by Rebecca York
Elizabeth cleared her throat. “Yes. And…uh…he needs a wife to get her legally out of Mythos.”
“I gather a lot has happened in a short time.”
Elizabeth nodded. “Zeke called me—” she stopped short and blinked as she realized the time frame “—yesterday in a panic. When I came over to his house, he asked me to marry him. Then he told me why—sort of.” The explanation broke the dam, and words began to tumble out of her as she told Kathryn most of what had occurred since Zeke’s desperate proposal.
“That’s a lot to cope with,” the psychologist said, when Elizabeth finally wound down.
She sighed. “Yes. Sebastian Demos bursting into the kitchen was pretty frightening. Both times!”
“I’ll bet.”
“But what I keep coming back to is that Zeke said he asked me to marry him because he didn’t want any emotional involvement.” Elizabeth’s hands fluttered. “That doesn’t make me feel very good.”
“Because he’s wrong?”
She nodded tightly.
“He could have asked somebody else.”
“He could have said he cared about me!” Elizabeth shot back.
“So he’s been acting cold and impersonal since you agreed to his plan?” Kathryn asked.
“Not exactly,” she admitted in a small voice, thinking about his reaction when she’d undressed him, and then when he’d been afraid he’d cut her. It had been very physical, very intense. She didn’t know what to say about that, so she switched the subject. “The worst part is that I keep thinking about the woman who bore his child. He was in love with her, and now she’s dead. But I still see her as a rival. Pretty immature, isn’t that?”
Kathryn gave her a little smile. “I know you’re going off on a dangerous assignment, which doesn’t give us weeks to work through your feelings. So I’ll cut to the chase and tell you that your reactions are pretty normal—for a woman who cares about her relationship with a man. And from what I read between the lines, I’d guess Zeke cares, too.”
“Thank you,” she whispered.
“He turned to you at one of the worst moments of his life. That means something.”
“Because I’ve never demanded anything of him,” Elizabeth couldn’t stop herself from blurting.
“And that upsets you?”
She turned her hands palm up. “I knew Zeke was afraid of letting anyone see his vulnerabilities. I thought he was so walled up he couldn’t get close to anyone. Then I found out he got close enough to Sophia to get her pregnant.”
“That doesn’t mean he’d made a commitment. You don’t know the circumstances. Perhaps she turned to him at a bad time in her life, and the relationship got out of hand.”
Elizabeth sighed. “You’re only guessing.”
“We both are.”
“All I can think is that he loved her, and he was so hurt by her marriage that he’s been afraid to take a chance on another meaningful relationship,” she finished in a rush, astonished that she’d revealed so much.
“It may be difficult for him to talk about painful subjects. That’s often true of men who feel things deeply. They’ve been taught to keep emotions to themselves. Besides, you may be misinterpreting his relationship with Sophia. Perhaps he can’t talk about it because he feels guilty that he left her. Or even guilty that he didn’t love her and he got her pregnant.”
Elizabeth gave a little nod, clutching at the new insights Kathryn had offered.
“What do you want to happen?” Kathryn asked.
“I want it to be a real marriage,” she admitted, saying it out loud for the first time.
“Then you can’t expect him to guess at your feelings. You have to let him know what’s going on with you.”
“But what if he…he rejects me?” she asked in a strangled voice.
“You’re the only one who can decide if it’s worth the risk,” Kathryn answered.
Elizabeth was trying to absorb that, when a loud honking horn made her jump. It sounded like the dive signal in a submarine movie.
The women looked at each other, then rose in unison and hurried into the hall. Apparently, everyone else had the same idea, because the corridor was full of people. She saw Zeke, Jason, Thorn and several other men she assumed must be technicians, all running toward the lobby.
Elizabeth and Kathryn followed.
Outside, a loudspeaker was blaring. “Reduce speed now. Reduce speed now.”
Kathryn looked from Thorn to Jason. “What’s happening?”
