With a start, Lyndsey realized her thoughts had entered a level never before explored in regard to her relationship with Burke. She knew with a disturbing certainty that James Burke was what completed her, and without him in her life, she worried she would never be whole.
Over the last few months, Burke had shown remarkable progress. He’d been faithful in Sydney and was even beginning to anticipate her needs, not a small thing for an alpha like Burke, whose approach to almost anything was a slug of whiskey and a stiff upper lip. He had even been engaging in “talk.” The kind of talk couples do that is often more intimate than sex. He was terrible at it, of course, but that only made Lyndsey appreciate his efforts even more.
He had more than once told her that he loved her, although she had yet to repeat it back to him. This knowledge caused a twinge inside. What if Burke had somehow managed to get himself killed without ever hearing how she felt? And that brought up the obvious question—did she love him?
Lyndsey instinctively knew the answer, but her mind resisted the thought and her heart drew inward at the thought of embracing it. It wasn’t a recoil of disgust, however…it was fear. Could she give Burke her heart—and the power to crush it? Perhaps a more salient point was could she endure not giving Burke her heart?
As Lyndsey realized the answer to that question, she felt her eyes begin to burn with tears. She sniffed, trying to covertly dab her eyes, but Charlie saw the movement and slid over.
“Hey, there, girl. What’s the matter? Why the tears?”
“It’s…nothing.”
“Doesn’t look like nothing. Is it about Burke?”
Lyndsey nodded.
“I’m sure he’s fine. It would take more than a little helicopter accident to slow him down.”
“It’s not that.”
“Oh? Then what is it?”
Lyndsey blushed and looked away. “I finally admitted to something I’ve known for a long time.”
Charlie smiled, her white teeth glinting moonlight. “You love the bastard, don’t you?”
Lyndsey nodded, now full on crying. “I do. I love the bastard. And now I’m afraid I won’t be able to tell him.”
“I THOUGHT that old guy was going to try to take us all out with that knobby walking stick thing,” Burke said as the three men trudged along the cliff path. “And I think he could have done it too.”
“It’s called a shillelagh,” Perry said. “And he probably could have done it. Not that you would have been much help if he’d tried, you and your broken arm.”
Burke snorted. “Excuse me, did I or did I not take out a chopper?”
“Pure luck. You couldn’t do it again if you tried.”
“Give me another chopper and I’ll show you how lucky I am.”
Moore let out a deep growl. “Worse than having kids, you two. Now shut up and save your strength.”
After no more than five seconds of silence, Burke said, “Where the hell are we going anyway?”
Moore sighed but didn’t object. “Moher Tower. It’s the ruins of an old stone watchtower on Hags Head. It was used as a lookout during the Napoleonic Wars.”
“How fascinating,” Burke said. “How much farther is it?”
“Not far now. Your arm bothering you?”
“Not unless you consider a racking pain that runs up your arm and ends by exploding in your skull in constant waves of agony a bother.”
“It’s not far to the tower. Then you can sit and wait for the troops to arrive.”
“Speaking of that,” Perry said, “what’s the plan once they get here? Can we all just agree this entire venture was a mistake and go home?”
Moore smiled. “A tempting proposition, but now that we know Zmaj is afoot, things are more complicated. I think we should wait for the others to arrive before making any plans. Who knows what they’ve uncovered while we’ve been gallivanting around.”
“Some gallivanting,” Burke said. “How many times did we almost die? I lost count at one million.”
Perry scoffed. “You’re so dramatic. Lyndsey is so level-headed, I don’t know how she puts up with you.”
“I’m good in bed.”
“Always the Casanova. Broken arm, barely survived a helicopter crash, and he’s thinking about sex.”
“That’s because Lyndsey is even better in bed than I am. And I don’t toss around those kinds of compliments easily, you know.”
Moore coughed. “Speaking of Lyndsey, I think she may be arriving.” He pointed into the sky, where several blinking lights were approaching from the east. “In fact, now I hear it. It’s a chopper, all right.”
