Countdown (17 page)

“Yes?” His voice was soft but strained.

“I can't let it go,” she said. She sucked in a shaky breath. She'd never, ever, told a man she loved him. Never before had she let herself feel so much affection for one person. “I can't let you go.”

His eyes met hers. His mouth sloped into a half smile. His grip tightened around the steering wheel. “So how about we figure out how to survive this?”

She stretched her left hand toward him without shifting in her seat. He grabbed it and squeezed. The truth was, even if he did everything these men wanted him to do, it didn't seem likely they would let them go. Her breathing turned hot as the truth hit her. She needed to be prepared for the worst.

James followed the sedan off of Highway 1 and the air force gate came into view. The buildings were adorned with terra-cotta roofs and surrounded by palm trees. In the center of the beautifully decorated landscape a rocket monument stood with the NASA logo. The side of a rocket and a sliver of the ocean could be seen between the distant hills.

It seemed a shame to come to such a beautiful place only to die.

SEVENTEEN

J
ames approached the gate. The red dot on Rachel's shirt disappeared, and she released a shaky laugh. He never let go of her hand.

The black vehicle in front of him was waved through the gate at record speed, confirming his suspicion that someone in there was a crooked government man. An armed guard walked around the van, peeking in windows. The man at the gate waved them through. The moment the minivan passed the barricade, the navy SUV behind them turned around and drove away without entering.

Rachel breathed a sigh of relief. Unfortunately, James knew they weren't out of danger yet. And his mom...he sucked in a breath. Were they hurting her?

They passed the buildings until they were on a road leading into the hills. “I've only been here once,” he mentioned, trying to remember how long it would take to get to the site. “Just past those hills is the launch site.”

“Don't you have to go to every takeoff?”

“Yes, but I'm stationed at Mission Control, closer to home. This is the Launch Control Center. They hand it off to us the moment the booster clears the tower.” His nerves were rebelling against his calm, cool exterior. His stomach fluttered and his left knee jiggled, trying to help the excess anxiety escape.

His blood ran hot through his veins. He was falling hard for this beautiful, kind, brave woman sitting next to him, and he wasn't sure he'd live to tell her. He had wanted to reciprocate when she had said she couldn't let him go, but he had faltered, his throat choking on the emotion.

They followed the sedan around a bend and pulled to a stop. The two men from the black vehicle opened their doors. Each one held a gun. The driver looked familiar, from the church, but the other one was different.

“Get out,” one man hollered.

James opened the door and stood, only to have the man shove him hard against the car. His elbow connected with the edge of the door frame, searing pain shooting into his shoulder. “That's for not coming quietly the first time.”

Judging by the red welt on the man's wrist, he was referring to the church. “He still needs to be able to type,” the other muttered. “She had a gun in her purse.”

The man in front of James patted him down. He straightened. “Don't have my gun, huh?” He pulled his fist back.

James stiffened his stomach muscles a second before the fist made impact. All the air rushed from his lungs as he buckled.

“We've got eyes on us,” the other gunman said. “The boss is waiting.”

James straightened, sucking in a breath of air. Thankfully his martial arts training had helped him take the punch without injury. It didn't make it painless, though. The man pushed him forward to walk toward the control center.

Rachel limped in front of the car and they were side by side again. Her wide eyes searched his face for signs he was all right. They bumped shoulders and walked forward on the path.

Up the metal stairs, they found themselves in a pristine-white hallway. They passed two elevators that, if memory served right, would've taken them to launch viewing.

“Two doors down to the right,” the gunman uttered. James peeked a look back and realized they'd holstered their guns. The cameras in the hallway may have been responsible for that. So maybe there were members of security that weren't a part of this?

He opened the door and stepped inside first only to see his supervisor, Brian Holland, standing in the room without windows. A small table sat in the middle with one lone laptop and a folding chair. The new gunman stayed outside of the door while the bulky one stood guard on the inside of the door.

“Brian, what's going on? Why would you be behind something like this?”

“I could ask you the same question, James. You could have had a lucrative bonus and promotion if you had come to me instead of pulling this stunt.” He waved at the computer.

“What good would money do me if it launches? The country will be shoved into the 1800s.”

The bulky guard shuffled uneasily.

