At Any Cost

by Allie K. Adams

  Despite her not wearing shoes, her feet still made a slight echo through the large building. There were some cardboard boxes off to her left. She could just make them out, thanks to the light of the moon behind her, creating a faint cone across the floor of the warehouse.

  To her right, she thought she spotted more boxes. She stared into the black abyss in front of her. With the lack of light, added to her terrible night vision, it was difficult to see. She didn't like this. It didn't feel right. Another foreboding chill washed up her spine.

  JT glanced over her shoulder, half to make sure Dan was hidden, half because she needed to see him, to know he was back there watching her.

  She couldn't see him. Great. Now he decides to hide.

  "Hello?" Her instincts told her she wasn't alone when her neck hairs prickled.

  "Miss Turner," a voice sounded in the darkness. JT's heart skipped. She recognized her contact's voice. She'd only spoke with him a few times, but couldn't forget such a raspy voice.

  "Yes, it's me."

  "Are you alone?"

  She fought the urge to look behind her, to make sure Dan was still well hidden. He was NASSD. He could blend into any situation, including darkness. She drew in a deep breath. Why should she feel nervous? Her hands started to shake. Her mouth ran dry. Something didn't fit. Meeting with HQ in a deserted warehouse seemed... Wrong.

  Come on, Turner. You're freaking out. You haven't lost your nerve, have you? She closed her eyes to regroup.

  "I'm alone."

  "Why do I doubt you?"

  JT's heart stopped, then painfully started. Did he know? He'd made it clear she was to do this on her own, that it was far too dangerous to include anyone else in this assignment. They couldn't trust anyone.

  Discovering Dan Weber as the mole proved that point. She'd almost told him about her assignment. How would he react if she told him her assignment was to seek him out and turn him over to this man, her contact at HQ? He'd freak out and run, or possibly kill her to protect his identity. She wondered about Brooks and Stevens. Where they in on it, too? Or would they, like her, feel like someone just ripped out their faith in humanity.

  As soon as she handed the disc over to HQ, she'd tell them about Dan Weber. Let them deal with the traitor. She just wanted to go home, to put all of this behind her. That desk job didn't seem so bad at the moment.

  "Do you have it?"

  JT nodded, then spoke when she realized it was too dark for him to see her. "Yes."

  A footstep echoed, then another. Headlights flipped on in front of her, creating a silhouette of a man about thirty feet in front of her. She squinted, raised her hand to shade her eyes. "Slide the disc to me."

  Something made her neck hairs lift higher, and a bristle of apprehension raced down her spine. She removed the disc from her pocket and started toward him. Her heart jumped when he barked out at her.

  "Stop! You know the agreement. You are never to see me."

  "Then why do you get to see me?"

  "Why deny the chance to see such a work of art?" She didn't see the sneer, but she sure as hell felt it. JT's stomach turned in response to the comment.

  "Drop it on the floor. Kick it over."

  This didn't feel right. He didn't feel right. JT knew she couldn't back out this late in the game. If she turned and ran, he more than likely had a gun and would take her down, right there. No questions asked. For reasons she couldn't begin to explain, she felt a sense of relief knowing Dan Weber was hiding in the shadows behind her.

  Which didn't make a lick of sense. Dan Weber was the mole. Yet something deep down nagged at her. Would the mole want to destroy the disc? Would the mole want to turn her in to HQ, as Stevens said they were supposed to do? Would the mole make a supposed deal with her to track down a higher bidder?

  Her mind screamed No! To all her questions. Dan Weber couldn't be the mole. Why did it take her until now to realize that? She turned her attention back to her contact. Now he was a much more likely candidate.

  "The disc, please."

  Mole or not, she didn't trust the guy. Why did she wait until now to have her doubts? No, not doubts. Epiphanies.

  She couldn't hand the disc over to this guy. God only knew what he had planned for it. She looked down at the disc, all nice and shiny.

  Hmm.

