by Karen Fenech
He sneered. “Boom!” He lost consciousness.
Burke was still holding Richard’s formula in his fist. He shoved the pages in his pocket as he vaulted onto the boat.
“Eve!”
“The bomb is going to blow! Go! Leave!” She reached out and frantically pushed him away. “Get off the boat, John! Go now!”
Burke did not respond. He focused on the bomb. The wires connecting the bomb were red, white, and blue. The irony was not lost on him.
The colored wires meant nothing to him. Lanski was right. Burke did not know how to deactivate it.
“John - please, ple-ase. Just go!” Her voice broke. “Go . . . ”
He couldn’t deactivate the bomb so he would have to remove it from Eve. He scanned the boat, looking for something he could use to cut the straps securing the bomb to her. A knife in the bottom of the boat gleamed in the sunlight.
“Hold still, baby.”
Burke blinked sweat from his eyes and cut the two straps. He dropped the knife, yanked the harness from Eve. Raising his arm high, he flung the bomb into the lake. As he pushed Eve down, into the boat’s hull, the bomb struck the water and exploded.
Water spurted like a geyser from the lake, spraying them. Burke picked up the knife, where it lay at his feet, and cut the rope that held her to the steering wheel. Eve fell forward into his arms.
He ran his hands over her, checking her for injury. “You’re okay. You’re safe.” He said the words as much to assure himself as to assure her.
She was trembling, crying. Her teeth were chattering. But she was unhurt. Alive. He pressed Eve against him and wrapped his arms around her. She clutched his neck in a choke-hold.
“I thought I was going to watch you die,” Burke said, his tone fierce.
“I thought you were going to die because of me. Why didn’t you get off the boat? Why didn’t you leave?”
He drew back. Tears streamed down her face. “Not without you.” His grip on her tightened. “Never without you.”
She held his gaze, her eyes swimming in tears. Her lips quivered. “Never without you,” she repeated.
He lowered his mouth to hers and kissed her. Eve clung to him and kissed him back.
Chapter Fifteen
In Eve’s lab in Los Angeles. Mozart played softly on a CD set on a table while beside the CD player a white light winked on and off in a plastic jack-o-lantern.
One month had passed since the day Lanski had strapped a bomb to her, put her in a boat and motored off to meet Burke. She’d thought she was going to die. But she hadn’t. Burke hadn’t let her die. He’d saved her life, risking his own in the process. A shiver coursed through her at the thought of how close they’d both come to losing their lives that day.
After, she’d accompanied two CIA officials to headquarters in Langley, Virginia to give her accounting of events. All charges against her were dropped and she was free to go. She’d left Langley without seeing Burke. She’d asked about him and was told that he was in debriefing.
In the last weeks she’d done a great deal of thinking. No doubt a near death experience would do that to a person and she’d come to some decisions about her life.
Eve took an empty box from the floor and as she set it down, knocked a beaker off the counter. The glass struck the floor and shattered.
Damn.
The lab door opened. That would be her assistant. The boy was a College student majoring in chemistry. He’d proven to have a good nose for blending scents. He was currently working on a blend of jasmine and hyacinth that had him very exited about the outcome. Eve wondered if he were coming to tell her he’d made the fragrance work.
She bent to attend to the mess she’d made with the beaker. Over her shoulder she called out, “Tam, would you mind grabbing the broom on your way in?”
She heard the closet door slide open. Then a man stood over her holding the broom.
Not Tam. It was Burke.
“There were three of them in the closet.” He lifted the broom. “I took a chance.”
Eve’s heart picked up its pace. She stared up at him, not blinking, taking him in after the month-long separation.
He reached down to her, offering his hand. She placed her hand in his and rose slowly to her feet.
Her heart was pounding and emotion clogged her throat. It took a moment for her to be confident that her voice would work. She smiled. “That one will do.” She took the broom from him and set it against the counter.
The instant she had, he drew her into his arms and kissed her as if he’d never let her go. She held on to him, kissing him back with equal urgency.
He drew back slightly. He looked leaner than when she’d last seen him. A little tired. Her heart stirred in sympathy.
She brushed her fingertips across his cheek. “How are you?”
“Missing you.”
He kissed her again.
He stepped back, but not far, keeping his arms around her. “I thought you’d like to know that the plot has been stopped. Lanski, looking to save himself, revealed the name of the buyer for the formula. The buyer is in custody, as are the members of the terrorist cell he was affiliated with.
Eve closed her eyes briefly in relief. “That is the best news.”
Burke nodded in obvious satisfaction. His cell phone rang and he snatched it out of his pocket quickly. Eve figured he was expecting the call, but when he glanced at the screen, he let the phone continue to ring.
“Dammit, Mallory, where are you?” he said softly.
Mallory. Eve recalled Burke telling her about his sister. She stroked his arm. His muscles were tensed. “John?”