Brian shrugged. “Not my problem. I'll be long gone in a country far, far away.”

James looked right at the guard. “So, are you the NSA mole? Are you going to be long gone, too? Leave your family here to suffer your actions? What about Derrick? Was that your doing?”

The man jerked forward, but Brian held his hand up. “You're just like your wife. Sticking your nose where it doesn't belong.”

The gravity of his words washed over him. James launched forward. His fist hit Brian squarely in the jaw before he could even process.

Rachel cried out. James spun, his arms up. The guard had her arm twisted behind her back. Her chin up, he could see the pain in her eyes. Her purse dangled from its diagonal hold.

“Let her go!”

“I think you've forgotten what can happen to women you care for,” Brian seethed, his hand rubbing his red jaw. He waved a hand at the man, who released Rachel. She rubbed her elbow and took a giant step away from the man.

James took ragged breaths. His eyes blurred. “Why? Why'd you kill Nikki?”

“Same reason you're here. She threatened to meddle with a very lucrative spy satellite. I told her if she told anyone her family would die. I offered her a promotion. She started taking sick days, and I couldn't trust she'd stay quiet.”

“Why not kill me, too?”

“Oh, I thought about it, but it'd be a little more suspicious if both of you passed away so soon. We watched you. It seemed your wife kept her word about staying quiet. You didn't seem to pose a threat, and you were a valuable member of the team. Now I wished I'd killed you when I had a chance.” He grinned. “But thanks to your wife, we knew it was time to have a helpful NSA agent assigned to us.” He waved at the gunman.

“What have they got on you?” James asked. “Must be big to sell your soul.”

“Shut up,” the agent spat.

James looked up at the ceiling. His boss, his wife's murderer, was standing in front of him, and he could do nothing.

Brian pointed at the desk. “You have an hour to repair what you've done, or the women start feeling the consequences.” He walked to the door. “The moment he's done, get hold of me.”

Rachel's eyes met James's. She nodded, her eyes soft.

James sighed and sat down on the metal folding chair. He typed his remote access into the laptop, and this time it worked. An hour was going to be cutting it close to undo all his work. It had been a masterpiece of programming that'd taken him eight hours solid. To destroy it without faulting the rest of the system would be difficult. “I'll be able to work a lot faster if we had water, and I wasn't worried about her comfort.”

The gunman scowled. “Just start working.” He knocked on the door. It opened slightly and the man stuck his head out. “Water and another chair,” he said to the other guard.

It was tempting to rush the man, but the empty room amplified every move he made, especially while sitting on a metal folding chair. And, the man's gun was on the other side of his jacket, farthest from his reach.

Rachel opened her mouth, as if ready to whisper something to James, but the guard was back inside already. James set back to work. His fingers flew through his more native language as he typed the Linux code to retrieve and change his processes until they were rendered ineffective.

Before long the rest of the world disappeared. Out of the blue when he typed “target file,” his chest constricted. His wife had been a target. The clock at the top of the screen told him he only had minutes to spare. The hour had passed by too quickly.

He pressed forward, typing the next commands. “Process.” Something he didn't have time to do. Then “kill” followed by the parameters and then “kill all” and “execute.” He couldn't breathe. He leaned back in the chair, the words a blur in front of him. She'd stayed quiet to protect him. She'd died for him, for them. Unshed tears choked his throat.

“James,” Rachel said softly. She leaned forward and placed a hand on his shoulder. “I'm so sorry. It's a lot to take in.” She glanced at the screen. “Coding is a violent language.”

He coughed. “Yes.”

“Get it done,” the man shouted.

He set the system to reboot, but hesitated to tell the guard anything. He needed time to think. How could they get out of this situation? How could he make sure that Nikki's sacrifice wasn't in vain? That he would still live to raise their children? How could he save Rachel and his mom?

The computer screen flashed that the changes had been saved and complete.

“Out of time,” the man said, approaching.

That was what James was afraid of.

* * *

Rachel watched the NSA agent approach.

“Did you finish?” the man grunted.

James nodded mutely.

The man pressed a few buttons on his phone. “Yeah. Test it?” he asked into the phone. He stared down at James. “Good. You can shut down his access.” He hung up. “Look's like you did your job. Get up.”

