Ghost's Treasure
Page 13
Finding the two books that marked the place, she removed them from the shelf. Next, she grabbed the key, and slipped the thin metal into the lock.
"Watch a lot of spy movies?" Ghost whispered behind her.
She grinned but didn't take her focus from opening the metal box. "Not really. I just knew normal security wouldn't be enough. No one comes down here except me. So I figured stashing a box behind books no one reads would be as safe as I could get." Feeling the latch click, she carefully opened the door, gingerly pulling out three piles of linen. Turning, she met Ghost's gaze. "Here's what the big fuss is about."
Pulling back the wrappings, she uncovered one item at a time, glancing up now and again to catch the expression on Ghost's face. As usual, his face remained neutral, although she caught the tiniest flicker of surprised appreciation.
"No wonder art thieves are swarming. The jewels and gold alone would bring a tidy sum on the market." He continued to stare at the objects.
"That's what I thought. But when Ryan told me what they were, I knew they'd never sell. Private collectors would do anything to add them to their list of priceless goods, thus the underhanded games." She looked them over, noticing how they caught the artificial light and gleamed. "To be honest, I'll be more than happy to be rid of them."
"Why?"
She met his gaze. "They're old. Gorgeous. And historically very significant. However, I'm not ready to trade my life for them."
His lips turned up a smidgen, so quick she wasn't sure she actually saw the movement. "Smart woman."
She grinned at him. "Thanks." Taking a moment to refold the linens, she opened her purse and tucked them carefully in the bottom, making sure nothing sharp poked against them. "Let's get out of here before trouble comes knocking." Locking the box back up, she dropped the key in her pack, grabbed the books, and shoved them back into place. Quickly regaining her feet, she spun toward the stairs.
Backtracking the way they came, Ghost led the short jaunt to his waiting SUV. They climbed in just as the last rays of sunshine disappeared over the horizon. While she knew the dark benefitted them, she couldn't suppress the shiver that caused her body to quake.
"Cold?" Ghost started the engine and pulled out.
"No. Just antsy." She watched him from the corner of her eye, noting the attentive relaxation as he drove with grace and total command. Just like the man himself.
"You're safe. I'll make sure of it."
"I know. And I realize we've been through this already. I just…"
He turned to pin her with his gaze. "Worry."
"Yes. I can't help it. It comes with the territory. I'll worry until this whole business is wrapped up and you're home safe and sound."
She could have sworn a flicker flashed in his eyes. His jaw ticked for a brief moment before he broke the silence. "I've forgotten what it's like to have someone care for me. Worry about me. It's… nice."
Anyone could have bowled her over with a spoon at his admission. Her mouth fell open as she celebrated another small victory on the path to her ultimate goal. She grinned wryly at him. "I'm glad to hear that because I'm afraid you've grown on me."
"Like mold?" He arched an eyebrow at her.
She chuckled at his attempt at humor, reveling in the moment. "Better than mold. More like algae."
He snorted, but she could tell he found her somewhat amusing.
All too soon he pulled into the parking lot of her apartment, choosing an empty spot close to her normal entrance. He cut the engine, unsnapped his belt, and turned his attention on her. "You know the plan?"
"Yeah." She met his gaze. "You'll stay with me until we meet Ryan and Lark?"
Ghost nodded. "Yeah. Then I'll go set some silent alarms and prepare for our visitor."
"Guess there's no time like the present." She sucked in a deep breath, unfastened her seat belt, and opened the door. Sliding out, she hurried over to the sidewalk where Ghost waited, busy scanning the area. Josie didn't waste time. Without hesitation, she entered the main doorway and immediately took the stairs down.
Her apartment was on the second floor, but Ghost didn't want her anywhere near the area. Instead, he decided they'd make a big show of returning to the building, following her normal routines, then as soon as they were inside, duck onto the ground floor. Following the hallways, they'd move along quickly until they found Ryan and Lark near the laundry room. There, he'd turn her over to their care.
A tall blond-haired man stepped into the center of the hall. Josie slowed until she finally recognized him in the dim lighting. Their contact.
"Hey, Josie."
"Ryan." She pulled her purse around and dug inside. Finding the plastic bag, she quickly handed the items over. "Here you go. Please take these now and get them back to their rightful owners."
He nodded. "I imagine they've been nothing but a nightmare for you."
"Much more than I ever wanted to chew off." She adjusted her stance in order to keep an eye on both men.
"Out of curiosity, what would you have done with the money?" Ryan tucked the bag into his shirt.
She didn't hesitate to answer. "Bought a home in the country. Space. Clean air. Room to target shoot."
Ryan tilted his head. "Target shoot?"
Josie grinned. "Until a year ago, I used to participate in world class biathlon. I retired. Now… I think I want to give the sport another try."
Ryan's eyebrows shot up. Ghost simply looked at her with quiet respect.
"You better get going. We don't have time to waste." Ghost nudged her gently in the back.
Before she could consider her actions, she threw her arms around Ghost and hugged him tight. "Be careful."
For a brief moment, his embrace tightened before he slackened his hold. "Go on. Get out of here."
