Holding Out For A Hero: SEALs, Soldiers, Spies, Cops, FBI Agents and Rangers

by Piñeiro, Caridad

  “Yes.”

  “The rapid acting insulin is only for your daytime use. It appears that you administered the rapid-acting insulin a short while ago, rather than the regular insulin. Doing so will lower blood glucose considerably and is likely to trigger the kind of episode you just experienced. This is not a mistake to be made lightly. Severe hypoglycaemia as you experienced can cause cardiac arrhythmia. Frankly, you are most fortunate that this mistake has not cost you your life.”

  “I did not take the wrong insulin, Doctor. I know the risks and I’m very careful about my medication.”

  “That is not what your blood has told us Ms. Collins. When we examined your insulin medication, we learned that the insulin bottles in the injectors did not match their prescription labels. It appears that when you replenished your insulin, you placed the rapid acting insulin in the injector labeled with the prescription for the regular insulin and vice versa. We have corrected the error. You are very fortunate, indeed, that all has turned out well.”

  Eve frowned. “That’s impossible. I’ve been using those injectors for a while. I have not changed the bottles recently.”

  Malhi gave her a look that spoke plainly of his doubt. “I would like you to remain with us this night. If you are feeling well in the morning, you will be free to go home with your husband.”

  Malhi glanced at Burke who nodded. Eve supposed there was no point in clearing up Malhi’s mistake. It hardly seemed preferable to inform the doctor that she was Burke’s charge, soon to be his prisoner.

  She’d collapsed from an injection of rapid-acting insulin, Malhi said. Her insulin pen injectors were clearly labeled so she knew which was her night time insulin. When she replaced an empty bottle, she always checked the labels on the new bottle and on the injector to be sure they matched. Always. She would not make a mistake like that.

  After Malhi left, Eve turned to Burke. “My collapse was not due to negligence. I don’t take risks when it comes to my disease.”

  “You’ve been under a lot of stress lately. Do you not think it could be possible that you picked up the wrong injector tonight?”

  No she did not think that was possible, but what other explanation was there?

  * * *

  The next morning, when she awoke, Burke was seated at her bedside. He was awake, watching her. If he’d feared her skipping out on him, he’d spent a night in that chair for nothing. There had been no chance of that happening. Last night, she’d felt too weak to sit up, let alone make a run for it.

  Burke leaned toward her. “How do you feel?” His tone was gentle.

  “Better.”

  A nurse entered the room. She eased around Burke, and applied a blood pressure cuff to Eve’s arm.

  “Doctor will be in to examine you shortly,” the nurse said.

  “I’ll be outside,” Burke said. He rubbed his hands down his face then got to his feet and started for the door.

  Eve hadn’t removed her suitcase from the trunk of Richard’s car yet and she needed to change out of the hospital gown. “I could use my suitcase,” Eve said to Burke. “It’s in the trunk of the car. Would you?”

  Burke nodded. “Be right back.”

  An hour later, Eve was discharged.

  “Do you need anything before we return to the cottage?” Burke asked as he drove away from the hospital. “Something for your condition?” He shrugged, a gesture of helplessness that she didn’t think he made often and one that he didn’t appear comfortable with.

  Eve appreciated the offer but shook her head. “I’m fine. Back to my usual self.”

  They drove the rest of the way back to the cottage in silence. Burke had the radio on low. A talk show host was bemoaning the state of the economy and an irate caller was blaming politicians for the problem. Eve tuned out the pair as they engaged in a lively debate over the issue and turned her attention out of the window. They were driving through a residential neighborhood. Lawns were neatly cut. Flowers were in full bloom. The air conditioning was on in the car, but Eve’s nostrils flared slightly as she imagined she could smell the honeysuckle on a bush as the car streaked by it. If she didn’t find out who Richard’s accomplice was, it would be a very long time before she smelled honeysuckle again. Her shoulders slumped slightly with the thought and she resolutely straightened her posture. She was innocent. And she would prove that.

