Dangerous Illusion

by Melissa James

  A dark sedan came down the runway, lights off and traveling with quiet speed. The car pulled up beside the seaplane, and Donna’s worried face appeared at the darkened window.

  “It’s all right, Donna. Thank you so much for your help.” With a tired sigh, Beth hitched the backpack on her shoulder, lifted the suitcase in her hand, and managed to get to the ground. She put them down carefully before climbing back in to grab Danny’s still sleeping puppy from his seat.

  “What’s happening, Beth?” Donna whispered, her frantic gaze taking in a barefoot, mussed McCall talking to the group of people in anonymous fatigues and hard boots.

  She shrugged. “I think I’m about to be arrested.”

  Donna gasped and laid a hand on her arm. “May I ask…?”

  Beth spoke loud enough for them all to hear. “My guess is for being an illegal immigrant—charges that they’ll offer to drop as soon as I give them what they want. That’s how people like this do business. No honesty or honor.” She leaned down to the shorter woman and kissed her. “You’ve been a good friend, Donna—the best. If I get through this—”

  “You will,” Donna all but growled, her soft blue eyes shooting fierce sparks in McCall’s direction, “or there will be hell to pay. Absolute and extreme public hell for all concerned.”

  Beth bit her lip. It had been so long since someone had cared with such utter unquestioning faith. “Thank you,” she whispered again. “Go, Donna. You know nothing about me from this moment—it’s safer.” She turned to the car to take a sleepy Danny out.

  McCall had beaten her to it, was lifting Danny up in those strong arms…and though she knew he was only helping, her fury, barely contained until now, boiled over. “Don’t touch my son.”

  The freezing scorn in her voice got to him. He wheeled around to face her, his eyes blistering, meeting her ice with the heat of disbelieving contempt. “Do you think I’d hurt him?”

  “When it comes to you, I don’t think. I don’t want to know.” She moved fast, and snatched Danny from his arms. “Don’t touch my things,” she added as he started slinging Danny’s backpack onto his shoulder. “I don’t need your help.”

  He froze in place, his face a mask of barely contained fury to match her own. “What the hell do you need, Beth?”

  She met his gaze, stinging from the contempt she knew she’d earned. Hating herself at this moment only marginally more than she hated him for forcing her to words and acts so far beneath her. “Nothing from you. I don’t need or want anything from you.”

  A tall, rugged blond man who looked to be in his early forties was waiting right outside, with four others standing like silent sentinels behind him—and one woman. A woman whose appearance had been subtly altered to look like hers. She was even wearing similar clothing, the unusual sweater bought from the same store. She wouldn’t pass for her close up, but she could lead anyone following them on a wild-goose chase.

  What did that mean—were they going to replace her for Falcone to follow…or was she going to conveniently disappear?

  The intensely handsome blond man spoke, in a slow, sexy Southern drawl that washed over her turbulent emotions like dark molasses. “Hello, Ms. Silver. My name is—”

  “It’s not your real name, so don’t bother.” She kept walking toward the plane she had ready. “You’re McCall’s boss. Excuse me, please, unless you have a warrant for my arrest.”

  The man produced a piece of paper without a word, holding it before her eyes, since her hands were full.

  She felt the blood drain from her face. “So I suffer arrest for being an illegal immigrant or go with you. And of course you put us in protective custody, separating us until I give you whatever it is you want.” And where Danny’s father will get at him with his crooked cops and his millions of dollars. “I have no choice, then—but don’t rejoice, because you won’t get a damn thing from me.” Shaking with terrified fury, she refused to look McCall’s way, but stared defiantly at his boss. “God help you if anything you do this night ends up hurting my boy.”

  “We’re here to help you.” McCall’s voice came from behind her, low and fierce. “You have to—”

  “I don’t have the least interest in anything you say.” She kept her gaze trained on the blond man. “I suppose there’s no use in saying this, but I don’t want McCall near my son. I’m sure you have a whatever-it-takes credo, but I have to pick up the pieces of my son’s broken heart after you all go—if we’re still alive. And my little boy’s started hoping that he could have a daddy.”

