Deadly Escape Page 12

  But I did know that I couldn’t face my husband and kids if I messed up with Ramos. And it wasn’t just them. How could I look at myself in the mirror, knowing I’d betrayed the people I loved the most in the world? I couldn’t do that. So, even though it was killing me inside, I had to leave it alone. Leave him alone.

  I turned on my side, and tears began to pour from my eyes. I wasn’t sure why I was crying. Yes, it had been awful to see Cypher again, and his threats terrified me. I knew he had something up his sleeve, and I didn’t know what it was.

  I’d had a wonderful time tonight, but seeing the memorials and the names of all the people who had fought and died for the freedom I enjoyed, brought a sense of sadness to my heart.

  But deep down, I knew I cried the most for something that could never be…me and Ramos.

  Chapter 7

  My alarm went off way too early.

  After splashing my face with cold water, I sighed with relief to find that my eyes weren’t too puffy. I shook my head at how stupid I was for crying like that. Holding the washcloth to my face, I enjoyed the soft fluffiness against my skin.

  Next, I artfully applied my face cream and makeup. Done with that, I examined my reflection in the mirror and decided that I looked mostly normal. At least the dark circles under my eyes were less pronounced.

  It didn’t help that I’d hardly slept. Now all I wanted to do was get this last interview with Cypher over with, so I could go back to my normal life. Of course, my normal life wasn’t exactly a piece of cake either, since Leo Tedesco was gunning for Uncle Joey, but it seemed tame compared to dealing with a terrorist like Cypher.

  When had my life gotten so complicated? Oh yeah…the day I stopped for carrots at the grocery store. That one pivotal moment had changed everything, and there was no going back. But on the bright side, I was still alive, so that had to count for something.

  After fixing my hair, I slipped on the same clothes I’d worn yesterday, but at least my underwear was clean. I sprayed a small amount of perfume over me, amazed at how just smelling good did wonders for my soul.

  As I slipped on my ankle boots, a knock sounded at my door. Gabriel was early. I opened it to find both Ramos and Gabriel standing there. Gabriel held a disposable carton with three cups of coffee and a bag. “Bonjour ma chérie. May we come in?”

  “Please,” I said, opening the door wide. “Did you bring breakfast?”

  “Oui. It is never good to interrogate a terrorist on an empty stomach.” He placed the items on the small table in the corner and pulled out one of the chairs, motioning for me to sit. Ramos and Gabriel sat down in the other chairs, and Gabriel pulled two breakfast croissants out of the bag, handing them to me and Ramos. “Here you go. Bon appetit.”

  “Thanks.” I pulled the wrapper away so I could take a bite of total deliciousness. “This is amazing. Where did you get this?”

  “The hotel is very accommodating to the French,” he said with a smile, and unwrapped his croissant.

  I smiled back and glanced at Ramos. He gave me a lopsided grin thinking that after yesterday, I didn’t seem any worse for the wear. He hoped, for my sake, that today was the last of it, and we could go home. I sent him a smile and nodded in agreement.

  Maybe I’d just imagined that he’d wanted to spend the night with me. Realizing just how far off base I was about his intentions brought a blush creeping up my neck. What was I thinking? How stupid could I be? “So Ramos, how are things going back home? Do you know if they caught Leo yet?”

  “I don’t think so. I called Ricky this morning, but he hadn’t heard anything.”

  “Do you want me to call Dimples and find out more?”

  “That’s a good idea, but let’s wait until we’re done here. Why don’t you call him on the way home, so we’ll know what we’re walking into?”

  “Okay.” I glanced at Gabriel and decided to fill him in since he didn’t know what we were talking about. “Dimples is the detective I work with at the police department.” Then I explained the whole story about Leo Tedesco’s escape from prison, and his threat to Uncle Joey because of their shared past experiences.

  Gabriel’s brows rose, and he was thinking how complicated my life was. Then it suddenly dawned on him that I worked for both a mob-boss and the police. He hadn’t known about that. He’d always been under the impression that Ramos was my bodyguard. But was that because of the mob-boss?