  Burke parked in front of the cottage. They made their way to the front door. He inserted the key then pushed the door open. Eve waited, remaining in place so he could go inside first and conduct his usual check of the place. Burke gripped her elbow. There was a tension in him that hadn’t been present a moment ago. Eve didn’t know what had alerted or alarmed him, but there was no doubt that something had. She felt a rush of adrenaline. A fine sweat broke out on her body and the slight breeze that stirred the air as it blew across her arms, chilled her. When she glanced up at him, he shook his head, and removed his weapon from the shoulder holster he wore.

  He entered the cottage.

  She waited in a state of tension herself for a few moments that felt like hours when Burke appeared in the door way again.

  “All clear,” he said.

  Eve followed him into the livingroom. “What made you think it wasn’t going to be?”

  “When I turned the key in the lock, there was no resistance. The door wasn’t locked.”

  “Maybe you just forgot to lock it last night when you left here.” Eve tossed back at him that maybe he’d been careless and left the door unlocked, as he’d suggested to her last night about her insulin injection.

  Burke nodded. “Maybe.”

  His easy acceptance and capitulation rang false. What he was hiding? “You don’t believe that, why not?”

  Burke holstered his weapon, hesitated, then said, “Things have been moved. Examined.”

  “Like?”

  “Those books.”

  He indicated a short shelf built into the wall by a small fireplace. She didn’t notice anything off about them.

  “The pictures on the walls have been touched,” Burke went on quietly, his tone contemplative.

  The three photos. Sure. She’d noticed them upon their arrival at the cottage, on the wall behind a bamboo couch covered with bright floral cushions. The pictures were photographs of nature scenes hung in a row. All were perfectly aligned.

  Eve was about to question Burke about his belief that the photos had been touched but instead narrowed her eyes. One of the pictures—a photograph of a bird about to take flight—had been askew when they’d arrived here yesterday. It wasn’t now. There was no housekeeping service with the rental of the cottage, so no one had been in to clean and righted the picture.

  Burke took his cell phone from his pocket and pressed a button with his thumb. As he raised the phone to his ear, he left the cottage to stand outside. Whether he didn’t want her to overhear his conversation or was just seeking some fresh air, Eve didn’t know. Whatever, she would not be left out. She was in the unfortunate position of having her future tied with his and for the moment, she would allow him no secrets, if she could help it. She followed him outside.

  “. . . yeah, Lanski,” Burke said.

  He didn’t glance at her as she approached him, just went on speaking. Eve felt a little relief that he hadn’t been attempting to exclude her from this conversation.

  “She’s fine.”

  Burke’s gaze cut to her briefly and Eve figured he’d brought Lanski up to speed on her night at the hospital. He went on to inform Lanski about the search of the cottage.

  “Whoever it was had to be looking for the formula,” Burke said.

  Eve’s heart pounded. “Did he get it?”

  Burke’s gaze met hers. He shook his head.

  Eve closed her eyes briefly, relieved that the deadly weapon was not at large.

  “No,” Burke said. “I’m going to bring her in today as planned. See you in Washington.”

  Eve’s stomach fluttered. “That’s it? Even a
fter someone searched the cottage your part in finding the accomplice is over?”

  Burke closed the lid of the cell phone. “That’s it. The search yielded nothing since I have the formula and, as I already told you, we already have the accomplice.”

  “You’re wrong.”

  Burke said nothing to her denial. “Get ready to travel, Doctor. We have a plane to catch.”

  Eve left Burke outside and went to her room. Sunlight slanted across the unmade bed through a separation in the lavender curtains. Her purse and its contents, lipstick, compact, and wallet were strewn on the bunched bedspread. Her cell phone lay open on the thick area rug beside the bed. She picked up all of the items and replaced them in her purse.

  Dr. Malhi had returned the pen injectors from yesterday. She wasn’t due for another shot for a while and stuck both injectors in her purse.

  Before she left, she wanted a shower. She suspected that once she arrived in Washington, she’d be whisked away to answer questions and a shower for her wouldn’t be a priority for the government interrogators.

