Body Double (12 page)

Brainwashing? Amanda recalled a security briefing about
a new laser technology that destroyed neuron firings in the brain, which destroyed memory paths. This was technologically possible. The use intended had been to help trauma victims, but corrupted, it could be used to destroy healthy, unwanted memory. “If there are hundreds of doubles, Kunz can’t go around killing off spouses and everyone tied to all of them to protect against exposure.”

“Many of us don’t have spouses or anyone tied to us. You and I don’t have spouses.”

His point hit her. “He’s targeting loners. Only going for operatives with spouses or significant others when he must have them in position.”

“Reasonable conclusion in my opinion.”

One thing was patently clear. Kunz had resources and the ability to carry out high-level, extremely sensitive and difficult maneuvers. Stopping him wasn’t going to be easy. He had far too much to lose.

She couldn’t help but shiver. “You ready to get out of here?”

“Yeah. We can do what we need to do outside. But we’ll have to move fast or Kunz will go underground and take all the detainees with him.”

“We’re not leaving them here.” Harry could be one of them—if Kunz hadn’t killed his ornery ass.

Mark softened his tone. “We can’t rescue everyone, Amanda.”

“How many detainees are on-site?”

“Shh!” Mark shoved Amanda toward the trees. “Look.”

Amanda dived onto her belly, burrowed under a clump of some spiny, sour-smelling bush and watched the light on a golf cart shine on the ground. “Is this routine?”

“Not according to Joan.” Mark peeked out from between thorny branches. “The course is typically deserted at night.”

“Damn it.” Amanda resisted the urge to grind her teeth. “They’re looking for me.”

“Meet me back here at 3:00 a.m.,” Mark said. “We don’t have much time. Kunz oversees Joan’s work. She’ll have to put me through the paces. We have two days at most.”

“We have less than twelve hours,” she corrected him. “Kunz gave me twenty-four hours to agree to train doubles as S.A.S.S. operatives or die. And that was ten hours ago. I could swear on my mother’s grave I’d train doubles, but he’d know I was lying. He’s going to kill me, Mark.”

“He just inserted your double. He’s going to make sure she doesn’t hit a brick wall first.”

“I’m not willing to bet my life on it,” she said. “I pissed him off, taking down his guards. He knows I’m going to be a thorn in his side, and he doesn’t want the bother.”

“Then we’d better move fast.” Mark thumbed her chin. “I’m not ready to lose you just yet,” he said, then slithered on his stomach across the course and disappeared in the darkness.

He hadn’t had her yet, but Amanda knew what he meant. They connected. It was special. And she wasn’t ready to forfeit that connection, either.

The light swept closer. She considered just standing up and walking back to the apartment, but if she did, Kunz’s men would watch her like a hawk every minute. She had to get back without being discovered, to have the freedom to meet Mark later.

The light came closer, shone directly on her. Flat on the ground, her hands buried under her chest, she resembled a small black lump and nothing more.
Come on, light. Be too weak to expose me. Be too weak!

“Whoa. Back up.” Beefy’s voice carried across the course. “Over there.”

Amanda’s heart nearly stopped. Her pulse thrummed in her head and she broke into a cold sweat. The light crossed over her back, just above her, and shone into the trees. A raccoon
scurried through the grass, dodged behind a tree, hiding from the light.

“It’s just a raccoon, man. I’m telling you, Frank said she’s lights out in her bed. Why are you so paranoid about her?”

“She broke my freaking nose. She took down three of us, stole a car, nearly stole a chopper, and you’re asking why I’m paranoid? Why are you stupid? She’s going to try to escape. It’s just a matter of when.”

“So what if she does?” the second man countered.

“Mr. Kunz will kill us, you idiot.”

“Try to keep up, okay? Say she escapes. Where’s she gonna go? We’re two hundred miles out in the middle of nowhere. Even she can’t hike two hundred miles across desertlike land, man. Not unless she’s got superpowers.” He chuckled. “Does she have superpowers?”

Beefy belted the guy, and he fell out of the cart and onto the ground. He got up madder than hell and took a swing at Beefy. In seconds, the two were tumbling on the ground to the sounds of fists hitting flesh, breaths swooshing and bones crunching.