  All of my connections to so many different organizations confused him. How had I gotten involved with Blake in the first place? There had to be a story behind that. Maybe someday I’d share it with him but, for now, it was no wonder that I looked a little tired.

  “At least Uncle Joey’s still safe in New York, right?” I asked Ramos, not wanting to hear more about how rough my life was, or how tired I looked.

  “Yes,” Ramos answered, thinking that maybe I’d better shut up now. He trusted Gabriel, but it was never good to get too chummy with the police, no matter who they were or where they lived.

  He was probably right, but Gabriel wasn’t going to betray me or Ramos. Not after what we’d done in Paris. We could trust him.

  “Shall we go?” Gabriel asked, pulling us both back to the present situation. “We don’t want to be late.”

  They had finished their croissants, but I’d barely started mine since I’d been talking so much. “I’ve got to grab my purse, and then I’ll be ready.” I crammed the last couple of bites into my mouth and threw the wrapper into the wastebasket.

  Swallowing my last bite, I hurried into the bathroom and quickly brushed my teeth, then slipped the small overnight bag the hotel had given me into my purse. It had come in handy, and I didn’t want to leave it behind. I applied some lip gloss and hefted my bulging bag over my shoulder.

  We checked out of the hotel and stepped outside. It surprised me to find a black SUV waiting for us. It surprised me even more to see Sloan holding the door open. Her face held a professional smile, but she was thinking that Ramos may think they were done, but she wasn’t ready to give up yet.

  She knew Ramos hadn’t told her all of the details about his escape from Cuba, but she’d picked up enough to know that he’d nearly died. She suspected a stronger tie to Vincente than he’d admitted to, and she tucked that little piece of information away for future use, determined to figure out how to prove that he could trust her.

  She glanced at me, wondering if Ramos had gone straight into my arms after he’d left her. He claimed that there was nothing romantic between us, but she had a hard time believing that. Sure, he was supposed to protect me for Manetto, but she could see it went deeper than that. He had feelings for me, and that was rare. How had I gotten under his skin? What did I have that she didn’t?

  Yikes. I climbed into the back seat again, only this time Gabriel sat down beside me, and Ramos took the front seat. Sloan hid her smile, more pleased than the choice warranted. Didn’t she know that Ramos would have sat by me if Gabriel hadn’t beaten him to it?

  I let out a breath. Ugh. I needed to stop listening to her and stop caring so much about the whole thing between them. It was driving me crazy.

  We hardly spoke at all on the drive back to Langley. This time, Sloan parked in the lot, and we all trooped into the building together. After passing through security once again, we left her behind and joined Wells and Blake in Wells’ office.

  As we entered, Wells stood with excitement. “We got him. Alan Rehmann, the mastermind Cypher told us about. They’re bringing him in. This is perfect timing. Now you’ll be able to sit in on his interrogation today. That way we’ll have a better idea of how deep this organization goes and if we can trust Cypher’s information.”

  “Sure.” I glanced at Gabriel. He was thinking it was too early to tell Wells that he needed to take Cypher back to France, and that I should wait until after the questioning. I sent him a nod. He was probably right, but I wanted this to end.

  “Good,” Wells said. “Let’s go.”

  We
followed him out of the building and across the courtyard to the holding cells. After entering the interrogation room, I shrugged off my jacket and set my purse beside the small desk. I smiled, pleased to find a can of diet soda waiting for me.

  While I waited for Cypher to come in, I popped it open and took a swig. Gabriel thought Wells had earned a few points with me for that, and I had to admit he was right. Then I picked up from Wells that he was hoping to soften me up for staying another day or two, and all his points went out the window.

  We all heard the sounds of running footsteps and yelling coming from the hallway at the same time. Wells jumped from his chair and hurried out the door. Gabriel and I followed. From what I could make out, it looked like Alan Rehmann had arrived with a group of soldiers. Across the hall, four soldiers held him down. He struggled against them, shouting obscenities, and they began to drag him toward the open cell at the opposite end.

  Two more soldiers joined them from another entrance on that side of the building, and more shouting ensued. Wow. This was turning into quite a show. As Wells backed away to let them handle things, a black, cylinder-type object slid along the floor toward us.

