He mumbled and sat up, rubbing his eyes. “What time is it?”
“It’s almost seven o’clock.” She pointed to the alarm clock on the nightstand. “We’ve been sleeping the whole afternoon.”
“I don’t know about you, but I needed it.” He covered his yawn with a fist. “How do you feel? Any more headaches? Soreness in your shoulder?”
Acute embarrassment for jumping his bones? Check.
“I feel fine, but no memories, no dreams.” She massaged her forearm. “My arm feels bruised, though.”
“Probably some residual injury.” He swung his legs over the bed. “Once we get out of this country, we’ll take care of your head.”
“If you’re not using government shrinks, I don’t know how we can march into a psychiatrist’s office with this crazy story.”
“We’re not going to do that. I have connections.” He winked and pushed up from the bed. “Where do you want to eat? I suppose room service isn’t an option here.”
“I noticed a few restaurants back by the chemist. Are we meeting Jose nearby?”
“We’ll take a taxi to the meeting, which is in the area of San Felipe. Lots of restaurants there.”
“Nice ones?” She glanced down at her newly purchased jeans.
“I’m sure there are some casual places, too.” He pulled open the blinds. “You might want to take the rain jacket you bought—looks like a few showers on the way.”
Those showers made an appearance by the time they’d left the room. As they stood on the wet sidewalk in front of the hotel, Randi flipped up the hood on her jacket.
Gage stepped in front of her to hail the first available taxi that careened around the corner.
As they clambered inside, Randi asked the driver for a few restaurant recommendations in San Felipe.
He answered in English. “Ah, Casco Viejo. That’s what we call it. The restaurants and nightclubs there are very expensive. Something like that?”
“No, something a little cheaper. No nightclubs.”
“I will take you to a street near the Palacio de las Garzas. Many choices there.”
They sat back as the driver maneuvered through the rain-slicked streets, which grew narrower as they approached the old part of town.
He squealed to a stop at the curb in front of the French Embassy. “I can’t take the car through, but if you turn left up ahead you will find plenty of restaurants.”
Colored lights glowed from the restaurants and bars, some in restored colonial buildings, lining the street. They agreed on a place with an ornate balcony dotted with tables.
As Gage pulled out the chair for her, Randi closed her eyes and inhaled the scent of rain and sea. She didn’t know if she’d ever been to Panama City before, but she wouldn’t mind coming back—to this very spot, with this very man.
“Nice, huh?”
She opened her eyes and met Gage’s intense, blue gaze. “I like it. In another time, in another situation...”
She took a sip of water, hiding her face with the glass. She didn’t want him to know that she’d been thinking about sharing this scenario with him when they had time to relax, when she knew her identity.
“I think this nightmare will be over for you soon, when you get your memory back.”
“Or maybe it will be just the beginning of my nightmare.” She flicked her fingers. “We spend too much time talking about who I might be, and no time talking about who you are. How’d you get into the covert-ops business?”
His face closed down and tightened like it always did when the conversation turned to him, as little as that happened.
“I was in the military first. I told you that, didn’t I?”
“Yes, but I don’t imagine that the majority of men and women in the service up and decide to join a covert-ops team, do they?”
“I didn’t join. I was recruited.”
“Ah, and you answered the call of duty.”
“Something like that.”
“And your father is a politician. What kind? School board member or senator?”
“Senator.”
She choked on her water. “I was just kidding.”
“I wasn’t.”
“I-is your father going to hear about your daring escape from the CIA compound in Colombia?”
“Probably.” Gage clenched his jaw.
“But he’ll be on your side, right?”
Gage shrugged and ran his fingertip down the menu selections. “Seafood should be good.”
“He won’t be on your side?”
“If he is, it would be a first.” He snapped the menu shut. “Look, can we stop talking about my father?”
She held up her hands. “If we can stop talking about Zendaris.”
“One is pertinent to our predicament. The other is not.”
“Your father might be pertinent if he can help us out. If the CIA has put us on the wrong side of international law, maybe your father the senator can bring us back to the right side.”
Gage snorted and spun his menu around to face her. “How does this sound? That’s garlic, right?”
“It sounds delicious. We’ll make it two.”
Their conversation continued throughout the meal but with Gage’s background off-limits and hers nonexistent, they talked about their impressions of Panama and Colombia, and Gage compared the countries to others he’d visited, or more likely, worked in.
He’d been all around the world and if Randi had to take a guess, those trips had all been of the covert variety.
Neither of them had alcohol with dinner. Too much was riding on their meeting with Jose. So they shared a dessert over two cups of strong Panamanian coffee.
Randi held the cup to her nose and breathed in. “It smells rich, like moist earth and rain, and the jungle.”
Gage took a sip of his brew sans cream and sugar. “It tastes just like that, too.”
“Those smells will always trigger memories of this time, no matter what happens in the future.”
He clicked his cup into the saucer and covered her hand with his. “Randi, what happened between us back at the hotel...”
She snatched her hand away and hid it in her lap. “Won’t happen again. I’m sorry. I don’t know what came over me. I think I just got carried away, overwhelmed by the moment and my circumstances. I know all you want from me is my mind, what I can tell you about Zendaris.”
