by Carla Cassidy, Evelyn Vaughn, Harper Allen, Ruth Wind, Cindy Dees
“This document’s a fake? You set me up?” Dawn heard her voice rise, but she was powerless to control it. Somewhere deep inside her a volcano seemed to be erupting, its furiously hot lava boiling over and melting the protective ice that had kept her together. She stared at Asher, trying and failing to read him. “You’re lying,” she said in shaky anger. “If these papers were worthless you wouldn’t have bothered with the security system.”
“And you would have waltzed in here, realized it was all too easy and guessed it was a trap,” he replied with a shrug. “The real document’s safely back in the Rose-Jackman in the old man’s study, which makes this a double-bluff, love. I thought you of all people would appreciate the irony of—”
“Without those papers I’m dead, damn you!” As she shouted out the accusation, Dawn hurled the bound pages straight at him. Instinctively he moved as they fluttered by his face, and that was all the advantage she needed.
The bowie knife sliced through the air and shuddered to a twanging halt, its razor-sharp blade gleaming cruelly and the first inch of its tip pinning the skin between Asher’s thumb and index finger to the wall behind him. As his hand spasmed in agony the Sig Sauer fell to the floor and Dawn closed the distance between them to kick it away, pulling Reese’s Beretta from her waistband as she did.
“I need the freakin’ notes, Ash,” she said harshly. “I intend to get them, and I’m taking these as well just in case. But if this really was a trap and these papers are worthless, you wouldn’t have left the real document lying unprotected in a safe I’d already cracked once. Who’s standing guard in Sir William’s study?”
Aqua eyes blazed at her. “You know what I’ve learned to appreciate about Americans?” Destin Asher asked, ignoring her question. His smile was a grimace of pain. “The colorful phrases you come up with for the most ordinary sentiments. Bite me. Now that’s one of my all-time favorites, love.”
His booted foot came up as he snarled out the last word, taking her unawares as his heel smashed the Beretta from her hand. Careless, O’Shaughnessy, Dawn warned herself. Whatever you do, don’t let his free hand get close enough to the handle of the knife to pull it out. But her body was ahead of her thoughts and already she was pivoting to deliver a high sideways kick to his left shoulder.
He feinted out of range, ducked up again and grasped her ankle as she tried to retract her leg. With both hands he used her momentum against her and flipped her backward into the air.
She crashed ignominiously onto her rump and stared up at him in shock. Asher, his right hand dripping blood from where he’d torn it away from the bowie blade, rushed toward her.
“What the hell do you mean, you’re dead without those notes?” he growled as he threw himself at her.
She rolled out of the way at the last minute and had the satisfaction of seeing him wince as his shoulder made violent contact with the corner of the iron desk. “You wouldn’t believe me if I told you,” she grunted, rolling back and slamming a braced elbow into his ribs. She saw his Sig under the desk where it had slid when she’d kicked it from his grasp, and made a dive for it.
“Try me, Swanson.” Just as her fingertips brushed the gun’s grip, she felt him yank her away, his hand securing a hold in the bullet-shredded back of her top. She heard a tearing sound and then she was free. Asher dropped the strip of black fabric he’d been left with and clamped a hand around her left wrist as she stretched full-length on the floor for the Sig again. “Bloody hell, what are you packing in that scabbard you’re wearing, anyway?”
“Nothing, I’m just happy to see you,” Dawn ground out, releasing the button on the wristband she was wearing on her right arm and closing her fingers around the handle of the switchblade as it jumped into her hand. She flipped onto her back and brought the stiletto’s blade to his throat. Asher froze instantly, his face inches from hers.
“You’re a one-woman commando raid, love,” he said in a strained tone, his gaze slanting once at the knife and then meeting hers again. “Swords, knives, guns…and a whole bag of back-alley tricks when the weaponry runs out. It was the truth, wasn’t it?”
She didn’t bother to pretend she didn’t know what he was talking about. “The assassin thing?” she said through gritted teeth. “Yeah, it was the truth. And I’m telling you the truth now when I say that I’d prefer not to kill you if I don’t have to.”