  What would happen if dirt and grime scratched the surface of the disc? It could damage it beyond repair. If the disc couldn't be read, it couldn't be used. JT dropped the disc, data side down. One deep scratch, that's all it would take. She stepped on it and moved it back and forth, making sure the disc was nice and scratched before kicking it over to him. If he really was the mole, or had anything to do with the leak in NASSD, he'd have one hell of a time using that disc for anything more than a coaster. She kicked it over.

  He reached down and retrieved the disc. As he turned, she could almost make out his face. Dark shoulder-length hair, dark eyes, goatee. But what really caught her attention was the scar above his left eye. It dissected his brow, ran a jagged path down his left cheek, and stopped just above his chin.

  Weren't men with scars always the bad guy? She tried to be rational. This man was HQ. NASSD. But so was the mole.

  Oh damn. Damn. Damn. Damn.

  He was the mole, not Dan. Oh man. What did she get herself into? JT took a step in retreat. This was bad. She took another step back. Before she could blink, the man jumped back into the shadows.

  That's when the car revved its engine, squealed its tires, and made a beeline right for her.

  * * * *

  The sound of the engine sent Dan into action. He jumped out of the shadows and grabbed JT. They both fell to the ground. He braced them as best he could, but she still received the brunt of the impact. He heard the air whistle out of her lungs when they hit the cement. The car whooshed by, barely missing them.

  JT cried out. They'd landed on her shoulder, ripping it back open once again. The blood started its lazy descent down her arm.

  Then the gunfire started.

  "Come on!" He grabbed her hand and pulled her to her feet. He led them away from the warehouse, staying low and zigzagging as best they could. She stumbled and he looked at her, fearing she'd been hit.

  Shit. He'd forgotten she didn't have any shoes on. Her limp seemed more profound after damn near cold cocking him with her foot. But she did an adequate job of keeping up with him, and without complaint.

  He should have known better than to come back to NASSD. He gritted his teeth as JT tripped and almost took them both down. With a jerk that should have ripped her arm clear out of her socket, he pulled her back up. She regained her footing and kept going.

  He glanced down at her feet. Who knows what she had imbedded in them, and yet she didn't complain, didn't slow down. His unwanted admiration for her swelled.

  He knew she couldn't go on like this much longer. And neither could he. They were both tired, hungry, and JT was fighting blood loss. They couldn't out run a vehicle, for Christ's sake. But every path he tried was blocked in one way or another.

  This did not look good.

  As soon as Dan had spotted the reflection of the car parked inside the building, he knew this wasn't the meeting JT Turner thought it was going to be. She'd told him this meeting was with someone who had connections to some big players. He was going to provide her a list of potential buyers. Yet, when Dan asked what the man wanted in return, she couldn't come up with a straight answer.

  JT Turner was a terrible liar. Which worked out to his advantage. He knew to be on his guard. Then she'd disappeared into the darkness inside the warehouse. He couldn't hear their voices, couldn't see how many there were. Dan didn't like it. He couldn't see her. If he couldn't see her, he couldn't protect her if something went wrong.

  And something did. Jesus Christ. Did it ever.

  Damn it. This was why he liked to work alone. Alone he could escape the car, the bullets. Alone he could get the jump on them and take them out one by one.

&nbs
p; This way, he not only had his own ass to save, but now hers. And he didn't like that he was more concerned about her ass than his. She'd found a way to screw up his priorities in the short time she'd intruded on his life. Damn her.

  This was too personal. Too fucking familiar. The last time he'd put the importance of a woman's ass above his own had cost him his career, his best friend's life, and damn near his own life. What would it take to get it through his thick head? A two by four across the back? Because he'd already had the message stabbed into his heart.

  "Try the door," JT rasped, panting. She wouldn't hold out much longer. Locked, of course. Dan pulled JT down a short alleyway. No luck. They turned back around just as the car pulled in behind them. "Oh shit."

  "Exactly." Dan pulled out his weapon and fired on the driver. The car slammed into reverse and whipped out of the alley, giving him and JT the chance to escape. He looked around in all directions. There was nowhere for them to run. It was like a wide-open firing range, and they were the targets.

  They were toast.