“Wait. Release my mom and Rachel now.”

“That's not how this works.” He gestured for Rachel to go first toward the door. The man stood sideways, watching them both. He reached for the door handle when Rachel's waist vibrated.

He shoved her against the wall so fast she couldn't brace herself for impact. The air rushed out of her lungs. The back of her head slammed against the drywall, bouncing forward. Her chin hit the man's forearm, pressed into her collarbone. She gasped, trying to fill her lungs. His rough hands pulled the phone from inside the thick waistband she'd hidden it.

“‘Threat removed,'” he read. He shook the phone in her face with his right hand. “What's this supposed to mean?”

Rachel inhaled again, trying to ignore the pain. “That his mom is safe,” she said, her eyes darting to James.

The man turned to follow her gaze as she slammed her knee in between his legs. He jerked backward, but the self-defense move only seemed to make him angrier. Before she could react, James landed a blow to the side of the man's face.

The man stumbled backward, reaching for his holster. Rachel whipped her foot at his hand. The moment it made contact she cried out as it put too much pressure on her injured ankle. Her leg almost gave out.

James jumped him, twisting back the hand that reached for the gun. Rachel grabbed the weapon from the holster and stumbled back into the door just as it was opening.

“What's going—” The second guard opened the door with his gun raised. Rachel pressed her gun into the back of his neck and shoved him forward. She maneuvered quickly, barely catching the open door with her hip. “Drop it,” she said.

James had the other man on the ground as the second guy dropped his gun. Rachel kicked it away with her good foot. “Now lie down on the ground.”

James ran for the kicked gun and pointed it at the first guard who was already up on one knee.

“Stay back.” He made his way to Rachel. He held the door open with one hand, moving their way backward into the hallway. He grabbed the door handle and shoved it closed at the last second.

He took off down the hallway, making sure she was keeping up with him. “I wasn't going to be a match for that guy, or I would've grabbed their phones. They won't be detained for long.” He grabbed her hand and pulled her along faster down the hall. “You were brilliant. How'd you know my mom was safe?”

She pumped her arms, trying to ignore the throbbing in her ankle. “I didn't want to get your hopes up. I texted your dad and David...and Cynthia.”

“I could kiss you.” He flashed that half smile that made her want to swoon.

She tried to laugh it off as her neck tingled with the thought. “Too bad we're running for our lives.”

“I didn't leave empty-handed.” He waved a laminated badge at Rachel with a smirk. “I think this is our ticket out of here.”

He slid the badge across a reader next to the stairway door. It beeped and opened. She hobbled after him. Her ankle smarted again, but she wouldn't let it slow her down. “James?” She reached for his arm. “Can you stop the launch?”

He nodded. “I think so, but I want you out of danger.”

“We won't go too long running through Launch Control with guns before someone helpful finds us. I don't think they're all crooked.”

“Let's hope you're right.” He surprised her by taking the stairs two at a time...going up.

“Why up?” She panted, two steps behind him.

“It's where the server room is.” He stopped at the next door, his hand on the handle. “Let's stop this launch.”

The door below them slammed. One of the gunmen must have already gotten out. James threw an arm around Rachel's waist and helped her speed down an identical hallway until he got to an unlabeled door. He swiped the badge, it beeped, and they stepped inside. Without a window, she couldn't tell how close the gunmen were to following them.

The hum of the room almost overwhelmed her. Electronics lined the entire room.

James pressed what looked like a flat rack of monitors and a laptop popped out. “How about you get us that attention we want?” He gestured his head toward the ceiling where a black orb hung, a security camera.

She waved her gun at it like a crazy woman. “If that doesn't get someone's attention I don't know what will.” She looked over her shoulder. “How can you get in without remote access?”

“This room isn't remote. It's live. I can shut this baby down in real time.” The sounds the keyboard made sounded like rapid gunfire. Someone shouted, followed by thumps and thuds in the hallway. Rachel moved to stand in front of James and pointed her gun at the door.

“What do you think you're doing?”

“Guarding you so you can get it done,” she said.

“I'm not letting another woman I love die for me.” The door flung open. James's left arm swung out in front of her, throwing her backward as he jumped in front to face the gunman in the doorway.