No Stranger to Danger (19 page)

Chapter Twenty-One

Approximately 1730 hours, Monday

In an undisclosed facility near Fairfax County, Virginia

Logan blinked, his vision blurrily coming into focus under the fluorescent light hanging above.

"Logan?" a female voice said to his left, stirring him awake.

He blinked again.

"Mara?" He struggled to get up from his back, but gentle hands pressed him down again. "Where are we?" he asked.

Mara came into focus, leaning over him, glancing around the room. "I don't know. A Seal team took us from wherever in the hell Conyers had us. That was yesterday. You've been out since then. You lost a lot of blood."

Panic spiked through his gut. "Weston? Has a man named Weston—" His question fell off as her eyes filled with concern, and she nodded her head.

Of course, Weston would have used their location from his phone call to find them. He'd sent the Seal team.

Logan glanced around the room and immediately guessed they were in a temporary facility set up in the middle of nowhere.
Not good.
Medical machines lined the plastic-sheet walls. He had an IV and blood transfusion bag attached to him and needles in his arm. Monitors beeped every few seconds.

He looked to Mara. Her arm was in a sling and a white bandage wrapped around her shoulder and over her collarbone, the lump of the bandaging thick under her shirt. Muddled memories of the day before came back to him.

"You were shot, too?" he asked, reaching to smooth his hand down her arm, then interlaced his fingers with hers.

Mara bit her lip, but her eyes darted past him to the opening in the plastic on the opposite side of the stretcher he was on.

Logan turned his head and narrowed his eyes on Weston and the man behind him as they entered the room. Another man stopped at the door and clasped his hands at his back.

Logan recognized the younger man as another agent who trained a year under him at the farm. He never forgot a face.

"Looks like you're the last man standing, Logan." Weston's voice distracted him as he strode further into the room and stopped by the bed. "Mind telling me why I've kept you alive?"

Logan swallowed, briefly looking behind the CIA director to the older man, Secretary of State Jonas Powell. Fourth in line for presidential succession.

"Where is the microchip?" Weston asked.

Logan flicked his gaze between the two men. He took a second before he answered. "I don't know." And that was the truth. Mara's hand squeezed lightly on his bicep in silent warning. "You haven't found
MacKall
?"

Weston cocked his head to the side, just in the slightest. "No," he said.

A bad feeling began to snake up Logan's spine.

If
MacKall
hadn't gotten here with the chip, he was in the wind. And just why the hell did Weston seem so informed now when he hadn’t known shit about the microchip in their last phone call?

If there had ever been a man to stand in a US government position that Logan trusted, it was Weston—but he was quickly losing trust in his own instincts.

"How did Conyers know about the call I made to you? How did he know what was said?" Logan asked, Conyers's comment to Mara coming to mind. He'd been barely conscious, but he'd heard him provoking Mara.

Weston's brow creased.

"When was the last time you had contact with
Connar
MacKall
?" Powell asked from behind Weston.

Any answer Weston might have given was cut off as the CIA director turned to Powell.

Logan didn't miss the flinch Powell gave when speaking
MacKall's
name, nor the hardening of his eyes.

There was no lying. By now they had found and gone through his burner cell.

"Days ago," Logan answered.

"You can trust me, Logan," Weston's voice turned Logan's attention back to him. "I need to know where that key is to secure it. To keep the US safe."

Logan's stomach twisted.

No one had called the chip a key so far. Where was Weston getting his intel? Logan's stare drifted to Powell, narrowing on the man.

If there was ever one thing to trust, it was that when someone in the government tells you that you can
trust
them, you were about to get screwed.

"Key?" Logan asked. As when Conyers had taunted Mara, he'd also been barely conscious when Conyers had said the chip was only intel, too. Though he hadn't trusted Conyers, ever, could he have been lying to them even then? Where would Weston have gotten the idea that the microchip was a key?

It wasn't from him, not from
MacKall
either. And it sure wasn’t from Conyers.

Powell?

Weston frowned at Logan, cocking his head to the side as their stares locked.

Logan took a gamble. "If I can trust you, why is the man Conyers was working for standing behind you without restraints?"

