Out of the Dark

by Geri Foster

  She pushed its top like a ballpoint pen. “It takes a snapshot of whatever you’re looking at. Stanley...I mean, my friend, asked me if I’d try it out while I was in Moscow since he’d been having trouble with the timing of the clicker thingy.”

  “Stanley?” Mac asked. “Who’s Stanley?”

  Pulling off the greatest acting job in creation, Emily shrugged and took a sip of wine. “Just a guy I know.”

  “So, how do we find out what you took pictures of?”

  “Only Stanley can do that.”

  “Why?”

  “It’s his creation. He developed the lens, and the flash, and the clicker and the software that develops the pictures.”

  “Where is Stanley?”

  Discussing Stanley made her uncomfortable. Even the sound of his name on her lips hurt. And explaining what a genius he was only intensified her loss. What she’d never have and what she’d live with the rest of her life.

  Besides, she hadn’t intended to test the stupid thing until her sister Victoria called Moscow and practically begged her to do Stanley the favor. The only reason Emily had to be the one to experiment with the prototype was because months ago the lens had been designed to fit Emily’s eye.

  “He lives in the DFW area,” she said.

  “Okay, so when we land, let’s pay Stanley a little visit.”

  “No!” she shouted, earning the attention of nearby passengers. Covering her mouth, she looked around at staring eyes. “I can’t go there.”

  Mac’s eyebrows drew together. “Why not? He gave you this thing, didn’t he?”

  “Yes, but I haven’t seen him since, and have no desire to.”

  “Then how were you going to deliver it to him so he could see if his invention really worked?”

  Emily gulped her wine. “Mail it.”

  Mac slumped back in his seat and finger combed his hair. “No fucking way.”

  Those were the last words they shared until the plane landed because Emily refused to tell any more than necessary. Besides, she was going home and being with a Falcon agent for the past twenty hours had proven too much. She needed to escape back to normal. Mac had already managed to open old wounds she’d hoped were healed.

  As they walked into the terminal, Emily looked around at all the things that made Texas home. The warm sun, the greenery showing off, and life back to normal. Nothing would be better than a frozen margarita and an order of chips and salsa.

  As she turned to say goodbye and wish Mac luck he grabbed her around the waist and kissed her. It took a moment, but she melted as fast as an ice cube on a hot sidewalk. She dropped her laptop and briefcase to cup his face.

  She never wanted the kiss to end. The awesome taste of male testosterone kicked her hormones into gear and made her hungry – no starving- for more.

  He finally broke the kiss, leaving her dizzy and disoriented. Their eyes met. “Thank you so much for all you’ve done. Without your help, I’d be dead.”

  Had he kissed her as a way of saying ‘thanks’?

  Well that sucked!

  Trying her best to appear unfazed, Emily forced a smile past her disappointment. “Always ready to help a client.” She blinked back any hint of tears and added, “Oh, that’s ex-client.”

  “Listen,” Mac said, taking her hand. “Don’t give up on Falcon Securities. We need people like you so we can do what we have to do to keep this country safe. Frank’s an asshole sometimes, but he’s the best human being I know.”

  Emily forced a smile, withdrew her hand, and said, “I’ll think about it.”

  “Brody is waiting outside,” he said. They’d texted Frank and he replied that an agent would be there to pick them up. “Do you need a lift?”

  “Oh no, I’m fine.” Brushing back her hair, she said, “I have a friend on the way.” No way was she going to tell him she planned to take a cab home.

  “It won’t be a problem to drop you off.”

  A client knowing where she lived was another professional no-no. She believed she was happy and successful because she managed to keep her social life and her professional career completely separate.

  But she’d managed to blow that to hell.

  They walked together only because they were going in the same direction. When the doors to the outside opened automatically, Emily took a deep breath of good old Texas air and immediately felt better.

  She turned to say her second good-bye when two men stepped forward, grabbed them both and shoved them into a dark SUV. Emily didn’t think this was the ride Mac had been expecting.

