Targeted

by Katie Reus

“Then what are you?”

  “I do a lot of undercover work.”

  “So you’re sort of a spy. Kind of like James Bond?”

  “Sort of.” A smile tugged at his lips. He wasn’t a spy. Not in the sense that she was thinking. So-called spies worked for the CIA or MI6 or a dozen other countries around the world.

  “So how’d you get into it?”

  Considering that his boss had sent him on this mission when he should have sent him on vacation, Jack actually got perverse pleasure from opening up to her. Sophie already knew who he worked for. When this was all over, she’d be debriefed for hours—or more likely days. And they’d make her sign more than one confidentiality agreement that promised imprisonment and worse if she told anyone what she knew. “I was recruited.”

  “Were you in the military?”

  Her eyebrows were knit in curiosity and he wished he could figure out what was going on in her head. She couldn’t possibly know who he was, yet all the hair on the back of his neck stood up as she watched him. “Why?”

  “Your tattoos. I saw one on your back. And your . . . bullet. I figured that had some sort of military connection.”

  Or she hoped it did, was the implication in her unspoken words. Most of his tats had been covered or removed—and the one she was referring to he should have had removed, but he’d kept it out of pride. He’d made it work with all his cover IDs so far, so it hadn’t been an issue. The places he’d infiltrated had loved “recruiting” him when they found out he had official training. The bullet he wore around his neck—his hog’s tooth—he hadn’t worn on his last mission, but he’d snagged it before heading to Miami. He hadn’t planned to take his clothes off around Sophie, and the thing was like part of his skin. He hadn’t even thought about it this morning, but she’d obviously seen it. Even if she didn’t know exactly what it was, she was smart enough to figure it out eventually.

  “I was in the Marines.” Years of training flew out the window as the admission slipped out. Yeah, he was a real superspy today. Tension hummed through him as he told her way more than he ever should have. He was having a harder time than he’d imagined distancing himself from Sam. Who was supposed to be dead. But being with Sophie made him want to be Sam. He wanted her to look at him the way she’d looked at her high school boyfriend. Not look at him as if he were a fucking stranger who could ever hurt her.

  “Oh.” She bit her lip, then looked out the window.

  “What?”

  She looked at him again. “It’s just . . . I told you that you reminded me of someone and he was a Marine too. That’s all. It just freaks me out a little, I guess.”

  “Why do I remind you of your friend?” He was playing with fire, but he couldn’t stop himself. And fuck all his years of training and even his boss, he didn’t want to.

  Her shoulders lifted noncommittally. “Your eyes. They’re . . . unique.”

  “What happened to your friend?” Oh yeah, he deserved a goddamn medal for his superspy abilities today.

  Her jaw twitched once, but she answered, “He died. Roadside bomb in Afghanistan or somewhere in the Middle East. I didn’t know, but he’d listed me as his emergency contact, so the military automatically contacted me. I never got the full story and truthfully, I didn’t want to know the details. The fact that he’d died was hard enough to deal with.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  “Me too,” she said quietly.

  Jack’s fists tightened around the wheel. Just because she was sorry about his death didn’t mean shit. Time to change the subject. “As soon as we get to Miami, we’re ditching this car and finding a new one. And we’re going to get into the building before the nighttime security arrives, so we’ll have time to kill before meeting with Weller.”

  “How do you know the security schedule?” Her voice was cautious.

  He lifted an eyebrow at her. Did she even have to ask?

  Sophie just shook her head, so he fished out one of the burner phones and handed it to her. “Are you ready to call your boss?”

  “I guess.” Her words didn’t inspire confidence.

  “If you don’t think you can do this, tell me now. If he senses something’s off, we could be walking into a trap. You need to convince him to meet you. I don’t care what you say, just make sure he agrees to meet. The sooner the better. And remember, you’ve got forty seconds.” That was how long it would take someone to trace the call if anyone was trying. After being tracked down last night, he wasn’t taking any chances.

