by Alice Ward
Agent Lyle Stevens was dressed like a stoner, his baggy shirt and long shorts practically to his knees. “Do I look like a burnout?”
I waved a hand in front of my face. “Yeah. If the shorts didn’t give you away, the smell does. You’re making me high just standing near you.”
David Tanner was the opposite, playing the role of a preppy tourist, his pink polo shirt and khaki shorts neatly starched.
I turned back to Moore. “We should check in with security now.” Leading the other agents, we left the jet after I stowed my bags in the overhead compartment. I’d be leaving with them, no matter how it all went down. I wouldn’t be able to go back to Zane. A thing I was thinking way too much about.
I had to put all that out of my mind and be the agent I was.
Miranda walked next to me as we went into the terminal and headed straight to the security desk. Just as we walked up, a man dressed in an expensive-looking suit spotted Miranda and gaped.
The guy actually reached out, taking her by the arm. “I hope you’re staying at the Coco Bodu Hithi Resort.”
Miranda looked at him with a sly smile. “Sorry, no.”
“If you have reservations elsewhere, change them. I promise you’ll have a better time at my resort.” His dark eyes moved over her like he wanted to eat her up.
Miranda had nerves of steel though. She wasn’t shaken one bit. “Some other time. Thanks for the invitation.”
“If you change your mind, drop by my resort. I’ll be there the entire month. My private bungalow has a guest room I’ll keep open for you if you think you might come for a visit, Miss…?”
She extended her hand. “Moore, Miranda Moore. And who are you?”
He grinned. “McClain, Gavin McClain.” He took her hand, leaving a kiss on top of it. “Tell them at the front desk your name and that you’re there for me. I’ll leave word with the manager. Please come see me, Miranda Moore. I would very much like to see you again.”
With a confident nod, Miranda smiled. “We’ll see, Mr. McClain. I really must go now.”
Releasing her hand, the tall, muscular man who looked to be in his early thirties seemed reluctant to let her walk away. “Remember my offer.”
I stared at her as we continued to our destination. “What the hell, Moore?”
She winked, and the veteran agent actually looked a little flushed. “I have no idea, but I do have vacation time I can use. How’s life on the island?”
A pang went through me. “It’s good. Very good.”
“I do like a tall, dark, and handsome man.” She looked back at him over her shoulder. “Maybe I will take a much-needed vacation after this is over.”
I smiled, another pang hitting me as I thought of my own tall, dark, and handsome. But I pushed it away as we approached the security desk.
“We need to speak to head of security.” We discreetly flashed our badges and were taken into a room behind the small desk. The staff had already been prepped and were expecting us. I only prayed one of them wouldn’t turn, tipping off the mobster for a well-lined wallet. It had happened before, and it was a risk we had no choice but take.
Because I was in danger of being recognized and was the most junior agent on the team, I was planted in a backroom, a wall of monitors in front of me. From there, I could see nearly every part of the airport.
After a mic check, the other three dispersed to the assigned area to watch and wait, and I was pleased with how well the agents fit in.
Fifteen minutes later, my gut tightened as Smith strolled in, taking a seat near Tanner, who was flipping through a golf magazine. I reported to the development to my fellow agents. “Our rabbit is ironically wearing head to toe white this morning.”
Tanner didn’t even flinch, just cleared his throat as an affirmative that he’d heard me. I studied him, hoping I’d be as good as him one day.
Smith flipped through an old magazine as he waited, not looking at all like the bastard he was. He was so relaxed, one would never guess his status or that he was waiting for a henchman to take out a woman he suspected was an agent.
I gritted my teeth as I watched the man. I looked forward to taking him down. The world would be better off with that man behind bars.
Listening in to air control, I learned that our target’s flight had wheels on the ground and was rolling to the gate. I reported the development, adrenaline surging through my system. It was about to happen. Good or bad, it was all going down.
Stevens had been leaning on the wall, acting like he was looking through his cell phone, a huge pair of headphones covering his ears as he bobbed his head to the music. He walked straight by Smith, going to buy a cup of coffee, I knew. I watched Smith look over his shoulder at Stevens then shake his head and grin. He must’ve been smiling because Stevens reeked of marijuana. He had doused himself with that scent to make his cover more real. It looked like it was working.
The first few people came off the plane. The rest trickled in, and I spotted the men who looked out of place. They wore black suits, complete with black hats that were tilted just enough it made their faces impossible to see.
Before I pointed them out, I wanted to make sure Smith was going for them. He sat perfectly still though. Maybe I was just going for the most likely suspects. I kept looking, but my eyes went back to Smith as he got up and went to a small bookstore. He went inside, and I changed the monitor I was looking at to follow him.
Placing some cash on the counter, he was given a black bag the clerk took from under the desk. He walked back out, and I changed monitors again. Very smoothly, the men in black fell in step several yards behind him. If they had even made eye contact, I hadn’t been able to see it.
This was clearly not their first visit.
I reported the development, providing descriptions. “They’re on the move.”
