Covert Evidence (41 page)

“That much, huh? Sweet.” He nuzzled her neck, then met her gaze. “Very sweet.” His chin brushed the chain of the evil eye pendant, and she stiffened. This was where everything went wrong the first time.

He shook his head. “Don’t worry, honey. I’m going to stick around for the long haul. Promise.”

She nodded.

“We should probably get some sleep. We’ve got a busy day when we land in DC. Or evening. Or night. Honestly, I’ve lost track.”

“Me too. I’m not even certain I could name the day of the week if you asked me.”

“Eh, knowing days of the week is overrated.”

She smiled and nibbled on his chin, fighting the words
I love you
that burned to be said. She couldn’t take the risk, couldn’t say them first—not again. What if she did and he didn’t say them back to her?

Chapter Thirty-Nine

T
hey slept entwined, something Ian had never enjoyed until now. But then, he had a feeling he’d enjoy a lot of things with Cressida that had never been pleasurable before.

He’d probably never know what brought him to the cabin door and gave him the courage to step inside. Maybe it was Sean, calling him an ass for hesitating. Maybe it was talking to the one married operative who somehow made the lifestyle work, or the hardened, lonely operative who gave Ian a glimpse of where he’d be in another ten years. It might have been the thought of Cressida moving on with her life, while he spent the rest of his regretting the decision to let her go.

Regardless of the trigger, entering the cabin had been an impulse, without a clear plan. He just…
wanted
, and was tired of getting in his own way. Tired of denying himself.

She slept soundly in his arms, and once again he watched her. He smiled, knowing she’d accuse him of being creepy, but couldn’t help it. This sleep was different from the other times he’d watched. This time she was sated. Tousled. Beautifully fucked.

He was a lucky man.

He toyed with the idea of kissing her awake. He wouldn’t mind getting lucky again. But she needed to sleep. They were only a few hours out, and all hell could break loose at the other side.

All the more reason to make love with her again. And again.

She made a soft sound and rolled over, and he gave up on the idea. She hadn’t been able to sleep deeply when they were on the run, and she lacked his training.

He pulled Cressida tightly against his side, forced himself to close his eyes and let his guard down. It was time for him to sleep too.

P
ounding woke Ian. Sharp, urgent jabs on the door. He bolted up and reached for his gun, as he always did when yanked from sleep. But he didn’t have a gun.

Sean had insisted Ian surrender his weapon before he boarded the plane. It had probably been a test of some sort, and Ian had no qualms with passing. It wasn’t like he feared a midflight coup. He trusted the Raptor operatives because their mission was the same as his: get Cressida to safety. As long as they had the same mission, they were on the same team.

Cressida was slower to wake but no less alarmed at the pounding when the urgency registered.

“Give us a minute!” he called out as he pulled on his jeans.

Cressida did the same, but without a bra, her nipples were readily apparent through her T-shirt.

He shook his head. “If I catch any of the guys ogling you, I might have to strangle them. So for their safety, put on a bra.”

She tossed him a sleepy smile even as she reached for the bra. “None of them would ogle me. To them, I’m just a mission.”

“You were my mission, and it didn’t stop me.” She was clearly clueless as to the ways of men. The operatives would have to be made of stone not to be aroused if she stepped out with pert nipples while looking sex-tousled.

He might be biased, but he didn’t think so.

Once she was presentable, Ian opened the door and faced Sean. “What’s up?”

“We’ve got a problem waiting for us at Joint Base Andrews.”

“H
ow can Zack be in DC? Why hasn’t he been arrested?” Cressida asked again. They were all seated around the conference table, and Sean had just finished explaining the situation. Her brain was still foggy from the deepest sleep she’d had in more than a week.

“Zack wasn’t burned. He can claim everything he did was following the mission,” Ian said.

“Including smoking us out in Kurubaş? Killing the checkpoint guard?”

Ian raked his hands through his hair. “Everyone thinks we—or at least
I
—killed the guard.”

“Where is Todd?” Cressida asked.