With one more glance, she trotted down the hall beside Ryan, her heart in her throat.
Within a few strides, she entered the laundry room, finding the place empty except for a pretty petite blonde who, judging by her great resemblance to Ryan, had to be his sister Lark. She grinned at Josie.
"Let's get you changed."
"Changed?" Josie blinked at her.
Lark leaned in and whispered in her ear. "In the laundry basket is a pregnancy outfit and maternity clothes. Put those on and the wig. After all, the hit man will be looking for a blonde, not a black-haired pregnant woman."
"Oh." Stepping into the bathroom, Josie found the garments Lark mentioned, shucked her clothes, and commenced dressing as quickly as possible. The rubber device with the distended stomach took a minute to figure out, but soon she had it on and pulled the light blue slacks up over the bulge. She opened the door and walked out, automatically leaning back to accommodate the heavy load on her front.
Ryan gave her a nod.
"Here. Drop your purse in this basket of towels and cover it up." Lark placed the unfolded linens in front of her then picked up another clothing basket. "Grab it and let's go. Ryan will cover us. Bryce is just outside in a black SUV with tinted windows."
Together, they hustled into the night.
Josie held her breath, waiting for someone to jump out from behind a bush or for a shot to sound. Nothing. Only the background noise of cars coming and going on the nearby road and the occasional door opening and shutting as someone entered or exited the building behind them.
Ryan jerked open the second row door of the vehicle and waved Josie in. She tossed in the basket first then climbed into the vehicle. By the time she settled in, Lark hopped in to the passenger seat, Ryan sat beside her, and a tall man with black hair and a dark complexion started the engine.
"Josie. This is Bryce. My fiancé."
"Nice to meet you."
"You too." He studied her in the rearview mirror for a second. "Don't worry. We're dropping Ryan off at the first door. He's backtracking up to one of the apartments near yours. He'll watch Ghost's back."
She turned to look at the blond next to her. "Does Ghost know about this?"
"Okay."
Bryce slowed, and Ryan shoved the door open, jumped out, and almost immediately disappeared inside the rear entrance to Josie's apartment building.
"Good luck," she whispered.
Lark turned to her with an encouraging expression. "They'll be fine. They're the best, after all."
Bryce pulled onto the street. "Trust me. I've never seen anyone Ghost's equal. Damned scary if you ask me. If anyone can pull this off, it'll be him."
Josie clung to their words and let them soak in. Unfortunately, while helpful, they didn't quell the rising tide of fear inside her. Nothing would. Until Ghost returned to her safe and sound.
Chapter 28
"Josie? Would you like something to eat? Perhaps something to drink?" Lark asked from the kitchen doorway. Bryce had moved to the upper floor, watching windows and scanning the perimeter for unwanted visitors in order to give an early warning to the girls if needed.
Swinging around, Josie shook her head. "No, thanks. I'm fine." She resumed pacing from one end of the living room to the other, unable to sit still for more than a few minutes. Her nerves crackled with energy. Nervousness and worry.
"He's going to be just fine." Lark walked closer, reaching out to lay a hand on Josie's arm. "He's the best I've ever seen."
"Yes, he's good. But…"
"Come sit down." Lark gestured toward the couch.
Heading over to the long leather sofa, Josie sank down in the soft cushions. A nearby end table lamp cast ample light across the room without too much illumination, which would silhouette them for potential attack. Almost immediately, Lark's dogs trotted over. Rose, the golden retriever rested her head on Josie's leg. With a sad smile, she began to pet the canine, feeling marginally better with the animal's attention, and the repetitive, relaxing motion.
"You've grown attached to him, haven't you?" Lark twisted to sit sideways, allowing for easy reach of the big male Rottweiler who nudged her pointedly while focusing on her houseguest.
"Yes." Denying the accusation proved useless. Lark's blue eyes could easily read her jumpy body language and interpret the results. "I don't want anything to happen to him. It would be my fault."
Lark shook her head. "There's something you need to understand about Ghost. About all of us. We know the danger and thrive on it. Adrenaline junkies live with a death wish. Whatever you call it, we love what we do despite the danger."
"Ghost said he hasn't feared death in a long time. Said as a SEAL, you can't be afraid of the worst because it would make them too careful." She whispered across the silent room with only their voices and the panting dogs.
"He's right. For all groups, but especially special ops." She patted Josie's shoulder. "This isn't your fault. Never blame yourself."
"If I hadn't sent those emails…"
"Ryan wouldn't have caught some big time art thieves who dabbled in killing on the side. You wouldn't have met Ghost, and your life would have remained unchanged." She ran her fingers through short light-blonde hair. "From what Ryan's told me, you've done great with this whole situation. That even Ghost has been impressed."
Josie looked down at the brown eyes of the sweet dog. "Every time I wanted to cry, to yell, to berate Ghost for taking over my life, I remembered how scared I was underneath it all. How all that stood between me and a brutal, untimely end was Ghost." She glanced back up at the other woman. "He's suffering, and it breaks my heart."
"The guys think his soul is dead."
Josie tilted her head, hearing the hesitation in Lark's voice. "Is that what you believe?"
