скачать книгу бесплатно
He sighed and moved toward the edge of the big deck. “Things have changed. My...role has changed.”
She wanted to shout at him that his role was to be Dawn’s dad and her lover and eventual husband. But she bit the words back. She’d known going into this relationship what his priorities were. But she’d thought she could change him. Or at least change his priorities. Foolish her. Yup, that was her heart cracking just a little bit more in her chest. How long until it shattered completely?
He continued. “Cargo ships have been seen making unscheduled stops in small ports along the east coast of Cuba. No off-loads or on-loads have been observed. We’ve been asked to poke around. Talk with the locals. See if they know something about any smuggling that might be going on.”
“What kind of smuggling?”
“No idea. Could be drugs, weapons, human trafficking...hell, it could be cigars for all I know.”
She snorted. “If the CIA wants to send us in to have a look, they think it’s more serious than cigars.”
He exhaled hard. “You always have been too smart for your own good.”
She took a step closer to him, to where he stared out at the woods. “It’s not our problem anymore. Other people with a death wish can go check it out.”
“But I’m uniquely qualified—” he started.
“Why? Because you’re practically a Russian agent yourself?”
He spun to face her. Something dark and cold emanated from him. This was the side of James Bond the movies never portrayed. They might get the fun and games right, but the movies mostly ignored what it meant to be a trained killer. A couple of her brothers were trained killers. She knew the signs of it in the way Alex held himself now. In how he watched everything and everyone, in the way he moved, always coiled, always ready to spring. He was a living, breathing hair trigger.
Alex spoke low and hard. “My father’s telling the powers-that-be in his government that I’m working for him. I can use that against him. I ought to be able to use his name to move around with impunity.”
“Until they get wind of you working for the CIA,” she retorted. “If your father thinks D.U. is a CIA front, you have to expect the Cubans to think the same thing. We’d end up in danger regardless of who your father is.”
He shrugged. “I have the skills to evade the Cubans. I know exactly how they’ve been trained. It’s how I was trained, dammit.”
“The CIA can find someone else to do the job,” she said implacably. She felt bad about coming across as a pushy bitch, but no way was she going to show him the true depth of her terror at the course shift his life had taken. He was heading down a path she and Dawn could not follow him down.
He huffed, sounding exasperated.
“What aren’t you telling me, Alex?”
“I already accepted the assignment.”
“Well, unaccept it!”
“I can’t.”
“You mean you won’t.”
“I mean I gave my word, and I’m going to do this.”
“And I’m supposed to sit at home like a good little woman and wait for you maybe not to come back? Ever?”
He shoved a hand through his hair. “Yes,” he finally answered. “That’s about the way of it.”
“You expect me to sit around doing nothing while you sally forth to your possible death? Not a chance. If you go, I go.”
“That’s crazy. You’re not trained for this kind of mission.”
“And yet, Doctors Unlimited asked me to go on it.”
“You need to stay home.”
She planted her fists on her hips. “No. If you go, I’m going, too. And that’s an ultimatum.”
“I don’t deal well with ultimatums,” he snapped.
“And I don’t withdraw mine,” she snapped back.
They glared daggers at each other. She could be just as stubborn and pigheaded as he could. If he was determined to do this supremely stupid thing, he damned well wasn’t going off by himself alone to do it and die.
A little voice in the back of her head whispered that this wasn’t the way to demonstrate her trust in him. She shoved away the realization that her declaration was partly based on desperation. If he decided to leave her, there wasn’t a darned thing she could do about it, right? Mentally, she knew that. But way down deep in her gut, she was forced to acknowledge that her ultimatum had as much to do with clinging to him as anything.
“What else aren’t you telling me?” she demanded.
“I don’t know anything more than I’ve told you.”
“If you’re dragging me off to Cuba, I have a right to know everything.”
“I don’t want to drag you to Cuba, dammit! I want you stay here and be safe.”
“Which is exactly what I want you to do, too.”
“Not happening.”
“Then I’m going to Cuba, whether you take me with you or not.”
He stared at her in frustration. She crossed her arms defensively and stared back. It was a long standoff, but she was a McCloud, and they were a tenacious bunch.
He finally declared, “You are the most stubborn, unreasonable female I’ve ever had the misfortune to know.”