“It’s not like that.” He pushed his cup away and planted his elbows on the table. “I’m attracted to you. Why deny it? But getting involved with you like that—physically—it’s not right. It’s exploiting you and your vulnerability.”
She widened her eyes. He’d pushed her away for her own good? “Don’t say anything more. I understand.”
“If you think for one minute I didn’t want you, didn’t want to take you, make you mine.” He slouched back in his seat and grabbed his coffee. “That’s not helping, is it?”
It had been helping. His declaration had made her feel less like a loser—unless it was all part of his plan.
Shaking her head, she said, “Let’s just stick to business.”
“And we have a business meeting in fifteen minutes.” He took one more bite of their tres leches cake, and then inched the dessert toward her. “Do you want to finish it?”
“If I take another bite, you’ll have to take another picture of me for my ID, since I’ll be twenty pounds heavier than this afternoon.”
They paid the bill and wandered down to the street. The light rain had turned to a steady downpour, and Randi tugged the hood of her jacket around her head, tucking her hair inside.
“Can we walk to the meeting place?”
“This way.” Gage took her arm and they delved deeper into the twisting streets of Casco Viejo.
The later hour had brought out more people, the nightlife and lights of the district attracting them like moths to a flame. But Gage moved her away from the crowds.
They turned a corner and found themselves at the to
p of some crumbling steps leading to a lower-level street.
Gage threaded his fingers through hers. “Down here.”
Knots tightened in Randi’s belly as they descended to the uneven street, a single streetlamp throwing a minuscule circle of light on the sidewalk.
“Are you sure you can trust this guy?”
“Absolutely. With my life.”
“And mine?”
He squeezed her hand but still tugged her in his wake until they were standing next to the streetlamp.
Seconds later, the scuffing of heels approached from a different direction.
Randi nestled closer to Gage.
A man emerged from the shadows, and Randi’s body tensed, her eyes straining to see the figure in the darkness.
He stepped into the light, a large grin splitting his face. “My friend. Long time, no see, verdad?”
Gage lunged forward and grabbed Jose’s outstretched hand. “Long time, no see, but I know I can always count on you, Jose. This is Randi.”
“Señorita. Que bonita. As pretty as your picture.”
“Gracias.” Randi shook Jose’s rough hand.
Jose glanced over his shoulder and his gaze tripped up the steps. “A better place. Vamos.”
With Randi clinging to his side, Gage followed Jose. They descended another set of stairs, and Randi sniffed the dank air. They had to be below sea level.
Jose ran his hand along a decrepit wall and stopped where it seemed to plow into a stone edifice. “The old tunnels of the city. When invaders came to our shores, we hid beneath the city. They found Panama but not the Panamanians.”
He grinned and disappeared into a black hole.
Randi’s heart pounded so hard it rattled the zipper on her jacket.
But Gage followed Jose without hesitation, so she did, too.
A sconce on the wall cast weak illumination, but Jose seemed satisfied. He withdrew a large manila envelope from inside his jacket. “It’s all here, my friend—passports, Texas driver’s licenses, visas, cash.”
“I have cash.”
Jose’s head jerked up. “Shh.”
Randi’s throat was so dry she couldn’t swallow. She put her hand against the wall to brace herself, but it slipped off the slime clinging to the rock.
Thrusting a hand in one pocket, Jose said, “Echoes from the streets above. Take the cash. I get a good—how do you say it?—retainer, from Señor Coburn.”
He handed the envelope over to Gage and he also zipped it inside his jacket. “Our business is done...my friend.”
Jose’s gaze skittered over Gage’s shoulder and the whites of his eyes popped in the dark tunnel.
Randi felt a rush of air behind her. Then an arm curled around her neck and ripped her from Gage’s side.
Chapter Ten
The arm choked off Randi’s scream. The person attached to the arm dragged her back. A click resounded close to her ear.
“Don’t move or I’ll shoot her.”
Gage, who’d been crouching against the wall, sprang forward. He moved in swiftly with a karate-style chop to the hand holding the gun.
Randi’s assailant staggered, loosening his grip on her.
Crouching, Gage hooked an arm around her waist and yanked her toward him while driving the heel of his palm into the man’s throat.
A gunshot echoed in the tunnel and Randi screamed. She was falling. Falling from the balcony. She thrust her arms out to her sides to keep her balance, but it was no use. She crashed through the wood.
The children.
“Randi? Are you okay?”
Randi’s eyelids flew open. She was lying on top of Gage, her nose pressed into his chest. Was the man going to grab her again? Was he going to shoot her again?
Gage cupped her head with his hands and tilted it back. “Did he hurt you?”
“Where is he?” She pumped her legs and rolled from Gage.
Jose was kneeling beside her attacker. He looked over his shoulder. “I think he’s dead.”
“You think?” Gage dragged himself up from the pavement. “Why the hell did you shoot him, Jose? Now I can’t question him.”
Jose patted the dead man’s cheek. “Es Americano, my friend.”
Gage swore as he helped Randi to her feet. “You’re okay, Randi?”
