
GUARDIAN AGENT
BY
DANA MARTON
I dedicate this story to Jenel Looney, a truly extraordinary person and the best friend anyone could ever wish for.
This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are products of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
GUARDIAN AGENT. Copyright © 2011 by Dana Marton. All rights reserved. Published in the United States of America. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without the written permission of the author.
First Edition: June 2011
Dark waters lapped the century-old palace's foundation, eager to claim the forgotten building on one of Venice's backstreet canals. At four on the February morning, tourists still partied on in the distance, drunk on love, youth and full-bodied Italian wine. Gabe Cannon could hear both the water and the faint beat of the music, but he couldn't hear the half dozen men in the building with him. His new commando team spread out like ghosts moving through the night.
"Target on the roof," the team leader's voice whispered in his earpiece.
He stole up the crumbling stairs, ready for the rogue soldier who needed to be brought in before he caused more damage. He'd known Jake Tekla ten years ago in the army--a decent guy back then, but war could change a person, could even twist a man's mind.
Static hissed in his earpiece before the words, "Kill order authorized. Repeat, authorized to shoot on sight."
His instincts prickled. Standard procedure called for an attempt to capture first, and see what information they could gain during interrogation. Usable intelligence trumped a quick kill, every time. Then again, he worked for a private security firm now: XO-ST. Xtreme Ops Shadow Teams. They did things differently than his previous employers, the army and the FBI.
Gabe reached the roof. Plywood patches formed a psychedelic pattern in the moonlight---an unexpected break. Not having to sneak around on crumbling Mediterranean roof tiles would make this much easier. He stole forward and eased into the cover of a crooked chimney stack.
He caught a silent shadow at the door he'd come through--Troy, one of his teammates, joining him. Odd how Gabe had been last into the building, but first on the roof. Maybe the others had pulled back on purpose, testing the new guy. Another person might have been annoyed, but he'd expected this much. He wasn't afraid of having to earn his stripes.
Dormers, chimneys and ridges blocked visibility. Clouds kept drifting over the moon. Scan. Move forward. Take cover. A night game of hide and seek in a labyrinth, with a fair chance that the ramshackle roof could open up under his feet any minute.
Then he stole around a dormer and spotted the target at last. Jake Tekla blended into the night in black fatigues, similar to Gabe's, black ski mask in place. A lot slighter than Gabe remembered. Looked like being on the run had taken its toll on him. The man crept toward the edge of the roof, his focus on the jump he was considering.
No visible weapons.
Yet another thing that didn't add up. Not for a government-trained, seasoned soldier.
Gabe inched closer, watching for a trap. He flicked the safety off his gun. Come on. Turn. He moved another step closer then stopped with his feet apart, gun raised, silencer in place.
His target sensed him at last and spun around.
Oh, hell.
Gabe caught the curve of a breast in the moonlight, and his finger froze on the trigger as he stared at the woman.
She could be a trap--Tekla's accomplice or a decoy.
He had a kill order.
Most of the men he worked with squeezed the trigger each and every time, preferring to err on the safe side. He'd been like that once. A muscle jumped in his cheek. He pushed the North Village incident from his mind.
The woman stared at him for a startled moment, then her instincts kicked in and she ran. Or tried. He lunged after her, caught up in three leaps and brought her down hard. She was lean, yet soft, every inch unmistakably feminine. But none of that feminine softness showed in her fighting spirit. She shoved against him with all she had. She had to know she was conquered, yet she refused to yield, stirring some of his base instincts.
"Stop," he hissed the single word into her ear as he did his best to subdue her.
Plywood gave an ominous creak on the other side of the ridge, the team moving into position to cover the roof and inspect all its nooks and crannies. Something stopped Gabe from calling out even as the woman did her best to scratch his eyes out, fighting in silence. Enough small things about this op had triggered alarms in his mind for him to want to see what he had here before he called the rest of the team in.
He patted her down one-handed, although if she had a knife she would have probably used it on him by now. He kept his voice low. "Did Tekla send you?"
She tried to buck him off. He managed to hold her down with one hand and ripped her black mask off with the other. Wavy dark hair tumbled free, eyes going wide with panic even as her full lips snarled. Despite the semidarkness, he couldn't miss her beauty, or the fact that she had Tekla's eyes and nose.
"Who are you?" he asked, even as the answer was already forming in his mind.
The man had two sisters, the younger one a teenager and the other somewhat older. The one under Gabe now was all woman and then some. Definitely not the teenage sister. He'd met both once at the airport when Tekla and he had gone home on a short leave over Christmas, back in their army days. They didn't have parents, he remembered suddenly. Tekla had enlisted so he could support what was left of his family.
What in hell was his sister doing on the roof? No way his team's intel could be so bad on an op like this. They weren't fighting in the chaos of some distant battle field. The target's sisters were supposed to be living with a distant aunt in Arkansas, according to the op files.
His mind ran all the options as he pressed her down a little harder to keep her still. He wanted to believe that Brent Foley, the team leader, hadn't known who she was when he'd given the kill order, but being naïve didn't pay in this business.
But if Brent did know... Eliminating one of Tekla's sisters might push the guy over the edge, bring him out into the open as he came in for revenge. XO-ST's small army for hire consisted of ex-soldiers and exagents, conducting outsourced ops for the U.S. government and anyone else who could meet their price. Brent wrote the book on how to reach goals by whatever means necessary.
Except, Gabe hadn't signed on to kill innocent women, no matter how badly he needed the money. He motioned to her to stay down and stay quiet, then eased his body off her a little so she could breathe.
"Is he here?" he whispered.
After another spirited minute of resistance, her muscles went slack and she lay there, breathing hard, despair filling her eyes. She shook her head.
He pulled up all the way. Her gaze slid to his gun, and she swallowed, her body stiffening. Fear came onto her face, that wide-eyed look of people who know they are about to die. She didn't beg, nor did she offer her brother's life for her own. She simply met Gabe's gaze and lifted her chin.
She still looked impossibly young, although he figured she had to be around twenty-six or twenty-seven by now. Her slim body might have looked fragile next to his, but her eyes shone with defiance. Which wouldn't be enough, not with a kill order in place and a team of mercenaries spread out around them.
"I'll come back." He secured her with a plastic cuff to the iron scroll that decorated the roof's edge, with one smooth move.
He switched on his mouthpiece as he turned from her, ignoring her silent struggle. "Target escaped the roof. East end."
He ran along the edge toward the other side where a six-foot gap separated the old palace from the next building. Dark shapes materialized from the shadows. He jumped without giving the steep drop below him much thought. As expected, his clear purpose and energy drew the rest of the team behind him.
He dashed forward as if he could see a man's disappearing back somewhere up ahead. He didn't slow for twenty minutes and several rooftops later. Then he braced against the edge of the roof as he stared down onto a dark, abandoned bridge below him. "Lost visual contact."
A four-letter word came through his headset, then, "Did he look hurt?"
"No."
"I could have sworn I clipped him before we lost him last week." A moment of silence. "Spread out."
As the team scattered, Gabe made his way back to the old palace, trying to think of the woman's name, not expecting much after ten years, surprised when it did pop into his brain: Jasmine.
She was going to take him to Tekla. He would bring the man in himself, making sure she didn't get hurt in the process. Things could get out of hand when a cornered person was confronted with an entire commando team. For all he knew, the other sister was here, too. His jaw muscles tightened. He had no respect for a man who would use his sisters as a shield. Gabe vaulted from roof to roof, watching out for crumbling edges.
If he could complete the mission without bloodshed, he wanted to give it a try. Maybe saving a few lives, after having taken so many, would even the scales a little.
Except, he found the palace roof empty.
He stared at the sawed through plastic cuff next to a shattered roof tile and its sharp shards. He should have thought of that, dammit. Anger coursed through him as he moved to look over the edge, not seeing her anywhere below.
A few hardy tourists strolled the sidewalks, out doing the whole 'Venice by starlight' thing. He considered going down among them, even as he knew it would be futile. She could be anywhere by now. Closer to the city center, St. Mark's Square and the areas around the major hotels, would be even busier. A lot of visitors had arrived already for the famous Carnival that would start next week. They enjoyed taking their fancy costumes out for a test drive. He would never find her tonight.
He'd underestimated her. She wouldn't be easily defeated. Of course, she was trying to protect her brother, which he could respect. But he was going to bring Tekla in.
He needed the money badly. Lives depended on it.
Jasmine hurried along the Grand Canal, dodging a group of die-hard revelers, glancing back over her shoulder for the hundredth time. She couldn't see Gabe Cannon anywhere.
Her teenage fantasy man was hunting her brother. She sure hadn't seen that coming. Freaking surreal.
He looked just as good as when she'd first met him at that airport and had fallen instantly in love while they'd all gone out for pizza. One of those unavoidable pitfalls of life, really. He'd been more handsome than any of her pop idols, and her teenage emotions had been just begging for an outlet. She cringed in embarrassment when she thought of all the melodramatic drivel she'd written about him in her diary in high school.
His dark hair was a little longer now and his face had developed a few more hard edges, but the sight of him could still knock the air from her lungs. He probably didn't even recognize her. Last time he'd seen her, she'd been a gangly teenager with braces.
"Permesso." Jasmine moved around an older woman who held half-dozen poodles on leashes, barely registering the dogs, her mind on other things.
Gabe Cannon could have killed her on that roof.
She reached the next bridge and touched the wing of the carved angel on the right post in a silent prayer, as she did every time she passed through here. She needed a guardian angel and badly. And maybe she had one. Maybe he'd been looking out for her tonight.
That Gabe hadn't handed her over to his team was nothing short of a miracle. She'd broken free, thanks to some quick thinking. "You are never unarmed," her brother had taught her shortly after they'd gone on the run. "Everything around you can be used either as a tool or a weapon."
Of course, could be Gabe had meant for her to escape. Maybe he thought he could follow her from a distance. Good luck with that. She'd become a master of evasion in the last few weeks, learned every island, every canal in the city. With her twists and turns and doubling back, she was confident that she'd shaken him.
One final test, then she could go home and get some sleep.
The canal glistened darkly in the moonlight, leading to the harbor a few blocks ahead where U.S. Congressman Richard Wharton's whale of a yacht bobbed on the waves, overshadowing the smaller vessels around it. She didn't go that far, just past the hideously expensive gondolas and the only slightly better water taxis to catch a vaporetto. The water buses, used by locals, were the least expensive way to get around in Venice.
