SEALs of Honor: Dane (2 page)

Not that anyone would listen.

Still, if the opportunity presented itself, she’d find out what Michaels wanted – and what he was up to – if she could.

As she turned around to head back into the garden, unable to forget what was going on beside her, the phone rang. There he was. She smiled. “Hi, Professor. Where are you?”

“I’m coming over,” Professor Michaels said. “You up and awake?”

“I’m both.” She glanced out the window for the dozenth time to stare at the house beside her. “When?”

“I’m here already,” he said. “I’m outside and walking toward the front door.”

The house was huge, so it took a moment to reach the front window and look out. He was indeed coming her way – and he’d been coming from the direction of the house beside her.

The house where the intruder had jumped over the wall into the back yard.

Odd. Then maybe he’d come from the house on the far side. But at least now she could tell him what she’d seen, if he didn’t already know. As she watched him sneak a look behind him and quicken his pace, she wondered just what the hell was going on.

She opened the front door for him.

His face lit up. “Marielle,” he called out. “How good to see you.”

He rushed inside and closed the door. “How are you?”

All the right words were coming out but the tone was off. Too forced. Too fast. Too jovial. And his eyes swelled as if searching the room around her.

“I’m fine,” she said, studying him careful. “What’s going on?”

His feigned surprise finished setting off her bullshit meter. “Nothing at all.” He motioned at the house next door. “There just appeared to be some odd goings on over there.”

“I thought that was your house,” she said, quietly walking back to the kitchen to retrieve her coffee cup.

“No, not at all. I’m several houses over,” he said glibly. Too smooth. And that information didn’t jibe with the information she knew already. In fact, it was just different enough, she wondered why he was lying.

“Never mind all that,” he said, giving her a big smile. “The real question is how are you? You’ve been working too hard again, haven’t you?”

She laughed. “I always work hard, you know that.”

“I do indeed. And you get paid such lousy wages. I do want to talk to you about an exciting opportunity here if you’re interested, and I do hope you are,” he said earnestly. “I’ve been watching your career for years now.”

“I’m not sure I’m ready for anything different,” she said with a small smile, her heart sinking as he confirmed her suspicion. She hadn’t needed to make the trip for a job proposition. “You know how much I love my life in California.”

“Ah, sorry your engagement didn’t work out – do you have a new boyfriend by now?”

She shook her head. “Single and happy that way, thanks.”

“So there’s nothing to keep you in California then, is there?” he said, an overly bright smile on his face, his arms moving in such an expansive motion she had to laugh.

“Well, my mother for one, and I have a job and my Ph.D. is in progress. So moving is out of the question right now.”

He chuckled. “Nothing is ever out of the question.” He motioned to her coffee, “I don’t suppose you have more of that, do you? It’s been a bit of a rough morning.”

“Oh, I’m sorry.” She walked to the far counter where the very modern coffeemaker sat on the very old looking but restored countertop. “I seem to have forgotten my manners.” She poured him a cup and turned to hand it to him.

And dropped it.

She stared at the gun in the professor’s hand.

“What are you doing?” she asked in a hoarse whisper.

“Taking care of business. Not my usual style and pretty poor timing,” he said. “But you weren’t supposed to see this morning’s incident next door – yes it’s my house, but I escaped and now that I have you here, I get to really see your research. I’m so glad you came, my dear.”

She shook her head. “What are you talking about? I didn’t bring my research. I came to discuss it with you, but of course I don’t have it with me.”

“Not a problem, the company I work for is making arrangements to get hold of it as we speak.”

What? “I thought you worked for ChemTech?”

“Oh, I did. Technically I worked for two companies at the same time. I stole secrets from ChemTech until I gained the information my current employer needed. Now I work exclusively for the one. A company whose name I won’t be sharing until you are with them. Tenesco has been good for you but they aren’t your future. Come to my company. You’ll work for me. They have big plans.”

Blindly she reached behind her for the cloth to clean up the mess on the floor. She crouched down, trying to think, but fear choked her throat. And his words reverberated in her head. Her work was being picked up? How was that possible? It should be locked down on the server, except for the copy she kept for herself.

She shook her head. All she’d wanted was to discuss her work and some down time. Lord, how did this shit happen?

“Do you even live next door?” she asked as she worked to clean up the spill. “It’s such a beautiful looking house.”

“Of course it is,” he snapped. “That house has been in my family for hundreds of years.”

Figured.

“Forget the damn floor,” he snapped. “I need you to grab your luggage and anything you might have had time to unpack so we can leave the house as if you were never here.”

The gun tilted her way slightly. “I’m going to follow you to make sure you can follow instructions. As I said, it’s been a rough morning already – please don’t do anything stupid.”

She slowly straightened, her gaze on the man who looked a little more unraveled than he had a few minutes ago, yet at the same time appeared to be a little more in control with that gun in his hand. It had been wavering but was now locked down on her.

Nice. Not.

What happened to the man she’d known for years? She barely recognized him right now.

She snatched up her coffee and turned to go to the bedroom. In truth she hadn’t unpacked her belongings yet. She was an ultra-light traveller and had hoped to shop while here and fill out her wardrobe if necessary – and she’d hoped it was. She loved to shop in other locations as the fashions were so different. Wearing the clothes after she returned always made her smile.

It was short work to collect her things.

He followed her at a safe distance, not giving her an opportunity to get a message out to anyone or to leave any behind. She couldn’t stop thinking about the man in the garden. Was he still here? Would he hear if she screamed? She realized her shady professor had to be part of what was going on next door – had they realized he’d escaped? Or did they not know of his existence? Who knew what had sent them to the house in the first place. But if they did know of him, then they’d be hunting him now. Surely a man capable of vaulting that huge wall was capable of tracking this man to her house. But would he do it in time to help her?