Hah. Capitulation. She heard it in his voice. Gracious in victory, she murmured, “And that’s why you love me.”
He scowled, and she didn’t press the point. Instead, she asked, “Why is André going to all the trouble of infiltrating us into Cuba to hunt for something the CIA isn’t even sure exists? Does this have something to do with your father?”
“Maybe,” he answered candidly. “The close Cuban connection to Russia lends credence to the notion. Several of the ships that have been spotted belong to Russian front corporations, and some intelligence traffic has been tracked between Cuba and the FSB that corresponds to the appearances of the ships.”
“Is that why you’re so set on going on this wild-goose chase, then?”
“I’d definitely rather know what Peter’s up to than be operating in the blind.” He added quietly, “And so would the CIA.”
“Are you ever going to give up this never-ending battle against him?”
“I will if he will.”
She snorted. “Like that’s gonna happen.”
“Exactly.”
“Cuba, huh?” she said in resignation.
“Please stay home,” he tried one last time.
“Please stay here with me,” she retorted.
“I’m sorry,” he said simply. “I can’t.”
“There are things going on around us I don’t understand, Alex, and I’m worried. My gut says something or someone’s closing in on us. Whoever took that shot at me on the terrace did not do it randomly. I think it would be best if we both got out of Washington and stayed off everybody’s radar for a while. Call it crazy women’s intuition.”
He stared at her for a long time. Secrets swirled in his turbulent, unwilling gaze. But in the end, keeping them to himself won out over talking her into staying home. She gathered, however, that he agreed with her intuition.
He released a long, unhappy sigh. “Are your parents going to be okay with keeping Dawn for a few weeks?”
“Lemme think,” she drawled. “More time to spoil their adorable only grandchild rotten? Gee. I don’t know.”
Alex smiled briefly, but the expression didn’t reach his eyes. He had some inkling of who’d taken that shot at her and why. What about that had him so freaked out? Enough to give in and let her come to Cuba with him? Was it really going to be safer for her in a hostile country where being caught meant arrest or even possible death?
Wow. Not reassuring.
CHAPTER FOUR (#ulink_fdb5bd0e-b4c1-547f-8866-7246629b5e71)
ALEX LEANED BACK in his uncomfortable airplane seat and pretended to sleep. Why hadn’t CIA satellites picked up anything at all on the shooter at his condo yesterday? He’d been on the phone no more than two minutes after the shooting and André had promised the agency would take a look at its live security telemetry of the nation’s capital.
The day had been sunny and clear. They should have seen something. A car, a figure moving away from the area on foot, a flash off a gun scope, anything. He’d given André detailed descriptions of all three of the perches a sniper could possibly use to hit that planter on his terrace. How hard could it have been to check out three lousy hides?
His gut churned alarmingly. Something was wrong. What wasn’t André telling him? His instincts warned that the agency’s analysts had seen something but elected not to share it with him. What? And why were they hiding it from him?
And now they were sending him to Cuba, a known swarm of Russian intelligence activity, on a flimsy excuse. Why? What did they think Peter was up to? Or were they just using his father’s name as a hot button to get Alex to jump into Cuba?
André had been cagey when he pushed his boss for details. Fortinay had flatly refused to divulge why he and Katie specifically had to go to Cuba and what exactly they were supposed to be looking for when they got there. No way was this a random aid mission. The CIA was up to something. But André steadfastly avoided revealing even a hint of what was up.
As if that wasn’t bad enough, Alex really didn’t like the fact that D.U. was determined to send Katie with him. He’d tried to talk André out of it, but had failed spectacularly. He got that they wanted someone watching him, but he resented the idea that they thought they could use his civilian girlfriend that way.
This whole business of being a good guy, of playing along with their damned rules, was starting to grate on his nerves. He was half tempted to go back to the good old days when everybody hated him and he lived on the edge, tiptoeing between his enemies to stay alive.
Katie’s head landed lightly on his shoulder and he shifted to make it into a more comfortable pillow for her. She gave him a purpose in life, but God, the cost of being with her and Dawn was daunting at times. He so wasn’t an inside-the-box kind of guy.