  Both Wells and Gabriel sucked in a breath.

  Someone yelled, “Flash bang!”

  Terror gripped my chest. What did that mean? As it exploded, I squeezed my eyes shut and covered my ears. The loud noise hit my brain in a wave of sound, knocking me off my feet. For a moment I couldn’t hear or see anything, and a surge of disorientation engulfed me.

  I heard shouting, but it sounded muffled, like I was underwater. I opened my eyes, but all I could see was bright, pulsing light and double vision. Someone reached down to me, urging me to get up. A gentle arm went around my waist, helping me to stand. Then I was pulled in tight and dragged away from the confusion.

  A moment later, a fresh breeze touched my cheeks. Was I outside? My rescuer pushed me forward, urging me to step upward into a dark space that I couldn’t make out. As I fumbled, he reached around and pulled me inside onto something soft. I breathed heavily, trying to stem a wave of nausea, and the room began to move.

  I opened my eyes but still couldn’t see a thing. All the colors and angles were heavily distorted and blurry. As I tried to clear my head and make sense of where I was, a prickle of unease washed over me. I struggled against the man holding me, and his grip tightened.

  His low voice whispered in my ear. I couldn’t make out the words, but his soothing tone calmed me down, and I relaxed against him. At the moment of my surrender, I felt a sting in my arm, and everything went dark.

  My senses slowly came awake. I became aware of heavy breathing and realized it was my own. My eyes fluttered open, and I tried to focus on my surroundings. My clouded brain registered that I was lying down on a bed in a darkened room.

  Grateful I could see again, I turned my head to see a dresser and nightstand beside me. The tightly drawn curtains allowed a small bit of sunlight to shine on the bed. The beige walls held framed prints of pastoral scenes, and a brown rug covered the floor.

  Taking a breath, I tried to sit up, only to find my hands and feet bound with duct tape. Panic gripped my chest, shooting alarm through my heart. It didn’t make sense. The last thing I remembered was a horrible flash of noise and light and someone leading me away to safety. How had I ended up here, bound and defenseless?

  Struggling against the mattress, I managed to sit up. My head pounded, but I pushed through the pain and pulled my knees to my chest. With my bound hands, I tugged at the tape around my ankles. I found an edge and dug with my fingernails to coax it apart, but it wouldn’t budge. I tried to jerk my ankles apart, but the tape held fast.

  Groaning, I held my wrists up to my teeth, hoping to rip the tape away. After a few seconds of chewing, I’d made some progress and kept at it, knowing I needed to get out of there fast. Whoever had me wouldn’t wait much longer for me to wake up.

  Just then, footsteps sounded outside the door. Crap! I wasn’t ready. As it opened, I held my breath. Then my heart stopped. Cypher? No, no, no. It couldn’t be him! His dark gaze pinned me in place, and I could hardly breathe. He no longer wore his prison garb. Instead, his lean form was encased in jeans and a white t-shirt with an American flag across the front.

  The incongruity shocked me into action, and I jerked and tore at my bonds like a crazy person. He just stood there and watched me, his eyes cold and heartless. He shook his head and smirked, thinking that I wasn’t so high and mighty now. This time I couldn’t ruin his plans. Sweet pleasure washed over him.

  “What do you want?” I cried. “Why am I here?” His slow smile caused my throat to close up and paralyzed me with fear.

  “As it turns out, I’ve decided on a slight change of plans, and you’re going to have a major role. It’s time for payback.” He was thinking that it couldn’t have turned out better, and using me as the messenger was the icing on the cake.

  “It’s time to get ready.” He walked toward me, and I scooted back against the headboard. With a smirk, he pulled a switchblade from his pocket and flicked it open. Before I understood what he was doing, he sliced through the tape around my ankles.

  Slipping the knife back into his pocket, he reached for my arm and dragged me off the bed. He didn’t say a word, but he was thinking that it wouldn’t be long before I would be out of his life for good, and he could hardly wait.

  Hearing that made me stumble, but his tight hold on my arm kept me upright, and he enjoyed dragging me into a small living room that opened into a kitchen with a table and chairs. A solitary chair sat in the middle of the room, and he pushed me onto it.