Amanda knew an opening when she saw one, and took it.

At 2:45 a.m., Amanda made a production of turning on her bedside lamp to catch the guard’s attention outside. In front of the window, she slung on her robe, walked to the bath and flipped on the light. She doubled back to the bedroom and checked the window to see if the guard had noticed.

Gaston stood on the sidewalk just outside the shimmering rim of light from the street lamp, staring up at the bathroom window. Definitely watching.

She turned the bathroom light off, again in front of the window, took off her robe, then turned off the bedside lamp and waited.

Still dressed in concealing black, she pulled on her shoes,
then snagged the scarf and shielded her hair and face. Ready to go, she checked the window. Gaston had gotten comfortable on the ground under the tree.

Leaving once again through the bathroom window, she made her way back to the golf course, then to the safe zone at the seventh hole.

Mark stood waiting for her. “We only have about fifteen minutes before they come through to do a bed check.” He shifted from one foot to another. “Have you done reconnaissance and developed a plan yet?”

“Not yet. Kunz kept me pretty guarded most of the day,” she said, inhaling Mark’s familiar scent. It steadied her and she wondered why. She’d faced formidable odds a million times on her own. Why did his scent have this soothing effect on her? Why did he?

She’d like to believe it was merely hormonal; a physical reaction to a virile man with a compassionate heart was acceptable. But the truth, like it or not, was that damn intimate bond intrigued and lured her. It was new and different and odd and terrifying and wonderful and coveted and hated all at once. She should just set her mind to hating it, keep a healthy fear of it, and shove it off. But she didn’t. Couldn’t. It tugged at her. At something significant she’d longed for as a child and had never had, and only now, with him, did she realize the true worth of what she’d been missing. That, plainly put, was irresistible.

“I’ll take care of it once you go back for the bed check,” Amanda continued. “Joan will relay the plan to you and any specifics I think will be of help. I’ll check out the best means of retrieving Simon.”

“And if I spot any gaps or loose ends, I’ll relay them back to you through Joan,” Mark agreed.

Amanda nodded. “Have you seen a guy named Harry?”

“He approached me earlier today, wanting to know if I’d seen you.”

Relief washed through Amanda. “I thought he might be dead. His replacement said he’d been shot down over Iraq.” A thought confused her. “Mark, if he’s dead in his identity with the CIA, then why is Kunz keeping the real Harry alive?”

“He’s an instructor pilot and a CIA operative. Training doubles?”

That made sense. “Okay. Can you still fly helicopters?”

“Yeah. I’ll take care of jamming the surveillance, too. Joan says that Simon’s located the master control room. It’s just off the fairway near the second hole. He’s created a loop feed of film to play through the surveillance system so our actions are concealed from the monitors as long as possible. That’ll give us a little cover, trying to get out of here.” Worry scudded across Mark’s face. “Provided the guards don’t immediately recognize they’re looking at film and not at live shots. I have no idea of the quality of Simon’s work.”

“Considering his family’s lives are on the line, I’d be willing to bet it’s the best work of his life.”

“Your mouth to God’s ears.”

She disclosed the location of the choppers and then added, “I’ll liberate Simon and Harry and whomever else possible. We can fit eight in the chopper. Any others will have to make a run off the compound and hunker down until we can get help back for them.”

“You hate leaving anyone.”

God did she. “It could be us, Mark.”

“Yes.” He didn’t flinch. “But this is national security, and that’s every American. Considering we feed half the world, it’s even more.”

“I know, but still…”

He thumbed her chin, looked her straight in the eye. “We have no choice.”

Blinking hard, she pulled in a steadying breath. “I know. But I don’t have to like it.”

“No, you don’t,” he agreed. “Neither do I. We just have to do it.”

“Sometimes I really hate my job.”

“Sometimes you’re supposed to hate it.”

She nodded, a hole spearing into her stomach at having to choose who stayed and who went. “You know those left behind will probably be dead before Rescue can get here.”

Again, Mark held her gaze and didn’t flinch. But his voice dropped rough and ragged. “Yes, I know.”

They shared a look of painful resignation, and that bond strengthened yet again. Amanda stepped back and cleared her throat. “You be ready to jam that surveillance, run the loop feed and snag the chopper.”