  What was he thinking agreeing to Donovan's insane plan? Dan was no mole, and JT wasn't stupid. He could tell she didn't trust him and yet she went along with it. If she was the mole, and Dan would bet his left nut she wasn't, then what would she have to gain by agreeing to split the profit? Especially if she already had the means to a list of potential buyers through this so-called contact?

  He grabbed her hand and ran off toward the dock. JT hissed, stumbled. Dan pulled at her arm. "Come on, Turner. Don't make me carry you."

  "Ditto, Weber," She bit back and picked up speed so much she started to pull him, impressing him yet again.

  "There they are!"

  Dan's spine straightened and if JT hadn't been pulling him, he would have skidded to a stop. It couldn't be... That voice. He could have sworn...

  A quick glance over his shoulder confirmed his suspicion. It was. Jason Peck. The bastard ultimately responsible for the scar on Dan's chest, and his partner's death.

  What in the hell did he have to do with JT? And then it clicked. Just as Dan suspected all along, Peck was the mole.

  He almost turned around and ran back toward him. He wanted to snap the asshole's neck. But that would be too quick, too painless. Peck needed to suffer. Dan wanted to see the fear in his eyes when he pulled the trigger. He wanted to make sure Peck felt every ounce of Dan's rage. Blow by painful blow.

  And if he killed Peck right then, he'd never know why. That plagued Dan as deeply as Gessler's death. Why would an agent with a perfect track record up and disappear one day only to return as the enemy?

  His thoughts were interrupted by the screech of tires. Apparently they found a new driver.

  "Why are they doing this? I gave them the disc," JT panted.

  Dan didn't miss the fact she turned the disc on its data side when she slid it over. No doubt it rendered the disc useless. Apparently she was on to Peck as well. Smart girl. The little prick would have one hell of a time retrieving any data off that disc. When he did, he'd get a nice dubbed version of The Eagles CD, "When Hell Freezes Over."

  Which was exactly how long Jason Peck would have to wait before Dan would ever allow him to get his hands on LEON .

  "You've seen him, heard his voice. He can't afford a witness." Dan knew firsthand what Jason Peck was capable of.

  The car's engine revved behind them. A shot rang out. JT stumbled, this time coupled with a sharp cry. She went down.

  Oh no. She'd been hit. Again.

  "JT?" Dan had to all but carry her. She tried to regain her footing, but her right leg kept giving out. He couldn't see where she'd been hit, but that didn't mean anything. "Are you hit?"

  "No," she panted. "I stepped on a rock."

  "Then run, damn it. Run!"

  He couldn't outrun the car carrying both their weight. He'd have a chance on his own, but it wasn't the way NASSD agents worked. Like the Musketeers, it was all for one and one for all. The unwritten code of the counter-terrorist agency. That much they'd learned in Gahanna .

  "Move your ass, Turner."

  One foot in front of the other. Faster. Faster. The car was closing in. More gunshots. Lucky for them, the enemy was a lousy shot.

  He eyed the pier. Dead ahead. Twenty yards. If they picked up the pace, they just might make it.

  "Can you swim?"

  "When the occasion calls for it." Her eyes widened when she realized what he had in mind.

  "Take a deep breath!" Without hesitation, he hurdled off the end of the pier, pulling JT with him.

  The water felt like ice against his skin, sucking the breath out of his lungs. Elliot Bay was cold this time of year. Hell, it was cold anytime of the year. He could only imagine how cold it felt to JT. A t-shirt and shorts were the only thing protecting her. At least he had more clothes on.

  He surfaced first and searched for JT. She poked her head out of the water moments later. Placing his finger over his lips to signal her to stay quiet, he listened.

  She followed him as he swam toward the pier. It had a large gap underneath the dockworkers must use for maintenance. If they were fast enough, they could hide under there and wait it out.

  Only after they were safely tucked under a large chunk of cement shaped like an H did he turn and look at JT. Her dark hair was slicked back off her face. Even in the dark her green eyes glowed. She really was a beautiful woman.

  The car stopped above him. Doors opened. Footsteps. "¿Usted piensa que ellos están muertos?" Hmm. More Spanish. Peck must be working with Mercado. That's why he wants LEON .