Weston's eyes flared a moment before he whirled on the Secretary of State, drawing from under his open suit jacket, but the other man snapped his fingers and the spy at the door lifted a sidearm with a suppressor on the end.

Mara screamed as two shots entered Weston's chest and the CIA director took a forced step back with the impact of the bullet. He went down on his knees beside the bed, his weapon clattering from his hands.

Logan flinched as a spatter of blood hit his cheek.

Powell's stare flicked between Logan and Mara as Logan tried to rise from the bed, coming up on his arm and rolling to his side, draining every ounce of his energy.

"Move and I'll have him shoot you, too," Powell said, pointing at Logan.

Logan paused on his side, his stare locking in disbelief with Powell's.

"Now where did you come up with something like that?" Jonas Powell asked.

Logan snarled as he lifted his fingers to swipe away Weston's blood.

"Conyers," Mara answered.

Powell shook his head. "He was a stupid
sumbitch
." He stepped closer. "I'm done dicking around. Now where is this
MacKall
fellow?"

Logan paused. "If you don’t know, it's already too late for your cause."

"Maybe, maybe not. I can always have another key made. I am sure my chemist will do whatever he has to do. I just want to make sure there aren’t any more of your kind out there to screw up my plans any more than you already have. Weston was the one insisting we keep you alive." He chortled. "Funny how you started to mistrust him right there at the end. I saw it in your eyes."Powell gave Weston's body a nudge with the toe of his polished shoe. The older man grimaced and pulled a white kerchief from his pocket, bending over his over-round stomach to wipe the blood from the brown leather and then tossed the kerchief onto the floor.

Logan's mind whirled over the last two weeks, over all the information he had collected. There was something he was missing, some connection Powell had.

"What are you planning?" Logan asked.

Powell came a little closer and bent down. "World domination." He opened his mouth to speak, but a uniformed man stuck his head between the curtains. "Sir, we have something."

Powell straightened, looking to the door with a nod. He turned back to Logan."Have a nice trip to hell," he said and turned to leave, motioning for the man at the door to carry out his orders.

Logan began to yank the cords from his body, forcing his aching limbs to move.

The other spy nodded and he took a step toward them as Powell left, but he paused, waiting until Powell's voice drifted away.

From the bed, near powerless, Logan gripped his side and watched as the other man crossed the room quickly, avoiding Logan and came up behind Mara, yanking her from the bedside as she wailed and struck at him, but he effectively clamped a hand over her mouth.

"Let her go," Logan growled as Mara clawed at the arms of the other man. He came from the bed, his vision going out and his head spinning as he reached to grasp the side of the stretcher for support. He stooped to pick up Weston's sidearm from the floor, stepping over the body at his feet, but the weapon was quickly knocked from his fingers.

The spy laid the suppressor of his
Hekler
& Koch against his lips to shush them both.

Logan froze, uncertain as the other man wound his arm around Mara and clamped his hand over her mouth tighter as she still struggled.

He met Logan's stare with a hard glint in his eye, leveling the sidearm at him, then turned the muzzle upward—he fired two shots through the top of the plastic over their heads and paused, then fired two more rounds.

"What the hell are you waiting for?" He looked between them. "Get out of here while you can."

He pushed Mara away, and she stumbled against the bed to catch herself. The spy reached for Logan's arm, taking it in a
hard
shake.

Logan's stare locked with his, and he recognized the stare of a man in too deep for his own good. A nameless brother in arms. An agent also used by the wrong person in power. But still a man of honor.

"I know you," Logan said.

The man nodded and released him. "We worked for the same man, but not anymore. You can relax. I'm on your side. What Conyers did to you, he also did to me."

Logan grabbed the man's sleeve as he started to move past him, and Logan snarled at him. "You killed Weston. If you're on my side, why?"

The other spy's mouth pinched into a hard line, and he grabbed Logan's hand, tossing it from his arm. "Casualties, they happen."

Logan didn’t say another word, just pulled the rest of the needles from his arm and reached for Mara, tucking her under his arm. After all this, he would rather never see another man's hands on her in any fashion.

"He wasn't just a casualty," Logan said. "Was he in on this?"