“I don’t know how to break this to you, love, but you’re awfully damn close to killing me right now,” he gasped.
She didn’t allow the blade to shift. “Close only counts in horseshoes, Ash. And grenades,” she added dryly.
Incredibly, he managed a smile. “You don’t have any of those tucked away in a back pock—”
Two things happened at once to prevent him from finishing his sentence. The lights went out, not only in the room but outside in the hallway, Dawn realized as she saw the line of brightness under the door disappear. And from somewhere outside came a quick burst of automatic gunfire.
Slowly she withdrew the blade from the vicinity of Asher’s throat and heard him exhale.
“Not your arrangements?” he asked, his lips so close to her ear that his breath was warm on the nape of her neck. She shook her head in the dark.
“No, not mine,” she said. “But I’m pretty damn sure I know whose arrangements these new developments are…and if I’m right, we’re both in a world of trouble.”
Chapter 14
Status: four days and counting
Time: 1007 hours
Dawn began to get to her feet, but Asher’s tight grip on her arm stopped her. “Wait,” he directed her tersely.
The habit of command might die hard, she thought, but die it would. Circumstances had apparently made them temporary allies, but he needed to understand that she didn’t take orders from him.
“For what, teatime?” She let an edge of impatience shade her tone as she shook off his hand. “If I’m right and we’re under siege by the people I think we are, we’ve got to strike back immed—”
The lights went on again; not to their former level of brightness but with a dim yellow glow that created sickly shadows instead of a clear view of the room. It was better than nothing, Dawn conceded.
“It’s teatime now,” Asher said. He stood and crossed to the desk. Picking up the phone’s receiver, he listened for a second and then set it down. “There’s been a few changes made since you came close to crippling this facility four nights ago, although unfortunately a backup phone system’s not one of them. I gave higher priority to setting up the firewall precautions that now make it impossible to shut down the auxiliary power system when the main one’s tampered with. Anything else you’d like to challenge me on, Swanson?”
He was pulling rank on her, dammit. She gave him an unimpressed look. “You weren’t sure it was going to kick in, were you?”
“My heart was in my mouth,” he answered unhesitatingly. His teeth flashed briefly in the gloom, and she felt her own lips curve reluctantly up in response before she tightened them again.
“Ground rules,” she said sharply. “You cover my back, I’ll cover yours. We hunt in a pack, got it?”
“Not quite.” Asher bent to retrieve his Sig Sauer, but then paused. “Getting my gun, Swanson. Am I going to feel that pigsticker you like throwing so much between my shoulder blades as soon as I turn away?”
“We’re on the same side for now.” She strode to the wall behind the desk and pulled the bowie knife out with a tug. Without thinking, she wiped the tip clean on her pants before thrusting it into the sheath strapped around her thigh. She glanced up to see Asher watching her.
“I’d be more convinced by your offer of solidarity if it weren’t my blood you just cleaned from your knife,” he said dryly. Another short burst of gunfire came from outside and he grabbed up the Sig. “Sorry, Swanson, but I can’t trust you’re not on the side of whoever’s out there trying to take over this place. I’m cuffing you and leaving you here while I—”
“I was on Lab 33’s side once,” she interrupted him impatiently. “Now I think I’m on its hit list—just like you are and just like any of your people who try to stop them will be.”
“Lab 33?” Asher shook his head before she could answer. “Forget it, there’s no time. Just fill me in on the important things, like how many, their level of training and armament, what their objective is.”
“Probably no more than twenty if it’s the usual Lab 33 covert ops force, trained like you wouldn’t friggin’ believe, armed ditto,” Dawn said as she spied the Beretta in a corner and retrieved it. “I was sent here to steal Sir William’s notes on the regeneration process by a certain Aldrich Peters, and my guess is that he’s gotten tired of waiting for results and decided to take a less subtle approach. Since I didn’t deliver, I’m expendable.” She checked her weapon, avoiding Asher’s gaze. “You warned me of just such a contingency, as I recall. I should have given more weight to your advice.”
