“Okay, what are we looking for?”
Tears blurred her vision. Had they finally come to the end of this crazy, world-shattering journey?
“I think the microchip is up there.” She pointed to the portrait. “Can you help me get it off the wall?”
“Sure.” Without question or hesitation, he took his shoes off and stood on the bed to gently remove the painting. “It’s heavy.”
“Yeah, Mina would have only used the best for her Patrice.”
With a grunt, he turned from the wall and bent to let it slide to the floor, letting it lean against the edge of the bed. Then he hopped down, slid back into his shoes and said, “All right, you’re up.”
“Do you have a pocketknife?”
He slanted her an amused glance and pulled out his Swiss Army knife. “What size blade do you need?”
“The smallest one.”
He obliged and handed it over.
“Thanks.” With focused concentration, she leaned over the painting and took a deep breath. The small razor-sharp blade hovered over the girl’s throat, and with a gentle yet firm movement, Gina inserted the blade just under the locket.
TWENTY
Ian held his hand under the small flap that Gina loosened with the knife, and a tiny object tumbled into his palm. Elation flooded him and he looked up at Gina. “You’re amazing. You did it.”
She flushed and looked flustered, then shrugged. “Well, if you hadn’t kept me alive, I wouldn’t have gotten past the beach house.” She gave him an intense look, one that burned to the very depths of his heart.
He leaned over and kissed her, gently, a quick touch to her lips that promised so much more. “We’ve got a lot to talk about later, okay?”
Eyes wide, she nodded. Then he became all business again. “All right, let’s get this back in there.”
“What?” Confusion wiped the dazed look from her face.
“I still don’t know who the good guys are, so we’re not taking any chances. I wish I had time to see what’s on it, but know we don’t. And if the bad guys show up before the good guys, I want to make sure that thing is protected. Can you get it back in there without ruining the picture?”
“Maybe. Mario did a good job gluing the flap back to the painting. I had to get very close to notice it had been disturbed. There’s some glue down in the kitchen. I’ll just run down there and get some.”
He handed her the chip. “I’ll do it. Which drawer?”
She told him and he left to get the glue. He also wanted to make a couple of calls. Dialing the first number, he got Joseph. “Did you find them?”
“Negative on that. Catelyn’s working with the reinforcements you called in to keep up the search. I’m making sure they’ve got all the information they need. Then I’ll be on my way out to the farm in case you need backup. Did you find what you were looking for?”
“Sure did and I’m making phone calls to make sure I’ve got all my bases covered.”
“Great. Be there shortly.”
Ian hung up and made the next call. Mac answered on the first ring. “Did you find it?”
“Yes, sir. I can’t tell you how much I appreciate you taking it off our hands like this.”
“Have you looked at it? Do you know what it was that made these guys willing to kill for it?”
“No, sir. I haven’t had a chance to look at it.”
“Might be best if you don’t.”
“That’s kind of how I feel about it. But Mario did leave a DVD behind. He confirmed that Bandit’s the one who set him up.”
“Bandit? Are you sure? He’s been undercover a long time.”
Mac sighed heavily. “I hate to hear that.”
“Be careful if you run into him. He’s here in town somewhere.”
“All right, it’ll take me a while to get there, but I’m on my way.”
“See you soon, sir. I’ll be waiting.”
Ian hung up the phone with a feeling of satisfaction. Hopefully, this was all about to come to an end and he and Gina would be safe.
Gina watched Ian hang the picture back on the wall. “What do you think is on the chip?” she asked.
Tilting the picture a little more to the left to make it level, he finally turned and shrugged. “I don’t know. Some kind of incriminating evidence against someone, I’m sure.”
“Someone from the unit?”
“No doubt.”
“Can you tell where the chip is?”
Ian studied the painting, then shook his head. “Not really. If I didn’t know it was in there, I wouldn’t notice it.”
“Good.”
Ian shoved his gun into the back of his jeans and turned to make his way down the stairs. Gina followed, stepping lightly behind him.