  Behind her, she felt McCall flinch at her words; but no satisfaction filled her, just an emptiness of heart. Maybe he’d had no choice but to tell his superiors, but he’d destroyed her one chance at anonymity. With this gun-toting circus of people around her, she had no chance of getting Danny out of New Zealand unnoticed. Somebody would see them—someone who needed money—and Danny’s father would know in which direction they’d gone before long. His kind of money precluded silence, or honor, or loyalty. Or trust.

  Maybe she was warped, no longer a normal woman, but at least she and Danny were alive.

  “Flipper, take the other plane—the one Ms. Silver has. Take Heidi and go to the South Island. From there, separate and find your ways to the arranged checkpoint by noon tomorrow.”

  Obviously the blond man’s word was law in this spy group. McCall and the slender woman made up to look like her moved without argument to the plane.

  “You’ll need these.” Beth held out a set of keys. “I’ll have to unlock the system for you before you can start the engine.”

  “Go ahead,” McCall said curtly without turning around. He leaned against the plane with a hand, his back turned to her, as stiff and cold as the morning slowly coming to life.

  The blond man took a still-sleeping Danny from her arms, and walked over to the DC-10 primed and ready behind him.

  She unlocked the system of her plane with a complicated setting of five keys—the right one in the right groove the first time, or the computerized system would fail. Then she turned away. “You can fly normally now. There’s no trick to taking off or landing, but there is a system to disable any unofficial tracking from the ground or the air. Just use the button beneath autopilot. If you fly at a high enough altitude you shouldn’t be seen at all. Please leave it safely in a hangar somewhere. And bring me back my keys. I hope your group can arrange to have it flown to wherever I’ll be living for the time being?”

  “Of course.” McCall turned to her then; his eyes burned into hers as he spoke. “I’d have died to save you, Beth, do you know that? Shows what a stupid jerk I am. I’d have done anything to keep you and Danny safe. But you’re running again—running from imaginary fears as much as the real thing. You’ll ruin your son’s life, cheat him of a real life so that you can stay a coward, safe inside those damn fears of yours, never trusting anyone.” He added, so low no one else could hear, “Are you willing to spend the rest of your life alone, refusing to really live just so you won’t have to reach out and accept that someone cares about you, or that you might care about them?”

  He had no idea of the chord he’d just struck in her inmost heart and soul. She wanted to cry out, I don’t want to live my life alone. I don’t want to fight Danny’s father on my own, but he’ll kill you if he had a clue of how much I love you… “Do you?” she said softly, hating that she had to push every button he had to stop him from staying so close. “Do you live, or hide behind your save-the-world philosophies? Do you rescue people because they need it, or because you need to justify your existence? To prove to Mommy that she was wrong to leave you all those years ago—that you’re something better than your father was?”

  He flinched as if she’d struck him, but didn’t answer her. He stood tense and silent watching her, arms folded, big and dark and hot, all man, stalking the cliffs inside her soul. She drew a small, ladylike breath. Control, control! “Goodbye, McCall. Danny and I will see you at this checkpoint tomorrow, I gather.�
�

  By what miracle had her voice come out sounding so unmoved?

  She walked back to the larger DC-10 waiting for her without looking back.

  Chapter 15

  S o she was back in Australia.

  Strong instinct told her Danny’s father knew nothing about their arrival here—a deep-seated sense of safety, a kernel of peace, settled inside her soul and wouldn’t be shaken by her old friends, fear and distrust. Whoever these people were, whatever they wanted from her, they were not in Falcone’s pay.

  Five years ago she hadn’t been outside Kingsford-Smith International Airport. She’d only seen parts of Sydney from the air. A change of clothes and hair, a wig for Danny and, using the fake passports ready for them, they’d flown straight to Wellington in New Zealand. Escape, completely according to plan.

  And she and Danny vanished from the world. Anonymity for five lovely years, with no sign of Falcone—until McCall found them.

  “Sandwich, Ms. Silver?”

  Beth started and turned to the blond American, who’d only introduced himself as Mike. Yeah, right, and his last name was Brady, too, he was so innocent and wholesome.