A half-asleep teenager asked her something in the local language as she stepped on board.
"I speak very little Italian. Sorry," Jasmine told her.
The girl turned from her and asked another person.
Jasmine went to stand in the back. She never sat. She preferred to be on her feet, ready to leap and run at short notice. Or leap and swim. Hopefully, not tonight. She didn't like the look of the cold, dark water.
She inspected every person on board from her vantage point. No sign of Gabe.
"Bella Signora, you're an American, si?" A young man in his twenties sidled up to her with an exaggerated smile and an I-want-to-ravish-you look.
She ignored him.
"Antonio show you real good time. I'm very special for ladies. Very confidential. Two hundred American dollars. All night," he added with wide-eyed enthusiasm.
If the situation wasn't so sad, it would have been funny. Since... the incident... she couldn't stand the thought of a man touching her.
"No thanks."
"Are you sure?" He dragged out the last word, probably thinking she just needed encouragement. But when he touched her arm and she flinched, jerking away from him on reflex, he finally got that she meant what she said and moved away from her, looking for another potential customer.
She got off at the last stop, Soremo, an out-of-the-way island that once had been famous for its salt warehouses. The giant storage rooms had been cut up into small flats at one point, now housing teachers, shop assistants and blue-collar workers--people too busy cranking out a living to pay her much attention.
She slipped through a broken window in the back of an abandoned building and listened. Heard nothing but the water and rats scurrying in the far corners. She moved to the top floor, careful of the rotting stairs. Between the saltwater and the sea winds, anything not paid attention to quickly deteriorated here.
"It's me," she called out when she reached the door in the very back. And as she opened it, she could see Mandy lowering the only gun they had left.
"Did you bring food?" The seventeen year old looked her over with sleepy eyes.
"I do what I promise." Jasmine reached into her shirt and pulled a Panini then the small bunch of bananas she'd snatched while weaving through the streets. She gave a third to Mandy before she went to check on her brother.
"I got antibiotics." She presented the small Ziploc bag that held half a dozen white pills.
"What did you sell for it?" Not even the several days' growth of beard could hide Jake's sunk-in cheeks.
"Nothing." She'd stolen those earlier in the day.
Back when her life had been normal, she used to think the line between right and wrong stood pretty clear, the whole black and white thing. These days she lived in gray, moving toward darker and darker tones every day. If she hadn't sold Jake's backup gun for food weeks ago, she might have shot Gabe on the roof before she recognized him.
She wasn't comfortable with that thought, but she couldn't afford to be caught. Mandy and Jake needed her to take care of things until Jake recovered.
"You have to take Mandy and leave," he said under his breath after he swallowed one of the pills. "It's not safe for you here."
Her muscles stiffened. "It's not safe for us anywhere."
A moment of dark silence passed between them, filled with her nightmarish memories.
Guilt made Jake's face look even gaunter. "I never meant for you to get hurt. But this place isn't any better. I should have taken you someplace else. I can't protect you like this."
He'd taken a bullet the week before. She'd removed the slug with a pair of knitting needles she'd lifted off an old lady at a cafe, but the wound was getting badly infected, immobilizing the whole leg and bringing on fever. That he also had a broken arm from a nasty fall didn't help.
"We're not going anywhere without you," Mandy said around the food in her mouth. Then coughed.
She'd been coughing last night, too. Jasmine shot her a questioning look.
Mandy shrugged. "I think I'm allergic to mold. Or rat poop."
They had plenty of both.
"Are the men still in the city?" Jake asked in a casual tone, shifting on his folded cardboard box bed, keeping his right arm out, careful with the makeshift cast.
Jasmine went back to the stained, ancient mattress she'd salvaged from a dumpster and sat next to her sister, pulling the blanket higher around Mandy's shoulders. The temperature wasn't bad for February---low fifties since the sea tempered the city's climate---but they were far from comfortable without heat.
Sometimes, on moonless nights when nobody would see smoke coming from the window, they burned garbage in a steel barrel that stood next to the last window in the back. Mostly they relied on the sun to warm up the south-facing room during the day, and the thick brick walls to radiate that heat back overnight.
"They were out hunting tonight. I tried to lead them away." Doing her best to impersonate her brother. "At least to the mainland." To the airport in Mestre.
She'd wanted them to think that Jake had gotten on a plane, but they'd caught up with her at the old palace. "Gabe Cannon is with them now."
Jake sat up, his forehead wrinkling as he considered the news. After a long minute, he shook his head. "Don't go anywhere near him. We can't afford to trust anyone at this stage. If they caught you--"
She couldn't bring herself to confess that Gabe already had. A miracle that the night hadn't turned out worse.
About twenty mercenaries hunted them, organized into two teams. One searched the city, the other secured the railroad bridge and Ponte della Liberta, the five kilometers long Liberty Bridge that connected Venice to the mainland for car and bus traffic.
Jasmine swallowed her food without tasting it. She needed to find a way to outsmart those men, and she needed to find it quickly. Today's plan had failed. She would have to come up with something better for tomorrow.
Jake finished his meager ration and hobbled over to a window, looked out into the night. Mandy slid down onto the mattress. Normally, she had the most energy among the three of them. And the biggest mouth. But not tonight.
Jasmine reached out to feel her forehead, then squeezed her eyes shut for a second, a sense of hopelessness washing over her. "You're burning up with fever."
"I'll be fine by morning."
"Why didn't you say anything?" Jake's knuckles turned white, he gripped the windowsill so tight. Didn't take a psychic to figure out that he blamed himself for putting them into this situation.
"I didn't want to be any trouble," Mandy said with a small voice.
The sight of her vivacious, chirpy little sister being beaten down like this just about killed Jasmine.
Jake hobbled over to them and sat on the corner of the mattress. Although he would never say it, his leg couldn't support him longer than a few minutes at a time. He pulled the Ziploc bag from his pocket and passed a pill to Mandy who raised her head and swallowed it obediently.
They both needed so much more than that. Real medical care, preferably a hospital, the sooner the better.
Jake lay down and gathered Mandy to him, his own teeth chattering, his face drawn. And as she looked at them, Jasmine had to accept at last that he wasn't going to get better any day now and take charge again. He wasn't going to lead them out of here to safety.
She had to do it.
Gabe Cannon's blue eyes flashed into her mind, the way they'd turned silver in the moonlight. They stood out in contrast to his dark lashes and dark hair, a spellbinding combination of coloring that had wreaked havoc with her teenage heart. Thank God, she was a lot more mature now. She wasn't going to let him bamboozle her this time.
She shoved the last of her food into her mouth and slipped her flashlight back into her pocket as she stood, knowing that what she was about to do would either save them or bury them.
Jake frowned. "Where are you going?"
Better that he didn't know. He might try to stop her. "You both need something for that fever."
Her brother held her gaze for a long moment. "Be careful."
"Take the gun," Mandy offered from under the blanket.
"You keep it. Anyone else but me comes through this door, you shoot. Okay?" She hated putting that kind of burden on her sister, but she could find no other way to make sure they were safe. Jake could barely move his right arm, let alone aim a gun with it. She gave them her most confident smile before she slipped away.
At one point, out of sheer desperation, she'd tracked the men who hunted her brother to the pensione they rented on the main island. She'd wanted to know what kind of enemy she faced. She'd gotten the answer to that: overwhelming.
She had promised herself she would stay away from the place.
Of course, back then she hadn't known that one of the hunters was Gabe.
Gabe kept his eyes on his laptop, giving no sign that he'd noticed the woman who'd been observing him through his window for the last ten minutes. Jasmine.
Brent should have listened to him when he'd recommended setting up perimeter security. But the team leader was too arrogant to think that anyone could ever turn the tables on him.
He made a show of yawning and stretching. His gun hid in the desk drawer. She would have seen if he tried to retrieve the weapon, so he simply turned the key with a slight motion then palmed it. At least now he knew she wouldn't be able to get to it while he left the room in the hopes of luring her in.
He scratched his chest, stood and headed for the bathroom. Going to the window would have scared her off, and his goal was to make her feel as secure as possible. Maybe Tekla was ready to turn himself in and sent her as a messenger.
He closed the bathroom door behind him, waited two minutes then flushed the toilet. She would be pushing the window open, using the noise he made to mask any possible creaking. After a few more seconds, he turned on the tap. She would use that to move into the room, knowing he'd turn the tap off when he was done, giving her warning before he came out of the bathroom.
He left the water running and put his hand on the doorknob. Then he slammed the door open and burst forward.
He registered the empty room a split second before she dropped on him from the storage shelf above the bathroom door, nearly knocking him off his feet.
"Hey. Stop that." He tried to twist to get hold of her, but his temple caught her sharp elbow and he saw stars. He staggered toward the bed and flipped her down at last, but she managed to hook her leg behind his neck and he ended up on the bottom somehow, with her sitting on his chest.
Her wild, shoulder-length waves framed cheeks pink from effort, her chest heaving as she leaned forward to pin his hands next to his head on each side. She ended up with her fine breasts inches from his lips.
He could have subdued her in two moves, but he liked her on top of him. She might be more likely to answer his questions if she thought she was in control of the situation. If their position sent some heat zinging through him, she didn't need to know about it.
He relaxed his muscles and gave her a thorough once over now that he had her in a lit room and could fully see her. The barely disguised triumph in her eyes, the color of aged Bourbon, amused him.
"Anything I can help you with, Jasmine?"
She looked nothing like the gangly teenager he'd met ten years ago. She had filled out in all the right places and turned into a beautiful woman. A woman who reminded him that he'd been lonely way too long. He would have given a lot right now if she weren't related to his mission and came to him simply to spend the night with him.
She pulled back enough so she could search his face. "Why are you chasing Jake? He was your friend once."
Oh, hell, nothing in life was ever simple. "My friends don't turn rogue."
"He was framed." She spoke with full-conviction, her eyes flashing.
"Your brother killed three men. One of them was a U.S Army officer."
Her generous lips narrowed to a thin line. "You don't know the circumstances."
She had gumption, passion and loyalty in spades. He felt a twinge of respect---a twinge of something else, too, but he was going to ignore that. "So what changed between the roof and now? Why run away if you were just going to come back to me?"
"Now I have the upper hand." She allowed a small smile.
He watched her for a second. "And you think that since I knew your brother at one point, and because I didn't turn you over to the others on the roof, I am the weak link on the team."