The agent shook his head and turned, then went to the back of the plastic-sheet room. “No, any information he had was fed by Powell, but if I hadn’t shot Weston we would all have died today.” He flicked out a knife and slashed a long tear in the plastic sheeting for them to exit through, then pulled the flapping sheet aside. He looked through before motioning them to him. “Powell can’t know I’m not with him. Not yet.”

Logan moved them toward the opening, cautiously, pausing by the other man, their unexpected savior. The other man only looked up at him wryly and gave Logan a shake of his head. "Weston might not have known what was going on here, but remember, no one in Washington is good."

"
MacKall
?" Logan asked.

The spy shook his head. "Don't know."

Mara gave him a tug, and Logan stepped through with her, into the bright light of day, shielding his eyes. Logan blinked rapidly. A surge of weakness hit him, and he rested some of his weight on her. He looked back over his shoulder, to offer thanks to the man who let them go, but the other agent was gone.
.

Chapter Twenty-Two

1100 hours, Monday, two weeks later

Somewhere in the Maldives

Logan padded down the white Maldivian beach, leaving a trail of footprints back to the palm Mara waited under in the shade. She rose at his approach and dusted sand from her backside.

"Did you find him where the concierge said he would be?" she asked.

Logan glanced over his shoulder in the direction of Jericho and his family. He nodded. "Hate to disturb him like this."

Mara came around his front to run her hands around his sides to his back, under the open island shirt, but carefully away from his wounds. She laid her cheek against his chest, and he wrapped his arms around her. Logan dipped to plant a kiss to her dark hair.

He wasn’t sure of much in his world anymore, but one thing was for certain—he was never letting Mara go again. It was a hard lesson he wished to hell and back he hadn’t needed.

She had proved she could handle his darkness, his world of shadows.

He squeezed her a little tighter and turned when he sensed a presence at his back.

Jericho tilted his head, looking between them. "What are you doing here?" he asked in surprise at seeing Mara at Logan's side.

"I need your help. Conyers is dead, and there is a key to a deadly bomb out there somewhere—and our buddy
MacKall
was the last person with it. He's in the wind now."

Jericho's eyes narrowed. "
MacKall
? When did this happen?"

"Just a few weeks ago." Logan began to go over everything that had happened, stopping momentarily when a pretty blonde in a bright blue bikini walked over with a baby on her hip. He swallowed hard at the image, at the feelings the sight of Chloe and Jericho's child produced, and he glanced back at Mara. Of course, she was staring at the baby, and that made him nervous as hell.

"
MacKall
went after a woman Conyers was looking for, Marissa
Volkova
. He was supposed to take the microchip to Weston first, but somehow didn’t make it." Logan shook his head and looked to Mara. He took her hand in his. "We found out that Marissa
Volkova
is the daughter of an old world Russian chemist, Alexei
Volkov
. Conyers mentioned him to Mara. He's no doubt the next step in this scheme."

"So, they want to threaten the father with his daughter?" Jericho asked, scowling. "To get him to do what they need?"

Logan nodded. "Conyers wasn't the ultimate bad guy here. This is much bigger than I thought. Jonas Powell was Conyers's contact, and he’s the reason Weston is dead. There's no telling who else is involved. As far as I could discern, they plan to overthrow the US government after a terrorist attack. If we can find and keep their chemist from making the bomb, we could stall their plan long enough to get all this intel into the right hands. But first, we need to find
MacKall
and Marissa
Volkova
."

Jericho blew out a breath and raked a hand over his head. "Damn," he said.

Chloe turned a chastising look at him and glanced down at the baby.

"I hate to ask this of you, but I've learned better than to go without help when it's available. You in?" Logan asked.

Jericho and Chloe stared at one another a long moment before Chloe nodded for Jericho.

"We owe them everything, remember? We wouldn’t be alive if it wasn’t for what Logan did." She glanced to Mara with a sunny smile. "
And
it would be nice to have another woman around for once."

Jericho met Logan's stare and reached out to take his hand. "I'm in. Let's go get our brother back."

****

Later that night, Mara stood leaning against the railing of the over-water bungalow, listening as waves lapped at the underside of the pier. She was thankful for a peaceful moment after the last hellish few weeks.

