Moving Target

by Regan Black

  She drew in a deep breath, leaning on the calm she used for competition. Chillers were winners. Her first coach had drilled that truth into her. Those who could control the nerves and leash the adrenaline took home the ribbons and medals and left a legacy.

  Behind her, Amelia’s phone hummed an alert. “Team of four,” she reported quietly.

  Jaime saw John’s back expand on a slow, steady inhale. Definitely a pro.

  They waited, all of them braced to leap into action at the merest sound. But the only sounds came from Amelia’s phone. She relayed the updates from the man named Ben as he stalked this team from who-knows-where.

  “Clear,” Amelia reported. “Ben will be at the door in a few minutes. Clean up,” she added.

  “Now what?” Scott asked no one in particular.

  John returned his pistol to the holster, indicated they could all stand down. “We’ll get the hell out of Clover City before UI sends more backup. We need some time to clear the air and be sure your tracker is offline.”

  “I guess this is where I say so long,” Jaime said to Scott. One by one, she secured and packed her guns. “You’ll be okay?”

  “No,” he replied. “I mean yeah, I’ll be okay, but you shouldn’t go alone.” With military efficiency and attention to safety, he handed over the revolver she’d loaned him.

  Her hands tingled as she stared at him. “Why not?”

  John echoed the question as he helped her stow the collection.

  Scott held up his hands in surrender. “Because I was sent to kill Jaime Castle. You, apparently.” He gave her a nod. “If I don’t, I’m afraid one of those other guys will. I thought they were following me to be sure I held up my end of the bargain.”

  “Bargain?” A buzz started in her ears, low at first, then blotting out all other sounds. She didn’t know how to process this information. Something touched her shoulder and she jumped, then caught her breath to find Amelia at her side.

  “We won’t let anyone hurt you,” she said.

  Jaime stared at Scott. “You’re a serial killer for real?”

  “Hell, no.” He turned his back and swore. “I can’t stay. You’re all in danger.” He stalked toward the door, but John stepped into his path. Turning back, his gaze pleading as he met hers, he said, “I’m a soldier. I was.” His expression pained, shattered, she had the absurd urge to hug him. “I’m not a killer at all and I refuse to become one.”

  “I let you fix my tire.” Her voice sounded tinny and weak in her head. “I gave you a ride.”

  “You gave me a drink too. And we shared this room.” His body rigid with tension, a muscle twitched in his jaw. “If I’d intended to follow the damned order, you wouldn’t be talking, you’d be dead. I was trying to escape, not infiltrate.”

  He was right. She was being ridiculous. “You don’t even know me.” She’d wanted to know him better while he’d been trying to avoid a direct order to kill her. “Do you?”

  He shook his head.

  “Do you know why they sent you after Jaime?” Amelia asked him.

  “Let’s talk about it on the drive,” John interrupted. As if on cue, an engine revved and a deep horn blared. “That’s Ben.”

  “I’ll stay,” Scott offered. “Get her out of here, keep her safe. I’ll deal with the fallout.”

  “No,” Amelia picked up the duffle bag they’d dropped for him last night. “We can’t be sure they’ll kill you.”

  “What?” Despite everything, Jaime didn’t want Scott to die. “You can’t really want him dead?”

  “Trust me, dead beats the alternatives,” John said. “Grab the gear. Get everything. Once we’re through the door, we’re not coming back.” They went out single-file with John in the lead, followed by Scott, Jaime and Amelia.

  “What did they promise you?” she heard John ask Scott as they hurried toward the stairwell.

  “If I succeeded, they’d let my two buddies go and me too,” Scott replied. “Take one life, save three, he told me.”

  In the parking lot, an old, mid-sized SUV painted in deer hunting camouflage was waiting, exhaust billowing in the cold air. Curious, she managed not to ask if Ben had bought it or stolen it. The four of them tossed everything from the room, gun cases to take-out bags into the back.

  “One and done?” John shook his head, exchanging a weighty glance with Amelia.