  “I can. I will.” She nodded as if to convince herself and her loose hair swished seductively around her shoulders.

  She had that just-out-of-bed, sexy tousled look. He knew it wasn’t intentional either and that just made her hotter. Something he shouldn’t be noticing. “Good. As soon as you hit Send, put him on speaker.”

  With trembling fingers, Sophie took the phone from his hand and dialed. She did as he instructed, then held the phone in her lap as it started ringing.

  Her boss picked up in the middle of the second ring. “Yeah?” he growled.

  “Ronald?”

  His voice softened. “Sophie, are you all right?”

  She glanced at Jack as she answered, “I’m fine, but I need to meet you. Soon.”

  “I thought you were going to get out of town.” He sounded panicked.

  “I know but I need to see you. It’s important.”

  “Sophie, you can’t come back to Miami. Trust me. It’s too dangerous,” he hissed, his words a whisper.

  “I have to. I found some information on Keane Flight that looks sketchy, including pictures I took at the hangar. You need to see everything.”

  There was a short pause. “Why can’t you just tell me what you found?”

  “I can’t talk about any of this on the phone. People with guns tried to kill me. I think this may be part of the reason. If it is, we need to go to the police.”

  Jack was impressed. Sophie kept biting her bottom lip, but her voice was strong and convincing.

  Ronald sighed. “How about we meet at Dorsey Park?”

  Sophie looked at Jack. He shook his head and mouthed the word “office.” Then he mouthed ten seconds.

  She nodded. “No. It’s too public. I want to meet in your office.”

  “Sophie, I don’t know—”

  “I’ll be there tonight at eight. Be there or I’m going straight to the cops. I’ve got to go.” With wide eyes, she hung up the phone.

  “That was good,” Jack said.

  “You’re sure?”

  “Yeah. Not giving him a chance to argue and threatening with the police was perfect.”

  She sighed and sagged back against the seat. “Thank God.”

  Jack flipped on his blinker and pulled into a gas station.

  “What are you doing?”

  “Filling up with gas. Do you mind paying the attendant?” He handed her a couple of bills before getting out of the car.

  Keeping an eye on her while avoiding the one video camera outside the station, he started the pump, then used the same phone Sophie had used and called Wesley. He’d be ditching it as soon as this call was over, so he might as well get some use out of it.

  “Wesley here.” His boss sounded pissed.

  “It’s me.”

  “Where the hell are you? You should have checked in by now.”

  “I think we might have a leak.”

  “What?”

  “Miguel Vargas’s men tracked us down last night.”

  “And where exactly were you?”

  Jack ignored the question. “Levi was with them.”

  Silence.

  “You still there?”

  “Son of a bitch,” he muttered.

  “What’s going on? You haven’t said two words about Levi since I’ve been back.” Truth
be told, Jack hadn’t asked either. He’d assumed his friend was on a mission and Jack had other things on his mind. Namely Sophie. While Levi was one of the few people Jack trusted, he hadn’t spoken to him in over a year. Just the way this business was sometimes. Jack had been so deep undercover for his last operation he’d been unable to reach out to anyone once he’d been completely embedded. Not that he’d been in the right frame of mind to do so anyway.

  “He went off the grid six months ago. No one has seen him since.”

  “Why? What about Meghan?” The gas pump clicked off, so Jack placed it back in the holder.

  He slid back into the front seat as Sophie emerged from the gas station carrying two foam cups and a plastic bag. He leaned over and opened the door for her.

  “I didn’t want to tell you like this, but Meghan is dead.” His boss’s gravelly voice was strangled.

  Bile rose in his throat. “Dead?”

  Sophie slid into the passenger seat and set his cup in the coffee holder.

  “Yeah. Seven months ago she was murdered and Levi disappeared a month later. He’s been like a ghost.”

  Jack started the car but didn’t move. “Shit.”

  “Exactly.”

  He hated to ask the question because he knew the answer would make him sick. “What happened to her?”