  There was no point bringing her suitcase in from the car. The tan slacks and cream silk blouse she now wore would do for the trip. She scooped her dryer from the top of the dresser where she’d left it after having used it yesterday and went into the bathroom.

  She undressed, placed the items on the solid gray counter, then reached into the shower stall and twisted the faucets. After a moment, she stepped beneath the hot spray.

  She scrubbed, more vigorously than was needed, her movements fueled by frustration and fear at the situation she found herself in.

  Finished with the shower, Eve gave the taps a sharp turn, shutting off the water, then emerged from the tub. She wrapped a towel around her hair, turban style, then another around her body, knotting it under her arm. She plugged in the hair dryer then sighed. She’d forgotten a comb.

  The towel covered her from underarms to mid thigh. She didn’t think Burke would go into shock if he glimpsed her in nothing more than the towel on the way to her bedroom. Besides, he might still be outside.

  She left the bathroom. She was in the hall when something in that room exploded.

  Eve screamed as the impact knocked her off her feet. Debris blew out of the room. She covered her head with her arms, but she was far enough that nothing struck her. She glanced back over her shoulder at the room she’d just vacated. Flames climbed the walls and spread along the bathroom vanity.

  Eve was shaking. She didn’t think her legs would support her were she to try to stand. Remaining on her hands and knees, she crawled across the floor.

  Black smoke billowed into the room making it impossible to see her path to the front door. Her shoulder struck something—the leg of an end table she realized. Ignoring the throbbing pain in her arm, she veered away from the table. She had to slow down—calm down or she wouldn’t make it out of there. When she would have scrambled forward, she forced herself to slow her pace, but her heart was pounding like a jackhammer.

  The air, thick with smoke, choked her and set off a fit of coughing. Eve lowered her head as close to the floor as she could where the air was fresher. It was only marginally fresher and the lack of oxygen was getting to her. She felt light headed and spots danced before her eyes. She shook her head in an attempt to clear it but the spots remained. Smoke burned her eyes and they ran with tears.

  She felt a blast of heat from behind her. She glanced over her shoulder. The fire had spread from the bathroom and flared on the walls in the room she was now in. A support post was now aflame and shrinking to kindling.

  Very soon now the cottage would be engulfed. Her throat closed and fear brought fresh tears to her eyes. She fought the urge to continue to watch the flames—to mark the progress as the fire gained on her—and returned her attention to getting out.

  The smoke thickened. Eve squinted, but she’d lost her bearings and didn’t know just where she was in the cottage. Cold sweat drenched her. She was no longer sure if she was heading for the door—or to one of the walls. She would end up trapped if she went the wrong way . . . Eve shuddered.

  The front door was flung open. Sunlight flooded the room, illuminating Burke as he ran toward her.

  “Eve!”

  Her throat had closed and she couldn’t answer him.

  Burke dropped to his knees beside her. “Are you hurt?”

  His gaze and his hands traveled up and down her body, concern and fear in his eyes as he checked her for injury. She was unhurt and as he realized that for himself, he wrapped his arm around her waist and hauled her to her feet. Her legs wobbled and he swung her up into his arms. Eve wrapped her arms around his neck and holding her tight against his chest, Burke carried her out of the cottage. He lowered her onto the lawn, then ran back inside.

  The fire had not yet spread to the front of the small accommodation, still, it was dangerous to go back inside. What was the man thinking?

  “Burke,” Eve tried to call out to him, but his name came out as a croak.

  He was back quickly. Her purse was gripped in his fist. He’d gone back inside for her purse? Eve shook her head, unable to discern his logic.

  His arm went around her again, and again he brought her to her feet. She thought he was looking to put additional distance between them and the cottage. Instead, he began to rub her arms gently.

  “You’re shivering.” He removed his suit jacket. “We need to get you warm.”