  What else did this couple know?

  “For the record, they lied,” John said, clapping Scott on the shoulder. “Get in and Amelia will explain it while I drive.”

  “Where are we going?” Jaime asked, pausing at the door behind the driver’s seat.

  “Away is the best bet right now.”

  She climbed in and fastened her seat belt. To her surprise, Amelia scooted into the seat between her and Scott, though the front seat was empty. “Don’t you want to sit up front with John?” she asked.

  Amelia grinned. “Ben’s there.”

  “I’d rather not advertise it, unless it bugs you,” a body-less voice said. “They’ll figure it out once that crew comes too, but why help them?”

  “Very few people know what Ben looks like,” Amelia explained. “The group that recruited Scott has been experimenting on soldiers for years. Ben is basically invisible, though he can show himself if he chooses.”

  “No fun in that,” Ben said.

  “They would have done that to Scott?” she asked.

  “Or worse,” John muttered. He put the car in gear and headed west, out of town. “Let me know when you have a location in mind,” he said to Amelia.

  She’d already pulled out her phone and was searching through a map app.

  Despite the evidence, Jaime struggled with the idea of an invisible man in the front seat. More, she struggled with the concept of experiments and fates worse than death being performed on people against their will.

  “I might have a better idea,” Jaime said. “My family has a defunct ranch that sits pretty much in the middle of nowhere. I was going to let Scott lay low there. It’s nothing fancy right now.” After a brief debate and confirmation that Jaime’s legal name wasn’t attached to the property, there was general agreement to head there and regroup. She gave John the basic directions. With every mile and no sign of pursuit, she relaxed a fraction more.

  “How does this agency keep getting away with stealing people from the military?” she asked a few minutes later, hoping Scott would open up.

  “They put good men and women behind the eight ball and see how they react. Those who cooperate, survive, and succeed soon come to believe they can ever escape.”

  “But the three of you are free,” she pressed.

  “We’re working on it,” Amelia clarified with a smile. “Like Scott, John was a decorated soldier manipulated into cooperating with UI. One mission after another dragged him in deeper until he’d almost given up on ever getting out.”

  “How did they trap you?” She looked past Amelia to Scott, but he was staring out the window, avoiding eye contact.

  “Scott and two others were recently court martialed for murder,” Amelia explained.

  “We’re innocent,” Scott said, his voice dull.

  “Their case smelled like a UI set up to me,” she continued as if he hadn’t interrupted. “They were found guilty and according to the one, singular article available, all three of them died when their escape vehicle rolled off the road. Five bodies were found at the scene.”

  “Died?” Scott echoed. “No.” He shook his head. “No way.”

  There was no way to fake that kind of shock, Jaime thought.

  “That can’t be,” he sat forward. “The UI agents or whoever it was, pulled us out and lined us up. They were alive, their handcuffs chained together before they were marched off to a dingy panel van while the guy in charge explained what I needed to do to save them.”

  “Let me guess, charcoal suit, Ivy League voice,” John said.

  “That’s him,” Scott said, testing the limits of his seat be
lt as he leaned toward the front seat.

  A creative insult floated through the car as Ben shared his opinion.

  “Who is he?” Jaime asked.

  “We only know him as Messenger,” Amelia said. “I haven’t yet figured out his real name.”

  “You will,” John said with confidence, shooting her a smile in the rearview mirror.

  “Why would they tell Scott—or anyone—to kill me?” Jaime asked. “We never met until last night.”

  “I wasn’t going to do it,” Scott said.

  “I believe you,” she said earnestly. As he’d pointed out earlier, he’d had ample opportunity. “This whole mess has me rattled.”

  “Yeah.” He gave her a faint smile. “Me too.”

  At John’s direction Scott described it all from his perspective. How he’d been given her name and told nothing more than to head north. When he’d tried to escape or turn back, he’d been intercepted. Violently. That explained the bruises she’d seen. Humiliation shading his voice, he admitted he’d stolen the clothing and a little cash along the way. The charity of drivers who’d picked him up and rummaging through garbage bins had supplied his food when he’d eaten.