Stevens moved first, coffee cup in one hand, his phone in the other, tapping away with his thumb. For the casual observer, the collision was an accident. A distracted walker not paying attention. Coffee splashed all over Smith’s nice white suit as the men collided. I hoped that it was hot.
“What the fuck?” I heard Smith shout over Stevens’ wire.
Like true practiced criminals, Smith dropped the black bag, and one of the men picked it up, heading toward the men’s room.
“Move in, Tanner,” I said in my mic.” Men’s room. Moore, create a distraction. Shout at Smith that he dropped his black bag.”
There was no hesitation. “Hey, Mister.” Moore hurried up to him, her face a mask of concern. “Those men took your bag. I saw them.”
Smith, still irate about being doused with hot coffee, tried to wave her off. “I’m sure you’re mistaken.”
“But I saw it,” Moore crowed, pointing after the men. “I’ll get security for you.”
“No!” Smith shouted, grabbing her arm. He looked around him, noticing people staring, and lowered his voice. “I’ll take care of it. Thank you.”
At the same time, Tanner intercepted the men. “The lady is right. I saw you steal from that man.” He pulled his phone from his pocket like he was a do-gooder calling 911.
Then everything happened at once. Guns were pulled, punches were thrown. My heart pounded as I could do nothing but watch the screens, rooting for the good guys.
I didn’t breathe again until all three goons were on the floor.
Smith was spewing threats and claiming false arrest as handcuffs were snapped around his wrists. The other men were less vocal but very menacing as they were cuffed and patted down, the local authorities coming in to assist.
I sat back in my seat, my heart still hammering, hands trembling from the rush of adrenaline that was slowly fading from my system. There was still a mile-deep pile of red tape we’d have to wade through to make the charges stick, but we had them for now.
Dropping my face in my hands, I let out a long breath. After all the buildup, the actual takedown was almost a disappointment. Had I really drugged and lied to th
e man I was crazy about for… this?
Yes.
Yes, I had.
Of course, things could have gone much differently, I reasoned with myself. Shots could have been fired. Injuries. Fatalities. We’d been lucky to have such a well-trained team assembled, and things had gone exactly as planned.
Maybe Zane would understand and forgive me. With things having gone so smoothly, maybe I wouldn’t have to leave after all.
Hope filled my chest, and I pushed up from my seat.
I’d find him. I’d tell him the truth. I—
“Don’t move, darlin’.”
I froze, barely groaning as the gun drove into my back. Fingers came over my mouth before I could react or make a sound. Hot garlic breath was sickening as the man pressed his lips to my ear.
“Do exactly as I say.”
He yanked out my earpiece and crushed it under his foot. The mic was next. The man knew what he was doing. I nodded, forcing my breath in and out of my lungs, needing the oxygen to clear my head so I could think myself out of this mess.
Who was this man? Where had he come from? Was he on the plane, and if so, how had I missed him?
So many questions, so few answers. But I knew one thing… if he was my assassin, I would already be dead. So what did he want? And did I have any leverage on my side?
As he guided me through the office door, I caught a glimpse of his reflection in the glass. From what I could tell, he was holding a revolver. Another tell. This man wasn’t planning on leaving shells for evidence.
Another glimpse told me he was wearing a suit. Not black this time. Something lighter. Cream or taupe.
Passing the security desk, I saw a guard on the floor, blood spilling around him from a brutal-looking neck wound.
The gun jammed harder into my back, and the man whispered, “Act natural, darlin’.”
“What do you want?” My voice was calmer than I expected it to be.
“Something that’s mine.”
“And what exactly would that be?”
His grip on my arm was excruciating, his fingers digging nearly to the bone when he answered with one word. “Smith.”
Damn.
I swallowed. “That’ll be a problem.”
He chuckled. “Only if your superior doesn’t value your life like I hope.”
It was a trade. Smith for me.
“No.”
He chuckled again. “Spunky. I like that.”
“Freeze!”
It was Miranda’s voice. She was behind us, but I knew it was her.
The man whirled, his arm coming up around my neck, dragging me with him. The gun nearly cracked a rib as he pulled me back against him. His back was to the wall, leaving me to shield him from the front.
“Easy…” It was Miranda again, her gun up, spectators screaming and running for cover. From the corner of my eye, I saw Tanner ease behind a potted plant, his pink shirt barely hidden.
“Smith for the girl,” the man behind me yelled. “Trade goes down on the tarmac, under my terms.”
Miranda met my eyes, and she gave me an almost imperceptible shake of her head.
No, I mouthed, hoping she understood. They couldn’t give Smith up. He was too important to our cause.
I raised one finger, pointing right.
“You’ll let Ms. Anderson go unharmed?” Miranda asked, keeping the man talking.
“Yeah. Follow my instructions and the trade will go smoothly.”
I raised a second finger, my heart throbbing in my temples. The air in my lungs struggled to get past the arm clutching my throat.
As I raised my third finger, all I could think about was Zane.
I’m so sorry.
Three.
I leaped into action. Bringing my elbow around, I ducked and turned, moving as fast as possible.
Bam!
Bam! Bam!
The man dropped to the floor, his cream-colored suit blossoming with red.
“No!” Miranda’s eyes were wide in horror. “Sloane!”