"I think he's buried everything so deep, he's forgotten they exist."
"You're right." Josie nodded. "It's not my story to tell, but you're right. His emotions are still there just under such tight control he rarely releases them."
"Why do I think you've made a dent in those?"
"I'm trying. Been trying since the first day."
"Why? Why would you take the time to try to bring out his humanity again?" Lark eyed her closely.
Josie met her stare. "He's a great man who deserves to find happiness again in life. He's put his life on the line for me more than once, for his country countless times, for who knows what else for years. After all this time, he feels he has nothing else to offer but as a professional assassin. In that, he's wrong. He has a heart, a big one, and he needs to recall what he's fighting for, not just revenge."
"You love him." Lark made it a statement.
"I… I don't know. I care for him. Deeply. I know that much. I also understand it's not unheard of for a person to fall in love with their bodyguard or someone that saves their life. Relationships based on such high tension also tend to fail." She looked toward the front door. "All I know is that I want him to walk through that door, alive and unhurt. The rest can wait until after that moment."
"You know what I believe?" Lark patted her on the hand.
"What?" She turned her attention back to her host.
"I think you're something special and exactly what Ghost needs."
Josie shot her a lopsided grin. "I hope you're right."
Chapter 29
With night falling, Ghost made one more trip back to his vehicle, collected a black gym bag, scanned the area, then headed straight back to Josie's apartment. Switching on the kitchen light, he cracked the sliding glass doors on the balcony. If Striker showed up, he might feel the breeze from the open door and believe the pair had escaped by the fire escape. As soon as he stuck his head out, he'd make an easy target.
Sucking in a breath, he did one more quick appraisal of the home. Clothes were strewn across the floor while boxes of hodgepodge sat here and there, testimony to the FBI's lackluster attempt at cleanup. He'd remember to never recommend them for maid service. However, to be fair, they specialized in body removal and fingerprinting more than mopping and window-washing. With one more glance around, he pulled the small communication bud from his pocket and placed it in his ear. Locking the front door behind him, he entered the hallway and darted to the nearest stairs.
By the time he exited the building, night had fallen. All the better for him. Sticking to the shadows, he sprinted to the next apartment building over, found the maintenance entrance, and slipped inside. From there, he jogged up the stairs until he reached the roof. Only then did he slow down.
Digging through his gym bag, he pulled out the night vision goggles first, strapping them to his head. His sniper rifle soon followed. Crouching, he hastened to his predetermined spot right across from Josie's apartment, which also allowed him the best view from the four story building he presently rested on top of. His solid black attire melted into the darkness, ensuring his near invisibility.
"Mark," he whispered into the link.
"Gotcha. Alarms set." Ryan's voice came through loud and clear.
The nearby apartments had been evacuated for the night, presumably under the guise they needed to be sprayed for insects and checked for mice. The occupants were only too happy to find a place to stay for one night. This ensured safety with the coming confrontation.
In addition, Ghost had set an alarm on the front door earlier. If the door opened, a quiet warning would alert Ryan, notifying him of an intruder. Ghost did one better, placing a mechanical eye in a frog garden statue on Josie's balcony. If someone broke the beam, the object would beep in Ryan's ear. Ghost didn't need any alert. He had his goggles and his gun. He didn't need more than that.
Minutes turned into hours. Still Ghost lay on his stomach, ignoring the rough surface digging into his body as he constantly watched the apartment. He'd remain in position as long as necessary. Days if he had to. He'd done it before.
"Front door breached." Ryan's voice carried through the link.
Watching through his scope, Ghost waited for Striker to mo
ve closer, giving him a free shot.
He saw the man briefly step into the room, stare at the balcony door, then gaze up as if sensing Ghost's presence. Almost as quickly as he arrived, he left.
"Shit. He didn't take the bait." Ghost waited and watched, frustrated to have been so close only to lose his quarry.
Grabbing his bag, he moved to a kneeling position and prepared to rush back down the stairs.
A bullet ricocheted off the cement just in front of him. He threw himself down and flattened out, scooting around on his belly until he could bring his weapon back up. Damn close.
He hadn't expected Striker to see him or to race to the higher ground the five-level apartment building offered, giving him a much better firing position than Ghost's current one. The high-powered sniper rifle easily covered the distance, putting Ghost completely on the defensive.
Instinctively, he rolled to his right and kept going until he bumped up against the metal grate of the ventilation system. Two more shots landed close, one whizzed by his head near enough he could feel the heat. Looking through the scope, he found a mirror image of himself hugging the roof of Josie's apartment. The solid black clothing included a face mask, presumably to cover lighter-colored hair, which might stand out to a watchful and observant eye.
Gathering his energy, Ghost darted to his left, hunched over the entire way, as a silenced rifle sent another volley in his direction. Sliding down beside an air conditioning unit, he squatted and waited.
Ghost breathed out as another round lodged into the makeshift wall. "Too eager, Striker." Lining up his scope from around the metal object, he saw the assassin do the same thing. They stared at one another for a long moment through their highly detailed scopes, then Ghost slowly pulled the trigger. Tap. Tap.
The other man crumpled and didn't move.
"Tango down."