She stayed silent, apparently smart enough to know that insulting him wouldn't gain her any favors.
"Does your brother always send you to fight his battles?"
"He doesn't know I'm here." She hesitated for a moment before she went on. "He was set up. He knows something and people want to kill him for it."
"Let me guess, he discovered a vast conspiracy." He didn't bother to keep the skepticism from his voice.
Annoyance tightened her kissable mouth again. "I don't know what he discovered. All I know is that he discovered it in Lahedeh. He thinks the less I know the safer I am."
"Maybe he'd tell me?" he suggested, ready to finish this mission and be back stateside to help his sister for a while with his nieces before the team was given their next assignment. They'd been tracking Tekla all over the continent for an eternity, but they should be done soon now that they had the man trapped in Venice.
"He's not anywhere around here."
"Right. Then why did you do your mama-bird-trying-to-draw-the-snake-from-the-nest imitation and lead us across town tonight?"
Her chin came up. She did have a cute chin. Also very kissable.
He forced his gaze up to her eyes. What in hell was wrong with him? "So what is it, exactly, that you want from me, Jasmine?"
"Distract those idiots you work with so I can get away from Venice and find a safer place."
"You mean you and your brother?"
She held his gaze, her expression giving nothing away.
"He shouldn't have dragged you into all this." An unpardonable act of selfishness as far as he was concerned.
"You don't know what you're talking about."
He gave her a smile to throw her off balance then flipped her, reversing their positions, surprised by the surge of need he couldn't even acknowledge let alone act on. "I know you're not going anywhere until you tell me where he is."
Once Tekla was in custody, the pressure would be off her and she would be safe. Not that she showed any appreciation for him looking out for her.
She fought their change of position, stilling only when someone rapped on the door. Her cheeks were flushed, her eyes wide with alarm, the tip of her tongue darting out in a nervous gesture to moisten her lips.
He stifled a groan.
"Brent wants to see everyone in his room," Troy said outside.
Gabe watched a string of emotions flicker across Jasmine's face. Here came a moment of decision for him, and she knew it. He could turn her over to the others, and they could use her as bait to draw Tekla here. If it weren't for that kill order, he would have.
But Brent had pulled out all stops for this op, maybe because he was ready to go home, or because he was starting to lose face over Tekla's ability to evade him this long. He seemed ready to end the op by whatever means necessary, a decision that didn't sit well with Gabe. Whatever her brother had done, Jasmine wasn't guilty.
"On my way," he called out to Troy.
"Let me go." Jasmine resumed her struggling as soon as the man's footsteps had faded in the hallway.
Gabe only considered the request for a second. He wasn't going to lose her again. He needed her to take him to Tekla. Bringing Tekla in seemed the only solution. A peaceful handover would ensure that the man lived long enough to stand trial for his crimes. Once he was in custody, the pressure would be off his family and they would be safe. And with their mission accomplished, Gabe's team could go home to the U.S. and collect their payment.
The chase needed to end before someone innocent got injured. And for that, he needed Jasmine's cooperation. But to get that, he needed more time with her. For now, restraining her without hurting her was the key.
Of course, she fought him every step of the way once she realized what he was trying to do. He could barely get his belt off to tie her right hand to the headboard. Then he grabbed a curtain tieback and secured her other hand with that.
She kicked at him, her shoe connecting with his solar plexus and knocking the air from his lungs.
He scowled at her. "I wouldn't do that again."
She kicked lower this time, her foot slamming into him way too close to a place it had no business being.
"That's it." Two more curtain ties and her feet were tied, too, each to a bedpost.
Fury burned in her eyes then desperation as she struggled against her restraints more and more violently. She didn't seem to be aware that she was scraping her wrists raw.
"Stop that." He bent to hold her still, to snap her out of her frenzy. "I'm not going to hurt you."
But she didn't seem able to stop. Panic had pushed her beyond reason. He swore under his breath. She wasn't a trained soldier, conditioned to conquer her fear in a situation like this. But he couldn't let her go. She would flee the second he left.
And if one of the others caught her...
They would catch her. Right here, in another minute, if she didn't keep quiet.
"Just hang on for a second." He grabbed for the duffle bag at the foot of the bed and rummaged through it for his emergency kit.
"This is going to help you calm down." He pulled the syringe of sedative and popped the cap, pushed the drug into her arm in the same motion. He tried to control the dosage. The full phial was calibrated for a large-built man, a fighter who might be twice her weight. "Stay still."
But she was beyond following orders. She swore at him violently and jerked forward, causing him to push in more of the drug than he'd intended. Dammit.
Boots scuffed outside.
"You'll be safe here. I'll lock you in," he told her as he headed for the door.
Her eyes flashed with fury. "My brother is going to kill you for this."
Ten of the twenty-person team were in Brent's suite, battle-hardened soldiers perching on every available surface. The team leader had them divided from the beginning: Team A searching the islands, Team B guarding all avenues of exit, making sure Tekla didn't slip through and sneak away to the mainland.
Gabe listened to Brent's briefing, his mind only half on the meeting, the other half wondering if Jasmine was all right back in his room.
"Got a call from my local cop. They've been having a wave of unusual petty crime lately. Not the souvenir-filching tourists, which they're used to." Brent opened his laptop and read aloud the list of dates, locations and items. Food, water, a blanket from one balcony, shampoo stolen from an open bathroom window. The list kept going.
A couple of the men snorted when Brent got to knitting needles.
He ignored them and went on. "I had my guy look at security camera footage. One woman seems to have been around most of these locations at about the right time. He sent me a headshot. Looks like the photo we have of Tekla's older sister." He didn't sound the least surprised.
"Did you know she might be here?" Gabe asked with all the nonchalance he possessed.
"I had a suspicion." Brent watched him carefully. "I sent some friends to that aunt's house in Kansas. They found nobody there. Not even the aunt."
And when was that, Gabe wanted to ask, but didn't want to seem suspiciously interested.
Oh, hell. A sudden chill ran down his spine. What if they were all here? Three women in the middle of all this. A sure recipe for disaster. He would have liked to grab Tekla by the shoulders and shake sense into the man. What was he thinking putting his family at risk like this?
"So how do we know Soremo is the right island?" Troy asked, not unreasonably. One hundred seventeen small islands made up the city of Venice.
"Got security camera footage of the woman hopping on the water busses when she's done scavenging on the main island, but no pictures of her getting off anywhere."
"Maybe she swims," one of the guys suggested as a joke.
"She gets off at a station that doesn't have a security camera," Gabe said.
That earned him a look of approval from the boss. "Exactly. Away from the tourist center. She's hiding somewhere in a residential district. We find her, we find her brother."
"There are other residential islands besides Soremo."
"The water buses she takes when she disappears all have their final stop here." Brent stabbed his index finger at the map spread on the desk, at the red X he'd drawn earlier.
"We've been out all night. Nobody got more than a wink of sleep." Gabe scrambled to think of an excuse to hold them back. If his suspicions were right and Tekla's other sister and his aunt were with him... They didn't deserve to become casualties.
To his relief, Brent nodded. "People are getting up and getting ready for work right now. We'll wait an hour. By then, most of them will be gone and the houses will be empty."
He looked at his men before he continued. "The B Team will be at the showdown with us. I don't want to leave anything to chance on this one. Be ready at oh seven thirty. Better get some sleep until then. I want everyone ready for this." He paused. "Tekla is considered armed and dangerous. You're authorized to use whatever force necessary."
Gabe shifted in his seat. "What about the sister?"
Brent shrugged. "She needs to stay out of the way if she knows what's good for her. We're facing a seasoned killer here." He swept his gaze around the room. "If she tries to help him and gets caught in the crossfire, I don't think we'll be catching much flak over it."
Brent's need to catch Tekla seemed a little too over the top, he pulled out too many stops. If he had a personal agenda, Gabe sure would have liked to know what it was.
He stood aside and let the others pour out into the hallway, trying to figure out how he could convince Jasmine to trust him and take him back to Tekla, how to convince Tekla to give himself up so his family wouldn't get hurt.
"We'll have him today," he told Brent, buying time until the others cleared out of the hallway. He didn't want them to catch a glimpse of Jasmine on his bed when he opened his door. "We could be shipping out of here by tomorrow. Not that being in Venice is a hardship. I was expecting battlefield combat when I signed up."
Brent gave him a dispassionate look. "We've seen plenty of battlefield action. I'm sure we'll see more. We take each assignment as they come."
"Afghanistan or Iraq?"
Gabe had done three consecutive tours of duty in the Afghan mountains before he'd joined the FBI. Brent knew all of that. They'd done a comprehensive background check before they hired him. Gabe, on the other hand, had been told very little about the team's previous missions.
"Both," Brent said now.
"Army?"
"Started out as an army medic, but switched to private security pretty quickly. Pays a hell of a lot better than the government."
Gabe understood only too well. When his brother-in-law had died in a crash, leaving his sister with three kids, he got out of the army and in with the FBI so he'd be close enough to help. Then Penny, his youngest niece, had been diagnosed with autism. Promising treatment was available, but cost the heavens. His sister had never stood a chance on her librarian's salary.
All his money had been going to North Village already, and he couldn't abandon that project. Brent had come around, wanting to recruit him, at the exact right time.
Gabe left the man and stepped out into the hallway.
Troy stood bent over in front of his door, wiggling the key in the lock. "Wonder if people here ever heard of WD-40."
He was the only other ex-FBI guy on the team, a pretty decent man. Scars from an explosion crisscrossed his face.
"So how do you like it so far?" His voice sounded raspy, his vocal cords having been damaged in the same explosion.
"Not a big fan of making war on civilians. I think Brent should rethink a couple of things," Gabe told him.
"This is the first op I've been on with the team where we have an American target. Given a choice, I prefer fighting foreign terrorists."
Gabe nodded. "I'm looking forward to this op being over." Hurry up, buddy. The man stood right in line with his door and would get a full view of Jasmine if Gabe opened it.
"Anyone waiting for you back home?"
He shook his head, pretty sure Troy meant a girlfriend and not his sister and nieces. He'd never done well with long term relationships. "How do you expect someone to put up with what we do? Right?"
"Takes a special woman," Troy told him, sadness creeping into his voice. "One in a million." His key turned at last and he disappeared into his room.
Gabe unlocked his own door and pushed inside, strode straight to the bed where Jasmine was sleeping like this was the last chance she was ever going to get. She had the thickest, longest lashes he'd ever seen, flawless skin and lips that were sure to come back in his dreams. But now was not the time to sit and appreciate her beauty.