As she carried her single bag back downstairs, she contemplated her limited options.

“Let’s go,” he snapped.

Damn. Her time had run out.

He motioned her to the front door. She nodded and opened it.

Bag over her shoulder, she jerked the door shut on his hand.

*

D
ANE HAD SEARCHED
the house – to find it empty. The owner had escaped somehow, even though all exits had been covered. They’d been waiting for hours for the right moment to move in. What the hell had happened?

The light had gone out last night showing the occupant had gone to bed on time. And they’d seen him arrive earlier. No one had gone in or out since.

“It’s on a timer,” Shadow, the quietest member of their team, said, holding up the light in question in his hand. Sometimes his actions were so invisible he was almost ghostly. “Right house but no one home.”

“Yet set to look like someone is home,” Swede, the giant beside him, said. “It’s an old house, any chance there is a secret entrance?”

“In these old farmhouses, quite possibly. Mason and Hawk are searching the lower levels.”

“Shit.”

Swede stared around the too clean room in disgust. “I wonder if Michaels ever lived here.”

“According to our intel he was seen coming and going on a regular basis for the last year.”

“Then where the hell is he?” Swede muttered. “This is bullshit.”

Dane understood how he felt. So much time and work went into an operation like this. This was just one leg of a bigger operation. They needed this guy to find those behind it all. Dane walked to the office. He’d done one sweep through there already but figured a second wouldn’t hurt.

Someone pounded at the front door.

Dane and Swede melted into the background. The door burst open and the stunning blonde from next door raced in, a small overnight bag and purse over shoulder, crying out, “Help, is someone here?”

She ran past Dane. He grabbed her and dragged her into the office, his hand slapping across her mouth. She dropped her bags. Swede covered the open door.

“Mffmph.” Huge scared eyes stared at him.

“Quiet…” he narrowed his gaze at her. “Do you understand?”

Her hands were jammed up against his chest and she could barely move, but he watched her head nod. “Good. Now what the hell are you doing here?”

In a clear concise voice she explained what had happened. Dane was already on the move even as he tried to understand why a beautiful young woman would run to an obviously dangerous man when she was in trouble. It was counter intuitive. When he whispered that question to her, her gaze was clear, her tone concise as she explained, “I figured you were the more dangerous and might save me from him.”

He shot her a disbelieving look while he moved toward the front door, Swede following into step beside him. “Like that makes any sense,” Dane snapped. “You’re then stuck in the clutches of the more dangerous man.”

“True,” she replied calmly. “But
you
won’t hurt me.”

Both Dane and Swede studied her face for a long moment. Dane said, “Stay here.” And they bolted out the door after her crazy professor.

“Besides,” she called after them. “It worked.”

Chapter 3

S
HE SAT DOWN
in the chair at the front entrance, an old Victorian red velvet looking thing, and stared at her trembling hands. She wasn’t out of danger yet. And until the professor had been caught, she wasn’t likely ever to be. How had a simple intellectual holiday turned into this shit? If Michaels had been trying to get her to work for the same company he was, then why the gun? What was he mixed up in? Was it just research they wanted? And if so, who was the company he worked for? Or was it a shadow company pulling these strings from behind? She had no idea what kind of chaos he was involved in. And was her research being stolen right now? How could she stop it from happening? Or as he’d implied, was it already too late? She had copies herself but hated to think that all the years of her hard work had fallen into the wrong hands…

How was it she hadn’t seen this side of him before? And if the men hadn’t pulled this raid on his house this morning, would she have seen it today? Would he have remained kind and courteous and probed to see how far her research had taken her? Would he have made a move then?

And what was with these military men in the professor’s house? They were Americans, she was sure from the look of them and their accents, but she could be wrong, she was a chemical specialist not a linguistics expert. Then again would Americans be involved in a raid here in Germany? Maybe with a joint task force?

She was grateful they were here because by doing what they’d done, they’d forced the professor to show his hand and thus saved her.

She really did owe them her thanks.

At the same time, her gaze landed on an open door beside her. It looked like an office, probably Professor Michaels’ office. Should she look? She had no business looking – really, but after the professor’s actions… Curious and perturbed, particularly after the morning events, she entered the office and she opened drawers and cabinets, looking for clues as to what had been going on.

Everything was empty.

How was that possible? Unless the house was a front. She frowned considering the size of it. That was a very elaborate front then. She leaned against the wall full of books, her gaze caught on something odd. The wall wasn’t symmetrical. The one she was leaning against was too close.

That triggered a memory from a class she’d attended where Professor Michaels laughed about the old house he inherited with secret rooms. It had been used to hide Jews during World War II. Was it this house?

She turned to study the wall.

There were a series of bookends that looked possible. She started pulling, tugging and generally moving anything moveable to find a mechanism to open a hidden door.

The last bookend made a creaking sound and shuffled under her grasp.

“Ah hah.” She gasped as the bookshelf opened to show another room. This one, a well-used office.

“Well, isn’t this interesting.”

She spun around to see two more men dressed in black, the same as the first men, suspicion on their faces. She flushed. “Sorry. I couldn’t resist looking for a secret room.”

“Really?” the first man snapped. “Who the hell are you, and why would you even consider that there’d be a secret room?”

“Oh,” she said, realizing they didn’t know anything. She filled them in on her morning, another two men arriving midway through her explanation. The big blond she’d met outside shifted past the other men and moved into the secret room. “What else did he say in that class?” he asked.

“I’ve been trying to remember but my memory is sketchy. I know he said the house was full of secrets.”

At a glance behind her to the others, he made a motion and everyone scattered. “We’ll have to see what we can find.”

He turned to look at the well-used office space she’d found and added, “This is a great place to start.”

“I can help,” she said, walking to the desk. “What are you looking for?”

“Anything…” but his voice was odd.