  “She was tortured and executed. It was professional. By the methods used, we guess it was the Russians.”

  Meghan was one of their best agents. No, she had been. Even thinking that she was dead felt wrong. After nearly a decade of undercover work, she’d finally taken a desk job because she and Levi had wanted to start a family.

  “There’s more, Jack. She was five months pregnant when she was killed.”

  An icy flash of raw anger snaked through him as the words sank in. Torturing a pregnant woman? He was surprised Levi hadn’t gone off the deep end completely. “Why did Levi disappear?”

  “Revenge is my guess, but I honestly don’t know. He sold their home, got rid of all his belongings, and fell off the face of the earth.”

  “Is there a connection with Vargas and Meghan?” As far as Jack knew, Meghan had never done any work in South America. If there was a link, it was possible Levi was out for revenge. Or maybe he was using Vargas to get to someone else. That would make more sense.

  “Not from her time with us,” his boss growled.

  Jack understood his frustration. There were too many variables. Levi obviously had his own agenda, but it wasn’t what Jack originally thought. “Someone on the inside helped them track us. I overheard part of Levi’s conversation with Vargas, and that bastard has a contact on the inside.”

  More silence.

  “Wesley?”

  “I was afraid of that. Someone sold Meghan out, so after her death I began a discreet investigation. I haven’t come up with anything solid.”

  “So what do you want me to do?”

  “Don’t call me anymore. Use the same backdoor channel we used when you were in Lebanon.”

  Most of his missions were off the books, including that one. And that channel hadn’t been used in years. If anyone was listening to their current conversation, they’d have no clue what he and Wesley were referring to. “Okay. I’ll contact you soon. And, Wesley?”

  “Yeah?”

  “You should have told me about Meghan before now.” It was a shitty thing keeping him in the dark about one of their own. It wasn’t as though he could have gone to the funeral, but he should have been told. Because no matter what, he’d have reached out to Levi.

  “I know.”

  Jack disconnected, then rolled down Sophie’s window. He popped out the battery and handed it to her. Without him having to ask, she tossed the pieces into the trash can by the pump.

  “Is everything okay?” Sophie asked. She’d been completely silent until then, sipping her coffee and carefully watching him.

  “Yes.” The answer was automatic as he steered out of the lot.

  “No, it’s obviously not.” He nearly jumped out of his skin when she placed a light, reassuring hand on his arm.

  The soft way she touched and looked at him tore the truth from him. How did she do that? “I just found out a friend of mine died last year.” It wasn’t like he was telling her details of something classified. It was the only thing that eased his conscience about opening up.

  “Oh . . . God, I’m so sorry.” And she was. The sincerity in her voice was real. Something else he loved about her. Sophie didn’t say anything she didn’t mean.

  “Thanks,” he murmured as he pulled back onto the main road.

  Just being close to Sophie grounded him in a way he’d never expected. Or even imagined. He’d learned at a young age to only depend on himself. So why did he feel this sudden need to bare his soul to Sophie? Maybe not exactly bare it, but he wanted to open up to her. For once he wanted to be honest with a woman. Tell her things he’d never told anyone. He just wanted to let someone in. Okay, not someone. Only Sophie. That scared the hell out of him.

  Chapter 11

  PHOTINT: photographic intelligence, usually involving high-altitude reconnaissance using satellites. Also called IMINT.

  Hannah could hear the distant sound of male voices and another, more insistent tapping sound much closer. She kept her eyes shut. She was afraid of what she might see when she opened them. Visions of wrestling with a man, then being knocked out with some sort of drug tickled her memory. It wasn’t a dream, that much she was sure of.

  “Are you awake?” a soft female voice asked.

  Hannah cracked open her eyes at the question. A pretty blond woman wearing jeans and a plain black T-shirt sat huddled against a wall. Her knees were pulled up to her chest, and her arms were wrapped around them. The blonde looked as though she was barely out of college. Glancing around, Hannah realized they were in a matchbox-sized concrete room with one bed and one toilet. And she was stretched out on the uncomfortable mattress.

