- Home
- Carol Ericson
Trap, Secure: Navy SEAL Security Page 7
Trap, Secure: Navy SEAL Security Read online
Page 7
“What time?”
“Around two a.m., just outside of town.”
The front door of the restaurant burst open, and two men stumbled into the dining room babbling in loud voices. Randi caught every other word from their disjointed discourse.
And it didn’t sound good.
“What’s going on?” Gage pocketed his phone.
“What do you think?” She pushed her plate away and cupped her mouth with one hand. “The police found the bodies at the gas station.”
“And the burned-out car?”
She put a finger to her lips and cocked her head. The men were heading for the kitchen, their voices receding.
“I can’t tell.” She picked at the soggy label on her beer bottle. “Should we be worried?”
Gage shrugged one broad shoulder. “There’s no evidence to tie us to any of it.”
“And if there were, would your friends be able to get us out of it—get you out of it?”
“It’s not going to be an issue.”
A police officer slid through the front door of the restaurant, and Randi held her breath and shot Gage a sideways glance.
“Don’t worry about it.” He gestured at the waitress for their bill.
“We’re strangers. Won’t that make them take a second look at us?”
“There’s a lot of drug violence in this part of the country. That scene back there is not unusual.”
“Then I can’t wait to leave.”
No matter what awaited her in Panama.
“We’re going to get a hotel room, take a bath, get some sleep in a real bed.” He tapped his head. “How are your various injuries?”
She blinked, still trying to reel back from the words bath and bed. “My shoulder is stiff from the bullet and my head throbs without the ibuprofen, and of course, I still have no idea who I am. Other than that, I can’t complain.”
“You’re a trouper, Randi.”
The waitress slid their bill onto the table and leaned in to whisper in English. “Careful. Drug dealers. Violence.”
She melted away, calling out to a table of customers.
“Well, at least our waitress doesn’t suspect us.” Gage snatched the bill from the table and withdrew some bills from his pocket.
“Do you want me to call her back and ask about a decent hotel for the night?”
“I saw one on our way in that should allow us to slip out in the middle of the night undetected.”
“Lead the way.”
They retraced their steps through the town, which still buzzed with activity. Maybe everyone had heard about the carnage by this time, and the excitement—or the fear—was keeping them on the streets.
Gage pointed to a hotel comprising a couple of buildings with the rooms facing a courtyard. They wouldn’t have to sneak through a lobby at two in the morning to meet their ride.
She did the talking at the front desk and Gage paid in cash—for one room with one bed.
Gage jingled the key as they crossed the courtyard. “We can clean up and take a nap. I’ll set the alarm on my phone so we don’t miss our flight.”
He shoved open the door and ushered her in first.
Randi’s gaze tracked across the sparsely furnished room, stumbling over the bed with the colorful bedspread. “Are we going to have to walk far to meet up with the helicopter?”
“Not too far.” He dropped his bag in the corner of the room and twitched the curtain aside. “Why don’t you take a bath first?”
She placed the backpack next to his bag and pushed open the bathroom door. A neat row of white towels hung next to the tub, which sported a couple of cracks.
“It looks clean enough,” she called over her shoulder.
He came up behind her and she jumped.
“Nervous?”
“Oh, not at all.”
“I think you can relax now.”
“Easy for you to say. You know who you are.”
He brushed a lock of hair from her cheek, his finger a whisper on her skin. “I’m beginning to see who you are, too.”
She swallowed. “What do you see?”
“Someone brave and resilient.”
“Are you still going to see that if you find out I’m in league with Zendaris?”
He dropped his hand and took a step back, the lines in his face forming a grimace.
If it turned out she belonged with Zendaris, Gage would do a one-eighty. He’d despise her then and do anything to break her.
She spun around and slammed the bathroom door in his face.
“Randi?” He smacked the door once.
She couldn’t allow him to know how much his approval meant to her. Closing her eyes, she took a deep breath. “I’m going to take that bath now.”
“Let me know if you need anything.”
Like a new life? A new identity?
“Okay.”
She fiddled with the handles until a stream of warm water coursed from the faucet. She shed her clothing, and then clutching the tiny bar of soap in one hand, she stepped into the rising water.
She lowered herself into the tub and lathered up her body. She ran her palm across the flesh wound in her shoulder, now just a scaly crease on her skin. A few inches lower and to the right and she’d be dead.
She reclined, knees bent, her feet braced against the end of the tub. The warm water lapped around her body and her eyelids drooped.
Even if Zendaris had claimed her once, he’d obviously left her for dead. She could make a new start. She’d work with Gage to bring him in.
Brave. Resilient.
A smile curved her lips as she drifted off.
She woke with a start, her heart slamming against her chest. Was that a yell or had she been dreaming?
A split second later, the bathroom door crashed open and two men locked in a deadly embrace fell to the floor.
This was no dream.
Chapter Six
Gage landed on top of the man as they hit the bathroom floor. Water sloshed over the side of the tub. “Stay where you are, Randi.”
Driving a knee into the man’s chest, Gage drew back his fist. If the guy made a move, Gage would bury his hand into his face.