They made their way back into the den, with Ian checking the windows and looking at the clock. “All right, here’s the plan,” he said.
“Yeah, Ian, tell us the plan.”
Gina whirled, gasping as she took in the man who stepped out from behind the door to the den, his gun leveled at the two of them.
Ian pulled Gina behind him and managed to grip the butt of his gun before the weapon in the stranger’s hand cracked. Gina screamed as Ian fell back against her, knocking her sideways.
“Ian!” She threw herself down beside him, keeping one eye on the advancing menace in front of her. Ian lay still, eyes closed. The wound in his shoulder bled only a small amount.
Had the bullet passed through?
Was he dead?
Running her hand down his back, she felt for the gun. “What are you doing?” she yelled at the man.
“Reclaiming what’s mine.” He pointed the gun at her head. “Now where is it?”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
Annoyance flashed across his uneven features. The tattoo on his hand caught her eye; then his words chilled her soul. “Lady, if you don’t tell me where it is, the next bullet goes in his head.” He moved the gun from her head to Ian’s.
And she knew she’d have to tell.
“It’s…”
Ian struck, flinging a leg around his opponent’s and pulling him to the floor with a crash. The man’s gun skittered across the floor and Gina lunged for it.
“Gina, get out!” Ian hollered at her as he took a punch to the gut. Doubled over, he propelled his body forward to head-butt the man on the chin.
Gina hesitated, her fingers wrapped around the unfamiliar weapon. Her hands shook too hard to shoot straight.
But she had to try.
An elbow to Ian’s cheek split it and the blood flowed. Handicapped by his wounded shoulder, he appeared to be weakening.
Sucking in a deep breath, she held the gun in front of her just like Joseph had taught her.
And froze when she felt something touch the back of her neck. “Put the gun down, Gina.”
Swallowing hard, defiance flowing, she held the gun steady. The pressure on her neck increased as Ian delivered a final punch to an exposed chin. His opponent went down and stayed there, eyes closed. Ian sagged against the fireplace, grasping the mantel to keep himself upright. He turned to find Gina held hostage, a gun to the back of her head.
Gasping, he winced at the damage his body had sustained. Gina trembled, desperate to run to him and make sure he would be all right.
But first they had to deal with the man standing behind her. The voice sounded familiar, but she couldn’t place it. Ian kept his eyes steady as they focused on the newcomer.
“Hello, Mac.”
TWENTY-ONE
Mac gave Gina a small shove, forcing her farther into the room. “Tell your girlfriend to put down the gun.”
Ian eyed Gina, spying the stubborn determination glinting through her terror.
“Gina…”
“No,” she blurted, “he’s just going to kill us anyway.”
“Not if we give him what he wants,” Ian lied.
“That’s not true and you know it.”
> She was way too smart for her own good.
“I promised I’d get you out of this. Now listen to me and put the gun down. Trust me.”
She trembled, looked deep into eyes that he struggled to keep steady but knew were hazed with pain. Doing his best to ignore it and the weakness surging through him, he stood straight, trying to give the appearance of strength. He needed her to trust him. Desperately.
“Drop it, Gina,” Mac ordered from behind her.
The man was losing patience. He could shoot her and still have Ian, who had the information he needed. Of course Ian would be a tougher nut to crack than Gina. In spite of the pain, Ian’s mind ticked along, coming up with one scenario, discarding it and forming another. All in the space of seconds.
Mac would use them against each other.
And Ian knew that if Mac threatened Ian, Gina would tell him exactly where the chip was. Truth be told, he didn’t know that he wouldn’t do the same if Mac continued to threaten Gina. Either way, the man couldn’t leave them alive.
Gina lowered the gun gently to the floor. Mac stepped around her and, placing his foot on the weapon, dragged it to him. He left it on the floor, never taking his eyes from Ian or the gun from the back of Gina’s head.
“What’s on the chip, Mac? What is it you and Bandit—” he gestured to the unconscious man on the floor “—are so desperate to keep hidden?”