“A truck is coming up the road at sixty miles an hour,” Jason shouted over his shoulder as he headed for the entrance. He’d opened the door a crack, when Zeke slammed it shut again. “Better wait and see what we’ve got,” he cautioned.
Jason gestured toward the scene through the window. “Yeah, well, if that truck doesn’t stop in about thirty seconds, it’s going to plow right into the main gate.”
Chapter Seven
“He won’t get through that gate,” Thorn muttered. “Not unless the vehicle is armor plated.”
Zeke moved to Elizabeth’s side, putting his body between her and the window. She pressed against him, glad for the contact with his solid frame as she moved her head a few inches so that she could see what was happening.
“Warning. Electrified Fence. Warning. Electrified Fence,” the loudspeaker blared.
The admonition appeared to have no effect on the driver of the truck. The speeding vehicle was still heading directly toward the automatic sentry where she and Zeke had halted. Elizabeth squinted at the windshield, but the reflection of the sun prevented her from determining who was behind the wheel. So she switched her attention to the outside of the truck. All she could see was a large, heavy green pickup that didn’t slow or waver on its course. When it reached the barrier, a collective gasp rose from the watchers inside the building as it struck the heavy wire mesh, setting off a shower of sparks that was accompanied by a loud sizzling noise, like a giant bug flying into an outdoor zapper. Only the zapping went on and on, as everyone stood paralyzed, watching in frozen fascination.
It seemed like hours later, but it was probably only a few seconds before Thorn bolted from the paralyzed group of people, ran down the hall, and pulled open an electrical panel where he flipped several circuit breakers. As he did, the shower of sparks stopped. He’d cut the power to the fence.
Deathly quiet hung around them.
“Good thinking,” Zeke muttered. “Stay here,” he told Elizabeth firmly as he detached himself from her and drew the gun she’d forgotten he was still wearing under his shirt.
“Where are you going?”
“Out.”
She tried to hang on to his arm, but he shrugged out of her grasp, opened the door and slipped outside.
Jason strode to a large keypad in the wall, where he began to punch in a series of numbers. When the light flashed from red to green, he yanked open a door concealed behind a metal panel that looked much like the access to the circuit breakers. But this compartment was for weapon storage. Elizabeth’s eyes widened as Jason pulled out a small machine gun, which he passed to Thorn. Then he brought out an identical weapon for himself.
“What kind of trouble are you expecting?” Elizabeth managed.
“Just making sure we’re prepared,” he snapped.
Without saying more, he and Thorn quickly followed Zeke toward the truck.
Elizabeth and Kathryn exchanged glances. “Did you know about the arsenal?” Elizabeth asked.
Kathryn shook her head as they turned toward the window.
Outside, the men scanned the road, weapons at the ready. Jason slipped through a small gate beside the guardhouse and opened the passenger door of the truck.
“The driver’s dead,” he called out to the other men, as he lowered his weapon. Their posture became more relaxed. Only Zeke still looked shocked as he peered inside the gaping door. Leaning toward Jason, he said something that made the other man’s expression tighten.
; Elizabeth strained to see what was happening. Since it didn’t look like an armed convoy was roaring up the road to attack the installation, she slipped outside and strode toward the group gathered around the truck. Kathryn was only a couple of steps behind.
“So who’s the driver?” she demanded.
Zeke grabbed her arm before she reached the vehicle. “You don’t need to look inside. It’s Sebastian.”
She goggled at him in disbelief. “Sebastian? It can’t be Sebastian. We left him tied up on my kitchen floor and…and called the police.”
Zeke nodded grimly.
“How did he get away? And how did he know where we were?”
“Good questions.” Zeke looked as dumbfounded as she.
Jason gave orders to the technicians. Two of them trotted back into the facility and returned almost at once with a rolling stretcher.
Zeke turned the two women away. “Let’s not watch this,” he said in a low voice.
Elizabeth nodded, and the three of them returned slowly to the building. Once inside, Kathryn led the way to the lounge where she and Elizabeth had talked.