"Jasmine." He bent low to whisper. "Wake up. We have to get going."
Her eyes fluttered, but didn't open all the way.
He shook her gently.
She didn't even stir.
"Jasmine?" He pulled her into a sitting position. "You have to take me to Jake. Is your sister with him?"
She blinked one eye open.
Awake at last. He let her go.
She fell back onto the sheets.
He pulled her up again. "You have to wake up. Brent knows where your brother is."
"You drugged me." She tried to punch him in the face, but missed and fell into his arms. Pulled back. "Help me to the bathroom. I need to splash some cold water on my face."
He dragged her over to the sink and leaned her against it, turned on the tap then went back to his desk. Finding out whether Brent was involved in something questionable wouldn't hurt.
Gabe's hand fisted. He made a point to relax it.
He'd just started with XO-ST. One of the smallest private security firms out there, they only had two dozen teams, each working separately under the supervision of someone like Brent on whatever contract came their way. Not easy work, but Gabe could do what they needed. He was good at this. And he needed the money.
He opened his laptop and typed in a URL, then his password when the small window appeared in the middle of his screen. The site that popped up held his digital tool chest from his FBI days. He downloaded one of the programs and, with its help, his screen was duplicating Brent's in another minute.
He could see everything the man was doing. He could also take control and open files on his own, but Brent would see that. The mouse pointer would freeze on the screen while his laptop took Gabe's commands. So Gabe simply watched.
And saw nothing terribly helpful. The man surfed porn sites for a few minutes before turning the Internet off. Then the screen stopped changing.
Maybe he went to sleep to rest up for the takeover. Or was taking a shower. Or just gone to the bathroom. What were the chances that he was sitting in front of the laptop, staring at the blank screen?
Gabe took control and opened the file directory. Not as useful as he had hoped. Instead of names, the files were simply numbered. Not much he could guess from that. The first held nothing but dates, another listing a long string of numbers. The next held a detailed satellite map of a small village, showing every street, every house. The name on the bottom was written in Arabic, but he could piece it together after a minute. Lahedeh. Afghanistan.
"I don't know what Jake discovered. All I know is that he discovered it in Lahedeh," Jasmine had told him earlier.
A cold feeling spread in his stomach. He cut the link. Couldn't risk keeping it open too long and getting caught.
Lahedeh could be the connection between Brent and Tekla.
Or it could be a coincidence.
He needed to find out what was going on, because like it or not, he was up to his neck in this mess now. He glanced at his watch as he pushed to his feet.
"Ready?" He stepped to the bathroom door and pushed it open.
Jasmine sat on the closed toilet lid, sleeping, her head resting on the edge of the sink. She looked incredibly young and utterly worn out. But he couldn't give her a break. They needed to leave.
He turned off the tap, then pulled her up. "Is your sister in Venice? Is she with your brother?"
She opened her eyes. "No." Swayed a little.
"This is not a good time to play games with me. Are your sister and your aunt here?"
She pressed her lips closed.
Which probably meant, yes. He didn't know much about the aunt, but Tekla's younger sister would be about high school age. A kid.
Jasmine collapsed softly against him and went back to sleep.
Dammit. Of course, he only had himself to blame.
He scooped her up and stuck her in the shower, turned on the water. Her eyes popped open as she sputtered, fighting to get out while he tried to keep her in, a task about as easy as bathing a cat. And as hazardous to your health.
He let her out when she looked like she was fully awake and when he thought he might lose an eye if he didn't.
"Jasmine? Jasmine, honey." He tried to make nice. "Where is your brother hiding?"
She was awake, but uncooperative. She simply glared at him. She didn't look ready to forgive the tying down and the drugging. Or the forced waking.
Fine. He could get started without her. They were going to Soremo. And between here and there, he would get her talking.
Despite his best efforts, she slept through the vaporetto ride, curled against him. At least she'd stayed awake earlier long enough to take off her own soggy bra and panties and put on the pair of boxer shorts he'd given her and one of his Tshirts. Then she'd passed out again, leaving the rest to him. Gabe had to tie on the sweatpants with a curtain tie. His sweatshirt just about swallowed her.
He helped her off the waterbus at the last stop.
"Left or right?" he asked, turning her face toward the cool breeze that came off the water.
She opened her eyes and looked around. "Where are we?"
Not exactly progress.
Her knees were folding. He picked her up into his arms. People smiled at them, probably thinking he was being romantic.
"What are you doing?"
"Saving you and your family," he said under his breath, keeping a smile on his face for the onlookers.
"Mandy, has a fever."
The younger sister. "We'll take care of it," he promised.
"How do I know I can trust you?"
"You're just going to have to make up your mind about it, honey. I'm here to help."
"You tied me up and drugged me."
"To keep you safe."
She managed to keep her eyes open long enough to pin him with a sharp look. "How do I know you're not a murderous bastard like the others?"
He said nothing. He would have been lying if he said he wasn't.
She interpreted his silence correctly. "Don't you have a conscience?"
"I do."
She blinked. "Tell me one bad thing you regret doing."
"We're not getting into that right now. We don't have time for this."
"One thing," she demanded.
Fine. Okay. "I once led a team to eradicate a makeshift weapons factory in the Afghan mountains. Small place with an unpronounceable name. We called it North Village. Led the charge, shot the place to hell. We killed most everyone inside this one industrial-looking building. They were classified as enemy combatants in the attack order." He drew a slow breath. "They weren't. The village was starting some grassroots truck part repair business. Most of the men worked there. Now the village is nothing but orphans and widows."
He paused. "So no, I'm not a good person. But I no longer follow orders blindly either. And no more innocent people are going to get killed on my watch if I can help it."
She looked into his eyes for the longest time, doubts and desperation mixing in her Bourbon gaze. Then she nodded to the right. "That way."
The houses they passed were progressively worse and worse. They reached a ramshackle building at last and she insisted on being put down, slipped in through a broken window. He followed her in, the sight of garbage and scurrying rats getting to him for a second. Nobody should have to live in a place like this.
"Up there." She nodded toward a crumbling staircase.
"I'll go. Why don't you stay down here? Rest a little."
"I can handle it."
He did believe that. She'd managed to escape from the roof. And, despite the inherent dangers, she had managed to get his attention and bring him here to help.
"So up the stairs, huh?" He took in the dubious structure with a healthy dose of reservations. "Are you sure?"
She stumbled forward without hesitation, and he followed a few steps behind her, far enough so their combined weight wouldn't bring down the stairs, but close enough so he could catch her if she fell back. She didn't. She reached the top and hurried down a dark hallway.
She stopped in front of the last door. "It's me. I'm bringing someone. Don't shoot."
He went for his weapon but stopped halfway. The sight of a gun might provoke Tekla. Better leave his gun stashed under his shirt, Gabe decided. But he kept his hand ready to draw, not liking the least that Jasmine stood between him and the man inside.
He glanced at his watch. They still had time before Brent would be here with the teams. Time to convince Tekla to send his family home to safety and give himself up, so nobody would have to die today. If he also wanted to tell Gabe what in hell his connection was to Brent, that would be icing on the cake.
"Okay, we're coming in," Jasmine called out her last warning. But when she pushed the door open, they found the cavernous, ramshackle room empty.
Gabe looked closer at a suspicious lump of blanket on the floor among the stacks of wood and plastic crates and other rubble. The blanket rose and fell slightly then rose again as whoever hid under it breathed. Ambush, he thought, and drew his weapon.
At the same time, Tekla stepped from a column to the side, holding a gun in his left hand. A homemade cast covered the right one. His eyes narrow slits, the man leaned his back against the wall behind him, barely resembling the charismatic hotshot he'd once been. His once chiseled cheeks were now sunk in. He looked twenty years older and twenty pounds lighter than the last time they'd met.
And a lot less friendlier. "What's wrong with my sister?"
"I'm fine." Jasmine stepped forward, swaying on her feet, which pretty much undermined her words.
"Where are her clothes?" Tekla demanded, then went on without waiting for an answer. "Come over here and get behind me," he ordered Jasmine. "What did he do to you?"
Her response came after a long, uncomfortable moment of hesitation. "He drugged me a little. It's okay. He's here to help." She rubbed her forehead. "I think," she added.
Way to go with the endorsement.
Tekla had killed three innocent men, Americans. He wouldn't hesitate to shoot now when his family was in danger and he was cornered. The situation had top potential for going real bad real fast, so Gabe held still. No sense in giving provocation if he could help it.
"Brent and his men are coming," Jasmine said with exquisite timing.
Jake swore as he took the safety off his gun.
"I know about Lahedeh," Gabe said the only thing he could think of to defuse the tension.
Tekla froze, a look of surprise replacing the fierce concentration on his face. "You do?"
"I know Brent was there." He bluffed.
"Brent who?"
Oh, hell. Tekla had been to Lahedeh. Brent had been to Lahedeh. That had to be the connection between the two. This op definitely meant something personal to Brent. He wanted Tekla dead too badly. And he didn't care who died with the target. Sometimes he sounded as if he wanted the whole family to be eliminated.
Why?
No way those kinds of orders would come from the U.S. government that was supposedly their client for the op. Not when the target was a U.S. citizen.
Gabe kept steady, wanting the op to be over without getting killed, without having to kill anyone unnecessarily. He scrambled for something to say.
But Tekla spoke first, his eyebrows lifting. "Was Brent the other medic?"
Here we go. Brent had been a medic. "Yes." Gabe gambled.
Tekla looked him over again. "Where do you come in? You weren't there. How did you hook up with him?"
"Left the Army for the FBI two years ago. Brent recruited me from there. I have nothing to do with what went down at Lahedeh."
"You have no idea what went down at Lahedeh." Tekla sneered.
"I might," he bluffed.
"If you did, you'd be dead already. Everyone else is, except me. And I mean to stay alive."
"Nobody has to get hurt. Let me take you in. The government will give you a fair trial."
Tekla gave a short, sour laugh. "I'll never reach any courtroom."
"We're here on a government contract. You killed people. You're AWOL from the army. If you have a good reason for all that, they'll hear you out." He did believe that.
"Can I come out? I can't breathe in here." A plaintive voice asked from under the blanket Gabe had been keeping in his peripheral vision.
"Come out and go into another room with Jasmine," Tekla ordered.