“Check. Don’t worry. I’ll be prepared. Joan’s covering, giving me time to do some reconnaissance.” He started to turn away and stopped, his eyes narrowed, worried. “Amanda?”

“Yes?”

“You have a double. From what Simon and Joan have said, it’s virtually impossible to tell the real thing from the double. How do I know I’m really dealing with you?”

She pretended not to feel a little stab of personal pain that their connection didn’t make it evident. But the truth was, men were historically less intuitive than women and he had a reasonable point. She thought a moment, then said, “Use standard operating procedure.” That’s why they had a code phrase. He knew that.

“Of course.” Mark stroked her face, but he didn’t whisper the phrase.

She paused. “You could have a double, too.”

“I could,” he confessed. “But I haven’t seen or heard anything about one.”

His three-month absence had occurred long before hers. Joan had only been here six months—nearly six months after Mark had been released—but she was going to start working
with him now to get the information from him that Kunz and Reese needed to train a double. If they already had a double in place, they would have the information. “Maybe you don’t have one—at least, not yet.” But why wouldn’t he? There would have to be a reason. Maybe faking his security level being lowered and his no longer being a member of Delta Force had quashed Kunz’s interest in doubling Mark. Maybe he had no use for a lead investigator. Or—the phones in Mark’s office were being bugged—maybe Kunz already had one. Both possible and, unfortunately, probable.

He brushed her cheek with a light kiss. “When do we meet here again?”

She inhaled deeply, savoring his scent to carry with her. “Let’s touch base here at 10 p.m. and finalize any details, then take it from there.” The plan would have to develop and process faster than she would like, but they just couldn’t risk taking more time. As it was, she was going to have to delay Kunz beyond his twenty-four-hour deadline.

Nodding, Mark backed away from her. “I’ll look for you in plain sight.”

Amanda looked back at him; saw her worry and fear reflected in his eyes. “In plain sight.”

As he moved away from her, her thoughts turned horrific. This mission contained too damn many variables and too few iron-clad answers. Doubles could be inserted all over the place—including Joan or even Jeremy. Kunz wouldn’t refuse to use him just because he was a kid.

He’d stolen all of their lives. And that he had succeeded was chilling.

Mark’s scent lingered on Amanda’s skin. It reminded her of the stakes and helped her focus, which half irritated and half relieved her, but she couldn’t honestly say which emotion she felt strongest or appreciated most. The idea of need
ing someone else had her bristling and edgy. That it was Mark, and that her head kept telling her she hadn’t known him long enough to feel so strongly about him, had her irked. But her heart didn’t seem to care what she thought about logic or intellect. It seemed it didn’t care about her aversion to needing anyone else, either. Hell, it didn’t even seem to care about anything she’d lived and breathed and believed inviolate for decades.

And that rattled her to the bone.

Maybe—she cut through a copse of mesquite trees hugging the edge of the course and left it near the second fairway—
needing
wasn’t the right word.
Want.
Yes,
wanting
him fit better. She could deal with
want.
If the way he presented himself was real and not some act put on to sucker her in.

Two guards walked the perimeter of the cabins. She ducked down near one of the spiny bushes that smelled sour and watched the guards move through their routine. They crossed paths at the end of the row of cabins and worked from row to row. There were three rows of seven cabins in this area. She’d passed two other areas, though both had appeared to be deserted.

Mark had been right. They couldn’t rescue everyone at once.

A third guard stepped out of the door of the last cabin on the row, sweeping the area with his flashlight. Amanda felt the light on her face and froze.
Damn it!

He pulled out his gun, walked over and stopped out of her reach. “Come out, Amanda. Now.”

She darted her gaze to the other two guards, her heart pumping hard and fast against her ribs. Both were four rows over, continuing their grid walk. When they crossed at the end of the fourth row, made the corner then took off down the fifth row, she scooted out from under the bush, pulled herself to her feet and stumbled into the guard, knocking him off bal
ance. “Sorry.” She shouldered his ribs, pushed his gun away from her, barrel up, skyward. With a flick of her wrist, she knocked the gun from his hand and turned. He caught her with a left hook on the jaw that set her ears to ringing. She kicked, slammed her foot into his stomach, twisted, captured him in a headlock and snapped his neck.