And it wasn’t as if he had any right to ask her to live outside the box with him in his shadow world. If Dawn weren’t in the picture, maybe he would ask it of her. But the two of them had committed to raising the orphaned child, and he wasn’t about to back out of that commitment any more than Katie was.
It was hard enough for him to straddle the world of espionage and the bright, shiny world where people fell in love and had families, and he had a lifetime’s experience doing it. No way could Katie handle both. If only he could offer her and Dawn some kind of security for the long term.
Miami International Airport was as huge and chaotic as he remembered it. The plan was to wait out Hurricane Giselle in Florida, and then make their way to Cuba after it passed. André’s contact in Cuba had flatly refused to let Alex bring any of his own equipment or supplies into the country.
The unnamed Cuban had apparently assured D.U. that plenty of emergency medical supplies were in place on the island. Riiight. Alex smelled a whole bunch of meatball medicine under horrendous conditions forthcoming.
He glanced over at Katie, who smiled excitedly at him, and he just shook his head. The girl had an adventurous streak a mile wide. It had gotten her in trouble before, and he had no doubt it would get her in trouble again. He was beginning to suspect it would turn out to be his fate in life to protect her from herself.
They collected their bags and found a shuttle to take them to their hotel. He had to give D.U. credit for springing for upscale lodgings. Most of the time, D.U. staffers lived in miserable field conditions—crude tents with no running water or electricity among refugees and the destitute, treating injuries and disease under grueling pressure. He had faith Cuba wouldn’t be any better when they got there in the aftermath of a major hurricane.
Speaking of which, the sky overhead looked ominous. By the time they reached the hotel, the first fat drops of rain were starting to fall and the wind was picking up. Miami was forecast to get hit by peripheral rain bands but not much more.
They checked into their room with no trouble. He was amused that André had booked them one room with a king-size bed. Keeping the watcher and the watched close, much?
“How bad is the weather supposed to get here?” Katie asked as rain pounded at the big windows.
He flipped on the TV to check the latest updates. The weather channels were still showing a direct hit on Cuba. Giselle, a small but strong category-four storm and intensifying, was expected to run, literally, the length of the island. “Nothing to write home about here in Miami. But Cuba’s going to get clobbered.”
“Where will D.U. send us?”
“East end of the island. The mountains down its spine will weaken the storm significantly, and the west end won’t get hit nearly as bad.”
“So, the category five will be down to a measly category three or so when it hits Havana?” she asked wryly.
He shrugged. “They’re used to hurricanes. Havana will be fine. It’s the poor, isolated villages in the east that will be in trouble.”
“Have you ever been to Cuba?” she asked curiously.
“Not on our list of approved conversation topics,” he replied shortly.
“We still have one of those?” she asked in dismay.
“You thought having sex with me entitled you to all of my secrets?”
“Well, yes.” She looked crestfallen.
He grinned and shook his head. “I swear. You’re such a newb.”
“If you won’t tell me all, then can we at least have sex?” she asked hopefully.
His grin widened. God, she was good for his soul. He took a step toward her, but his phone rang, and he swore under his breath.
“Alex Peters,” he snapped.
“Am I disturbing you?”
His father’s unwelcome voice startled him, and he replied tersely, “What do you want?”
“I hear you’re taking a little trip. Is there anything I can do for you while you’re there? I have a few contacts who might prove useful.”
Alex’s jaw dropped. How in the hell did Peter know about their secret trip to Cuba? Obviously not so secret a trip, dammit.
Christ. Who else knew about their supposedly secret infiltration onto the island? How dangerous was this trip to Cuba going to be, after all? He glanced over at Katie in alarm. And she was out here in the line of fire with him. On the one hand, he was glad to have her close by where he could personally ensure her safety. But on the other hand, he’d promised her she’d never be in life-threatening danger again if he could help it.
Yeah, he’d bet his Russian spy father had plenty of contacts in flipping Cuba.
Why did the man feel obliged to let his son know that he was aware of this planned junket? What was his father’s ploy? Was Peter worried about Alex’s safety and genuinely warning him that his mission was on the Russians’ radar? Or was the man putting him on notice that his every move would be watched? Or was it merely part of their long-standing pissing contest to show that FSB intelligence sources were better than the CIA’s?
