Release, page 18
How they were going to do that with their severely limited manpower was a question none of them could answer. The more intel they acquired, the better their chances.
Seth rolled under the wire, then made sure no one could tell that there was a breach. Then he belly-crawled toward the building, Boone just a darker shadow in the distance.
It was seven forty-five, and they were fortunate that night fell so quickly in the winter. And, at least for this part of the mission, he was fortunate to have the claw. It had proved very useful in the whole area of breaking and entering.
His watch alarm vibrated and he hit the dirt. The patrol would be by in a second, and he couldn’t move a muscle until the sound of the Jeep’s engine became a memory.
It was here, lying in a dry patch of desert, that it was the worst. Not the fear that they might be captured. Not even that they probably would be killed. It was Harper.
Two weeks, and he hadn’t gone a day without her. Kate, who’d called him three times, had told him to get in touch with Harper, that it wasn’t a lost cause, but Kate was in love and she thought everything had a happy ending.
Most of the time, he hoped Harper was miserable. He hoped she was tormented at the way she’d treated him, that she wanted nothing more than forgiveness and mercy.
Then he woke the hell up.
She’d said what she meant. Most people do, unless they’re trying to get something they shouldn’t have. She wanted him gone, and he’d granted her wish.
It hurt like a son of a bitch.
The good thing was they’d figured out the exact amount of time it took them to get back to the safety of the truck from wherever they’d patrolled during the night. That meant they worked until the last minute. By the time they were back at the motel both men were ready to crash hard.
Christie always made sure they had a decent meal, and Milo seemed thrilled each night that they’d made it home. They showered, stowed their gear, then Boone hit the bed and Seth hit the couch.
Christie had gotten herself a job as a waitress at a restaurant five blocks away from the motel, so she was gone while they slept. Luckily the motel only seemed to have the rare patron, so they weren’t even bothered by noise.
Of course, he had his dreams. They were pretty much the same each day. Harper telling him to go. Harper with the knife at her neck. Harper in the bed, naked and smiling. That last was the toughest. He’d wake up sweating and hard, and it was uncomfortable to jerk off on Christie’s couch, so he’d go to the bathroom. He felt like a twelve-year-old in there, but if he tried to ignore it, he would be awake until it was time to get up.
This was not the kind of operation that would cut any slack, so sleep was crucial. Eating well, keeping warm, good communication. It was like the old days. Only it sucked.
Finally it was safe to move again. He got up, stretched his neck and headed off at a dogtrot.
* * * * * *
The sunrise was the only beautiful time in this part of the desert. Acres of scrub lay on either side of the highway, heavily trafficked by folks leaving Vegas, heading east. But Seth was too exhausted to give the sight much attention. They’d gotten a lot done tonight, but there was so much more to do. It felt impossible, but he wouldn’t let himself go there. Getting out of Kosovo alive had been impossible. Fighting again after losing his hand had been unthinkable.
Falling in love had been the most unlikely thing of all.
* * * * * *
Ten minutes from home base, Boone’s cell rang. He’d turned it on the moment they were clear, as always, because from time to time Christie called. It was clear to Seth from Boone’s immediate smile that it was her on the line.
“No kidding?”
Seth kept his eyes on the road and his thoughts on sleep, not his pang of jealousy at the contentment in Boone’s voice. The two of them were happy, and he wouldn’t have wished his old friend anything less. But, goddamn, it hurt. It was a knife to his gut, just like all the other knives that pierced as he watched the two of them touch or smile or kiss.
“No problem, honey,” Boone said. “See you in ten.”
Seth glanced over and saw Boone close the phone and put it in his vest pocket.
“She wants me to take her to the market before we hit the sack.”
“So soon?” They’d done a shopping trip three days ago.
“Yeah. She forgot a couple of things.”
That was the end of the conversation for the rest of the ride. It wasn’t an uncomfortable silence, just a tired one.
When they pulled into the motel parking lot, Christie was standing outside room seven, purse in hand. She grinned at her lover, home from the wars, and met him as he stepped out of the truck. “Seth,” she said, leaning around Boone, “I left something for you. And Milo’s just come back in, so don’t let him trick you into a walk.”
Seth saluted. “Ma’am.”
She climbed into the truck to take his place, and Seth headed inside. He couldn’t decide if he was going to shower or eat first. Showering had more appeal.
He opened the door to the room, but he stopped just on the threshold. Because the something Christie had left for him wasn’t dinner. It was Harper.
His heart slammed into fifth gear as he stared. She looked great. Jeans, sweater, her hair golden and wild. The way she looked at him made it hard to breathe.
“You might want to shut the door,” she said. “The dog looks like he might bolt.”