“You’re not the first to be left twisting in the wind when a superior decides not to back you up. I ignored the warning signs in my own situation, which is why I’m here,” he said curtly. “Right, then. We work as a team for now, Swanson, but that doesn’t mean I’m not going to arrest you after this is over, understood?” As he spoke he flung open the door and flattened himself against the wall while she did the same on the other side of the opening. Acting as one they both moved into the doorway at the same time, Dawn crouched slightly down in front of him, her Beretta held in a two-handed grip; Asher behind and above her with his Sig at the ready.
“Try to arrest me, you mean,” she corrected as they moved from doorway to doorway down the hall to the entrance of the building. “I assume we’re heading to Sir William’s study?”
“One of your American bank robbers once said that he robbed banks because that’s where the money was. If your Lab 33 people are after my uncle’s notes, it stands to reason at least some of them are on their way to his room while the rest of them create a diversion.” Asher kept his tone low and raised a cautionary hand as they neared the end of the hall. Swiftly he looked around the corner and jerked his head back.
“Evers and Chase were on security detail at the entrance tonight. They must have been taken out already, damn—”
“By me, not Lab 33,” Dawn said, moving past him. She anticipated his response and forestalled it. “They’re alive, just unconscious in the bushes, okay? Come on, follow my lead.”
She hadn’t really expected him to, she thought without rancor as the two of them raced side by side through the dimly lit foyer and kicked open the doors to the outside, in unison holding back for a moment before rushing the exit and hitting the walkway in twin paratrooper rolls. Like me, he’s probably used to playing a lone hand when he can, she told herself as Asher, showing the same low profile as herself on the other side of the walkway, kept pace with her on their way to the building that housed the lab and civilian quarters. But with a Lab 33 black-ops team as our opposition, right now both of us could use a partner…and although I hate to admit it, Des Asher’s almost as good at this as I am.
“You’re almost on a par with me at broken-cover reconnoitering, Swanson.” Asher had crossed the walkway and was at her side, his whispered words of approbation accompanied by a distracted nod. “We’d better decide on a plan of action before we go in—”
“We see a Lab 33 team member, we kill him. There, now we’ve got a freakin’ plan,” Dawn said in irritation. She took a deep breath and forced a more even tone to her voice. “One thing we should get clear—don’t put yourself in danger for me, Ash. If you can prevent me from taking a bullet at no risk to yourself, be my guest. I don’t like getting shot any more than the next girl, but as you saw the other night, I can take a licking and still go on ticking.”
Her flipness was a cover for her sudden apprehension. The man had some idea of what she was, but there was a big difference between having some idea and knowing for certain. Face it, O’Shaughnessy, no one feels real comfortable around a freak, and that’s what you are—a freak, just like those Lab 33 guards said so long ago, she told herself.
“So I saw what I thought I saw the night I shot you?” His question was tense, and her heart sank. She concealed her reaction with sharpness.
“Your friggin’ bullet blew a hole in me and I healed right up? Yeah, that’s what happened, Ash.” She lifted her shoulders dismissively. “Aldrich Peters manipulated my genes before I was born in order to create a super-assassin, and one of my enhanced abilities is the capacity to regenerate after being wounded. I’m a lab rat…Lab 33’s lab rat, to be exa—”
“Don’t finish that sentence.” Without warning he pulled her toward him, so close that she could see the anger in his eyes. “You’re one hell of a fighter. You’re a risk-taker with nerves of steel, a covert ops expert who doesn’t know the meaning of quitting and a soldier who deserves a better leader than this bastard Peters you mention. You’re the most formidable opponent I’ve gone up against, not to mention the only one I’ve ever wanted to—” He stopped abruptly. Dawn exhaled.
