’s responses had been the right ones, they might not feel that way for a long, long time.

  Hawk knew that from personal experience.

  The Humvee sped past Bright Creek and pulled off the main road onto a gravel drive that appeared to lead exactly nowhere. Beyond a sharp curve, the road opened to a flat expanse of grass that bristled with communications trucks, microwave towers, and several dozen all-terrain vehicles scattered in front of a fenced communication complex.

  Four of the highest-ranking members of the Joint Chiefs and assorted other officials were standing outside, cell phones in hand, and Izzy’s team was lined up around them, along with a dozen government scientists.

  Princess was finally coming home.

  The Humvee stopped. One of Izzy’s men opened the back door and started to help Jess out, but she brushed away his hand and stepped down, frowning. The bear was pressed against her chest, furry head to her shoulder, as Jess walked up the muddy path toward the cluster of people at the top of the hill.

  She was quite a sight, Hawk thought. Her feet were bare, her hair a tangled mass at her shoulders. Her jeans were torn, and a dead man’s blood streaked her legs and face.

  She looked like living, breathing hell.

  All talking ceased. Looking neither right nor left, she walked wearily toward the man who appeared to have the most bars on his chest, while the uniforms parted in a silent path in front of her.

  Tattered and shell-shocked, she managed to look regal, and the men around her straightened, eyes forward, responding as if she were their queen.

  She stopped in front of the Secretary of the Navy, taking a deep breath, cradling the bear with fingers that shook slightly. “I think my friend here belongs to you.”

  Someone began to clap behind her, then others joined in until the whole hillside was filled with the echo of applause.

  Jess seemed startled, glancing around gravely as the Secretary of the Navy joined in the enthusiastic applause. “I didn’t do anything,” she said. “Nothing special.”

  If she wasn’t special, then Hawk didn’t know who was.

  Walking up the path behind her, he grinned at Izzy. “Told you she was going to seriously screw up this op.”

  “Or rescue it.” Izzy high-fived Hawk. “Face it, bro. She got game.”

  Hawk would have liked to stay and congratulate her himself, but he saw his C.O. gesturing at him. There was still work to be done, Hawk knew. He wouldn’t have any personal time for weeks.

  Maybe months.

  He heard the drone of a motor and looked up to see a chopper skimming the trees from the south. He took a long time studying Jess, seeing the determined set to her shoulders and the way she stood, oblivious to her ripped clothes and bare feet. That was one tough, kick-butt lady, he thought. She was nothing like the pampered princess he’d assumed her to be in his shower.

  Which just went to show how worthless first impressions could be.

  The last of his uneasiness vanished as the chopper landed down the hill, and a figure jumped to the ground. Now he knew that Jess was in good hands. The FBI had sent in their best agent as liaison.

  She happened to be Jess’s sister, Summer.

  Izzy tossed his wig into the nearest Jeep and nodded to Hawk. “Let’s reload and then go hunt down the rest of Chavez’s nasty hive.”

  chapter 26

  Northern California

  Four months later

  The beach was deserted. Only a crowd of noisy birds circled, diving for their lunch.

  Jess was tired—and tired of pretending that she was not. But for the last three and a half months she’d kept busy with a passion. She’d cleaned out her old apartment, tossed out all the papers from her hotel career, and moved here to the beach two hours north of San Francisco.

  In the weeks after she’d found the government’s priceless koala bear, she had received messages, phone calls and visits from a dozen quiet, tough Navy men who’d been friends of her father. The whole truth had finally emerged, how they had tried to contact her and her sister after her father’s death, and how her mother had blocked all contact, blaming the Navy for his death. Over the years after that, they had lost track of the two girls.

  Jess frowned at the restless wedge of ocean glittering through the window. In a strange way her mother’s pain and anger made sense. Her father had been involved in Navy intelligence, Jess had learned. Though no one had given her any details, she was certain that he had been meeting someone as part of a covert assignment when he’d died.

  Not on a simple trip to the store for milk, as she and Summer had been told.

  A tough crew of ex–Navy chiefs had stepped in without notice, checking that she was eating enough, sleeping enough, relaxing enough. They didn’t argue or accept any evasions. Instead they took quiet charge, bringing food, carrying boxes and furniture, rotating her tires and washing her Jeep.

  Jess shook her head as the sea wind ruffled her hair. What an amazing thing, to discover a whole set of surrogate fathers when you were grown enough to really appreciate them. Even her sister, low-key as always, was enjoying the impromptu visits and gruff concern. Summer’s husband, the Navy SEAL with the gorgeous body, felt right at home among the crusty crew.

  Jess finished folding a pile of freshly ironed linen napkins and sat down in a rattan chair overlooking the harbor. A lanky teenager was hauling boxes of flowers up from a rusted pickup truck, and the colors made Jess smile with delight. A dozen shades of red smiled back at her. When the teenager saw her looking, he doffed his baseball hat in a quick gesture of chivalry.

  Jess waved back, then lowered her hand to cover her stomach. She took a breath and closed her eyes, enjoying the heat of the sun on her face.

  Trying not to think about shadows or death, about what had been and what would be.

  For now, t
his moment was enough.

  A few minutes later the bell in the front foyer tinkled. A man with graying red hair walked into the hall, carrying a basket of cut roses.

  “More flowers for you. Some man was upstairs painting your door, too.” Her boss was a tall ex-Marine whose gruffness couldn’t hide a marshmallow heart, and Jess loved him dearly. “I asked him why, and he said he was paid, that’s all.”

  Jess felt a flutter in her chest at the latest in a string of unexpected gifts. “What color?”

  “Santa Fe blue. Your favorite color.” Her boss tried to look disapproving. “Another young woman brought a red hammock to hang out in the back under the olive trees.”

  “Dutch, did they say—?”

  “No more than any of the others did. Must be that secret admirer of yours again.”

  Except they both knew that Jess’s admirer wasn’t a secret.

  “About time you got off your feet,” the old soldier muttered, sticking roses in a big porcelain vase by the window. “You were up before dawn fixing the curtains in the dining room and after that you just had to go down and tinker with the Sunday brunch menus.”

  “I’m fine.” Jess hid a yawn. “In fact, I’ve never felt better.”

  Oddly, it was true. Each day she woke up smiling, brimming over with more energy than she’d had in her life. And of course she was eating like a pig. Pretty soon none of her clothes would fit.

  She smiled radiantly at the thought.

  “Never mind that. I’ll stay and fix those flowers, Dutch.” She stretched contentedly.

  “I can manage them just fine.” The ex-Marine had gentle hands for a man who was nearly six, six, and he enjoyed working with them. “Here’s some herbal tea for you.” He set a steaming pot carefully on the table. “Don’t spill it.”

  “I’m not that clumsy.” Jess cleared her throat. “I only spilled something once, and that was because your dog tried to do dog Olympics on my feet.”

  Sudden barking thundered through the first floor of the little hotel, and a black mass of fur and legs roared like an express train down the picture-filled hallway, braking hard and spinning in a circle at Jess’s feet.