“It doesn’t matter now. Where is it?”
“Surely you know me better than that.”
The man kept the gun steady on the back of Gina’s neck. His lips parted in a mockery of a smile. “I know that you don’t want to watch this woman die, do you?”
Gina flinched and bit her lip. Ian took a deep breath, shot her what he hoped was a reassuring look, then said in a conversational tone, “You got here faster than I thought you would.”
“I was closer than I let on.”
Ian had figured that but hadn’t counted on the man getting here quite this quick. Glancing at the clock on the wall, he grasped for more time, just a little more time. Sweat wanted to break out across his forehead, but he wouldn’t allow himself to show that kind of weakness. “What made you do it, Mac? Money?”
“Yes. Money. Lots and lots of money. I gave my life to this country and for what? A measly little pension when I can’t do their dirty work anymore? No, thanks. I’ve got Jimmy to take care of, and providing him the kind of care he deserves is expensive.”
“What happened to honor and integrity? Values that you preached to us?”
Remorse flickered briefly, then hardened into resolution. “Yeah, I used to feel that way. Then one by one my family left me until I had no one left but the unit. Then you left and the unit didn’t fall apart, but it was never the same. The guys just…” He shrugged. “But all that doesn’t matter anymore. What matters is that chip. Now hand it over.”
“I don’t have it.”
“But you know where it is.”
Ian felt himself growing weaker. Time clicked slowly. Just a few more minutes. He had to stay strong, lucid. Fingers gripped the mantel, and he glared at his former supervisor. One hand tangled in Gina’s curls at the base of her neck; the other hand gripped the butt of the gun.
Which he now shifted to aim at Ian’s heart. Without looking at Gina, he said, “It’s up to you, girl. Does he live or die?”
From the corner of her eye, Gina watched Mac’s finger tighten around the trigger, and nausea churned in her stomach. Ian kept his gaze steady on her, silently telling her not to say a word.
But she couldn’t let Ian be shot again. He wouldn’t survive it. And even though he held himself steady, he looked pasty-white.
“It’s…”
“Gina, no.”
Mac’s fingers tightened in the handful of hair and she blinked at the blinding pain—but refused to cry out. He yanked her with him as he strode closer to Ian. Tears flowed down her cheeks, and she had to bite her lip against the scream curling in her throat. Against her ear, he growled, “One more chance—then the bullet goes in his head. Tell me.”
“It’s in Patrice’s room!”
Ian closed his eyes. “Don’t do it, Gina. Don’t let Mario’s death be for nothing.”
“Show me.” Hand still snarled by her hair, Mac dragged her toward the steps, then looked back at Ian. “I suppose you’re ready to fall over, but knowing you, you’d cause me trouble if I just left you here.”
He raised the gun toward Ian and Gina gasped, “No, don’t shoot him. Let me go get it. Stay here and watch him and let me go get it. I’ll come back, I promise.”
Mac paused and Bandit stirred. Lightning fast, Ian’s foot shot out and clipped the man in the head, sending him back into the darkness from which he’d just tried to awaken.
Growling again, Mac pulled the trigger.
And missed, as Ian hit the floor next to Bandit, then rolled. Mac aimed again and, ignoring the scorching pain coming from her scalp, Gina screamed, “Stop it! Stop it! I’ll get it!”
Mac stopped and focused his attention back on her, eyes narrowed in anger, cold chips from the depths of the Arctic. “Do it.” He gave her a shove toward the stairs, and Gina stumbled to keep her balance.
Ian locked his gaze on hers. Run, he was silently shouting—get out as soon as you can.
As if.
But she would try to get some help. Somewhere, somehow. She whirled up the stairs, desperately seeking a way out. A weapon, a phone to call for help.
No doubt Mac had cut the nonworking phone line as a precaution, but that wouldn’t have helped her anyway. She made it to the top of the stairs and turned left, making her way down the hallway and stopping in front of Patrice’s room.
“I’m waiting!” Mac called from below.