  And Beth’s your real name? an inner voice jeered.

  It is now. She refused to identify with McCall’s people. Arguing over ethics was a waste of time, sitting with a bunch of flak-jacketed, heavily armed people after evidence.

  She shuddered. They’d changed tactics, that was all. They hadn’t found what they were after by intimidating and arresting her, so they were trying some overdue kindness. The protective stance that had gotten McCall almost everywhere with her…

  Not again. Control!

  “Thank you.” She took two plain meat sandwiches, unwrapped one and gave it to Danny, then ate hers in silence, looking out over the fading horizon of the sunset.

  “Where are we, Mummy?” Danny mumbled, half-asleep still.

  She patted her son’s tousled dark mop of hair. “Don’t talk with your mouth full, sweetie. We’re in Australia. You’ll have to ask that man there if you want to know where.” She gave McCall’s boss an ironic glance, which he returned with a bland, unconcerned smile. He obviously didn’t give a hang what she thought or felt.

  Unlike McCall, who’d be here any minute. He’d radioed his estimated ETA to his boss a short while ago.

  Wherever they were, it wasn’t heavily populated. A vast, flat land of red earth, pea-green scrub and stunted, twisted trees standing beside their taller, proud, ghostly cousins—the famed Australian eucalyptus trees, perhaps—and this deserted airstrip with the scrub-and-rock carpet beside the red-earth landing strip. Ready for as soon as they drove off, or flew away, to cover all traces of their presence.

  Fight it as she would, she felt a horrifying sense of kinship to these people—a creeping sense of belonging. No names, no permanent identity, change at a moment’s notice. Leave no traces behind. Even her house in Renegade River would be empty by now—the faceless removalists who’d never seen her or spoken to her would have her stuff in storage.

  And, even though she knew she had no choice, no say in this crazy life she led to keep Danny and herself free from Falcone’s putrid corruption, her stomach churned and her heart slammed against her ribs. She’d judged these people for living the same life as hers. She had no idea what they’d given up to lead this life, or why they did it. She’d just hated them, despised them without the benefit of a fair hearing.

  And she’d judged McCall most of all.

  A small, blinking light appeared above the fading horizon, like the first star of evening, like the reassuring wink of an old, loved friend. He was coming.

  “It’s your choice from here on in, Ms. Silver.”

  The quiet voice made her start. The rugged, handsome American was beside her. He looked as if he saw everything going through her mind, and understood her dilemma. She gave him the same dignity, refusing to prevaricate. “Give me the options.”

  He smiled a little, refusing to charm her. “Only in whose car you ride, Ms. Silver. The rest is nonnegotiable. You’re going to one of our training facilities, west of the outback town of Bourke. No one can even scout the place from thirty thousand feet without our complete knowledge. You’ll be safe there.”

  “I never understood the premise in books and movies that an isolated place, like a shack in the mountains, can be safe.”

  Her bland remark made his smile grow; yet still he gave her nothing, and she sensed that was the Nighthawks’ regular way of life. He seemed invincible yet somehow elusive, insubstantial as a tired phantom walking beside her in the night. “This house has trip wire every five yards for the first mile in, a tracking system so intense that we can trace mice after crops in the next property. Everything’s hooked up to our satellite system. Nothing for ten miles moves or breathes without our knowledge, and the system’s unbreakable. There’s a runway, and four planes in the back hangar ready to go should we need them.”

  She nodded, and, her heart thudding again, watched in silence as the small plane landed before them.

  “Your choice,” he said quietly.

  “Does—has he—” She clamped a hand over her mouth, aghast that she’d even started to ask. What power was there inside this strange man that inspired confidence against her will?

  McCall’s boss gave her a single glance, and answered her unasked question in blunt honesty, words with rough edges, telling the unvarnished truth. “He’s never compromised a case for a woman—not until now. So make your choice, Ms Silver. But remember, even men who walk in the shadows, who don’t have names, are human. They feel pain and bleed like any other man. They have hearts just like yours.”