  CHAPTER SIX

  Mac struggled to get to Em, but two guys, one on each side, caught him off guard. The dark, tall one with the goatee had Em’s arms behind her back propelling her toward the open door. It pissed him off that some guy would manhandle her like that. When this ended, that son of a bitch had a smack down coming.

  Dirty rags were stuffed into their mouths to keep them from screaming, but that didn’t stop Em. She swung and kicked like a woman gone wild. Inside the SUV she kicked the skinny guy in the jaw, and after she freed one arm, out came the sharp claws.

  The burly one couldn’t stop her. Mac guessed Em didn’t weigh more than a hundred and ten pounds, but she fought like a heavyweight. Quick and furious, nothing was off limits. She kneed one guy in the groin and he doubled over. Then she smacked him in the face, grabbed his stringy hair and shook his head like can of soda.

  Somehow she’d managed to rip the gag from her mouth then screamed loud enough to gain the attention of the gate attendant as they pulled out of the airport.

  When the SUV hit the 183 freeway and headed toward Ft Worth, Mac and Em were both doing their best to get free. Mac knew the men were armed but they’d be dumb ass stupid to fire a weapon in a moving vehicle. Way too dangerous.

  The bigger man managed to clip Em on the chin and she went down hard. Mac didn’t like any man who hit a woman, no matter what the circumstances. He especially hated that the asshole had hit Em. Mac head-butted the guy in front of him then leaned against the door and kicked the attacker in the face with both feet.

  Mac yanked his hands free and the fight was on. With his arm cocked, his hand fisted, he slammed into the guy that had decked Em. A right jab and a left hook and the jerk went down for the count. The other guy with the gun pointed it at him, but Mac knocked it out of his hand and a bullet zinged through the roof.

  That got the driver nervous, and he shouted for the kidnappers to end the struggle or start killing. With the gun on the floorboard that was going to be hard.

  Mac jackhammered the goateed guy with a punch packed with two hundred and twenty pounds behind it right to the throat. The asshole flipped backwards and landed on top of Em. Mac dove for the gun and got lucky.

  He rose and leveled the weapon at the only conscious person besides himself. Placing the barrel against the back of his head, Mac shouted to the driver. “Stop the fucking vehicle, now!”

  From the glint in his eyes in the rearview mirror, Mac knew the driver was packing. “You even think of using a weapon and I’ll blow a hole in your head so big you could drive a semi through it.”

  The driver took his foot off the accelerator and hit the shoulder. Traffic sped by at a frightening rate. With the gun still on the driver, Mac grabbed Em’s arm and pulled her free. “Get up, baby girl.”

  Her head lulled sideways and her eyes fluttered. He grabbed her by the waist and pulled her against him. Pride pulsed through his body. Em had put up one helluva fight. Most women would have fainted. Goddamn, she’d make a good agent.

  With the SUV stopped and out of traffic, Mac asked, “Who sent you?”

  “I don’t know. I’m just the driver.”

  “Okay, who sent them?” he pointed to the three out cold.

  “Look man, I don’t know nothin’. These guys came to my crib and asked me if I’d like to make a couple hundred bucks. Told me all I had to do was drive.” He turned to face Mac. “I ain’t got time for this shit.
You get me, man? I’m just out for the ride. That’s all.”

  “You weren’t out for the ride when you told them to kill us.” Mac pulled back the trigger. “Look man,” he mocked. “I’m about to blow your fucking head off if I don’t get some information.”

  “I don’t know nothin’.” He held up his hand. “Honest to God.”

  A black Cadillac Escalade pulled up behind them and Brody jumped out, sporting cowboy boots and a fine looking gray Stetson. The other Falcon agent moved cautiously to the passenger’s side. Brody tapped the side of the car with the barrel of his gun.

  “Roll down the window!”

  With three guns pointed in his direction, the driver complied then covered his head with his palms.

  “How you doing, partner?” Brody Hawke asked.

  Brody was Falcon’s token cowboy. A real Old West kind of guy. Fast on the trigger and always looking for a fight. And he rarely had to look far. With the finesse of a bull rider, Brody grabbed the three hundred pound driver by the collar and slung him to the ground. He kept him there by stomping his cowboy boot against the back of the man’s neck.