  Two men stood at the kitchen table, both dressed in jeans and long-sleeved shirts. Their faces were covered in stubble, and their hair was cropped short like those in the military. As they glanced at me, the hardness in their eyes turned my stomach. One of them thought I was the perfect size, and he was glad they’d gone with the smaller one.

  What did that mean? My heart began to race. I glanced at the table. A vest lay there, holding several wires, electrical components, and squares of some kind of substance. My eyes widened, and my stomach dropped. The vest was a suicide bomb, and they were making it for me. The room swam, and I couldn’t seem to breathe. This couldn’t be happening.

  Closing my eyes, I took a few measured breaths. There had to be something I could do to talk them out of this. “Look. You don’t have to do this,” I pleaded. “It’s too risky. You should just leave now while you still can.”

  At Cypher’s amused smile, I had to try a different tack. “You’ve got enough money to get out of here and go someplace where they’ll never find you. If you go through with this, you’ll make them angry. They’ll never stop hunting you. Do you really want to chance it?”

  Cypher’s smile left, replaced by cold calculation. How did I know about the money? How did I know about any of this? It was the same in Paris. I knew about all of his plans just by being in the same room with him. Before he blew me up, he was determined to find out how I did it.

  I swallowed and squeezed my eyes shut. How could this be happening? How did they get me out of the CIA stronghold at Langley? It was supposed to be safe. “How did you do it? How did you get me away from there?”

  He narrowed his eyes, surprised that I didn’t know. That was a first. Maybe doing all those times tables in his mind had done the trick.

  “What are you?” he asked. “A psychic or something?”

  I swallowed, but what did I have to lose? “Pretty much.” Maybe if I got him to talk, it would delay things long enough for someone to rescue me. I still had on my watch with the tracking device inside. Ramos would be looking for me, right? That gave me some hope.

  “But mostly, I was just in the wrong place at the wrong time. That’s kind of the story of my life. It all started when I went to the grocery store for some carrots. I got shot in the head, and then everything changed. You wouldn’t believe what I’ve been through.”

  I took
a breath to continue, but he held up a hand to stop me. “You’re not CIA?”

  “No. They’re using me just like everyone else. It all started after a mob-boss threatened to kill me, and I had to tell him about my ability. He’s been using me ever since. Then I got pushed into helping the police, so now I’m working for them, too. Then Blake got involved and dragged me to Paris.” I turned my pleading gaze to his. “See? None of this is my fault. Everyone’s using me. Frankly, I’m getting a little tired of it all.”

  If I’d expected some sympathy from him, I was dead wrong.

  “You tell a good story, but it won’t change anything.” He came close to my chair and squatted down to look me in the eyes. He flipped open the knife in his hand and brought the blade next to my face.

  I leaned back and turned my head away. He pressed the cold steel against my cheek. I trembled with fear, squeezing my eyes shut, my breath coming in short bursts. Sudden tears ran down my face. I picked up how badly he wanted to hurt me, and how much it cost him to hold the blade flat against my skin.

  My tears and panic soothed the raging anger inside of him, and he slipped the knife away before he gave in to his desires to cut my face and then slit my throat so he could watch me bleed to death. I couldn’t die that way. He wanted me to feel the panic in each second of the ticking clock. Knowing my life was slipping away until the final second when I burst apart and there was nothing left of me. That would be much more satisfying.

  It was too much. My vision darkened around the edges, and I slumped forward. Cypher caught me before I fell off the chair and shoved me back onto the seat. Then he pushed my head between my knees. I took deep breaths, and several tense seconds passed before my senses returned. Feeling better, I pushed against his hand to sit up.

  He knelt beside me, peering into my eyes. “You saw it?” he asked. “Your death?” His gaze held fascination, and he finally believed that I was the real deal. Everything I’d said was true.

  I didn’t answer, not wanting to give him the satisfaction of a reply, and turned my head away. I didn’t see his smile but caught the satisfaction pouring off of him. He was relieved that he hadn’t killed me earlier when he’d wanted to.