The younger sister peeked from her hiding place, then emerged little by little, hair all mussed and cheeks pink with fever, eyes glassy. Jasmine went to her immediately, feeling her forehead and frowning. "She's in no shape to walk around," she told her brother. "Gabe isn't going to hurt us."
He appreciated the vote of confidence. Scanned the room. "Where is the aunt?"
All he got were funny looks. "The aunt from Arkansas," he clarified.
"Spending the winter with her sister in Florida," Tekla said.
Thank God. The last thing they needed in the middle of this volatile situation was another civilian.
"When are the men coming?" Tekla asked Jasmine.
She shot a questioning look to Gabe.
He glanced at his watch. "About forty minutes." As a gesture of goodwill, he tucked his weapon away. "She needs help." He nodded toward the younger sister.
Jasmine rolled her eyes at him. "Why did you think I came to you?"
"Didn't have a chance to ask, with you trying to scratch my eyes out and all that."
Tekla shot a dark look at Jasmine.
"I can't do this alone, okay?" She pulled a bottle of water from someplace and handed it to her sister before looking back at her brother, her eyes begging. "You need as much help as Mandy does. We can't just hang tough. It's gone beyond that. I can't fix this."
The quiet desperation in her voice touched Gabe's heart. She'd been surviving with no resources, no support, in a foreign country, trying to save her brother and her sister. And the thing was, she'd done it. She'd taken care of them. Evaded an entire commando team. Risked her life, putting everything on the line when she'd come to him.
"I'll help." Hell, that had been a forgone conclusion probably from the moment he'd caught her on the roof and first faced her spirit and courage, first realized that something might be off with the op. "You turn yourself in to me," he told Tekla, "and I'll make sure your sisters will be safe."
"Absolutely not." Jasmine shot to her feet with a look of betrayal on her face. "I brought you here to help my brother escape."
"Your brother made some bad choices. He's going to have to face the music for that, but the rest of you don't have to get hurt."
"You don't understand anything!" she yelled suddenly, wrapping her arms around her slim body. She began to pace, throwing desperate looks at her brother.
"Then tell me what happened." Gabe turned to Tekla. "If there's a rational explanation for what you've done, let's hear it."
"The less you know, the safer you are."
"Like your sisters?" he snapped. "Do you know what a miracle it is that they're still alive? How long are you prepared to gamble with their lives?" Gabe caught himself and toned it down a notch. "If you don't trust Brent and his crew, I got connections I can call on. I can turn you straight over to the U.S. authorities. The FBI, even."
"This thing goes too high. Brent has a backer. Someone in the government."
Gabe considered the possibility and the implications. Brent was one of two dozen team leaders at a fairly small private security company that specialized in overseas missions. The contract to retrieve Jake Tekla had come from the government that couldn't send military force after the man into a sovereign country like Italy. Maybe in the Middle East they could have justified something like that, but certainly not in Europe.
The U.S. government didn't want to get local law enforcement involved, at least that was the way Brent had explained it to Gabe when he'd been hired on. A rogue American soldier, a killer loose wouldn't have inspired much confidence in the U.S. And the Italians were already wary of military presence in their country, especially since the cable car accident a few years back when a U.S. jet flew too low, cutting the cables, sending twenty people plunging to their deaths.
So sending a private outfit after Tekla and keeping the op under wraps had made sense when Brent had first explained it. But, apparently, Brent and Tekla had a shared past in Lahedeh, and it sure looked like Brent had a private agenda where catching Tekla was concerned. What were the chances that his team just happened to get the government contract?
Maybe Brent did have someone somewhere, making sure the contract went his way.
Too many unknown elements. Too much to lose. The op wasn't entirely right, but Tekla wasn't innocent, either. Gabe didn't want the man's family to come to harm, but he drew the line at aiding and abetting a killer.
He looked the guy straight in the eye. "I need to know about those three men you killed."
"How about we step out into the hallway?" her brother asked Gabe.
Jasmine opened her mouth to protest, but Gabe said, "I think your sisters have a right to hear this. I think they should get a vote in what happens."
She gave him a slight smile, her heart softening. She liked that he was treating her and her sister as equals. She liked the way he looked at her, a lot differently than he'd looked at her ten years ago. As if he actually noticed her now. Way too late, but definitely flattering.
Man, she'd been crazy about him. Well, that ship had sailed. She wasn't going back to live on Obsession Lane. She'd embarrassed herself over him enough for a lifetime back in the day. Every email she'd sent to Jake had at least one question about whether he'd seen Gabe again, and if so, how he looked, had he mentioned her.
Thank God, this time around she was a lot more mature and a lot smarter. She was not going to develop any kind of crush on him again. Although, if he managed to save them, she might---just might---forgive him for tying her down and drugging her.
The two men stared at each other.
She knew how difficult it would be for Jake to trust someone after all they've been through. He had a lot of pride. And he'd always shouldered all the responsibility for the family. He hated to ask for help. He always wanted to fix everything alone.
But he also always did the right thing.
"All right." The tight set of his jaw betrayed that he was only doing this because he had no other choice. He lowered himself to sitting and set his gun down at last.
Gabe acknowledged the gesture with a nod. "Let's start with what happened in Lahedeh. What were you and Brent doing there?"
"We were still looking for Osama at that point. My team---Brian, Greg, Eric and I---went down into the water cistern. We found two locals down there with these huge terra cotta jars. They got Brian before we got them, and injured Eric. Greg called in the medics. They were there pretty fast. I knew one, but not the other."
"Brent," Gabe put in, his face clouded.
Jake nodded. "Greg and Brian were pretty tight, from the same town and all that, enlisted together. So Greg was ticked that they killed his buddy. He started pumping more bullets into the dead locals. I told him to knock it off before someone got hit by a ricocheting bullet. So then he starts kicking over the jars. Or tried. They were too heavy. He knocked the lid off one... I've never seen that much gold."
"What gold?" she asked the same time as Gabe did.
"Some warlord's hoard. Worth in the millions."
Her blood pressure spiked. "Our lives were destroyed because of money? That's the big secret you couldn't give up? I thought it had to do with national security. Are you kidding me?"
For the first time in her life, she really, really, wanted to hit something.
"Eric was the team leader. He sealed the jars, told us this was all confidential. Word couldn't get out or we'd have the warlord's private army after us, plus all the locals and treasure hunters. He took charge. Later he told us that the treasure was transported to the National Museum in Kabul."
"Except it wasn't," Gabe put in.
Jake shook his head. "Last day I was in Afghanistan, I had a couple of hours to kill in Kabul and a cute private I wanted to impress. I thought I'd take her to the museum, show her the gold and tell her the part I played. See how far that gets me."
She rolled her eyes. Her brother had a way with women, no doubt about it. He definitely had the Casanova gene, and he wasn't afraid to use it. She hated to see him like this, sick and weak. That he couldn't protect them about killed him, too. He was too used to being the tough guy, a warrior.
"They never heard of the gold." He adjusted his bad leg. "So I tried to call Greg when I got back home. He was dead. Friendly fire." He closed his eyes for a second. "Called the medic I knew. Friendly fire again. Couldn't track down the other guy. Figured it was time to get the hell out of Dodge." He took a slow breath and shot an apologetic look to Jasmine, his eyes filling with regret. "That was a mistake."
\*
Gabe watched as Jasmine wrapped her arms even tighter around herself and stared at a spot in front of her feet, all emotion sliding off her face.
He wanted to know what happened to her after her brother had first gone into hiding, but Mandy had slumped over while they'd been talking, and that worried him. She didn't seem fully aware of her surroundings anymore. They had to take care of Mandy before they could move out of here.
He stepped forward. "We have to bring this girl's fever down."
Jasmine looked at her sister then launched into action, shaking off whatever dark weight had been sitting on her shoulders. "There's a tub in one of the other rooms. We could bring cold water up from downstairs."
"Do you have any buckets?"
She hurried to the corner and pulled two five-gallon paint buckets she probably had picked up at a construction site.
He took those from her. She grabbed a chipped pot from the windowsill and led the way.
He could tell downstairs that the water to the building had been shut off at one point but someone, probably Jake before he'd been injured, had rigged it. He filled the buckets and she filled the pot, then they started up the stairs. The drug seemed to be wearing off. She no longer swayed with every step.
"What happened back in the U.S. before you came here?" He wanted to help, but to do that, he needed to see the full picture.
She wouldn't look at him.
He knew he should let it go, but something deep inside him demanded to know. He followed her into a smaller room and dumped the water into the tub, caught her by the arm as she turned to go back. "Jasmine?"
She avoided his gaze, a haunted look coming onto her face. "When they couldn't find Jake, they came after us to draw him out."
He waited, cold tension gathering in his stomach as he wished he knew what to do for her, what she needed from him. With the work he did, his relationships with women had been always superficial: quick and easy. But he wanted to give something more to this woman, something real, something she could hold on to.
His jaw clenched with frustration. "Jasmine?"
"Mandy had some emergency junior prom planning meeting, so she had to stay after school, thank God. I was home alone." She swallowed hard.
He put the empty buckets down and gathered her into his arms without giving her a chance to resist. "Who?"
"I don't know." Her voice broke. "They took me and kept me tied up in a basement to draw Jake out."
No wonder she'd fought his restraints so violently. If he'd known--- "I'm sorry." He bent to rest his chin on the top of her head.
And, little by little, she relaxed against him.
He wanted to ask what they'd done to her, but he was afraid of hurting her by dragging up the past. So he simply held her until she pulled away.
"Jake came. He got us out of the U.S." She moved toward the door. "We better get Mandy."
He put two and two together halfway down the hallway. "These were the two civilians Jake killed in the U.S.?"
His opinion of the man rose a couple of notches. So there was a good explanation for those kills. Of course, the death of that army captain still remained unexplained.
The empty pot slipped out of her hand, her reflexes probably still not one hundred percent, and she bent to retrieve it. Her top rode up her hips, revealing a strip of skin. Two half-moon-shaped scars peeked out at Gabe.
"Did you get hurt on the roof?" He winced, hoping he hadn't been too rough on her when he'd brought her down.
She yanked on her top to cover the spot. "Old stuff. It doesn't matter."
He stilled. "Did those two men do this to you?"
A grief-stricken expression came onto her face, making him wish he hadn't asked. "Sorry." He was such a damned idiot sometimes. "You don't have to talk about it."