The man didn’t make a move. Blood trickled from the side of the attacker’s head where it rested against the base of the toilet at an odd angle.
Gage slapped the man’s face. His lids remained still, and his breathing remained steady.
“He’s unconscious.” He jerked his head up to take in Randi, frozen in the tub, her eyes huge and glassy. “Are you okay? Can you get me the rope out of my bag?”
She nodded and rose from the water while making a grab for the towel hanging on the rack.
He averted his gaze from her lithe, naked body.
She stepped from the tub and hopped over the extended legs of the unconscious man. Seconds later, she dangled the rope over his shoulder.
“Who is he? How’d he get in here?”
“Both really good questions.” He rolled the man to his stomach and pinned his arms behind his back. “Can you help me with his legs?”
Randi crouched beside him, water still beading on her arms, the scent of lilacs on her skin.
The towel she’d hastily wrapped around her body slipped as she grabbed the stranger’s ankles. Gage dropped his gaze to the rope and concentrated on hog-tying the man’s hands and feet.
She yanked at the towel and sat on the edge of the tub, her bare toes curled into the linoleum. She repeated her questions. “Who is he and how’d he get into the room?”
“He walked right in. So either he had a key or he slipped the lock. And I don’t have a clue who he is. We didn’t have much time to chat, since he came at me with a knife.”
“A-are we going to wait until he regains consciousness to find out who he is?”
Gage secured the knot and glanced over his shoulder. “I don’t think we should hang around here.”
“You think there might be more?”
“Maybe.” He patted the man’s pockets. “Get dressed and pack up the bags if you took anything out. And wedge a chair beneath the door just in case someone else has a key to this room.”
Clutching the towel to her chest, she stepped over the intruder’s body.
The man had nothing in his pockets, not even a key. How the hell had he gotten into the room? One minute Gage had been checking messages on his phone, the next he’d glanced up at the creak of the door to see a man flying across the room at him, leading with a knife. Their struggle had taken them right into the bathroom. Thank God Randi had been in the tub, out of the way.
Would she ever get a break? A chance to relax and recuperate from her injuries? Would she get that chance in Panama?
The facility there belonged to the CIA, not Prospero. He would’ve preferred taking her to a Prospero installation, but they had nothing in the immediate area.
The CIA had been hard after Zendaris, too, so the agents in Panama would be salivating over Randi. That’s what worried him.
Gage pushed to his feet and rolled the shoulder he’d driven into the man’s chest. He shut the bathroom door behind him after locking it from the inside. Might as well make it harder for someone to get in there to discover him.
Randi had lodged one hard-back chair under the door handle, and Gage grabbed the other chair and wedged it beneath the handle of the bathroom door. Might as well make it harder for him to get out when he regained consciousness.
Randi had zipped up the duffel and the backpack and dropped them in the middle of the room. She pointed to the knife under the table. “I left that for you. Did you find anything on him?”
“Nope.” Gage crouched and picked up the knife with a handkerchief. He opened the duffel and dropped it inside. “Might be interesting to see where his prints lead us.”
“You’re just going to leave him there?”
“Do you expect me to call the police and an ambulance?”
“I expected you to kill him.”
“Whoa!” He straightened up, hitching the bag over his shoulder. “I don’t need to be on Colombia’s Most-Wanted list. He’ll be otherwise engaged for a while.”
“And us?” She slid the backpack onto her shoulders. “Where will we be engaged until that chopper comes to pick us up?”
He smoothed the straps of the pack against her back. “I’m sorry. That wasn’t much of a rest for you.”
“Don’t worry about me. Your concern for me almost got us killed.”
“What does that mean?”
“If I hadn’t been with you, would you really have checked into a motel to clean up and take a nap before the pickup?”
Busted. Heat rose from his chest, and he turned toward the door before it reached his face. “Maybe.”
“Liar.”
“You are with me, and you’re injured.” He eased open the door and peeked through the crack. Then he drew his gun from his holster. “This time if someone comes at us, it just might result in a dead body. If I start shooting, hit the deck.”
“Got it.”
He poked his head outside while reaching back and tucking Randi behind him. They slipped from the room into the silent courtyard where wet leaves glistened in the moonlight. They crept along the side of the building and stayed in the shadows.
Randi tugged on his sleeve. “You didn’t tell me where we’re going.”
He put his lips close to her ear, inhaling the lilacs from her interrupted toilette. “You said you wanted me to treat you like any other agent, right?”
She nodded and strands of her hair clung to the scruff on his chin.
“Then let’s head back into the wild.”
They continued hugging the sides of buildings until they crossed the road away from the town and back into the rain forest.
The tropical air hung heavy with moisture and the promise of showers. The sodden foliage squelched beneath their feet, and the smell of the ripe earth filled Gage’s nostrils, blotting out every last lilac.
“Are we almost there?” Randi’s whisper mingled with the faint breeze.
Gage glanced at the GPS on the phone he cupped in his palm. He’d tapped in the coordinates for the pickup location earlier, and the clearing for the chopper shined like a beacon about a hundred yards in front of them.
“Yeah. Almost there. There’s a clearing where the chopper will land, but we’ll stick to the trees until it’s time. We still have a few hours. You should be able to catch a couple of winks before the pickup.”