  Pushing up, she tried to ignore the pain splintering through her skull. “Where are we?” Her voice was raspy and unused, making her wonder how long she’d been unconscious.

  The blonde shrugged, but the action was a little jerky. “I don’t know. Cuba maybe. They just brought me here a couple days ago and one of the guards told me we’re moving again very soon. He said I’d be seeing my family, so I think we’re going to Miami.”

  “Moving? They? What’s going on?” Hannah gingerly touched the back of her head. A small bump had formed on the bottom side of her skull. She moved her jaw back and forth, not surprised her face was sore.

  “The men holding us work for Miguel Vargas. He was here earlier, but you were still unconscious.”

  “Who’s Miguel Vargas?”

  The girl frowned at her. “He runs one of the biggest South American drug cartels. You don’t know who he is?”

  “Oh . . . maybe.” She couldn’t remember if Sophie had said anything about that on the phone. Her head was still fuzzy. Stretching out her arms in front of her, she looked at herself, then down at her clothes. Dirt stained her white T-shirt and jeans, but she didn’t think she’d been hurt anywhere else.

  “What’s your name?” the girl asked.

  She stopped her assessment. “Hannah. What’s yours?”

  “I’m Holly. Do you know why you’re here?” Her voice slightly trembled.

  Hannah shook her head. “Not really. The last thing I remember, my best friend called and told me to pack a bag and hide somewhere for a few days. She said someone was after her and . . .” She trailed off as she realized that anyone could be listening to them. The more she came awake, the worse off she knew she was. This was a bad situation. The other girl had said they might be in Cuba? Holy hell. Bad, bad, bad.

  “Who’s your friend?” Holly asked before Hannah could speak.

  She contempla
ted not answering for a second, but this girl was a captive too. And even if she was faking it for some reason, Hannah had no reason to lie. “Her name is Sophie.”

  Holly’s forehead crinkled. “Sophie . . . Sophie Moreno?”

  Hannah couldn’t hide her surprise. “Yeah, you know her?”

  “She works for my dad. I’ve known her for years. How is she involved in this?”

  Hannah shrugged. “I don’t even know what ‘this’ is. Why is some drug lord holding you hostage?”

  “It has something to do with my dad’s company. I tried to ask one of his men once, but—”

  The sound of heated male voices drifted through the steel door of their room. “Who is that?” Hannah whispered.

  There was a spark of fear in Holly’s eyes as she held a finger to her mouth. “Shh. Roll over and close your eyes. I’ll tell them you’re still sleeping.”

  Without pause, Hannah did as she asked. She tried to keep her breathing normal when she heard the door creak open. A man said something in Spanish, but she couldn’t understand him. Holly answered, and then another man spoke, but his voice was much softer. Nicer. They continued talking. Hannah could pick out some words, but bonita was the only one she understood.

  There was some shuffling around behind her. Hannah prepared to be shaken awake—or worse—but nothing happened. The door shut and after a few minutes Holly spoke.

  “You can turn over now,” she whispered.

  She cringed as the mattress creaked. “What happened?”

  Holly held out a handful of celebrity Spanish magazines and a faded paperback. “They wanted to know if you’d woken up and they left these.”

  “Have they . . . hurt you?” Hannah hoped the girl understood what she meant.

  For a moment, her blue eyes darkened, but she shook her head. “No, thankfully. One of the men tried to rape me when I was first taken, but the guy who brought these in stopped him.” She held up the magazines.

  “Have you tried to escape?”

  The other girl shook her head and wrapped her arms around herself again. “No way. They all have guns and I don’t even know what country we’re in now. Before they brought me here, they actually let me out of my room a few times, but I was in the middle of the rain forest. I wouldn’t have known where to run anyway. Everyone around here is really scary.” Her voice cracked on the last word.