She drew a shaky breath. "I don't. Not even to Jake." She watched him for a second. "But I want you to know what kind of men Brent works with."
The tone of her voice almost made him wish she didn't.
"One of them liked to come down to me while his buddy was sleeping at night. He would pull my shirt up or my pants down..." She swallowed. "He liked to bite me."
Human teeth marks, he recognized the scars now and the gruesome images in his head filled him with fury.
"He got real excited if he drew blood. Sometimes he touched himself." She looked away.
He didn't know what to say. Murderous rage burned through him, impotent rage since he could do nothing about those men at this stage. He wanted to protect her, but he was too late.
He thought of Brent. Maybe not entirely too late.
He wanted to take her into his arms again, but she didn't look like she would welcome anyone's touch just now. So he simply said, "I'm sorry," and they went on with their task of trying to help Mandy.
He carried the girl over to the tub then let Jasmine take it from there. "Call me when you need me to bring her back," he said before he closed the door behind him.
Time to finish his talk with Jake.
"What about the army captain?" was the first question he asked. Jake had killed that man first, before the other two.
"Eric was the captain of the four-man team I went down to the cistern with. Brian, Greg and the one medic were dead. I figured the other medic was, too, but couldn't confirm since I didn't know his name. I figured Eric took the gold and had the others killed. I knew he would come after me, and I knew arranging some friendly fire on the battlefield would be pretty easy for him. So I went AWOL, but left him some leads to follow. I wanted to meet him on my own turf, when I was ready. He came. He didn't want to leave any witnesses."
"So you killed him in self-defense."
Jake nodded. "Meanwhile, my unit shipped back to the U.S. I was heading back home, ready to turn myself in over the AWOL thing, but then Jasmine was kidnapped." His face darkened. "I knew then that the second medic had to be alive and running the show."
"Who were the two bastards Brent sent to grab Jasmine?"
"Hired guns. Brent must have paid them to do his dirty business. I think at the beginning he figured it'd be quick and easy to get me. But I took care of his goons and brought my sisters across the ocean. So Brent stepped up his game, somehow finagling a government contract for his security company to bring me in. That gave him a whole team to order around."
A pretty complicated story, but it all made sense in a certain way. Gabe rubbed his hand over his face. He could no longer get around the fact that he believed Jake. "Do you think his team knows about the gold?"
"I don't think so. Then he'd either have to share with them or kill them for knowing. He's just using them as his private commando team. All they know is that they have orders to bring down a rogue soldier."
Gabe thought for a second. "So back in Lahedeh... The medics had an ambulance, could transport the gold out and stash it somewhere. Then Brent and Eric took out everyone who knew about the gold, except you. Eric failed there, so Brent has to finish the job."
"The way I figure it," Tekla said, "Brent left the army and joined a private security company so he could get back into Afghanistan with less oversight and more freedom to come and go as he pleased. He couldn't exactly bring the gold out in his army duffel bag."
"Right." Gabe agreed. Military personnel were tightly controlled and supervised. "But as team leader for a private firm, Brent could tell his team they were transporting arms seized from the Taliban, or whatever. One sealed crate looks pretty much like another."
Jake nodded. "Getting the gold into the U.S. would be the next obstacle. How do they get it through customs? Maybe that's where the high up in the ranks protector comes in."
Gabe scratched his chin. Sooner or later, they had to figure out who that man was. Otherwise, Jasmine and her family would never be safe.
After the cold bath brought her temperature down, Mandy could stand and walk once again, even if her teeth chattered. Jasmine helped her back into the room where Gabe and Jake were still talking. It did her heart good to see the two of them without holding guns on each other.
Gabe jumped to help as soon as he saw them coming. He seemed to truly care. His being here was helping already. Jake could have never carried Mandy over to the tub with his bad arm and leg, and Jasmine couldn't have done it either. Her little sister was taller than she was and weighed about the same.
But Gabe was here and things were going to turn around. For the first time in a long time, she saw the light at the end of the tunnel.
"Take Mandy and Jasmine. Get them someplace safe. I'll stay here and deal with Brent," Jake told Gabe suddenly.
She gaped for a second, while heat crept up her face. "I'm not going anywhere without you."
As far as she was concerned, they were going to live or die together.
\*
Gabe watched the dynamics between the two with interest.
"How about Colonel Markowsky?" he offered Tekla after careful consideration. "Whoever is involved in whatever is going on, I can't see the colonel being involved in anything shady."
Markowsky had been his colonel, but everyone in the Afghan war theatre knew or knew of the man. He was the toughest son of a bitch there, and the most honest man Gabe had ever met.
Tekla didn't protest.
Progress. Especially since Gabe was sure Jasmine meant what she'd said. She had incredible loyalty to her family. No way was she going to leave her brother. The woman had character. He liked that.
"What if the colonel could get you out of Venice? Out of Italy. You're AWOL from the army. His men could take you into custody. If you explained yourself to him, he could help."
"What about my sisters? The army can't help them."
"If the colonel can get them back to the U.S., I can take it from there." He thought of a good friend who was still with the Bureau. Gordy could get the girls into one of the unused safehouses if Gabe asked. And he would keep quiet about it.
Tekla watched him closely. "I've got your word on that?"
"You do. It's either this or face Brent and the teams when they get here. Which won't be long now." He glanced at his watch. They had about ten minutes left before Brent reached the island. "Even if you can evade them once again, how long do you think Mandy is going to make it without medical care?"
The man looked at his sisters as he struggled to his feet. "All right. Let's do this."
They all looked at each other. Here they were. Last Chance City.
Gabe pulled his phone and identified himself when the colonel picked up on the other end.
"FBI treating you good, soldier? If they aren't, you know we'd welcome you back here. Anytime you want to return to us, just say the word."
He'd saved the colonel's life once from a roadside bomb, his and the lives of four other men in the vehicle, which the colonel never forgot.
"Thank you, sir. I'm not with the Bureau anymore. I work for a private outfit these days. I'm in a situation here, sir."
"Are you in trouble?"
"I'm with people who are in trouble." He thought of Camp Darby, U.S. Army Garrison, at Livorno, a few hours' drive from Venice. The colonel had a reputation for knowing everyone everywhere. "I don't suppose anyone at Livorno owes you any favors, sir?" And then he explained everything.
"I can have a car sent to your location."
"Livorno is a three-hour drive from here, sir. Could you find out if they already have someone out our way?"
The colonel promised to do just that before hanging up. Relief coursed through Gabe. And the news only got better.
"This could help with the colonel." Jake tugged a tattered manila envelope from under his homemade cast.
"What is it?" Jasmine asked, looking as if this was the first time she saw the thing.
"Some documents I've been able to find before we ended up here. It should be enough to get an investigation going."
Gabe reached for it, but his cellphone interrupted. The colonel was calling back.
"A convoy of U.S. troops is on its way to Livorno from the Nato base in Hungary. They'll be passing through near Venice. I'm sending one of the trucks over to Ponte della Liberta. Can you rendezvous with them at oh eight hundred?"
Gabe glanced at his watch. Just enough time to make it. "Yes, sir."
"Help is here." He lunged into action as soon as he hung up, handing the envelope to Mandy, wrapping it up with her in her blanket and picking her up. "You have to help your brother," he told Jasmine. "We have twenty minutes to reach Liberty Bridge."
She tried to prop Tekla up as best she could, but the stairs proved unconquerable on crutches. So after Gabe took care of Mandy, he had to go back up and carry Jake down on his back. At least, Jake could take it from there, so Gabe could go back to carrying Mandy who couldn't move nearly as quickly as they needed to go.
The morning rush just about over, at least they didn't have to fight any crowds. Since they didn't have time to wait for the next vaporetto, Gabe hotwired a motorboat and helped everyone in, hoping to be away before the theft was discovered. He kept an eye out for the owner, and also for the teams. Hopefully, by the time Brent and his men found the hideaway, Jasmine and her siblings would be getting into the back of an army truck, heading away from Venice. Gabe drove toward the bridge, grateful that Team B wouldn't be out there today.
Mandy and her brother huddled under the blanket in the back of the boat, one in worse shape than the other. Gabe stood in the front, steering. Jasmine came up to him.
"So what do you do when you're not ducking commando teams?" he asked. Her maturity, capability and ingenuity had more than impressed him. He tried to picture the life she would be going back to when this was all over, but he couldn't. He knew her heart was in the right place. He knew she was the most remarkable woman he'd ever met. But beyond that, he knew next to nothing about her, and suddenly that seemed intolerable.
"I dabble in SM stuff," she told him.
SM what? He nearly choked on his own saliva. A picture of her in a studded leather choker and thigh high boots popped in to his mind, her slim hand holding a whip. The image nearly knocked him on his behind.
"Social media consulting," she explained.
"Oh." He cleared his throat, his blood pressure slowly returning to normal. "So what happens to your job now that you've been away for so long?"
"I have good people in place." She gave a self-deprecating smile. "Not that I don't worry about them. I check in whenever I can snag some credits at an internet café."
Right. She owned the company.
"You're a good man, Gabe Cannon," she said out of the blue.
"There's a village of orphans and widows in Afghanistan who would beg to differ," he said more to himself than to her.
She tilted her head and watched him for a few seconds. "What are you doing to help them?"
"What makes you think I'm doing anything?"
"Seems to me you're the kind of man who does the right thing if he can."
He gave a sour laugh. "Don't make me into some kind of saint. You'll be disappointed."
"So what are you doing for all those people in North Village?"
She'd paid attention. She even remembered the name of the place. "Trying to refit the truck part factory with sewing machines for the women. A friend of a friend could get them a Fair Trade contract if the factory is operational by the end of spring." They were about halfway there. Except he had no idea how he was going to send money after this. His gig with XO-ST was over.
"You have a lot of friends," she observed.
"Doesn't mean I'm a good man."
"I think you are." She pressed an unexpected kiss to his cheek, then went to the back to sit with her brother and sister.
His skin tingled. He was a thirty-six-year-old hardass commando soldier and his cheek tingled from a kiss. He rubbed his thumb over the spot. Somewhere in the middle of his chest his heart turned over. An unfamiliar feeling. He glanced back at her, and she smiled at him, and his heart turned over again.
Something was going on. He just couldn't put his finger on it. He wasn't sure he liked the feeling. Kind of left him off balance a little.
He maneuvered among the water taxis and gondolas and all the private boats that left the harbor every morning, so focused on what he was doing that he barely heard when Mandy said, "I don't have the envelope."