“And I think I see the tower,” Perry said. “Come on, let’s move.”
Motivated by the prospect of imminent rescue, the three agents quickened their pace and within minutes were leaning, gasping, against the cold stone of Moher Tower.
The chopper was close now and, as they watched, a spotlight flicked on and began playing across the ground. It made a single pass along the cliff path before turning and heading back toward the tower.
“Okay, men, now it’s time to earn your pay. Starting moving around, waving your arms, twirling around, whatever you can do to draw their eyes. Let’s go!”
All three started jumping and waving their arms, even Burke, although his aerobics were accompanied by regular grunts of pain and strings of creative profanity. At last, the spotlight swept their way…and stopped.
“They see us!” Perry shouted. “They see us!”
The chopper turned, searching for a suitable landing space. It slowly descended, coming to rest about twenty yards from the tower.
The first person out of the chopper was Lyndsey, and when she saw Burke, her face practically lit up the night. She ran forward and grabbed him around the waist.
“You’re okay!”
“Well, I do have a little arm thing—”
“But you’re alive!”
“As are you! It’s a great day!”
Lyndsey laughed and quieted Burke’s jokes by covering his mouth with her own.
By this time, Adabelle had reached Perry and given him a tender kiss. “It’s good to see you.”
“And you, beautiful. Glad to see you’re okay. Been busy?”
Adabelle grinned. “Oh, just you wait. We have some stories for you boys.”
“Well, I don’t know about all of you,” Dot barked out, “but all this lovey-dovey shit has made me horny as hell.”
Charlie hung back, smiling widely at the happy reunions. She winked at Moore. “I suppose it would be inappropriate. You know, my being your subordinate.”
Moore blushed. “Young lady, please!”
Everyone laughed, but then Adabelle held up one hand for silence.
Perry looked at her. “What’s the matter, honey? Hear something?”
“I thought I did,” Adabelle said. “Yes—it sounds like another chopper.”
Dot hooted. “How many whirlybirds can there possibly be on this island?”
“Nevertheless, I hear one.”
Lyndsey nodded. “I hear it now too. It’s coming in fast.”
“Everyone take cover inside the tower,” Moore said. “I don’t like this at all.”
They all hustled inside and took up positions against the walls. Moore edged forward and peered out.
“It’s headed right for us and losing altitude. I think it intends to land.”
“Then they’ve already seen us,” Perry said. “How the hell did they see us?”
“Night vision, most likely. Damn it, I should have been more careful. They probably found the wreck and then saw our other chopper coming in. We should have loaded up and gotten the hell out of here immediately. If you damn lovebirds hadn’t—oh, forget it.”
Suddenly, Dot broke cover and began striding toward their chopper.
Moore swore and tried to grab her, but the old woman was already long past his reach. “Dot! Get back inside!”
Predictably, she ignored his order and k
ept going. At the helicopter, she opened the side door and pulled out a large canvas duffel. With some difficulty, she hoisted it and began making her way back to the tower. When she was almost halfway, there was a sharp rattling sound and the dirt around Dot’s feet exploded.
“They’re firing on her,” Moore said. “Run, Dot!”
Lyndsey, Adabelle, and Charlie immediately pulled their sidearms and returned fire, hoping to give Dot some cover. For her part, Dot appeared to be going as fast as she could under the heavy load. Then Perry charged through the doorway. He reached Dot in seconds, grabbed the bag, and began hustling her back to the relative shelter of the tower.
Once inside, Moore drew himself up as if to begin a lecture, but Dot waved him off.
“Save your breath, old man. You’ll need it to sing my praises once you see this shit.” She opened the duffel and then stepped back triumphantly. The bag was full of weapons, including Dot’s favorite sniper rifle. She reached forward and grabbed it. “The rest of you can fight over the scraps—this puppy is mine.”
Just then, the helicopter roared overhead and then began a banking turn.