“If you were going to say shag, then the feeling’s mutual,” she said. “It’s been driving me crazy since the first time I—”
He was already bringing his mouth down on hers. Mr. SAS kept shattering her misconceptions about the British, Dawn thought in surprise as she felt his tongue flick impatiently against her vulnerable inner top lip and then move deeper. She’d always thought the English were restrained, but there was nothing restrained about the way Des Asher was kissing her. Come to that, there wasn’t anything remotely restrained about the heat that immediately flared up inside her as she kissed him back, either, she admitted dazedly. Why didn’t we do this sooner, dammit? she asked herself as she felt his hands, hard and urgent, tugging at the zipper on her top and then pushing her bra up. With equal urgency she began unbuttoning his shirt before impatiently tearing it open and letting the tips of her fingernails bite lightly into his chest. It’s not like we haven’t had the opportunity. Hell, the man was actually in my bedroom a few nights-—
She pulled away from him, so suddenly that it took a moment for him to focus. “If you’ve wanted me since we met, how come you walked out on me the other night?” she demanded, yanking up the zipper on her top.
“I walked out because I didn’t fancy being used by you.” His eyes met hers steadily. “I’m not the hearts-and-flowers type any more than you are, love, but I had the faint hope it might mean something if we ever got together. I still have that hope. Am I a bloody fool to hang on to it?”
His directness was disconcerting. She blinked at him, her anger fading. “Probably,” she said quietly. “I’ve lied to you from the start, Ash, but I won’t lie to you about that.”
“Fair enough.” His wry smile belied the sudden shadow that crossed his features. He held her gaze for a heartbeat longer and then looked away, his manner once again coolly professional. “So you can take a bullet and keep going, is that what you’re telling me?”
Dawn nodded, not trusting her voice. Oh, I can heal from a bullet, all right, she told him silently, looking at the strong line of his jaw, the burnt-pewter of his hair against the tan of his skin, the broad strength of his shoulders. What I’m not sure of is how I’m going to get over what I just did. You’re the first man I ever met who’s as tough as me, but who sees past the toughness to the person I am underneath…or the person I might have been if Aldrich Peters and Lab 33 had never existed. And I’ve just warned you not to put your trust in me.
She thrust her thoughts aside with an effort. “Except to the throat,” she said, hoping her tone conveyed nothing of what she’d been feeling. “I can be killed if my air supply’s cut off, so if it takes too long for me to heal up enough to begin drawing in oxygen again, I’m in trouble. But since that’s only happened to me once before, I’m not worried.” She jerked her head at the building in front of them. “I go in low, you go in high?”
“Sounds good
,” Ash said as another sharp burst of gunfire erupted from somewhere on the grounds. He half rose and paused, his glance at her unreadable. “You know, one of the lab rats that were so mysteriously released wasn’t found. It got clean away and made it to freedom. You might want to remember that when the time comes to make a decision, love.”
“I’ve already made—” Damn the man, Dawn thought as he swiftly stood and began a zigzag sprint toward the building’s entrance. She overtook him a yard away from the door and dropped into a crouching run as he kicked it open and they burst across the threshold. Out of the corner of her eye she saw a blur of red race over him and then race back to the middle of his chest.
“Five o’clock low!” she barked out, swinging the Beretta in her hand to her right and firing instinctively.
Both Asher’s and her rounds caught the darkly clad figure. The man fell instantly, obviously dead before he hit the floor. Dawn ran over to the body and knelt beside it.
“Thanks for the heads-up, Swanson.” Asher’s smile was brief as he relieved the dead man of his weapon. “You think the bastard realized he got the two-for-one special?”
“Maybe.” She scanned the shadows. “But I doubt he appreciated it. I recognize this shooter, Ash, so my guess was right—this is a Lab 33 operation, courtesy of Dr. Aldrich Peters.” She stood, her expression grim. “The stairs, or cover this floor first?”
“This floor. Then we won’t have to worry about any nasty surprises coming after us when we do get to the next level.”
He made the decision without hesitation, and just as unhesitatingly, Dawn followed his lead down the darkened hallway. This was the kind of situation his SAS experiences had trained him for, she admitted. Whereas she had more often been in the position of melting into the shadows to escape those searching for her, Ash was accustomed to taking the offensive in any search-and-destroy operation. Their talents were different but complementary, she thought with a frown. It was too bad that at some point they would have to go up against each other—