Sean shrugged. “I don’t have info on Ganem.” He leaned forward. “Here’s the deal. Dominick can help, but he’s going to need time. If the CIA takes you into custody on the tarmac, it’s already too late. They don’t
know
you are on this jet, but they suspect. They’ll search this bird top to bottom and there is nothing we can do about it.”

“Can Ian put on a Raptor uniform? You guys must have some sort of disguise kit here. Give him a beard, colored contacts. Something?” She could hear the desperation building in her voice. There was no way she would let Ian get railroaded. Not without a fight.

Sean glanced at Ian. “You good with a jump?”

“You’ve got a ’chute?”

Fear jolted through Cressida’s body, making her bolt upright. Ian would…
jump
?

“Enough for all of us if need be,” Sean said.

Ian met Cressida’s gaze. “No. Only me. Your job is to get Cressida to safety.”

“You can’t jump,” she said in a low croak.

“Don’t worry, honey. I got this.”

“When was the last time you jumped from a plane?”

He shrugged. “It’s like riding a bike.”

From the snickers of the other operatives, she had a feeling he was lying.

“This isn’t funny! What if…something goes wrong? We can take our chances at Andrews.”

“Honey, I can do this. The tricky part is when and where.”

“You’re good with a water extraction?” Sean asked.

“Sure.”

Sean drummed his fingers on the table. “We need a boat. Let me talk to Keith and see what we can arrange.”

E
rica and Lee had returned to Raptor headquarters in the heart of DC after they managed to convince Suzanne and Patrick to return to Patrick’s estate in Annapolis with promises to call if they heard anything.

The flight wasn’t expected to arrive until just before dawn, so sometime after midnight, Erica settled on a couch in one of the quiet offices for a middle-of-the-night nap. She jolted awake around three a.m., unsure why, but there seemed to be a heightened buzz to the conversation going on in the main room.

She sat up, rubbing her eyes. Well, these short bursts of sleep were good practice for a baby, right? She grabbed a clip from the end table and gathered her hair as she walked into the main room.

Lee stood by a computer station to the right of the conference table, where the others had gathered. She stepped to his side, and he slid an arm around her as she whispered, “What’s going on?”

“The CIA agent who we believe outed Boyd returned to the US. His loyalty isn’t being questioned—yet. They don’t know he was behind Cressida’s mugging or the other things Cressida told Sean about.”

Sean had debriefed Cressida on the drive from the border to Erbil and then relayed that information to Keith. Ian had not provided a statement, because as a covert CIA operative, even though he’d been burned, he was bound to secrecy. So they only had Cressida’s version of events. Which had been chilling, to say the least.

“What will that mean for Ian?”

“He’s going to have an uphill battle getting anyone in the CIA to believe him. Zack’s story is Ian went rogue. He either kidnapped Cressida or she’s his accomplice. Either way, everything that happened backs up his statements, and the agent killed near Gercüş is viewed as further proof Ian is a traitor. The man, Sabal, was supposedly assisting Zack in bringing Ian in.”

“And if Ian is taken into custody?”

“He
will
be taken. No question of that. Once he’s in custody, Curt will have a hell of a time intervening. If Ian is tried and convicted, Cressida could go down with him.”

Erica shuddered to think of what it could mean if Cressida were arrested—
again
.

“So what’s the plan?”
Please, let there be a plan.

“Ian’s going to jump from the plane.”

“
What?
Can he do that? I mean, does he know how?”

Lee smiled. “Yes. And the plane is equipped. That’s not the problem. The problem is, we need a drop location and a boat to pick him up. And we need it in place in less than an hour. I called JT—his boat is moored at the Menanichoch marina—but he said there’s an engine problem.”

“Ian’s going to jump into the Chesapeake?”

“If we can have a boat ready for pickup, yes. Sean estimates he’d need to jump at about five thirty a.m.”

Erica smiled. “I hate to say it, but I know the perfect person. He has a giant yacht. On the Chesapeake. He’s home right now, and he’s sympathetic to our cause.”

Lee’s eyes lit up. “Shortcake, you’re brilliant.” To the others he said, “Guys, Erica has a solution: Dr. Patrick Hill.”