“At least that one doesn’t appear to be armed,” Burke said. “It looks more like a corporate bird. Someone must have been firing an automatic weapon from inside.”
“Probably Zmaj’s personal craft. That illegitimate monkey—he’s got us together again. He’s either really good or the luckiest son of a bitch I’ve ever known.”
“No, that’s Perry,” Dot said. “Have you seen Foxy in her skivvies? I have and I almost grew a dick and had an erection.”
“Wait just a second,” Burke said. “I really must object, as I believe I am the luckiest.” He pointed to Lyndsey. “I mean, look at her!”
Dot shrugged. “Okay, fine. Let’s toss them into bed together and let them compete.”
“Oh my god!” Moore roared. “Am I living in a sorority house? Everyone shut up unless you have ideas about not dying!”
“Unless you’ve forgotten,” Burke said, “I’m pretty good with choppers. Got an assault rifle in that bag, Dot?”
Dot scoffed. “That’s like asking if I can tie my tits in a knot. Of course I brought an assault rifle, although I’m not sure how you’ll use it with one arm.”
“Don’t get him started,” Perry mumbled.
The chopper had once again reached the tower. It hovered and then began descending not far from the one that had delivered the SpyCo agents. It landed, the engine cut out, and the props gradually began slowing. Everything was quiet for a moment, and then a voice was heard through what sounded like a megaphone.
“Greetings, SpyCo,” it said. “This is your friend Zmaj. I cannot tell you how excited I am to be meeting you once again. I find it only fair to inform you that we are heavily armed and expecting reinforcements. Please lay down whatever weapons you have and step from the tower with your hands up. If you surrender willingly, I promise to make your deaths quick and painless.”
19
The SpyCo agents, having armed themselves from Dot’s arsenal, took up defensive positions around the interior of the tower and waited for Moore’s lead.
“Not sure how I can respond to him,” Moore said. “Unless Dot has a megaphone in that duffel.”
Dot shrugged. “Okay, so I didn’t think of everything. But here’s an alternative.” She raised the sniper rifle and sent a bullet into the nose of the chopper.
There was a pause and then the voice said, “That was a very unwise decision. Am I to take that as a refusal to surrender?”
Moore nodded at Dot, who squeezed off another shot.
“Very well,” the voice said. “Then you will all die here, on these cliffs.”
The doors of the chopper opened and several figures jumped out. They fanned out until their perimeter formed a semi-circle in front of the tower. One of the men knelt and lifted something to his shoulder.
“It’s a launcher!” Moore shouted. “Get down!”
There was a flash of fire and something slammed into the side of the tower. The entire structure shook and masonry rained down around the agents. Burke crawled across the floor, gouging his palms and knees on sharp pieces of rubble. He reached the duffel and began rifling through it.
“Dot! Anything in here that explodes?”
“Couple hand grenades in the inside pocket.”
Burke felt around and found the grenades. He fished them out, then rose and made a mad dash to the other side of the tower, where a window provided a throwing lane marginally safer than the doorway.
Immediately following the explosion, the soldiers outside had begun closing their perimeter, firing their assault rifles as they advanced. Burke took a deep breath, pulled the pin on one grenade with his teeth and then, channeling his young dreams of becoming a Major League pitcher, chucked it through the window in a beautiful arching trajectory in spite of having to use his left hand.
From outside, there was a shout as someone saw the incoming explosive—but it was too late. The grenade exploded just above the ground and took out two soldiers, one almost decapitated by the blast and the second receiving a cluster of shrapnel to the gut.
Perry took a moment to give Burke a slow clap. “Nice throw. Bet you can’t do that again.”
“Oh, ye of little faith,” Burke said. “You know, if I didn’t know better, I’d think you wanted me to fail just so you can make fun of me.” And with that, he bit down on the pin on the second grenade, yanked, and let it fly. At first, it appeared a good throw, but Burke’s luck at using his non-dominant hand had run out. The grenade drifted to the right and caught the side of the window, ricocheting off with a disheartening dink. It fell toward the floor of the tower, mere seconds from detonation. Before anyone else could move, Charlie lunged forward. Without the time to catch and throw, she gave the grenade an open-handed slap that sent it careening out the door and bouncing across the grass toward the advancing enemy.