Seth saw Milo eyeing his escape, so he stepped the rest of the way inside and closed the door behind him. “What brings you here?” he asked, hoping his voice hadn’t really just quivered.
“I came to talk. If that’s all right.”
He nodded.
She headed to the couch and sat on the edge. He sat next to her, waiting, hoping like hell this wasn’t just an encore to her last goodbye speech.
“I’ve been doing a lot of thinking,” she said. “Mostly about what an idiot I’ve been.”
He blinked, swallowed, found his throat dry as the desert.
“I want to apologize for what I said to you. I had no right to accuse you of bringing grief to the clinic. I did that all by myself. I should never have gone to work there. It was stupid. Suicidal. I knew Omicron wanted me dead, but I wouldn’t accept it. I kept thinking it wasn’t about me. I was so scared that all I wanted to do was hide. I thought I was invisible.”
“I wish it wasn’t so,” he said.
“I know. You did your best to protect me, and all I did was give you grief. I’ve wished a hundred times I could take it all back.”
“It’s okay.”
“No, it isn’t. You saved my life.”
“It was only fair. You’d saved mine.”
“Best thing I ever did, and you’ll never convince me it wasn’t.”
He looked down at his claw, dusty from his long night. He felt profoundly grateful that he hadn’t died over it. For so long it had felt as if he’d never fight again, and now, after only this short time of practice, it had become a part of him. It would never be as easy as having his hand back, but he could be useful, and that’s really all that mattered to him. “You were right to take my hand. Even if I had made it through, I wouldn’t have been half as adept as I am with this.”
“I’m glad.”
He looked at her, wondering if she’d come all this way just to say she was sorry. Not that he minded—it was a good thing to hear. But it wasn’t enough. Not for him.
“And there’s something else,” she said.
What’s that?”
“I was really horrible when it came to…” She looked down at her shoes. “When it came to us.”
“I don’t know if I understand.”
Her gaze came up to meet his. “I miss you, Seth. So much. We were just starting to get it right, and I blew it. I was hoping we could maybe try again.”
“I have work here. I can’t go back to L.A.”
“That’s why I quit.”
“What?”
“Well, that’s not the only reason. I quit the clinic because it was dangerous for me to be there. I quit because I kept looking for you in the break room. I wasn’t any good anymore anyway. I kept thinking about you, about us, and I didn’t want to be there.”
“You left the clinic?”
She nodded. “I couldn’t stay there, even if you don’t want me around. It wasn’t fair to them.”
“You think I don’t want you?”
She seemed a bit startled, but her gaze stayed steady. Then she touched him, four fingers on his arm. “Do you?”
He dislodged her hand, only to stand and pull her to him. She looked up, her lips slightly parted, her eyes wide and questioning.
Kissing her again was like coming home.
He’d thought about it so often, out there in the desert, how they’d not kissed enough. Not made love enough. He couldn’t account for the way he’d missed her. But now he understood. It wasn’t about how often. It was all about being with her.
Her small hands gripped him as if she’d fall from the earth if she let go. And that’s the way she kissed him, too. As if her life depended on it.
He tried to give it back to her in kind, to let her know that she was welcome in his home, in his bed. In his heart. He wasn’t good with words, but with his touch? At least, with his right hand.
It just felt so damn right to have her in his arms. Her body fit. The taste of her was better than anything he could imagine. This is how it was supposed to be.
She pulled back reluctantly, still holding on to him, but her eyes were more troubled. “There’s more to say.”
“After,” he said.
“No. Now. Before I can’t say it at all.”
He didn’t want to, but he let her go. They sat back down, Milo curled up right by his feet. It was dark in the room, with only one low-watt bulb in the lamp, but he could see Harper’s face just fine. “Okay,” he said. “Tell me what you need to.”
She inched a bit away from him on the couch, and he could see how hard this was for her. His own chest tightened, not sure he wanted to know.
“The way it’s been for me, always, is to get in and get out, fast, before I got in too deep. That part wasn’t you, not at all. Just so you know.”
“I couldn’t help but notice you had your bags packed.”
“Always. I never wanted to stick around because I never trusted another soul. Not since I was a kid.” She ran a hand through her hair, making it messier—and sexier—than before. “Remember I told you about my father?”
“How he’d fleeced all those people?”
“Yeah. What I didn’t mention was that it was my mother who turned him in. She was having an affair and she didn’t want him around. So she called the FBI. After he went to jail, she broke off with the new guy and found another one. A lawyer who didn’t want children. That’s when I went to boarding school.”
“You didn’t see her much?”
“In the beginning, twice a year. That stopped when I was fifteen. I didn’t see her again for two years.”
“What happened?”