She nodded and he propped her against the moss-covered wall since her knees were shaking so badly she couldn’t stand on her own.
He joined Jose, facing him across the body. “Does he have any ID on him?”
“Not that I can find.” Jose rummaged through the man’s pockets.
“Do you know him? Have you seen him before?”
“No. I think he was here for you.” He jerked his thumb at Randi. “The señorita.”
Randi’s whole body started trembling and she slid down the wall to her haunches.
Gage left the body to stand beside her, placing his hand on her shoulder. “I think you’re right, but how? How did they find us?”
Jose dragged an object from the man’s front pants pocket and whistled as he brought it close to his face. “I think this is the answer.”
Gage slipped his hand beneath Randi’s arm to help her to her feet, but she wasn’t sure she wanted to see what Jose cradled in his hand.
He balanced a black, square object on his palm and showed it to them.
Gage plucked it from his hand and turned it over. “Unbelievable. They must’ve put something in my bag or backpack when I was sedated.”
Randi grabbed Gage’s arm as he reached for his backpack sitting on the ground. “What is it?”
He straightened up, clutching the backpack, his mouth grim. “It’s a GPS tracking device, Randi. Jessup and Dr. Murdoch have been tracking our movements since we left the compound.”
She pressed a fist against her mouth, and her stomach rolled.
Gage dug through the pack. “The problem is the devices can be really small. It could be anywhere. I don’t understand how they got to my bags, and I’m not even wearing the same clothes I had on there.”
“It’s not in the backpack.” Randi hugged herself, her fingers massaging her inner forearm through the slick material of her jacket. “It’s not in your other bag, either, or your clothes.”
“What are you talking about?”
She shoved the sleeve of the jacket up her arm and pointed to the inside of her elbow. “It’s in me.”
* * *
GAGE DROPPED THE BACKPACK to the wet cement. Of course. They’d had her spread out on that table at their mercy. Even if they hadn’t predicted his rescue of Randi, they’d want to keep tabs on her at all times once they’d gotten her pregnant.
“How do you know this, Randi?”
“My arm. It’s been bothering me ever since we fled the compound. Dr. Coolidge took my blood from the same spot, but I’ve been feeling more than a pinprick and he just stabbed me once. There are two holes in my arm.”
Gage took her arm and ran the pad of his finger along her flesh. “It’s there, Randi. They implanted a chip in your arm.”
She stepped back from him, her dark eyes glassy. “You have to dump me, Gage. They’ll find you, too.”
He pulled her into his arms. “That’s not going to happen. We’ll disable it.”
“C-can you do that?”
“There’s a device that can block the signal.”
She melted against his body. “Of course you’d have something. I should’ve known I could count on you.”
He stroked her hair. “There’s only one problem—I don’t have that device with me. But I can get someone to send it to me.”
“You’re not going to have time for that.” Jose tossed the GPS tracker up in the air and caught it. “They probably have another spy out here. When they can’t contact this one—” he aimed a kick at the dead man “—they will send another.”
Randi stiffened in his arms. “Jose is right. You should go now, drop me off at the police station or something.”
Shaking h
er gently, Gage said, “Don’t be ridiculous. You don’t think those people will figure out some story to get you away from the police?”
“There’s another way, my friend.” Jose held up a knife, its blade gleaming in the low light of the tunnel.
“No.” Gage held her tighter. “We can’t cut it out of her.”
Jose held out the knife, pinching the blade between his fingers. “If you can feel it beneath her skin, it is just below the surface. You can get it.”
Randi squirmed from Gage’s embrace. “He’s right. Get it out of me. I know where it is. I’ve felt the bump. You felt it. Take it out, Gage.”
She took the knife from Jose and presented it to him. “Do it.”
“Uno momento.” Jose held up a finger and ran from the cave, leaping over the dead man.
“Where’s he going?”
“Knowing Jose, he’s going to get something or someone to make this a little easier on you. Are you sure you want to do this?”
“What choice do we have? They could track us down again while we’re waiting for the blocking device to get here. We wouldn’t have one moment of peace.”
Had they had one moment of peace yet?
Gage couldn’t talk her out of it. He didn’t know if he wanted to talk her out of it.
When footsteps squelched against the wet pavement, Gage drew his weapon and tucked Randi behind him.
Jose appeared at the entrance to the tunnel, carrying a bottle. “A few sips of this, and you won’t mind the knife.”
He twisted off the cap from the bottle of tequila and handed it to Randi.
She wrapped both hands around the bottle and put it to her lips. Her eyes screwed up and her nose wrinkled as she downed the booze.
When she came up for air, a tear rolled down her cheek. “Whew, that’s strong.”
Gage urged, “Take a few more swigs. Too bad we ate so much for dinner. It would’ve been more effective on an empty stomach.”
She gulped down another shot and wiped her mouth with the back of her hand. “Oh, I don’t know. This is pretty effective.”
She tipped another quantity of the golden liquid down her throat and coughed and spluttered.
“Whoa.” Gage took the bottle from her. “I think you’re enjoying this too much.”
Trap, Secure: Navy SEAL Security Page 12