Jasmine searched the blanket. "Where is it?"
"I don't know. I thought I had it with me."
"I set her down when I went back up for Jake. It might have fallen into the rubble then," Gabe said, knowing that in all that mess, none of them would have seen it.
"We have to go back for it." Jake pushed to his feet. "It's all the proof I have. Without those papers, I'll never be exonerated."
"At least you'll be alive and you--"
Jasmine interrupted. "Drop me here. I'll take another boat back and meet you at the bridge."
They just reached the far edge of the harbor, plenty of small boats unattended.
"As long as you can make it to the rendezvous point in time, you can make them wait for me," she added.
He hated the idea, but didn't have time to argue, no time to come up with a better plan. If they all turned around, whoever was bringing the truck might think they weren't coming and take off without them. "Watch out for Brent and his men."
"They know we were on Soremo, but they don't know which building. I'll be in and out before they get that far with their search."
He sidled over to a pier and let her jump up, then pulled away, not liking the way things were going.
They reached the bridge in another ten minutes, a silver ribbon stretched across the water. Gabe followed along and soon saw the army truck idling on the mainland end, waiting on the shoulder. He got the boat as close as he could, tied it up, then helped Mandy and Jake.
A corporal met them halfway to the truck, a young African-American man. "Gabe Cannon?"
"That's me. Thanks for coming." He didn't introduce the others, wasn't sure how much information the colonel had passed on. The less everyone knew the better.
The man helped support Tekla who walked with a bad limp, favoring his injured leg, while Gabe carried Mandy. They all tried to look as inconspicuous as possible under the circumstances.
"I'm glad you're here on time. We need to leave immediately," the man said.
"We'll have to wait for my other sister," Tekla protested.
"That's a negative, sir. We don't even have official permission to stop here. We only pulled over so one of the men could check a tire that sounded funny. We can't wait around and we can't, under any circumstances, enter the city. We can't engage in any local trouble in any way. We are not to draw attention to ourselves."
They were at the truck. The back opened and two men reached down to help Mandy up.
Tekla searched the water, looking sick and desperate, at the end of his rope. "We have to wait."
While he tried to talk the corporal into breaking orders, Gabe ran back to the water's edge to watch for Jasmine, so he could signal as soon as he spotted her. He was sure the truck wouldn't leave if she was in sight.
But instead of Jasmine, he spotted one of Brent's men on the bridge. Then another. And another.
The B Team.
He hadn't been followed when he'd taken Jasmine back to Soremo, he'd made sure of that. He could think of only one other explanation for them showing up here at the exact wrong moment. He patted his shirt, found nothing. Yet it had to be on him somewhere. Brent had somehow planted a damn tracker on him.
He glanced at the watch the team leader had borrowed a couple of weeks ago to use the stop watch function for a friendly one-handed pushup competition. Gabe ripped the watch from his wrist and tossed it.
They knew exactly where he was. Brent had probably tracked him on his laptop, radioing his movements to the teams. Which meant he would have seen where Gabe had spent the last hour before heading here. Brent had the location of the house. The A Team was probably there right now. With Jasmine.
He ran toward the boat, but a bullet hit the fuel tank and the explosion knocked him off his feet. He could see, as he lay there, dazed, as the corporal jumped into the back of the truck, pulled a protesting Tekla up behind him, then they booked it the hell out of there.
The corporal and his men could take care of Tekla and Mandy. But Jasmine...
All alone against a commando team, battle-hardened men with an authorization to kill. A wall of fear hit him.
Gabe dove into the water and swam as if his life depended on it.
He only had to make it over to the cement pillars that held up the bridge, and climb one. Everybody was watching the burning boat. Since whoever had shot the fuel tank had used a silencer, no shot had been heard. Nobody had any idea what was going on.
Traffic came to a halt, people getting out of their cars to get a better look. Gabe grabbed an abandoned motorbike and flew forward between the lanes of cars.
Glanced back. The B Team didn't follow. They were too busy chasing after Tekla.
Gabe picked up speed, ignoring his wet clothes and the rules of traffic. He had to reach Jasmine before it was too late.
\*
"Come on out. We won't hurt you," one of the men called out one level below her.
They were herding her to the east end of the building from where there would be no escape. She had to reach the staircase to the roof. This end of the building had no exits. No windows either. The place butted up against a warehouse, the back walls solid brick.
Her chances for getting out of here were slim. At least Gabe had her family. He was the type of man who set things right. He would help Jake and Mandy.
God, she wanted to stay alive to see them again. Jake and Mandy. And Gabe. Because, who was she kidding, she was falling back in love with the man all over again.
"Your brother gave himself up. All we want is to take you in safely," came the next lie from below.
Jasmine kept low and ducked between fallen beams, trying to steal around the men. She had to find a way to get out. She couldn't engage them and fight them off. There were nine of them. Her gun only had four bullets. She would save those until the very end.
Which seemed to be suddenly here.
She ducked as a man crept into the room on her right. He scanned the rubble. Hadn't seen her yet. She could only seem him through a gap in old wallpaper that hung from the ceiling in the corner where she hid. He turned slowly, gun trained. Then looked right at her.
She took her shot and ran like hell, knowing the sound would draw the rest of them.
She was looking behind her as much as she looked ahead. Steel arms snaked out from behind a column and caught her.
\*
Gabe heard the gunshot from outside and his pulse quickened. The team would use silencers, so it had to be Jasmine. He found the window she'd brought him through earlier and vaulted right in.
Impulse pushed him to rush to her, but his training held him back. Assess. Plan. Execute. He searched the small area he could see.
No envelope where he'd put Mandy down. Either Jasmine had gotten it or Brent had. He moved on without pausing to search. Jasmine came first.
He stole around a doorway. One man stood at the bottom of the stairs, looking up, watching in case she tried to escape through here. Gabe snuck up on him, shoved his knee in the back of his to bring him down. A hard tap to the man's temple with his gun and he was out for the count.
He didn't want to shoot if he didn't have to, since he didn't think the men were involved in Brent's private agenda. Plus, a gunshot, even with a silencer, could be heard by other team members who were nearby.
He disarmed the guy then crept up the stairs. Saw movement in a doorway. He pulled into the cover of a column and waited. Troy, the ex-FBI guy, was moving his way. Probably the most decent man on the team, but Gabe had no choice, no time for explanations. He waited until they were in line with each other, then went for it. Beyond a small grunt, nothing betrayed that he brought down another man.
He inched toward the back room where the Teklas had stayed, listening for the slightest noise, the faintest creak. He thought another man or two were ahead, and could hear the soft sounds of others on the level above him.
He reached the door and looked through the open gap. Two men in there. Gabe scuffed his boot on the floor. One of the men came to investigate. Gabe took care of him, then stepped into the room. The other guy swung and raised his gun. Gabe shot him in the right shoulder and left thigh. That should keep him down for a while. He strode over and ended the man's moaning by shoving his hat into his mouth, then secured his hands with a plastic cuff.
"Jasmine?" he whispered to the piles of stuff strewn around the room in case she was hiding in there somewhere.
No response came.
He stepped back, retraced his steps to the stairs then stole up to the next floor, gun in hand.
A bullet whizzed by his ear at the same time as he heard a small pop. He ducked, rolled and aimed. And didn't miss. A debilitating hit, but not fatal. Nobody rushed to investigate. The others must have been out of hearing distance.
He moved down the hallway carefully, then another and another. Ahead, two men were inspecting a giant room, clearing it section by section. Gabe looked at the sagging beam that barely held the ceiling of the hallway above him, slammed the door shut then shot at the beam until it gave, collapsing the ceiling and sealing the men inside.
Not that he had time to gloat. He was too busy running, since his impromptu demolition worked only too well. The partial collapse in front of the door created a chain reaction. Bricks were coming down all around him as he ran.
Then a beam caught him in the back and knocked him to the floor, an avalanche of bricks half burying him. He had barely begun to dig himself free when he caught sight of Brent through the settling dust.
He had Jasmine by the arm, holding his gun to her head.
"You served your purpose, Gabe. I think your contract is going to end here. Short, but productive. Just as I hoped." He gave a cruel grin.
Gabe controlled his fury. He'd been pegged from the beginning, recruited because of his connection to the target. "Long shot, wasn't it? Tekla and I were never best friends. Last time we saw each other was a decade ago."
Brent had counted on the man to come out of hiding and give himself up, if he thought he could do it safely, to a friend. It hadn't exactly worked out that way, but the stalemate had been broken. Gabe had led them to Tekla's hiding place. Brent had Jasmine because of him. Man, he hated the thought of that.
"I didn't bring you here because of your friendship to Tekla," Brent lectured. "You were brought in for your girlfriend here. When the men I hired took her, they searched the house and sent me every scrap of paper. Most of it was crap. But this one little diary..." He gave a mean laugh.
"A teenager's diary from ten years ago. Didn't pay much attention to it first, but I read the damn thing after Tekla took out those men. I figured I might find a clue to where he was hiding. People go to familiar ground when they're on the run and all that. Nothing about Venice in the diary, I tell you that. But there were pages and pages of you." Brent sneered.
Jasmine blushed scarlet and wouldn't meet Gabe's eyes.
He was too angry at Brent, too worried about her being in the middle of all this danger to feel amused. But he promised himself to enjoy the hell out of this little piece of information the second they were safe.
First, he had to get out of this jam. "Tekla got away. He's talking to the authorities right now. Whoever has been protecting you won't take the fall for this. He'll make you the scapegoat."
Brent flashed a grin of pure conceit. "I have enough on the man to be sure he'll never turn against me."
So he hadn't simply bought a politician with the promise of a share in the gold. It all came down to blackmail. "What's next then?" He needed to keep the man talking. His gun hand was almost free.
"I shoot you now, then wait for the B Team to call me with the news that they have Tekla. Once I know I no longer need your girlfriend for anything, I'll have some fun with her before I shoot her."
Jasmine stood frozen---eyes wide, cheeks pale---looking lost in some nightmarish memory. She was too stunned to struggle.
Come on, honey, Gabe tried to tell her with his eyes. Do something. Anything. All I need is a second of distraction.
"You know, reading all those teenage fantasies wasn't as bad as it sounds." Brent leered at her, but was still talking to Gabe. "Let's see what she does with a real man. Maybe I won't shoot you just yet and let you watch. If you say, pretty please."
"Go to hell."