“She divorced my father, married the lawyer and had another kid. When she finally came to the school, she let me know she had a new family. The old one—me—was in her past. She’d gone on to bigger and better things.”
“Shit.”
“I’d always been independent, and from then on I knew if I wanted anything out of life, I’d have to get it on my own. I got a full scholarship to college and a full boat on grad school. I worked during my residency, but I survived. But the trust thing was always there. Not just with men. With anyone.”
“I can see that. It makes sense.”
“Sense, yes, but you screwed it all up. I don’t want to live the rest of my life alone. I don’t want to mistrust everyone. I didn’t even realize what I was missing until you were gone. It’s no way to live, Seth.”
“No. It’s not.”
“You know,” she said, moving closer again, “I watched you call your folks one morning. You dialed the number, but you didn’t say anything. I could see it hurt you terribly, but I didn’t get it. I understood in a very logical way, as if I was watching a TV show or something. Now I see.”
“No one should be alone like that,” he said, hurting for her. “Not even someone so capable and strong.”
“But I’m not strong. Not like you. I’m defensive and I react badly to other people’s needs. That’s why you can’t just welcome me with open arms. I’m not good at this. Not good at—” she dipped her head again “—not good at loving someone.”
“Loving someone? Are you sure?”
She nodded. “I used to make fun of people who said those words. Not out loud, of course, but inside I knew they were fooling themselves. That they’d pay for their romanticism. Now I see I was the one paying. I cut myself off from so much of life. It was like living in a half-world. And it was cold and empty.”
He pulled her close on the couch, his arm around her shoulder, her head cradled in the curve of his neck. He ached for her and all he wanted was to make up for lost time. To shower her with everything she’d missed in her life. But that would have to wait. “I work every night,” he said. “It’s not like at your place. I don’t have the safety of being wounded anymore. We have to win this. Or nothing matters.”
“I’m here to help. In any way I can. Nate said in a while there’s going to be a lot of electronics surveillance to do. I’ve been practicing. I’ll never be as good as you, but if you’ll let me, I’d like to be your hands. For the delicate work. All those surgery rotations weren’t for nothing.”
He kissed her again, letting himself sink into this new reality. Harper was here, was his. She wanted to work with him, be with him. A shadow thought came right then, and he pulled back, knowing he had to ask or it would worry him. “This isn’t about your nightmares, is it?”
“No. I stopped having them the night you left. All I’ve been dreaming about since then has been you. God, Seth, I’ve wanted you so badly. I still don’t know how I could have been so stupid.”
“You have a strong sense of survival. It’s a good thing. You’re going to need it.”
“So you forgive me?”
He looked deep into her blue eyes. “For what?”
She kissed him so hard they both fell back on the couch. As she lay over him, she kissed his nose, his cheeks, his eyes. Then she whispered, “I got us a room. Paid through next month.”
“I think we’ll have to get out of bed before then.”
“Not if I can help it.”
He smiled. “I’ve known for a while now, you know.”
“What?”
“That I love you. That it was worth everything to be here right now.”
Her eyes widened as she let that sink in. Before she could speak he kissed her again, knowing it was the utter truth. He wouldn’t trade her for the world. Whatever it took, he’d make her safe. No matter what.
* * * * * *
Nate raced over the broken boards and jagged rocks, past the crumbling walls of the old building, his heart nearly pounding out of his chest. He could hardly see for the sweat in his eyes, but he found the door. Open.
He climbed down, his gun in his hand, the safety off.
She’d called. It was Tam’s number on his phone, so he knew it was her. All he’d heard was the gunshot.
He hit the floor running and he flipped on the light in the lab. He wanted to call out her name, but if they had her…
The place was a wreck. Tables overturned, file cabinets open, rifled. The whole place looked as if it had been hit by a tornado. She wasn’t there.
He moved more slowly now, cautiously. Afraid that his fear would get her killed. As he moved toward her bedroom, he saw blood spattered on the floor, a beaker.
There, at the end of the hall, a body. He couldn’t see if it was her. Just a shape in the dark.
And then he was blown halfway across the room as the back of the lab exploded. He hit hard. His head cracked against the leg of a table. He was dazed for a few minutes, the heat building ferociously from the hall.
If he didn’t get out now, he wouldn’t ever get out. Forcing himself up, he had to wait for the dizziness to pass. Blood trickled underneath his collar, down his back. The fire would reach the exit in a minute.
He ran—lurched—to the stairs, then pulled himself up, feeling the heat through the soles of his boots. Then cold air hit his face, and he made it those last inches.
He stood, staring down into the fiery pit. Wondering if Tam was dead. Or, worse, if they had taken her.
Leigh, Jo, Release