“I’m coming! It’s hidden really well.” Under her breath, she muttered, “Joseph, Joseph, where are you?”
She raced to the window in Patrice’s room and looked down at the drive.
Empty.
The sound of a helicopter reached her but she ignored it, going straight to the painting on the wall. Sliding a fingernail under the edge she’d just recently glued back into place, she lifted it and the chip fell into her outstretched palm. Shaking, she tucked the reason for all her problems into the front pocket of her jeans.
Her eyes fell on the pack Ian had brought into the room with him earlier. She fell to her knees and grabbed it. It took her trembling fingers three tries, but she finally got it unzipped. She pulled the laptop out and put it aside. Then she dumped the thing upside down. All kinds of interesting gadgets poured out, but the one thing she was most interested in tumbled to the floor with a thump.
A camera.
They should be here by now. Nausea clawed at his throat. Pain from his wound radiated and his knees felt like rubber. The clock ticked, the second hand creeping its way around the numbers. Where were they?
The man in front of him looked calm, unruffled, as though he did this on a daily basis—held people at gunpoint and planned to kill them as soon as he got what he wanted.
And maybe he did.
Ian certainly didn’t know who Mac was anymore.
“Who else is in on your little game?”
“Game?” The gun shook and Mac’s nostrils flared. “Oh, this is no game, Ian. No game.”
“Right. So who else is involved? Jase?”
A snort escaped the man. “Not likely. He’s like you. Thinks everything is black and white, right or wrong. He can’t see the shades of gray.”
Relief chugged through Ian. His instincts had been right after all. “Good, I’m glad to hear it.”
“Unfortunately, Jase will have to suffer a similar fate to Mario. He knows too much, is asking too many questions—thanks to you and Gina.”
One more reason he needed to fight off the weakness that was almost overwhelming. He knew if he looked at his knuckles, they’d be bleached white with the effort it took to keep his grip on the mantel.
“Let me call
him. I’ll tell him to back off, that everything’s fine. There’s no need to kill him, too.”
“I don’t think so.” His eyes flicked to the steps. “Now, where’s Gina? You don’t suppose she’s run off, do you?”
Ian could only hope. Unfortunately, he didn’t think so. What was taking her so long?
The helicopter thumping in the distance shot adrenaline through him, sharpening his senses, sending a surge of strength he desperately needed. Straightening his spine, he hissed at the bolt of pain that lanced him. Managing to ignore it, he glanced at Bandit, still out cold on the floor.
“Wake him up,” Mac ordered.
“What?”
“Wake him up!” He looked back at the stairs. “Gina! You better be down here in thirty seconds with that chip!”
The thumping of the helicopter sounded closer. This time Mac noticed it. Eyes narrowed in fury, he shouted, “Who is it?”
“The good guys, I’m hoping.” Satisfaction warred with worry. The cavalry might be on the way, but Mac still had time to kill them, a fact that Mac wasn’t unaware of.
He lifted the gun.
“Here!” Gina’s breathless voice sounded from the bottom of the steps. She held out the chip. “Just take it and go. Please! I don’t care what’s on there. I don’t care what you’re involved in. Just go!”
Mac snatched the item from her outstretched fingers and slid it into his pocket even as he backed toward the door. “You knew, didn’t you? That phone call you made, asking me to help gain you more time. You knew I’d hold off on coming out here until you called to tell me you’d found it.”
“Yeah. I was hoping I was wrong, but when Bandit didn’t show up as quick as I’d expected, I figured you’d told him to stand down to give us time to find it.”
And then Mac knew he was out of time. The gun lifted and Ian shouted, “Gina, trust me. Run!”
TWENTY-TWO
Without thought or hesitation, Gina pulled the camera from behind her back, lifted it and pressed the button. The flash sparked right in Mac’s eyes, blinding him for a brief moment.
Then she turned and bolted for cover.
Ian staggered from the mantel and lunged to clip Mac’s legs, but the man was too strong for Ian in his weakened state and easily pulled away. Mac aimed his weapon.
Silent Pursuit Page 15