“We didn’t have a clue that he was following us,” Elizabeth murmured, fighting the sick feeling that rose in her throat. “It’s like this morning—when he showed up again.”
“Whatever happened, he didn’t do it by himself this time,” Zeke observed. “In the first place, he couldn’t have untied himself—not with the techniques I used. And he wasn’t behind us. I would have seen him.”
“Maybe the police untied him, and then he escaped,” Elizabeth offered.
“I doubt it. But even if they’re completely incompetent, that still doesn’t explain how he got here,” Zeke snapped, his voice and expression reflecting both alarm and exasperation. “He wouldn’t have had any idea where to pick up our trail.”
“Good point,” Jason answered from the hallway.
Zeke gave his friend a strained look. “I’m sorry. I never should have used the phone lines to contact you,” he grated “The only thing I can figure is that he traced the call.”
“I don’t think so,” Jason answered as he stepped into the room. “Randolph Security uses privacy technology that isn’t on the market. But just as a precaution I’m having one of the men check that out now.”
There was nothing they could do at the moment, besides wait tensely for word from the communications room. Elizabeth sat still as a stone on the couch. Zeke paced back and forth across the gray tile floor. Jason stood with his arms folded, looking impatiently toward the hall. His technician came back in less than five minutes and announced that the lines were as secure as a priority military communications channel.
“Great. But we still don’t know how Sebastian tracked us here.” Zeke pounded his fist into his palm in frustration.
“And why he tried to crash through the gate, when that warning was blaring,” Elizabeth added. As she finished speaking, she saw that Thorn was standing quietly in the doorway, his expression thoughtful.
“Find anything in the truck?” Jason asked.
“Nothing definitive,” he answered. “But I’d like to hear about your previous contact with Sebastian.”
Zeke looked grim as he gave him a quick description of the two previous encounters—at his house and then Elizabeth’s.
“So your last confrontation followed a similar pattern,” Thorn mused. “You left him, assuming he couldn’t figure out where you had gone. Then he made an unexpected appearance.”
Zeke nodded tightly.
“That leads to only one logical assumption…” Thorn let the sentence trail off.
Zeke’s eyes narrowed as he followed the reasoning. “Sebastian planted some sort of tracking device on us, so he didn’t need to keep us in sight,” he muttered.
Elizabeth’s gaze was riveted to the luggage they’d brought from her house. One of the technicians had set it in the lounge. What else had they carried here besides their clothing and equipment?
“A tracking device is the most likely explanation,” Thorn agreed. “If you’re correct in your assumption that he couldn’t have freed himself, then you must consider the possibility that he is working with an accomplice who has access to the same telemetry and can duplicate his results. The fact that I didn’t find any receivers in the truck supports that hypothesis.”
As the implications of Thorn’s deductions sank in, Elizabeth felt goose bumps pop out on her arms. She rubbed her palms against the prickly flesh. “He’s dead. But someone else can find us and keep coming after us? Here and in Mythos?”
She looked from Thorn to Zeke, whose face was stark and angry. “What are we going to do?” she asked in an unsteady voice.
Zeke’s expression suddenly brightened as he turned to Thorn. “Wait a minute, last time you briefed me on your new projects, didn’t you mention that you were working on a detector to locate clandestine electronics?” he asked.
Thorn nodded. “Yes. That’s one of the contracts I have under development up here. I guess your friend Sebastian wanted to conduct a field test.”
“Then you can scan everything we brought with us,” Zeke pronounced, his voice taking on a note of excitement.
“Yes. Your luggage. The clothes you’re wearing. The transponder could be anywhere. But I’m afraid the radiation we’re using is damaging to human flesh.”
“Then how—?” Elizabeth broke off, as she realized the solution to that particular problem. They’d have to get undressed.
“So do you have something we can wear?” Zeke asked.
“I’ll see what I can find,” Kathryn volunteered and left the room.
“Hurry,” Thorn called after her then turned back to Zeke and Elizabeth. “Better yet, start taking your clothes off while I power up the equipment.”
