by Cindy Dees
“Got it.”
Jagger eased open the kitchen door and, crouching in the dark, made his way behind the big center island. Emily followed close behind. As they paused, silence settled around them for a moment. But then, the noises of movement came from toward the front of the house. Whoever was already in the mansion was making no attempt at stealth.
Jagger raised a hand and started to wave her forward, but his hand froze in midair as a loud voice shouted through a megaphone from out front, “FBI! Lay down your weapons and come out with your hands clasped behind your necks.”
Thank God.
Profound relief washed over Emily that help was here. But as she exhaled in gratitude, another sound caused her to stiffen once more. A voice, speaking in terse German. Giving orders.
She leaned forward and whispered frantically in Jagger’s ear, “He just ordered his men to abandon the mission. They’re to fall back to the kitchen and run for the woods and meet at some rendezvous point. They’re coming right at us!”
Jagger nodded and settled his weapon more securely in his arms. Without him having to say anything, she did the same, fitting the butt of the shotgun firmly against her shoulder.
Running footsteps pounded down the hall. The swinging kitchen door burst open and Jagger shouted in credible German, “Freeze!”
The AbaCo men—six of them—lurched violently to a halt, their weapons trained on the kitchen island. One of them snarled, “Lay down your weapons and get out of our way or we will shoot you both.”
Ohgodohgodohgod…
Michelle. She must hold her ground for her baby. For the man in front of her. For her family.
Jagger snapped back, “Not happening, you Stasi SOB. It’s over. You’re busted.”
The German grinned. “I think not. You’re not FBI. Kill them—”
His command was cut off by the sound of at least a dozen weapons clicking to the ready behind Emily. A new voice spoke calmly. “Nope, they’re not FBI, but we are.”
Emily all but fainted, she was so light-headed with relief.
“Everybody, lay down your weapons slowly.”
Emily complied along with Jagger and the German hit squad before them. As the Germans were straightening back up, one of them reached out fast and flipped on the kitchen lights. He dived for his weapon…
…and was dead before he hit the floor.
The other Germans froze in various bent and crouched postures in the act of reaching for their weapons.
Four FBI agents wearing black Windbreakers raced into the room, flanking the island. Another half dozen came in through the door, spreading out behind Emily and Jagger. From her prone position on the floor, they were just about the prettiest sight she’d seen since Jagger had looked up at her inside his crate.
“Glad you could make it, gentlemen,” Jagger commented from beside her.
“You Jagger Holtz?” someone asked from behind them.
“That’s me. Two more good guys are moving in the other end of the house—a woman and a tall, skinny guy with a beard.”
“Thanks for the invite to this little party. We’re looking forward to talking to you and the woman. That her with you?”
“Yup.”
“Stay put on the floor while we secure these bastards. We’ll get back to you in a minute.”
Emily complied, watching as the FBI team handcuffed and searched the Germans. An arsenal of weapons and gear grew beside the Germans. It took several minutes, but finally the FBI men hauled the AbaCo team to its feet and marched them outside.
One of the FBI men approached Jagger and Emily. “I’m gonna have to search you both. Standard procedure after a firefight. Then you can get up.”
It wasn’t that bad, actually. The guy was fast and impersonal and she fixed an image of Michelle in her mind.
As soon as she was upright, she asked, “Where’s my daughter?”
“We haven’t found any children in the house, ma’am. But the safe room’s locked down. We’re guessing the kids are in there.”
Just then, Laura and Nick were escorted into the kitchen. Laura asked the agent talking to them, “Could someone get some orange juice out of the refrigerator for my friend here? He’s on the verge of passing out.”
Nick did, indeed, look like death warmed over in the room’s bright lights. Laura explained quickly that he’d also been imprisoned on an AbaCo ship, as Jagger had, and furthermore, they had video of his rescue to prove it. The FBI men looked extremely interested, and if Emily wasn’t mistaken, the government agents’ postures relaxed even more toward her and Jagger.
Hope turned into certainty that she and Jagger were going to be okay. They’d gotten the evidence they needed to prove their innocence. Between the four of them, Laura, Nick, Jagger and she should be able to bury AbaCo so deep it never came up for air again.
An agent poured Nick a glass of juice, which he sipped in unadulterated bliss. Jagger made a commiserating sound from beside her and muttered under his breath, “Wait till he gets his first chocolate. The guy’ll think he died and went to heaven.”
She murmured back, “Gee, I thought heaven was that night on Lyle’s beach.”
“You have no idea. Believe me. I knew I’d died and gone to heaven then.”
Laura spoke from across the room. “Can I go open the vault now? Nick wants to meet his son, and I expect Emily and Jagger want to hug their daughter.”
“Now, there’s an understatement,” Emily declared.
Jagger looped his arm around her shoulders and smiled down at her. “Let’s go get our daughter. And remind me to thank Doris every day for the rest of her life for protecting the kids.”
A team of FBI agents trailed along as the party made its way to the front stairs. Laura opened a paneled door and a steel, bank-vault-style door loomed. Emily waited impatiently as Laura entered a lengthy code into an electronic keypad, then grabbed the heavy crossbar and gave a tug. The door cracked open.
“Doris, it’s Laura and Emily and Jagger. We’re out here with a bunch of FBI agents. It’s okay to come out now.”
A light went on just inside the vault as several FBI agents pulled the massive door all the way open. Adam ran out first, straight into his mother’s arms. Nick stared in awe at his son as though he’d never get enough of the sight of the child. Laura glanced up at him worriedly, and then smiled brilliantly.