Why was she looking at me that way? Why was she rushing to me?
Why was I falling?
Why was the world growing dark?
And why couldn’t I feel any of it?
CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE
Zane
As pissed and hurt as I was, I wasn’t about to let Sloane do everything on her own. She could be badly hurt or killed if I did that.
If she wasn’t already.
I had no idea when she’d left me. No idea how far behind her I was. But it was still early, the sun was just beginning to come up.
I moved at hyper speed to get dressed and grab my bags to head out. Luckily, a speedboat had just come in, bringing in more guests. That told me that the hit men most likely had arrived. A lot earlier than Smith had us believing.
The bastard.
On board, the boat took an agonizing forty minutes to get to the airport. My heart was pounding as I thought about all the things that could be happening to Sloane right now.
Yes, I was mad as hell at her for her deceit, but my anger could wait until I was sure she was all right. If I could ever fucking get there!
The questions stirred in my head, flooding my mind with doubt. Was everything between us a lie? Was she that good of an actress?
Or was I just that big of a fool?
As much as I wanted to protect her, I had to think about myself too. Setting myself up for her to lie to again and again wouldn’t be healthy for me. It would tear me apart eventually. I had a lot to think about, and so did she. And we’d do that, either together or separately.
I wondered about the plans we’d made, or rather, I made. As I looked back on it all, going over every little word we’d said in the last couple of days, I had been the one who made plans. She simply went along with them.
Could it be she never meant to follow through with any them?
I had so much to ask her. And I’d get my answers. If I had to hook that woman up to a lie detector to get to the bottom of everything, I damn well would.
If I found her, that is. Everything centered on that. And her being okay.
When I finally saw the main island, I thanked God I was almost there. I caught sight of a black jet taking off, and something told me she was in it. It wasn’t marked as far as I could see. No signs of it being FBI, but I felt it in my bones.
I shook my head to clear it. It couldn’t be her. I couldn’t have missed her by that small amount of time.
But what if I had?
What if she was gone?
Hope was fast retreating as fear took its place. Everything felt like it was spinning. My head felt light, and I leaned over, putting my head between my knees so I wouldn’t pass out.
The boat cruised into the dock. After a sharp turn that had us coming in sideways, we stopped. A hand touched my shoulder. “You okay?”
“No.” I looked up at the captain. “But it’s not your fault.” A porter came, grabbing my luggage, sensing my urgency as I was hustled to the airport.
The first thing I noticed was how electric the atmosphere was when I got inside. People were talking excitedly to one another. I looked around and saw no sign of Sloane.
Thinking the best place to start would be at the security station, I went there with my cell in hand. Pulling up one of the pictures I took of us together, I showed it to the small woman who stood behind the desk. “I’m Zane Boyd, and I’m looking for this woman.”
Her brown eyes flashed wide, but only for a second before her expression went back to normal. She gestured for me to come to the room that was behind her. “If you come this way, we might be able to help you, Mr. Boyd.”
Based on her expression and actions, I wasn’t sure if I should be relieved. I followed her as the man who carried my baggage put it down. He shook his head, backing away. “I’m not going in there.”
Weird.
With no time to ask questions, I tipped the man and picked up my bags myself, carrying them into the lit
tle office. A rotund, walrus-looking man stood up when I entered the room. The door closed behind me, and I heard it lock. My spine bristled. Now I understood why the porter hesitated.
“You are looking for Sloane Anderson?” The man gestured to the small wooden chair in front of his desk, and I tried not to show my surprise that he knew her name. I hadn’t said it, only shown the picture. “You are Zane Boyd, the man Ms. Anderson’s been staying with, no?”
“I am. Do you know where she is? I need to find her.”
Hope that I was going to find her swirled together with terror that I was too late.
Then the man smirked at me and crossed his arms over his bulging stomach. “If a woman wanted to be found, then she would be. Please leave the airport. There is nothing here for you.”
I just stared at him, anger seeping through my pores. “Can you at least tell me if she’s okay?” I placed my hands on his paper littered desk. I wasn’t leaving without some answers.
“Okay?” He rubbed his chin. “Why wouldn’t she be? That woman is more than capable of defending herself. Even more so than most men.”
My chest finally relaxed.
She was okay.
“Can you tell me what happened? I’ve been a nervous wreck since I woke up and found her gone. She and I had plans. We were going to live together. Fuck, maybe get married…” I trailed off as the man’s smirk grew into a look of outright sympathy.
“I hate to break it to you, Mr. Boyd, but you were used.” He leaned forward and placed his elbows on the table, threading his thick fingers together. “Agents must use every available resource, and I’m sure the US government appreciates not only your participation but your confidentiality as well.”
My heart cracked, then sank to the bottom of the ocean. “Did she actually say that I was only her cover?”
He exhaled a long breath that stank of cigarettes and coffee, even from this distance. “No. She didn’t say anything about you at all. We were briefed by another agent that you might be making inquiries. I was told to break the news gently.”
I couldn’t believe it.
“She told me she was FBI.” It occurred to me she could’ve even lied about that. “Was she?”