She fought to make her voice sound normal. “You can’t mean all my clothes. How would Sebastian have hidden something in my underwear?” The last part came out as a hoarse croak.
“I don’t know,” Zeke muttered. “I also don’t know how long he was in the house. He could have had time to plant something in your dresser drawers, for all we know.”
That sounded highly unlikely, yet the stakes were too high to discount the possibility, Elizabeth silently acknowledged. The man kept showing up, and it was a miracle that he hadn’t killed Zeke. What’s more, she’d come to this group of people for help, and she was putting all of them in danger.
Thorn touched her shoulder, and she flinched. “Why don’t you go down the hall to the rest room, where you can have some privacy.”
“Fine,” she murmured, walking stiffly out of the room. She wasn’t going to refuse, but she also wasn’t going to pretend that she liked the idea. The light was off in the bathroom and she had to fumble along the wall to find the switch. Then she pulled the door shut and tried to gather her equanimity. She was in a little bathroom that opened directly onto the hallway. There wasn’t even a stall where she could retreat for a little extra screening.
Well, she might as well get it over with. Grimacing, she locked the door and pulled her knit shirt over her head. She was reaching for the hook on her bra when a knock sounded on the door, and she jumped half a foot in the air.
“It’s me,” Kathryn called out. “I’ve found something for you to wear. Crack the door and I’ll hand it in. When you’re ready, you can give me your clothes.”
Elizabeth could hear the sympathetic tone in the other woman’s voice. Maybe Kathryn was imagining how she’d feel if the shoe were on the other foot, so to speak. Only the shoes were already off, Elizabeth thought with a grim laugh.
Snapping the lock, she pushed open the door a fraction, and Kathryn stuffed a bundle of stiff fabric into her hand. When she unwadded it, she found she was holding a white lab coat. Well, that was better than trying to wrap herself in a sheet, she guessed. With a sigh, she pulled off her remaining clothes and folded them.
“Here,” she called, as she passed everything outside to Kathryn’s waiting hands.<
br />
“Thanks.”
As the other woman’s footsteps rapidly receded, she tried to get comfortable in the borrowed coat. It was several sizes too big, which was probably good, she decided as she rolled up the sleeves. At least the hem came below her knees. But one of the buttons was missing—the one right below her breasts.
She was tempted to stay in the bathroom until Thorn had finished his scan. But it was hardly an inviting environment. There was nowhere to sit besides the toilet—which was of the institutional variety and didn’t even have a seat cover. The ceramic tile floor was painfully cold beneath her bare feet, and the dimensions of the room were smaller than a jail cell.
Pulling the door open, she looked into the hall. No one was in sight. Arms tightly folded across the embarrassing gap in the front of her coat, she stepped outside and followed the sound of voices drifting toward her.
They led to a room about thirty yards down the corridor. Inside, Thorn was standing in front of a console that had a keyboard and two screens—one like an ordinary computer and the other like the luggage scanners at an airport security check. Most of the technicians she’d met earlier were ranged around him, looking alternately at Thorn and a long metal table shielded behind a thick floor-to-ceiling glass panel.
She caught a glimpse of Zeke’s head up at the front of the crowd. But she didn’t want to get any closer than she was, thank you very much. Not when everyone in the room knew she was naked under this lab coat. When she’d put it on, the fabric had felt thick. Now she imagined it revealed every curve of her body. Struggling to change the focus of her thoughts, she craned her neck toward the work area and saw that the table was illuminated by a misty purple light. Next to the unpacked luggage she and Zeke had brought was the clothing they’d been wearing. Only now the items were spread out like merchandise being offered at a yard sale. Her bra and panties were right next to Zeke’s jockey shorts—like they belonged together.
Zeke must have been listening for her. He quickly detached himself from the crowd, zeroed in on her position by the door and started toward her. He looked perfectly at ease, although he was wearing only a pair of well-washed jeans.
