Joanne sighed softly and looped her arm around his ribs to stroke his back. Up, down, up, down, in a gentle, relaxing rhythm. He was supposed to be the one comforting her, and instead she was soothing him. He fumbled for something to say. Should he bring up what had happened in Marianao and let her talk it out, or act like it never happened?“I’m glad you’re here with me right now,” she whispered against his skin. “I feel safe with you next to me.”Ah, Jesus. Alex closed his eyes as the knife twisted harder between his ribs. After tonight he wouldn’t be there to hold her in the dark when she had nightmares. And she would have them. By taking her to Marianao tonight he’d almost gotten her killed, and for what? They’d lost the cell and the hostage.He nuzzled the top of her head, her damp curls catching on his stubble. “Good. Think you can sleep for a while now?” He hoped so, because she needed it. Plus it would spare them any more of this intense conversation he didn
Hernandez paused in the midst of yanking a handful of shirts from the shelf in his tiny closet to wipe the back of one wrist across his sweaty face. Lord, he was soaked. He dragged a small duffel bag from the closet floor and shoved the clothes inside. No matter how he tried to control it, he couldn’t stop his hands from shaking. He hadn’t been lying when he’d called in sick to work earlier. He was sick. He’d already thrown up once and his stomach still churned as if it might bring up the light breakfast he’d eaten just before sunrise. That sick feeling in his gut was why he’d decided to run. The authorities were closing in on him, he felt it. Whether it was the Americans or Cubans or the Connery family who eventually took him out was irrelevant at this point. Hernandez had no intention of suffering torture or imprisonment for his part in this operation. He’d already fulfilled his obligation to the organization behind all this and now he wanted out. But how could he do that?
Claire put on her screensaver—a picture of her, her brother and father—to cover up what she’d just found, though the image of the man was now permanently burned into her brain.Bruce Connery.She sat back and ran an unsteady hand through her hair. Her heart was racing double time because of what she’d just discovered on file. Holy shit, Marshall and the others had no idea what they were up against. She had to warn them.Claire prayed Marshall would respond to her text. Things were about to get critical for everyone involved and she didn’t want him or the others to walk into the situation unawares. And that wasn’t the only thing that made her stomach twist. By poking around in the system and coming up with Bruce Connery’s name, she’d just flagged her activities to the entire NSA network, and probably a few more three letter agencies as well.Shit, shit, shit.She stood and rubbed a hand over her face, too
Joanne was already drifting back toward consciousness when she felt Alex jerk beside her. Her eyes sprang open in the dimness to find him pushing up into a sitting position. She immediately turned onto her side and propped herself up on one elbow. He’d thrown both legs over the side of the bed and his head was cocked slightly, his body eerily still.“What is it?” she murmured, reaching out to stroke a hand down the length of his naked back. The muscles beneath her palm were rigid with tension.Then she heard it. Faint popping noises, from either down the hall or maybe the floor beneath them. Followed closely by what sounded like human screams. Joanne’s heart stuttered as she realized what it was.Gunfire. Bursts of it.Shit! She shot upright, her eyes on Alex as she lunged for her bra and panties lying on the floor beside the bed.He was already up and reaching for his jeans, his phone to his ear. “We’ve got automatic fire in the hotel,” he said to whoever h
Out in the hotel parking lot, Marshall shoved his way through the crowd of transfixed onlookers and headed straight for the armed officers maintaining the perimeter a good distance away from the hotel. The SWAT team was doing dick all, standing around the command van. A continuous stream of guests flowed out of the hotel’s ground floor exits, people in their sleepwear doubled over coughing, their clothes and skin tarnished with smoke and soot.No sign of Alex or Joanne, and neither of them had responded to the last two texts Marshall had sent. Ignoring the gestures and shouts for him to stay back, Marshall strode right up to the armed guards to find out what the hell was going on.“I’m an American military contractor, and my team leader’s inside,” he told the pissed off corporal.“No one goes in but law enforcement,” the guy told him firmly. “Get back and give us some room.”He could have tried storming past them but
At the sound of Alex’s voice Joanne closed her eyes for a second and sent up a silent prayer of thanks. She had no idea how he’d survived all that gunfire, or how she’d remained unscathed with all those bullets flying around. Pushing to her feet, she threw out a hand to steady herself when her legs wobbled. The inside of her chest burned from the smoke and her coughing had done little to clear her lungs. Her left hand gripped the railing, her right holding fast to the pistol. It felt strange against her palm but she wouldn’t hesitate to pull the trigger if she had to, lack of training or not.A few unsteady steps down and she craned her head around to see Alex and the two men lying crumpled on the floor. Bile rose in her throat. Her gaze swung from the bodies to Alex, taking in the rifles and—Alex was bleeding.“You were shot!” She rushed down the remaining steps, ignoring his muttered dismissal, her attention on the blood spilling down his
Alex started down with a pronounced limp, his fingers curled around her wrist, but she shook him loose. If there were more threats he’d need both hands and she could walk down these last stairs on her own.The scent of gunpowder and blood mixed with the acrid tang of smoke, the reek of it all burning her nostrils. Alex swept past the dead gunmen. Bodies of their innocent victims lay sprawled in a tangle of limbs on the stairs, so heartbreakingly close to the exit and escape. Another wave of nausea twisted her stomach. She swallowed a gag and kept her eyes on Alex’s wide shoulders to block out the hideous sights. Putting one unsteady foot in front of the other, she curled both hands around the cold metal railing for support, her focus on that heavy steel door below them.Stepping between the bodies, Alex stopped at the side of the door and glanced back at her. “I’m going out first. Stay here until I tell you to come out. There’re gonna be fi
Over an hour after being wheeled into the emergency room on a fucking gurney, Alex was done with people poking and prodding at him. The wounds in his upper arm and calf hurt the worst, but the doc had already confirmed there were no bullets in him, just bits of concrete and splinters of metal. Two nurses were currently pulling some of them out of his back with tweezers while the doc sewed up the hole in his arm in preparation for a precautionary round of x-rays.Biting back a snarl when one of the nurses dug deep into the middle of his back to extract a splinter of shrapnel, he gritted his teeth and fought for patience. Joanne was safe; she was being looked over somewhere in this same ER, he just couldn’t go to her. And he needed to. Wanted to see for himself that she was truly okay.The doctor, a young Cuban woman, tied off the last stitch and set down her needle driver on the metal tray beside his bed. “I stopped all the bleeding so that should do for now. Once we verify via x-ray t