  Jaime almost smiled, recalling how he’d devoured that pie.

  Her mind wandering, she listened with half an ear while Amelia shared all they’d learned about the organization and typical tactics employed by the UI agency. Thank goodness Scott’s true nature had conquered the bullying and pressure of this Messenger-agent in charge.

  There were hours of driving time yet. Too much time to go without real answers. Though she turned it over and over in her mind, she couldn’t come up with a single reason for anyone to want her dead.

  She directed John around Bozeman and toward Eagle Rock. The place she’d been willing to offer Scott was nestled against the Crazy Mountains and it was well after dark when they turned down the long driveway. The place wasn’t in the best condition, but it was better than a random motel where innocent people might get hurt.

  She’d managed to get a new roof on the main house last spring and had a list of projects she wanted to tackle while she made up her mind about how best to sell the property. It wasn’t until they were unloading that she realized Ben wasn’t with them. “Where did he go?” she asked.

  “He’ll keep watch for a bit, give us plenty of warning when UI finds our trail,” Amelia explained.

  “Will they ever stop coming after Scott? Or me?”

  “Once we give them good reason to, yes,” John answered.

  Inside, Jaime gave them the quick tour of the well-worn two-story main house her great grandfather had built and subsequent generations had improved upon through the years. The others insisted she take the master suite, though she was sure John and Amelia would have been more comfortable there. Instead, they chose the larger of the guest rooms and Scott chose the room across the hall. No one seemed worried about Ben or his accommodations so she wouldn’t either.

  Listening to the familiar sounds of the house settling didn’t lull her to sleep as it usually did. Now, when she desperately needed sleep, every creak and sigh jerked her awake, making her wonder if someone had found them. Knowing Scott was just down the hall, snoring softly, was a temptation that kept her tossing and turning as well.

  Giving up on sleep for the moment, she tiptoed down to the kitchen to brew some tea. She’d barely lifted the kettle from the stove when she heard a groan from the porch near the back door. She reached for the knife drawer when the door opened on hinges in need of oil.

  “Just me.”

  She’d sensed it was Scott before he’d spoken. “Tea?”

  “No thanks.” He shook his head and snowflakes drifted from the brim of his ball cap. “Water will do.”

  “Help yourself. Glasses are right there.” She lifted her chin toward a cabinet. In the big square kitchen there was plenty of room for them to move around each other. So why did she suddenly miss the cramped motel room?

  “Why were you outside?”

  “Couldn’t sleep,” he said, drinking deeply. “Easier to check the perimeter from the actual perimeter.”

  “Right.” She’d been wishing she could fall asleep while he’d been doing his part to keep them all safe. Exasperated with herself, she took her tea and her bewildered thoughts to the dark family room and stared out at the even darker night beyond the windows.

  “Thanks for letting us stay,” Scott said, following her. “Thanks for letting me stay.”

  “Why me?” she heard herself ask. “I’ve been trying to figure that out for hours. Why did they tell you to kill me?”

  “I don’t know,” he replied. “I would never have done it.”

  He stood in the shadows behind her, but she didn’t feel threatened. No she wanted him to come closer, to wrap her in his arms and give her something else to focus on. What was wrong with her? Jaime Castle faced her problems head on. She didn’t hide or shelter behind a big strong man, no matter how he tempted her.

  “I’d already decided killing in cold blood was a line I couldn’t cross.”

  Twice he’d had a loaded gun he could have used against her. He could have improvised a dozen ways to kill her in her sleep. Not to mention the lug wrench, though he didn’t know her name then. Still, there was something more to her faith in this near-stranger than the immediate proof justified. She should be running, or calling the cops. Yet she’d simply accepted it when Amelia and John said that bringing in anyone else would only make matters worse and likely get more innocent people killed.