“I’ve left a few messages for Mallory in the last week, but she hasn’t called back. The last time we spoke, she told me she was going undercover. That she was working on something big.” His gaze lowered to the phone he was still holding and held there, then, slowly, he returned the phone to his pocket. He pointed to the two open boxes that were side-by-side on the floor. “What’s all this?”
“I’ve made a decision.” She pushed a strand of hair behind her ear. “I’m selling the business.”
“Oh?”
Eve nodded. “I want to do something more with my life.” She swallowed, nervous now. “I’m hoping you’ll support the direction I want to take.”
He pressed her palm to his lips and kissed it. “I love you. Whatever you decide, I’m behind you.”
“I want to join your team.”
Burke went still then said, “My team?”
“Yes.”
“If you want to get back into law enforcement--”
“No.” Eve shook her head. “I want to do what I can - all I can - to stop chemical weapons from getting into the hands of terrorists.”
“Eve,” Burke tightened his grip on her hand. “Baby, what happened with Richard wasn’t your fault. I didn’t see Lanski for what he was.”
“I know I’m not to blame for what Richard did. This isn’t about that. Well,” she shook her head, “not entirely. I can’t say I would have come to this realization if not for Richard’s involvement in this plot. But it’s what I want, John. It feels right.”
She held Burke’s gaze for a long moment, then he nodded.
* * *
The next morning Eve followed Burke into a conference room used by the Shadow Agency, the covert team of operatives specializing in chemical weapons terrorism led by Burke. The Shadow Agency headquarters was in a secure location known to only the handful of people now assembled in this room.
The other men and women glanced up and fell silent as she took a place at the front of the room beside Burke.
“I’d like to introduce Dr. Eve Collins,” Burke said. “Eve has joined our team. Eve, meet Agents Lisa Portland, Dylan Armstrong, and Luke Falco.”
Eve nodded to each agent in turn then took a seat in the remaining unoccupied chair.
Burke reached up and lowered a white board from the ceiling. “Team,” he said. “We have another
assignment.”
SCROLL DOWN TO READ CHAPTER ONE FROM
SNOWBOUND
BOOK TWO IN THE PROTECTORS SERIES
COMING JULY 2011
Chapter One
“So, how does it feel knowing you’re taking your last ride?”
Mallory Burke didn’t respond to the latest comment made by Hugo from behind the wheel of the sedan, refusing to let him bait her. He’d been doing his best to get a reaction out of her since they’d embarked on this journey into the mountains of West Virginia a few hours ago when Hugo had discovered that Mallory wasn’t just the bartender his boss Billy Wilder had hired for his strip club, but an undercover federal agent.
Hugo had called Wilder with that newsflash and Billy had ordered that Mallory be brought to his mountain cabin - pronto.
Though Mallory wasn’t responding to Hugo’s running commentary, she was reacting all right. The gravity of her situation had her heart pounding so hard she wondered if Hugo and his companion, Miles Pratt, the other man in the car, could hear it.
Pratt, seated beside her in the back seat, turned to her and smirked. His unibrow looked like a caterpillar crawling across his forehead. His large bulk took up more than his share of the leather bench seat, wedging Mallory in tight between him and the rear passenger door. The door was locked, though with her hands tied behind her back she wouldn’t be able to open it in any case. She was currently working on loosening the knot, but Hugo tied a knot with the skill of a sailor. Lucky for her, she was good at untying knots. This one was just about undone.
The knot wasn’t going to be her biggest obstacle to getting away from these bozos. Problem was, when she did get away, she was going to have to escape into the snow storm raging outside her window. As she thought that, the big sedan skidded and the rear fishtailed.
“Fuckin’ snow,” Hugo muttered.
On this, Mallory agreed with him.
Snow or not, there was no way she was going to the cabin. She’d overheard Hugo and Miles say with no small measure of respect - and fear - that the boss himself would be there. Though she wanted to encounter their boss - Paul Considine - with a fierceness that had her pulse pounding, she wanted it to be on her terms. Not like this. Not at Considine’s mercy.
Mallory swallowed hard. Hugo and Miles had been taunting her with all of the things they would do to her when they had her at the cabin. Despite her professional training and years of experience with the Bureau, she couldn’t hold back a shudder at the methods of torture they’d described that were specific to her gender. There was no way she could allow these two to touch her and, she had accomplished her assignment, found out what she’d gone undercover to learn and now needed to take that information back to the Bureau. The lives of twelve young women depended on her. Mallory closed her eyes briefly. She could not fail.
Wind rattled her window. Mallory jerked back, nudging Miles. For once, he didn’t comment. He removed his safety belt and leaned forward in his seat. Eyes narrowed, he studied the near white-out conditions. The wipers swished across the windshield at full speed, clearing snow for an instant before the glass was pelted again and covered.