“Now that you’re home, I guess my days as MysteryMom are over.”
Emily gaped as Doris exclaimed, “You’re Mystery Mom?”
Laura grinned and explained, “I’ve been searching for Nick ever since he first disappeared five years ago. To keep from going crazy while I hunted for him, I started helping other moms find fathers for their children. Their successes kept my own hope alive for one day finding Adam’s father.”
Emily blurted, “You sent me that e-mail about Jagger?”
“I didn’t know it was Jagger, but I’d figured out that AbaCo might be keeping prisoners on ships in international waters. That one container never got off-loaded and always had a weight that didn’t match up with its reported cargo.”
“How did you know to send that e-mail to me, then?” Emily asked.
Doris cleared her throat. “That would be my fault. I contacted MysteryMom to ask her if she could help find Michelle’s father.”
Emily stared. She’d had no idea her mom had done that.
Laura continued, “I hadn’t made any progress at finding Jagger, but I found out you worked at AbaCo and started poking around there. That’s when I spotted the suspicious containers and started tracking them. By the way, in that printout of special cargo you ran for us yesterday, I’ve spotted a half dozen more suspicious containers.”
One of the FBI men commented, “We’ll be happy to look into those. I expect we’ll be looking into a whole lot of AbaCo’s activities real soon.”
Jagger’s arm tightened about Emily’s shoulders. “So I guess I also owe my rescue to you, Laura, and to my future mother-in-l
aw, too.”
“Your future—” Emily’s gaze snapped up to his. “What are you saying, Jagger?”
“I’m saying that I want to marry you. What do you say, Em?”
Joy exploded behind her eyeballs until everything was so bright she could barely look at him. The FBI men around them grinned. But then reality came crashing back in on her so hard she could hardly breathe. It felt as if an anvil had just landed on her chest.
“You know I love you, Jagger.”
“I love you, too.”
Whoa. She almost lost her train of thought at hearing those words from him. She wanted to beg him to say it again. To mean it enough to change for her. But then he wouldn’t be the man she loved anymore.
She blurted, “But I’m not Danger Girl.”
Jagger blinked down at her, clearly confused.
“Ever since that night we met, I’ve been trying to be the kind of woman James Bond could fall in love with. But—” she took a deep breath and forced herself onward in a rush “—it’s not me. I can’t live a life of danger and excitement. I’m a homebody. I like safety. Peace and quiet. I’ll never be glamorous or wild or dangerous. I want to stay home and raise Michelle and live a boring, normal life. I’m just me.”
Jagger listened intently to her outburst, but by the end of it, a tiny smile was starting to play at the corners of his mouth.
“What?” she demanded. Here she’d just laid out her guts for him. Explained why she couldn’t marry him no matter how much she loved him, and he thought it was funny?
“Honey, I’m not James Bond. I’m not some Super Spy, either.”
“Yeah, but you love this life. You love running around in the dark with guns and rescuing people. It’s who you are.”
“I hate to disappoint you, but my twenty-year mark in the military passed while I was cooped up in that container. I’m eligible to retire, and I have every intention of doing so as soon as I can fill out the paperwork.”
“But what about tonight? Nick’s rescue…” she sputtered.
“I told you I couldn’t in good conscience walk away from another prisoner in a box and not try to help the guy. And yeah, I wanted to get enough evidence to sink AbaCo. But I’m done living on the wild side. Super Spy has hung up his cloak and called it quits. Within about thirty seconds of seeing you and Michelle together for the first time, I knew I wanted nothing more than to spend the rest of my nice, boring life with you two.”
“Really?” she asked in a small voice. Hope hovered at the edges of her heart, but she wasn’t quite ready to let it in.
“I want to watch Michelle grow up. I want to terrorize her boyfriends and give her a couple of brothers or sisters. I want to sit on my front porch in a rocking chair and watch the sun set. And I want to wake up every morning for the rest of my life and watch the sunrise in your eyes.”
Tears she didn’t even know were there spilled over onto her cheeks.
Jagger looked alarmed. “Hey. Are you okay, honey?”
“I’m more than okay. I’m perfect. Everything’s perfect.”
“Help me out here, Em. Does that mean you’ll marry me?”
“Yes. Oh, yes!”
He wrapped his arms around both of them and squeezed until Michelle squawked, “Jaggy too tight!”
Laughing, Emily looked down at their daughter. “This is your daddy, Michelle. Can you say daddy?”
“Da-da.”
Joy broke across Jagger’s face that shot all the way to the bottom of her heart.
“Dadadadadadada!” Michelle squealed.
Danger Girl and the Super Spy might not live beyond this night’s work, but it didn’t matter. They had the strongest bond of all to protect them and keep them safe against life’s struggles. A family.
Their family.
ISBN: 978-1-4268-4487-4
THE SOLDIER’S SECRET DAUGHTER
Copyright © 2009 by Cynthia Dees
All rights reserved. Except for use in any review, the reproduction or utilization of this work in whole or in part in any form by any electronic, mechanical or other means, now known or hereafter invented, including xerography, photocopying and recording, or in any information storage or retrieval system, is forbidden without the written permission of the editorial office, Silhouette Books, 233 Broadway, New York, NY 10279 U.S.A.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events or locales is entirely coincidental.
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*Charlie Squad
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†The Medusa Project
†The Medusa Project
**H.O.T. Watch
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