  "I know I hit one of them. If the bullet doesn't kill whoever it hit, the sharks will. Let's go," The other responded in Spanish. Two men. Laughing. Doors closing. Car backing up and driving away.

  Idiots. The waters of Puget Sound were too cold for sharks. Obviously not from around here.

  That thought weighed on him. Mercado must have smuggled his men into the United States to work with Peck. This had just gotten bigger. Much bigger. He wondered the role JT Turner played in all of this. A player? Or was she being played?

  "You mind telling me what that was all about?" She demanded, surprising the hell out of him. This was supposed to be her meeting. He was just along for the ride.

  And yet he knew more about what just happened than she did. She was no mole. No, she was just an innocent agent who landed her trust in the wrong guy. He knew first hand how that felt.

  "Later. Right now I'd rather get out of the water before we both slip into hyperthermia."

  "No arguments there." She did her best attempt at swimming with her bum shoulder. Eventually she kicked her way over to the ladder leading back up to the dock. Slowly, silently, they snuck up the ladder. Dan sneaked a peak over the edge.

  Nothing.

  Which didn't necessarily mean they weren't there.

  "Come on, Weber. While we're young." He felt a hand on his ass, urging him up the ladder. The contact sent a shot of warmth through to his gut.

  "We need to make sure they’re gone."

  "They're gone."

  "How can you be sure?"

  "I recognized their voices from the hotel. Not exactly the ripest cherries on the tree," She grunted as she hauled herself up out of the water, and the sound made Dan's inside spin like a tornado.

  A chuckle swelled from deep inside his chest. Even standing barefoot on a pier, soaking wet in freezing seawater, she still kept her sense of humor. It was refreshing.

  "Let's get out of here." Without thinking, he grabbed her hand and led her away from the end of the pier.

  "How?"

  That was a good question. The motor home was surely covered by now. If they moved it, Peck would know they were still alive. Hell, when their bodies weren't found floating in the water come morning, he'd know.

  JT kept eyeing him weird, making him feel like he had a giant squid plastered to his head. He just couldn't read this woman! Finally, after one look too many, he stopped and turned to her. "What?"
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br />   "Nothing. It's just, after what just happened, I don't know who to trust."

  "Welcome to my world," he muttered. The air bit down on them, forcing a shiver out of him. If they didn't find shelter soon, they'd both be in trouble. "Let's go."

  Chapter 6

  JT wanted to trust him. To trust someone. But right now she didn't care. She was cold. Tired. And her feet were killing her, not to mention the gash in her arm had opened up and started bleeding again.

  Her apartment was only a few miles away. She had a first aid kit there. It wasn't the most comprehensive, but with the help of Dr. Dan, it at least contained a couple of butterfly bandages to close the wound. She glanced down at her arm. It really didn't look that bad. It may leave a scar, but she could live with that.

  "Where are we headed?"

  JT ignored him. She didn't want to deal with questions right now, even if she did know the answer. There were too many questions where she didn't. Instead, she drummed along, freezing from ass to elbow, trying to get home before losing consciousness.

  "Hey? Turner? You still with me?"

  What time was it? It was awfully quiet on the streets of downtown Seattle . Aside from the occasional car, which forced them to dart into nearby shadows, they were alone. They'd reach her apartment within the hour—if the bad guys didn't find them first.

  At this point, JT almost wanted them to find her. She craved violence. Getting shot at twice in one day really ticked her off. Beating the tar out of someone right now would soothe her nerves.

  She shot a glance at Dan. No, better not touch him. Not only could he take her down in more ways than she wanted to admit, she didn't understand the reaction her body had to him. Whenever their eyes met, or their bodies were in close proximity to each other, electricity charged the air. Until she could get her hormones under control, she needed to keep a safe distance from Dan Weber.

  Like another continent.

  JT huffed. Well, this had been an enlightening day. She'd succeeded in finding the mole. Too bad he turned out to be her contact with HQ. Jeez Louise, how could she have been so gullible? He played her like a puppet. He had her risk her life to steal the disc, and now he had it in his back-stabbing clutches.