Silently, Logan walked up behind her, startling her as he moved her hair away to kiss her neck, his fingers trailing over her back where the deep V of her dress left her skin exposed. She turned her head to offer him her lips instead.

As he kissed her, his rough touch on her fingers startled her more. She pulled back to look down. Logan pushed the small gold band into place on her ring finger.

"Until I can make you Mrs.
Cahil
again."

Mara sucked in a hard breath as she turned in his arms to reach around his neck, and then kissed him deeply. Logan lifted her against him.

"I love you, Logan," she said when she broke away and slid back down his body.

He cupped her face in his hands. "I never stopped loving you." He gave her a gentle kiss, growling against her mouth, maneuvering her body around to ease her back inside the bungalow where he much preferred her.

Her lips left his with a smooching sound. "Logan?"

"
Mmm
?" He claimed her mouth again and reached behind him to slide the door shut. When it closed, he gave her a rough shove back onto the bed.

Mara winced. The wound on her shoulder still pained her, but the man quickly removing his clothing, throwing it all to the floor before he fell to his knees on the bed and started over her, was a balm to make her forget.

Logan's eyes seared a path down her, as if he were perusing a buffet and deciding where to start. With his eyes, he pinned the crevice at the apex of her thighs and reached down to flick the soft end of her dress up.

A devilish grin spread on his lips at the sight of her panties as his fingers trailed over her legs. Still on his knees, he pressed her legs apart, gripped her thighs just above her knees and yanked her to him.

"Logan," Mara gasped, her back sliding against the soft bedding.

But he didn’t stop. He pulled her panties aside and pressed into her.

Mara tilted her head back on a moan, running her hands up over his shoulder and through his hair. He filled her completely, moving gently as he peeled the top of her dress away.

"Tell me, what is your ex-boss's name?" he asked.

Mara blinked up at the bamboo ceiling and the large palm leaf shaped fan. It rotated above them several times before she turned her head to him and reached to lift him from her breasts, holding his face between her hands.

"What?" she asked.

Logan momentarily stopped moving. "I have unfinished business with him, for what he did."

Mara frowned. "We are not discussing my ex-boss while you fuck me, Logan." She pulled his face to hers and kissed him, ignoring the growl she received.

"Later," he said against her mouth. "We will."

"Uh-uh." Mara broke away, wrapping her arms around his shoulders and her legs around his waist. "The only thing that matters now is that we are together. Besides, after the cabin fire, thanks to Aunt Rose, everyone thinks we are dead. Best to keep it that way for now." She paused, giving him a rotation and thrust of her hips. "Continue," she ordered, looking down between them to where their bodies met.

Logan slammed into her, and her head fell back. He took her, riding against her until they were both exhausted.

Later, as Mara pulled herself from the bed and went to turn on the shower, she stopped short at the sound of voices. She frowned and pulled her dress up to cover herself before tiptoeing to the door.

"Gunner got the local on Mara's ex-boss. Want me to give him the go-ahead?" Jericho asked.

She gasped and stuck her head out the door to find Jericho there beside Logan in the doorway.

She blushed, as it was plainly obvious what she and Logan had just finished doing, especially since Logan had the bed sheet wrapped around his hips. Both men froze at the door and looked back at her with matching, innocent stares.

"Really?" she chastised. "You are not killing my ex-boss, so forget it."

Jericho cleared his throat and made a quick escape, ducking back out the door and closing it. Mara dropped her dress and crossed the bedroom with her hands on her hips.

Logan reached up to brush her cheek with the backs of his fingers. "No one hurts you."

She sighed, shaking her head at her warrior, then reached around his middle and rested her cheek against his chest.

"Logan
Cahil
, what am I going to do with you?"

He sighed. "Love me the way I am."

Mara chuckled. "Always have. I don’t know why you ever doubted that I could." She turned and started back to the bathroom, but Logan caught her around the middle. She glanced questioningly around him toward the bathroom, at the sound of the running shower.

Logan grinned and shook his head. "Round two," he said, lifting her, and then tossed her back onto the bed.

The En
d

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