  Concerned for Emily, Mac opened the door and helped her stand. She had a nice size bruise on the left side of her chin and blood stained the corner of her mouth. “You okay?”

  She shoved her hair back and glanced up at him. She never looked more beautiful. She leaned into him and he cradled her against him. “Are we safe yet?”

  “I’m working on it.”

  He took Em and put her in the backseat of the Cadillac. She immediately leaned against the headrest. He shut her in the air- conditioned car and turned back to Brody.

  “Guess you know what hell we’ve been through?”

  “We’ve been getting it piece by piece. When I saw you nabbed at the airport I called Frank. Decided I’d better follow and see what was going on,” Brody looked at the Falcon vehicle. “How’d she get involved in all this? Frank only wanted her to get you out of Russia. That’s where it should’ve ended”

  “Well, it kept getting more and more complicated. The scary part is one of those goons called her by name. They know who she is.”

  Brody spit then shook his head “That’s not good.”

  Another car pulled up and three Falcon agents got out, put the kidnappers in the car and took off. Brody watched the car pull into traffic. “Frank wants to question them at headquarters.”

  “So the hell do I.”

  “Let’s head back to the ranch, partner.”

  Smiling, Mac climbed in the passenger side and Brody drove toward Dallas. They’d be at the office in less than thirty minutes depending on traffic. There was a small fridge in the back of the vehicle. Mac leaned over and retrieved a bottle of water. After unscrewing the cap, he handed it to Em. She tipped it to her mouth.

  For some reason Mac had more questions than answers and, by God somebody sure the hell better come up with the right shit.

  Looking down at his wrist, Mac knew one thing was certain. Someone had compromised his GPS. He had a tracer on his ass.

  When the vehicle stopped and the engine turned off, Mac helped Em out of the car in the underground parking garage. It ripped at his conscience that she looked so shaken. The wrinkled clothes, tangled hair and all the bruises. Any make-up she might have been wearing was long gone. “You okay?” he asked again.

  “No, I’m not okay.” The growl in her voice affirmed she definitely wasn’t in a good mood. Who could blame her? She’d been fighting for her life since Moscow. And he knew she had to be exhausted. Dead tired and ready for this entire trip to be over.

  They entered the building directly from the parking garage then shoved open the door to Falcon Securities. The receptionist, Zoe, jumped from her chair.

  “My goodness, what happened to you?”

  “Can you take Ms. Richards to the ladies room and let her freshen up a little?” Mac asked. Emily couldn’t be in more loving arms. God help them all, but Zoe Ross loved everyone and everything. There was no kinder person on earth.

  Zoe wrapped her arm around Em, and pulled her tightly against her side. “Come with me, sweetheart. We’ll have you back to normal in no time.” As they walked away, Zoe gave the two agents a concerned glance.

  After exchanging looks, Mac and Brody entered Frank’s office. Behind the large oak desk sat the leader and commander of Falcon Securities. An ex-CIA Director with a Marine attitude and a mouth like a Boatswain’s Mate.

  “What the hell is going on, Mac?” Frank pointed to the door. “Why in the hell did you drag her into this mess?” His face brightened and Mac guessed his blood pressure soared. “And just what in the holy hell have you gotten into?”

  Weary, Mac slumped in a large chair across from Frank and dragged his fingers through his hair. “I don’t know. I wrapped up that mess in St. Petersburg. When I was finished, there wasn’t anything we’d have to go back and clean up. Jake made sure of that.”

  Frank said, “Tony is on his way back to the States now. If I can keep from it, I’m not sending him out for a while. It’s getting too hot.”

  “It’s getting too hot for all of us. You know the Russian mob is getting more powerful by the day. Used to be the military was all we had to worry about. I heard rumors they’re dealing in nuclear shit.”

  “I’ve heard that too, but unless we’re called in on an assignment, we’ll leave it be,” Frank said.

  “Em...Miss Richards and I were attacked at Heathrow. Ugly guy said something about Bruno and Ramón Marino. That’s never good.”