  Her arms didn’t seem to want to cooperate with her. He lifted them himself and slid them through the sleeves. He buttoned the jacket for her. He was a tall man. The sleeves covered her finger tips and the hem fell almost to her knees.

  Eve cleared her throat. “Burke, we need to call 911. The fire will spread—”

  Her teeth chattered which got her another worried look from Burke. He steered her to the car, opened the passenger side door and eased her down onto the seat. He swung her legs in himself and slammed the door.

  “What are you doing?” Eve asked then repeated when he slid behind the steering wheel.

  “Getting you out of here.”

  “Can’t Washington wait until we’ve called for help?”

  He didn’t respond to her question and asked instead. “Do you need an insulin injection?”

  “What?”

  “Insulin. Do you need a shot now?”

  She shook her head. He tossed her purse onto the console and she realized why he’d gone back into the cottage to retrieve it.

  “Thank you,” she said quietly.

  He gave her a long look then nodded. He started the car. The engine roared to life. He switched from air conditioning to heat and aimed the vents at her. Eve huddled in his jacket and moved as close to the vents as the seat belt allowed.

  Smoke rose from the cottage. Flames licked the roof. The fire was spreading fast.

  “Burke, make the call. Alert Emergency Services of a gas leak.”

  “That explosion wasn’t caused by a gas leak.”

  “What then?”

  “A bomb.”

  “A bomb? What?”

  “I found this in the hall.” Burke took out a square of black plastic from his pocket and held it for her to see.

  “It looks like it came from my hair dryer. What’s that attached to it?”

  “Part of a bomb casing. Someone wants you dead, Doctor.”

  Imposter: Chapter Seven

  Burke sped away from the cottage. He glanced at Eve, seated next to him. Her face was pale, her eyes huge with disbelief and fear. Her hands, tightly clasped together trembled. If he looked at his own hands, he’d likely find them in the same condition. When the bomb went off with her inside, he ran into the cottage like a mad man. He’d been crazed to get to her, fearing he’d find her dead. A tremor went through him at the memory. When he’d finally reached her, and had her in his arms, he’d wanted to hold her there where he knew she’d be safe.

  What the hell was wrong with him? His grip on the steering wheel tight
ened in self-directed anger. Despite her claims of innocence, everything he knew about her told him she was a traitor to her country. Richard Patterson had named her in the terrorist plot. She was a woman who would murder innocents for her own gain without a qualm.

  She was everything Burke loathed and risked his life to take down. She wasn’t deserving of any tender feelings. If given the chance, he had no doubt she would take him out. There was the plain truth. He wouldn’t lose sight of it again.

  * * *

  “My cell phone is in the inside pocket in my jacket. Hand it to me, would you?” Burke said.

  They’d been quiet for a few moments, each lost in their own thoughts as Richard’s car took them to Burke’s destination and his voice startled her.

  “What?”

  “My phone. Inside pocket of my jacket.”

  Eve retrieved the phone and held it out. While he called emergency services about the fire, Eve took in what had just happened. Her hair dryer had been rigged with a bomb.

  Burke completed the call, then made another. “I need a car.” He leaned across Eve and withdrew a map from the glove box. “I’ll be on Quarry Edge Road in fifteen minutes.” He ended the call then set the phone on the console where he’d tossed her purse.

  “Someone just tried to kill me,” Eve said in a whisper.

  A muscle in Burke’s jaw pulsed.

  The heat blasting from the vents had warmed her, but Eve shivered at the notion that someone wanted her dead.

  Burke turned off Main Street onto an unpaved road. They were the only travelers on this road at the moment. He drove a short distance then came to a stop beside another vehicle, a white sedan that looked to be several years old.

  Eve turned off the heat. “Why did you stop here?”

  “Our new wheels, Doctor.”

  Burke left the vehicle, went around to the trunk of the Porsche and retrieved their luggage. Another man, lanky, and balding, exited the sedan. He and Burke exchanged a few words then the man who’d delivered the sedan, popped the trunk and removed a bicycle. As Eve got out of the Porsche, the man hopped on and rode away.