“Slow down, man,” Miles said.
“No way.” Hugo swiped a hand across his mouth. “It’ll be my head if we don’t get her up there fast.”
Fast seemed optimistic and foolhardy. They hadn’t come across another car since Hugo had turned down this road. Apparently, others had the good sense to stay away today. Trees that lined this stretch of road swayed, buffeted by the force of the wind. Hugo’s hands, inside brown leather gloves, were clamped around the steering wheel. He was trying to keep the car steady, keep it on the road, Mallory thought as the wind struck the sedan and the car veered off to the right. Just where the road was at this point was a guess. The thick snow clinging to the ground obliterated the road and it was only the line of trees that provided orientation. With the road conditions as treacherous as they were, Mallory might not have to worry about what awaited her at the cabin. She had a more immediate worry that she might not make it out of the sedan alive.
“We need to turn back,” Mallory said. “We can’t go on in this.”
“Hear that, Miles? Little Miss Fed’s got somethin’ to say.” Hugo met her gaze in the rearview mirror and bared his yellow teeth in a smile that made the fine hairs on the back of Mallory’s neck rise. “Save your breath, sweetheart, for when we get to the cabin. You’re gonna need it when you start screaming.”
Mallory wanted to come back with a smart retort, but Hugo’s words struck home and her mouth went dry. Work the knot. Work the knot. She increased the pace on the ropes to a frenzy, twisting and pulling. Perspiration trickled down her brow while she shivered with cold. Panic was setting in and she was losing it. Losing it was the surest way to get herself killed.
Mallory forced herself to stop jerking frantically on the rope. Forced herself to fight back the panic clawing at her. Directing her focus to the task at hand, she went back to working the knot.
Miles had disarmed her, but she could see her gun tucked into the waistband of his black pants. Once she freed her hands . . . done!
She was panting like a racehorse. Adrenaline pumped through her. She would have one chance to grab her gun. One chance. She blocked out the thought of what these two would do to her if she failed.
She glanced at Miles. His attention was all on the road. His shoulders hunched as he leaned forward so he was now perched on the end of the seat, clasping the head rest of the unoccupied front passenger seat.
“Slow down, will ya! I can’t see nothin’ but snow!” Miles’s shout was barely audible above the wind.
Mallory reached out to grab her gun. The sedan went into a spin. The world swirled crazily as the car whirled like a top. Her screams echoed with those of Miles and Hugo.
The sedan struck something - hard. Mallory was flung forward. The seat belt cut across her chest, cutting off her breath but holding her in place. In a blur of movement, Miles was thrown to the front of the car and through the windshield.
Windows shattered, peppering Mallory with slivers of glass. She screamed. She was dressed in jeans and a parka which protected her body but her head and face were bare. She swung her arms up and hunched her shoulders in an attempt to protect herself from the spray of glass.
The sedan crumpled. The crunch of metal blended with Hugo’s pain-filled shrieks and then there was silence.
She’d been holding her breath. She released it in a rush, the sudden surge pounding in her ears. She was alive. She repeated that thought and took another breath. Pain radiated from her right arm, leg and side. Her head hurt. When she lifted it from the seat back, her head swam and her vision grayed. Wind and snow blew in through the shattered windows. The cold air and wet flakes that struck her face revived her. She blinked quickly and fought back the blackness.
She wanted to get out of the car but was pinned by the front seat. The sedan had struck an outcropping of rock and the front of the car had been pushed back on impact. Miles’s body was crushed. There was no doubt that he was dead. Given what she’d learned of his involvement with the twelve women, she would not regret his passing.
Mallory shifted position carefully, testing how deeply she was wedged in. Not as tightly as she feared. Keeping her movements slow, but steady, she raised her arm. She gasped at the pain that shot through her, but took heart in the fact that she was able to move her arm at all.
Gritting her teeth, she levered up on her uninjured arm to free her lower body. Her breath shallowed and perspiration broke out on her forehead as she continued the slow, arduous process of extricating herself.
She was almost completely free when her ankle caught. Again, she cried out when she forced movement, but made another attempt, then another until her foot was clear.
That slight exertion had left her panting. She bolstered her flagging energy. Her cell phone had been confiscated by Hugo before he’d tied her. There was no way to get to the phone the way he wa
s positioned. But Miles also had a phone.
She grunted and pushed the crumpled passenger door but it would not open. Averting her face, Mallory reared back as far as she could in the cramped space and with her uninjured foot, kicked out the few shards of glass that still clung to the rear windshield then climbed out of the car. Outside, the blowing wind was deafening. Miles and Hugo had nabbed her as she’d been leaving the club that morning at the end of her shift. She’d already changed out of the mini skirt and halter top that were part of her outfit while she tended bar and had put on her parka. She was thankful for that now as the bitter cold stole her breath and burned the raw scrapes and cuts on her exposed skin.