“Grenade!” someone yelled, and the troops hit the dirt.
The pineapple kept rolling as they did so, coming to rest mere inches from the face of a prone soldier.
Blam!
Not knowing the SpyCo agents were out of grenades and not relishing the thought of getting blown up one by one, the attackers apparently decided time was of the essence and charged the tower.
Zmaj’s voice, crazy with bloodlust, boomed from the megaphone. “Kill them all!” He ended this command with a long version of his horrifying laugh.
The scene turned to sheer bedlam. The noise was extraordinary. Bullets flew everywhere, slicing the night and peppering the stone walls of the tower in quick staccato. And then the soldiers were inside and it was all close quarters, small arms fire, slicing knives, and flying fists. Burke saw one burly man armed with a knife grab Lyndsey around the throat and brought him down with a snapping pistol shot as the knife began descending. Lyndsey pulled free, blew Burke a kiss, and then engaged with another attacker. Burke whirled in time to duck a sweeping knife blade and watch as Dot dropped her assailant with a kick to the nuts.
And then it was quiet.
Burke saw a dark figure—the final soldier, he assumed—dart through the doorway. A moment later, Zmaj’s chopper came to life and the rotors began to whine. Burke was about to suggest rushing the aircraft when an assault rifle—probably two—opened up on the tower doorway.
“They’ve got us pinned in here,” Moore said, reading Burke’s mind. “And I’m not willing to risk casualties to take the chopper. Looks like we’ve survived this one, so let’s live to fight another day.”
The chopper lifted off the ground, and as it gained altitude, the gunfire stopped.
And then Burke heard a scream. His blood froze. He glanced frantically around. “Has anyone seen Lyndsey?”
Perry shrugged. “The last time I saw her, she was fighting with one of the soldiers and seemed to have the matter well in hand.”
The scream sounded again.
“Oh my god, that’s her!�
�
Burke ran from the tower, closely followed by the others. Once they were out in the open, the chopper began turning back.
“They’re going to try strafing us with those rifles!” Moore shouted. “Burke, go find Lyndsey! Everyone else concentrate your fire on the cockpit and drive off that bird!”
Burke charged around the side of the tower and almost immediately spotted two figures struggling a few yards from the cliffs. Burke raised his pistol, but then lowered it. In the darkness, it was impossible to get a clear shot at this range and he couldn’t risk hitting Lyndsey. Instead, he kept running, closing the distance even as the combatants continued to grapple. As they fought, they edged closer and closer to the cliff’s edge—and Burke knew it was hundreds of feet to the water below.
“Lyndsey! Watch out for the cliffs!”
Burke saw the knife. It was a replay from inside the tower, but now the shot was far more difficult. Could he risk it?
“Stop!” he shouted. “Don’t—!”
The knife came down, but Lyndsey blocked it with a forearm. And then Burke was there, piling into the man like a battering ram. Together, they fell to the ground, rolling over and over, Burke’s momentum carrying them toward the cliff. His broken arm screamed for mercy.
Now it was Lyndsey’s turn to shout. “Burke! Let go!”
Burke felt hands grabbing at his back—Lyndsey trying to pull him, hold him—but it was too late. They were going over. That sick feeling of complete helplessness just before an accident settled in his chest. He grabbed wildly for Lyndsey, but she slid from his grasp. He felt her hands grip his ankles and hold. He clawed at the cliff face even as his speed increased, and somehow managed to jam the fingers of his good hand into a small crack in the rock. Their assailant was gripping the side of the cliff as well and kicked out, trying to knock Burke loose. One of Lyndsey’s hands let go of its hold, and a second later, Burke heard a gunshot and saw the man drop backward off the cliff and into the void.
Assignment- Danger A SpyCo Collection 4-6 Page 28