  “No, it’s not,” Frank agreed. “Don’t you have a handler on him?”

  “We lost him in Columbia,” Mac said. “Last I heard Marino and his drug cartel were setting up business in Bogotá. But I spoke to Tony and he said Marino wasn’t there. If Tony can’t sniff him out, he’s gone way underground.”

  “Tony’s due in soon. You hear any shit, Brody, you call in Jake. I mean the slightest noise.”

  Brody nodded.

  Concerned deepened the lines on Frank’s face. That didn’t fare well for the agents.

  “You got it, boss,” Brody said. His brows wrinkled as he looked at Mac. “I always figured as much as Marino hated you, when he wanted you dead, he’d do it himself.”

  Frank slapped his desk. “We don’t know that’s not his plan. Guys in London might have just been following an order to deliver you to Marino.”

  “Could be,” Mac said. “But after all this time?”

  “Grudges last forever, son, and in his mind, you’re the reason his sister is dead.”

  “I didn’t kill her. A Mexican sniper took her out, not me.”

  “No matter, you kidnapped her out of that convent outside of France.”

  Mac didn’t like being reminded of that. He hadn’t meant for it to go down that way. But when the shooting started, there was no stopping. Angelina Marino was in the crossfire.

  “I didn’t mean for her to be killed.”

  “I know that, but Marino doesn’t care. It’s a matter of family honor.”

  “He doesn’t have any fucking honor.”

  “Tell him about you being tagged,” Brody said.

  Mac leaned back and propped his elbows on the chair, his palms clasped. “I went to the snitch in St. Petersburg like we arranged. He gave me the thumb drive I sent to the NSA. When I walked out of the apartment, I looked down and three guys were waiting on the bottom landing for me. I took out two, cleared a window and started running.”

  “That assignment came straight from the DOD,” Frank said. “That snitch had valuable information that the President wanted kept out of enemy hands.”

  “I called Tony and he found me a ride to Moscow. When I hit the city limits, you directed me to Em’s...Ms. Richards’ hotel.”

  “I’m with you so far,” Frank said.

  “Okay, I’m there less than a couple hours and two guys bust in the door with killing on their minds and loaded guns in their hands.”

  �
�You get caught on the hotel surveillance camera?” Brody asked.

  “They didn’t see my face,” Mac said. “Then Ms. Richards and I get to her fancy private plane and a goddamn RPG comes flying at us out of nowhere.”

  “I got that phone call,” Frank grumbled.

  “Then we get to London and there are three of Marino’s guys waiting for us. Said Bruno sent them.” Mac stood and started pacing the office. “This is where it gets interesting.” He looks back at Frank and Brody. “The guys wanting to kill us knew Em’s name. And that she was in possession of a high level camera she’d been testing for a friend.”

  “What?” Brody whistled softly. “Damn, this would make a good movie.”

  “What the hell is this about a camera?” Frank asked then looked at Brody. “And every mission we take could be a movie.”

  Mac waved him off. “I’ll let her tell you about that. But back to what I was saying. We make it out of Heathrow alive only to land at DFW and find more men waiting for us. I don’t know what’s going on, but someone has hacked my signal.”

  “I don’t think anyone can do that,” Frank said rubbing his chin. “I’m the only person who knows where you guys are all the time.”

  “Who tells you?” Brody asked.

  Silence grew like a balloon filling with water. Frank picked up the phone. “Get Josh Bozeman on the phone.”

  “I didn’t know anyone could hack into our system,” Brody added.

  Frank put his hand over the receiver. “They can’t.”

  “Bozeman!” Frank shouted into the phone. “One of my guys has been compromised. Mac McKinsey. Don’t bother to ask me how I know. I just do. You find out how this happened, who the son of a bitch is, and I want him hung out to dry. I want Mac’s signal changed immediately. You fix this mess. You got twelve hours, or I’m coming to Washington to tear somebody apart.”

  Frank slammed the phone down, leaned back in his chair and studied Mac.

  “Should we have my chip removed?” Mac asked.