"I take that as a no." Brent raised his gun.
That brought Jasmine out of her frozen fear, and she launched himself at the man who hadn't expected much resistance from her. Big mistake.
"What the hell---" He turned to deal with her.
Which was all Gabe needed. He shook off the rest of the bricks and took aim. He didn't try to go easy on this one. He put a bullet right into Brent's head, in the middle of his forehead.
Another shot rang out at the same time, slamming into the man's chest.
Troy stood in a doorway, his face grim as he looked at Gabe. He must have heard it all. "Let's get out of here before the others gather themselves and someone gets killed in the confusion."
His scarred face looked even more haunted than usual as he watched Jasmine, and Gabe remembered the rumor he'd heard from another guy on the team. The same explosion that had messed up Troy's voice and face had also killed the woman he loved. And for the first time, Gabe had an inkling of what that could mean to a man.
"Thanks for the help." He crawled from under the rubble, ignoring the pain that shot up his leg.
Troy nodded, his eyes narrowing. "Don't you ever knock me out again."
"Sorry about that." But his attention was on Jasmine who still stood in the same spot, her eyes riveted on the blood flowing around her feet.
Brent had grabbed on to her as he'd fallen, his lifeless fingers still circling her ankle.
"I'll make sure we have a clear path out of here." Troy took off.
Gabe kicked Brent's arm away and pulled Jasmine into his arms. Nothing ever had felt more right.
"I have the envelope," she whispered as she lifted her face to his. "Are we okay now? Is it over?"
He wanted to kiss her more than anything he'd ever wanted in his life. And then he did, just a slow brush of his lips against hers. He needed to go easy on her. She'd just been through hell. But she tightened her arms around his neck, and kissed him right back.
A long, life-altering moment passed before they pulled apart.
"I'm here. I'm not going to let anything happen to you," he promised. Ever.
His room at Camp Darby in Livorno seemed more and more like a cage with every passing day. He'd brought Jasmine here to catch up with her brother and sister after the showdown with Brent three days before. They'd been separated for Gabe's debriefing and he hasn't seen her or her brother since. Nobody seemed to be able to tell him where they went.
He wasn't allowed to leave. He was to wait for the colonel who wanted to speak to him in person and was due at camp any minute.
So when the door of his room opened, Gabe pulled his spine straight and put his heels together out of habit. But instead of the colonel, Jasmine walked in.
"Hi," she said, her Bourbon eyes fast on his face, a small, shy smile on her amazing lips. "How is your leg?"
The rubble that had buried him had done some muscle damage. He'd been limping the last time she'd seen him.
"Fine." He was used to getting banged up, didn't see why everyone wanted to make such a big deal out of it. He'd been checked and rechecked by medical personnel in the camp.
She linked her hands together in front of her in a nervous gesture. "I didn't get a chance to thank you. You saved my family."
"No thanks necessary." He wanted something else, something more. He wanted her not to walk out of his life. He wanted to be able to kiss her again. And again. "How is Mandy?"
"Much better after some IV fluids and antibiotics."
"And Jake?"
"Has a new cast." Her smile grew a little. "Looks like the army is going to clear him of all wrongdoing."
"Good. Excellent."
They faced each other in silence for a long minute, both of them clearly uncomfortable. He hated all the awkwardness between them.
To hell with that. He smiled at her. "So do I get to know what's in that diary?"
She blushed crimson. "That diary got you into this mess. You could have been killed. How can you joke about it?"
"No joke. I'm sincerely interested." An understatement. He would have given his antique baseball bat collection to know what she'd written about him ten years ago.
"I was a foolish teenager."
"And now?" He stepped closer.
She didn't answer.
He held out his hand. "My life is a mess. I don't know if I have anything to offer to a woman like you. I'm pretty sure you'd be a lot better off without me."
She gave a lopsided smile. "Are you asking me out?"
He held her gaze. "I'm asking a lot more than that."
She stepped into his arms.
"I'm going to kiss you, if that's all right."
She lifted her mouth to his without hesitation.
She was soft and sweet, the most amazing woman he'd ever met. He wanted to know more of her, all of her. Need surged through him to feel those soft curves of hers, to hear her soft breath hitch in his ear as they tangled in the sheets together...
The door's scraping interrupted his fantasy, and they pulled apart. The colonel came in and gave them a narrow-eyed look, his gaze settling on Gabe.
"I just had to sit through a very uncomfortable meeting with some top brass and Congressman Wharton who's visiting the troops here ahead of the elections. They're not happy about the shootout."
"Yes, sir. I apologize, sir."
"Do you have proof of any of your fairytale beyond your report and Tekla's envelope? Hard proof. And by that, I mean, do you know where the gold is, soldier?"
Gabe started to shake his head, but then thought of Congressman Wharton's great yacht as it had bobbed in the harbor back in Venice a couple of days ago. Working in pairs, the A Team had searched all larger vessels to make sure Jake Tekla wasn't hiding on one of them. But Brent had gone to the Congressman's yacht alone. Because of the sensitive nature of the thing, he'd said. He'd gone at night. Didn't want the media to catch him. They showed up every couple of days to snap some photos of the Congressman.
What if he hadn't gone to the yacht to search it? What if he'd carried something with him? Like gold disguised as crates of supplies? The teams had several vans.
He filled the colonel in on his suspicions.
The man gave him a displeased, narrow-eyed look when Gabe was finished. "If there's one thing I hate, it's dirty politicians. You better be right about this." He strode to the door, turned back from the doorway. "Neither of you go anywhere until I say so."
They stared after him.
Then they stared at each other.
"Are we grounded?" she asked, her tone uncertain.
"Welcome to the army. I'm sure we'll find something to do." He grinned at her, happy to see her, happy that the op was over and they were both safe, happy that she'd come to see him.
That had to mean something, right?
"Jasmine, honey?" He stepped closer to her again.
"Yes?" She stepped closer to him.
"Do you still feel the same about me as you did when you wrote that diary?"
To his disappointment, she shook her head. But then she said, "I feel much stronger."
He took her into his arms. "Thank God. Because I'm pretty sure I'm falling in love with you here."
She gave him a tremulous smile. "I want to feel good things again instead of fear when a man touches me."
He furrowed his forehead. "No other man better touch you or I'll give him reason to fear."
She smiled.
He took her lips in a passionate kiss, running his hands lightly down her back then up her ribcage, using great control to stop under her breasts. "How is it so far?"
A smile of pleasure bloomed on her full lips. "Good enough to record for all prosperity. Maybe I should start a new diary."
He thought about all the things he wanted to do with her. "You better get one with a key."
\*
The sky turned dark outside by the time the colonel came back, his expression just as grim as when he'd left. Gabe's stomach sank.
"The congressman is denying knowledge of the half dozen crates we found on board of his yacht. He claims they must have been smuggled on board when he wasn't looking. And that's not our only problem. We can't take the gold to the U.S. That would be out and out theft from the people of Afghanistan. Not to mention, we can't have a U.S. congressman implicated in something like this when half the Arab world believes we're only warring over there to steal everything that's theirs."
He seemed to have aged five years since he'd left the room earlier. "We can't give the gold back to the warlord, either, or he'd use it to buy arms against us. And we can't give it to the Afghan government without confessing everything."
He took off his hat and sat, his eyes tired as he looked up at Gabe. "Any ideas what in hell I'm supposed to do with eleven million dollars' worth of gold coins?"
Gabe swallowed hard. "Eleven?"
"Could be more," the man said in a tone of disgust. "They're still counting."
"There's this garment factory I heard of in Afghanistan. In North Village," Jasmine spoke up. "It's a non-profit gig to give work to widows and support orphans."
The colonel shot a questioning look to Gabe, then nodded. "There's one more thing," he said after a moment. "I had a quick teleconference with the FBI about this. They'll be investigating. They want a small team, preferably people who are already on the ground and already know the case."
Gabe thought those words over long and hard. As long as Congressman Wharton was flying free, people who knew the truth about him would never be safe. They needed to figure out what Brent had been blackmailing the man with and bring him down.
"The pay won't be what private security promised you, but it'll be decent," the colonel said. "Do you know anyone who might be interested in the job?"
Gabe looked at Jasmine. The expression on her face said she'd been thinking the same thing as he had. They needed to tie up all loose ends to have any chance at a normal life together.
"I waited ten years already. I can wait another couple of months," she told him.
One in a million. He smiled at her. One in a million. And she was his.
The colonel cleared his throat. Gabe caught himself and stopped staring at her, wiped the goofy grin off his face.
He refocused on the topic at hand, considering Jake Tekla and Troy, two men who already knew all about Wharton, two men he trusted. They both had what it took to take on an op that would be more dangerous than the mess they'd just survived.
He took Jasmine's hand and looked at the colonel. "I think I can put a small team together, sir."
\_
--Don't miss AVENGING AGENT, Jake Tekla's story, coming soon from Dana Marton. To read an excerpt, visit www.danamarton.com
ABOUT THE AUTHOR:
Dana Marton writes fast-paced action-adventure romances that take her readers all over the globe. She is a Rita Award finalist and the winner of the Daphne du Maurier Award of Excellence. She loves writing stories of intrigue, filled with dangerous plots that try her tough-as-nails heroes and the special women they fall in love with. Her books have been published in over a dozen languages all over the world.
CRITICS ARE RAVING ABOUT DANA MARTON'S BOOKS:
"This is definitely one to add to the must-read pile!"
suspenseromancewriters.com (THE SPY WHO SAVED CHRISTMAS)
"Readers are launched like rockets straight into the action..."
RT Book Review Magazine (THE SPY WHO SAVED CHRISTMAS)
"...a delightful, suspenseful novel with a surprising whodunit at the end... Ms. Marton has delivered a terrific book to readers!"
The Romance Readers Connection(THE SOCIALITE AND THE BODYGUARD)
"What a terrific surprise this book is! ...it has depth, excitement and suspense as well as great sexual tension. Do yourself a favor and don't miss it!"
romancereviews.com (THE SOCIALITE AND THE BODYGUARD)
"...a slickly scripted story with engaging characters and witty dialogue."
RT Book Review Magazine (THE SOCIALITE AND THE BODYGUARD)
"The pounding pace of this book begins in the opening pages and does not stop or even let up. The action and suspense are thoroughly exciting, and the characters filled with a depth of emotion that perfectly rounds out the story..."
Coffee Time Romance (ROYAL PROTOCOL)