  She bit her lip; but by the time she’d turned to face him there was only gentle half darkness, as if he’d melted into the dusk. Another one of the disappearing people.

  Just like her.

  Then McCall’s plane was landing, and every other man vanished from her thoughts. With her heart knocking a soft tattoo against her ribs, she watched as he brought the Cessna in with a grace rare even in experienced pilots. He vaulted out within moments, landing catlike straight from the cockpit.

  He didn’t even look at her. He crossed to where his coworkers were rolling out the carpet of earth and scrub, and helped them cover the runway. He didn’t so much as turn in her direction. He smiled down at Danny as her little boy jumped around him like a puppy, but he didn’t speak to him.

  I don’t want him anywhere near my son.

  He was obeying her, yet she felt snubbed. He’d turned his back on her just as she had to him, and it hurt. A lot more than she’d allowed anything to get to her since—

  You are a young woman, niña, but you are still a girl. You dream and wish like any other. One day you will find the one man who wrings your heart’s blood from you with hopes and dreams and needs and desire. Then you will understand why your father means more to me than life, and did from the day we met.

  And oh, she did understand—even why Mama had stopped breathing within a month of the car crash that took Papa’s life ten years ago.

  I’m sorry, Mama, I can’t afford to let that happen!

  But it had. That kind of love, that once-in-a-lifetime love had come to her a decade ago, and her heart had held on to it with all the tenacity in her being.

  Denial was her only life preserver in a storm-tossed ocean. Loving McCall might not be an option she had, but whether it brought her to her knees or not, she would maintain control. For Danny’s sake. McCall would take Danny’s trusting baby heart and crush it beneath that cloaked heel as he strode away from them, back to his world of shadows and phantoms.

  Until Falcone was gone from her life for good; until McCall spoke, until he stepped out of his protective darkness and gave her what she needed to know, she dared not risk her baby’s heart—or her own—on a man who had only promised to save them from Falcone, not to stay forever. Danny had been hurt enough, lost enough, without losing the dream of a daddy as well.

/>   “Nothing, sir,” Heidi reported quietly to Anson, her lovely Asian features reflecting the frustration they all felt. The entire team had been at this remote outback site for more than twenty-four hours, and Beth had given them absolutely nothing to work with. No evidence, no admission of her name—even when Anson played the tape of her voice talking about Falcone—and nothing to show her ID as anything but Elizabeth Anne Silver. “I’ve been through her things four times and searched her twice,” Heidi went on. “Not a sign of any identification that she’s anyone but Elizabeth Silver, and no sign of the tape.”

  “The house?” Anson snapped at Panther.

  The lean, sleek man, dark and elegant and dangerous, shrugged one shoulder. “Empty. I even took her garden apart, broke the few pots left. She had the place cleaned by experts.”

  “And what the hell are we?” Anson growled, pacing past each of them while they stood in silence like recalcitrant children. “This is one woman. One woman! How the hell can she outwit trained professionals?” His gaze flicked to the monitor, making sure Beth and Danny were still there.

  Heidi spoke again. “Maybe because she’s a trained professional? This woman either appeared from thin air, lived as an illegal alien all her life, or is a current or former pro to the game, with a life and identity we can’t crack. Have you sent her prints to all relevant organizations to be sure?”

  “Of course I have,” Anson retorted. “She’s absolutely clean.”

  “Are you sure, sir?” Only Heidi would challenge Anson when he was this furious. Only Heidi kept this cool under the wilting flame of Anson’s fire. “Are you sure one of the intelligence organizations isn’t taking countermeasures to protect her, even from us? If they don’t want her to be in the public eye—”

  “They’d have arranged an accident if she were in their league, and that delicate an issue,” Anson snapped. “You don’t play with the big boys and disappear on your own terms—you should know that, Heidi.”

  “But it seems to me that she’s done just that, sir.” Heidi’s chin turned just a shade more square, a touch more stubborn. “She’s evaded Falcone’s boys—and us—for years, sir. She’s been in the game, in my humble opinion. We just need to know whose chessboard she was—or is—playing on.”