Near the edge of the clearing, Gage pocketed his phone and dropped the duffel bag. He pulled a tarp from the bag and shook it out.
Randi grabbed the opposite corners and they spread it out on the ground. He aimed a can of bug spray around the edge of the tarp.
“Wear this.” He tossed a sweatshirt to Randi. “So you don’t get eaten alive out here.”
She pulled the sweatshirt over her head and sank to the tarp. “I think I prefer the insects out here to the human insects who won’t leave us alone.”
Gage dropped to the ground and scooted back against a tree trunk, stretching his legs in front of him. “Why don’t you lie down?” He patted his thighs. “You can use me as a pillow if you like.”
“That’s okay.” She rolled to her side, bringing her knees to her chest in a fetal position and curling one arm beneath her head.
Was she afraid he’d get distracted again and endanger their lives?
He rested his weapon beside him. “I’ll keep watch.”
She blinked her long lashes a few times and then closed her eyes. “Wake me up when the chopper gets here.”
Sleep stole over her within minutes. Her breathing deepened and the worry smoothed from her face. At least she had faith in his abilities to keep them safe.
She was right. He’d been an idiot holing up in that motel room. He’d just wanted to give her a break. God knows she needed it, deserved it.
Deserved. Sucking in his cheek, he tapped his boots together. What exactly did Zendaris’s mistress deserve?
He had to keep his head straight here. He and Randi weren’t sharing some wild, exotic adventure together. He’d come to capture her boyfriend and had found her instead. Injured. Vulnerable. But she’d been in league with the bad guys.
He waged war with himself and his feelings for Randi over the next few hours as he kept watch. By the time the chopper’s blades cut through the night air, Gage had given up trying to convince himself that Randi was just another witness.
He couldn’t resist being drawn to her, and he had to admit that part of that attraction had to do with the fact that he could look into her eyes without wondering if she planned to use him for his money and family connections. But that didn’t mean this attraction had to go any further. It would end at the CIA compound in Panama.
And this chopper signaled the beginning of the end.
“Hey.” He nudged Randi’s shoulder. “Our ride is here.”
She mumbled in her sleep and he bent over her to catch the stray words. Would her dreams reveal her identity before her conscious mind?
Her words, slurred and nonsensical, dissipated in the muggy air. He wouldn’t learn the truth about Randi from pillow talk.
“Wake up.” He squeezed her shoulder again, and her long limbs unfurled.
“Is it time?”
“The helicopter is here. It should be landing in a minute.” He held up his hand. “Wait until I give you a sign.”
Crouching forward, he ventured into the clearing and spotted the chopper making its descent, its lights dimmed and its blades slowing down.
The CIA had sent one of its high-tech models—not quite a stealth helicopter but not some big, roaring machine, either.
Gage jogged back to Randi. “It’s our guy. Help me pack up the tarp.”
They rolled up their makeshift bed, and Gage stuffed it into the duffel.
“Are you ready?”
“As ready as I’ll ever be.”
He led her b
ack to the clearing where the chopper had settled. They both bent forward and ran toward their ticket out of the rain forest.
Gage tossed his bag into the bird, disengaged the backpack from Randi’s shoulders and helped her into the backseat. Once he’d climbed into the chopper and pulled the seat belt over his head, he glanced at the pilot.
Dave Cutler—CIA.
Gage had been hoping for one of his own. He’d been hoping for Deb Sinclair—navy pilot turned first female Prospero agent.
He swallowed and grabbed the headphones hanging from the instrument panel in front of him. “You stationed in Panama now?”
“I don’t get any thanks for saving your ass, Booker?” He jerked his thumb over his shoulder. “And that very fine ass in the back?”
So that’s the treatment the company planned to dish out to Randi. A muscle ticked in Gage’s jaw.
“Yeah, thanks. And that woman in the back is an injured Prospero witness.”
“You Prospero boys don’t have exclusive domain over Zendaris.” Cutler flipped some switches and the chopper lifted at an angle. “You had your chance. Stark lost those anti-drone plans, J.D. couldn’t find them and your tip on Zendaris was a bust.”
“Stark is the one who discovered Zendaris had those anti-drone plans in the first place and J.D. got closer to Zendaris than anyone has in years.”
“Not as close as Zendaris’s girlfriend got.”
“You know she has amnesia, right?” Gage twisted his head around and flashed a smile at Randi, grateful she didn’t have a pair of headphones and couldn’t hear one word he’d exchanged with Cutler since they’d climbed into the helicopter.
“I know she says she has amnesia.”
“Trust me. Randi doesn’t remember who she is or what she was doing at the Zendaris compound.”
“We know what she was doing at the Zendaris compound with Zendaris. You’re going to believe a woman like that? She’s pulling one over on you, Booker.” He snorted. “How does she know her name is Randi if she has no memory?”
“We found something addressed to her at the house. First name only. No passport, no ID.” Gage pressed his lips together. He didn’t owe Cutler any explanations.
Cutler worked in the black-ops division of the CIA, but more in the capacity of shuttle driver than agent or analyst. He got agents in and out of hot spots. Helluva pilot but a crappy human being.