  “If I thought differently one of us wouldn’t be here.” Maybe she’d have better luck sleeping out in the bunk house. A little distance from the man who put this vivid spark in her system couldn’t hurt.

  He’d come up right behind her, but she didn’t need the squeaky floorboard as a warning. Apparently she was attuned to his every move from the first moment they’d met on the side of the road. A black-ops setup had brought them together, yet something else—a fascination or attraction—had quickly flared between them. If only the circumstances were different, she might have asked him out.

  “Jaime?”

  She turned toward him. “Hmm?”

  “You’re too generous.”

  “Why? Because I wasn’t raised to leave people out in the cold?” Being a decent human being was one more reason she was increasingly pissed off that someone put her on a hit-list.

  In the shadows, she felt his smile more than she saw it. Then she felt his lips on hers, a fleeting chaste touch that was gone too quickly.

  She clutched the cup of tea in both hands and heard his sharp inhale. Slowly, he closed the distance once more. His mouth was cool from the water he’d been drinking, but it warmed up from one heartbeat to the next as she kissed him back.

  “Why?” she murmured, her heart hammering and her breath ragged.

  “I’ve seen how fickle life can be.” His callused fingertips stroked across her cheek, down her throat and over her collar bone.

  Her entire body seemed to sigh under that touch, understanding the sentiment as well as the invitation packed within it. “Carpe diem, huh?”

  His hands moved up and down her back, settling on her hips, gripping a little. “Something like that.”

  The shiver rippling through her had nothing to do with the cold house or any fear of the people in it. It felt as if every cell in her body leaned closer, yearning for something only he could give.

  “You’re different.” She dealt with strong, confident men every day. She liked many of them, had dated several over the years. She’d met all types, several who’d been overconfident in their various skills or maybe just too eager to underestimate hers. Scott was a different breed altogether. In crisis or calm, something about him resonated through her system as though something within her recognized him.

  It was the most absurd thought she’d ever had. Shocked, she stepped back, tea in hand, while two voices in her head argued over self-preservation and throwin
g caution to the wind. Inner recognition or not, she barely knew this man.

  “I hope you can get some sleep.” She deliberately moved toward the stairs before she flung herself into his tough, capable body.

  “You too.” Behind her, his voice was a soft caress along her spine.

  She wanted to feel those lips, that voice, all over her body. At her open bedroom door, she paused. Did she have the courage to ask for what she wanted?

  The need must have been stamped on her face. Scott closed the distance in quick, long strides and wrapped her in his arms. They hit the floor, knocking the breath from her lungs as he rolled. She heard glass breaking. Wood splintered, raining down on them.

  An eerie quiet reigned for all of two seconds until John and Amelia burst out of their room at the racket.

  *

  “Sniper,” Scott stated in a harsh whisper. Staying low, he tucked Jaime close to his side, protecting their backs with the wall.

  John pulled Amelia close as well. “Ben is on it,” he said. “Just hold here.”

  “I thought you said the tracker was dead?” Scott’s heart thundered in his chest. He couldn’t find his combat calm, not with Jaime trembling beside him. A few minutes ago he’d had his hands on her while they stood in front of a window downstairs, completely vulnerable. Scott’s temper was about to snap.

  “If it wasn’t, they probably would’ve caught us on the road,” Amelia replied. “I think they have more intel on Jaime than we expected.”

  “But this house is still registered in my grandfather’s name.”

  Amelia’s phone lit up without a sound. “You’re on speaker,” she said once she’d answered.

  “You’re clear,” Ben reported. “UI sniper. Pretty sure he was alone.”

  “I’ll help you search,” John said, standing.

  “Me too.” Scott stood as well and held out a hand to Jaime, inordinately relieved when she accepted his assist. Most women would have called the cops and been done with him by now. “We can’t take any chances on a repeat of that.”

  He left his door open as he shoved his feet into his boots and pulled a dark sweatshirt over his head. In the hallway, he heard the two women talking.