Dangerous Secrets (32 page)

Jack readied the hose. He lifted his hand and
held it in the air. The helicopter flew slowly, its rotors whipping the air,
sucking the air upward, creating clouds of dust. Jack thanked the dust for the
camouflage it afforded him. He was banking on human nature. It was natural to
jump, react in some way, to the sudden splash of a blinding wall of rainwater
heaved up by one car and hitting the windshield of another. This was his
intention. He had surprise on his side. He hoped he also had perfect aim.

Quickly he dropped his hand, then grabbed the
hose in a photographer′s stance. Water started through the spiral of hose
Morgan had unleashed. He felt it blow through the fabric hose as it swelled and
hardened the hose about his feet and legs. A second later it gushed through the
spout like a thrusting geyser. Pointing the hose at the juncture just under the
beaters, Jack aimed the extension. The helicopter swayed to the side as the
g-force connected with its mark. Jack took a step forward, spraying water over
the windshield. Then he found the opening in the side and water gushed into the
cabin, surprising the pilot. The man fought the flow, letting go of the stick
in an attempt to plug the hole and move away from the impact. The helicopter
became a huge, uncontrolled, metal weight with no method of remaining airborne.
The big-nosed craft pointed downward. The tail rotor spun the machine around
backward.

Jack worked with it, keeping the water flowing,
moving as the craft moved to keep the water going inside and disorienting the pilot.
Since the craft was low to the ground when it came around the house, it had
little recovery distance or time for the pilot to grab the stick and pull the
helicopter out of danger. It struck the ground in a labyrinth of snarling metal
and shattering glass.

Morgan turned the water off at Jack′s
command and came running in his direction. Jack held onto the hose in case he
had to use it. The pilot lay forward in his seat, restrained only by the
shoulder harness required of all pilots in flight. Morgan stopped at
Jack′s arm. Her hand found his instinctively. He dropped the hose and
squeezed her fingers, barely conscious of the action. They both looked at the
mass of white metal stained with green grass and dirt, its rotor blades pitched
into the ground like huge steel knives. The engine hissed and ticked. A white
smoke came from a closed panel near the top.

‶
Is he dead?″ she asked.

Jack didn′t answer. He started forward.
Morgan followed, still holding his hand.

He stopped at the entrance to the craft. The door
had been ripped from its mooring and lay several feet from the mangled mess.
Blood drained from the head of the helicopter′s only occupant. Jack
didn′t think he was dead. He took a step forward.

‶
What are you doing?″ she
asked.

‶
I′m going to get him out
of there.″

‶
Do you think that′s a
good idea? It might explode.″

‶
If it didn′t do it on
impact, it′s not likely to happen now.″

He dropped Morgan′s hand and went toward
the man in the seat.
‶
If there′s anything in the house you want, get
it now and go to the car.″

‶
Why?″

‶
He isn′t alone.″
Jack indicated the unconscious man.
‶
The minute he doesn′t
answer the radio signal with his source, there will be others.″

Morgan took a step back. She hugged herself and
looked around as if afraid she′d find someone behind her.

‶
Go!″ he shouted.
‶
Meet
me at the car in one minute. Not a second longer.″

Chapter 5

Jack hated this job. He couldn′t pinpoint
the exact moment when he′d become dissatisfied with what he did. Maybe he
had always been dissatisfied. The world sat on the brink of destruction and
often he was the linchpin holding the two sides together. He knew it would
always be that way. That there were younger men, more idealistic, men who
hadn′t been beaten by their lifestyle, ready to take his place. He wanted
out and he was going to get it. It should have been easy. He should be sitting
in his house in Montana with his feet up, smelling the crisp air and enjoying
the mountains that were both majestic and imposing, where the likelihood of
terrorists coming across them was small. That hadn′t happened. The
decision had been taken from him when he′d gone to Jacob′s office
for a leisurely lunch and ended up here, on this road in broad daylight,
heading east with no apparent destination in mind, but with unknown assailants
behind them and not a clue as to why.

He wished he hadn′t come here, that he
hadn′t had the misfortune to be in Jacob′s office when the message
appeared on his screen. Jacob hadn′t shared it with him. His friend had
only canceled lunch. Urgent business was the excuse, but the look he′d
thrown at Jack said the message somehow concerned him. Intuitively he knew
that. Curiously, he rushed to see the screen. Jacob cleared it, but not before
the name Morgan Kirkwood jumped off the monitor like a bridge to his past.

Jack was planning to resign. It was his reason
for being in Washington. He′d told Jacob first. Jacob was his friend, the
closest thing to a friend he had or dared have in his line of work. Jack
planned to formally present his resignation after lunch, but that hadn′t
happened. Abruptly he changed his mind when he realized Morgan was involved.
Badgering Jacob was useless. The only thing he learned was that the former
Olympic champion lived in Missouri and that she had never, in the past twelve years,
left a message for anyone in the bureau.

Something had to be wrong. Jack knew it on more
than one level. First, that Morgan had called for help and second that Jacob
immediately reacted to her name after a twelve-year silence. Something had to
be seriously wrong. Jack felt responsible. Morgan Kirkwood had begun to turn
her life around. She was on her way to being a normal working American. Then
he′d come into her life, without her knowledge, and changed all that. It
was his fault. She would never have been in this situation, whatever it was, if
he hadn′t given his plan to the powers that be. But he had. And he
couldn′t undo it.

So he′d volunteered to check out the
situation and get back to Jacob if there was the tiniest bit of trouble. What
he′d seen couldn′t be considered tiny: one murder, an explosion, a
daring escape, a drive through the night to a hidden house in the woods and a
helicopter fight with a fire hose. Jack didn′t know what had sparked any
of this, but he was going to find out, and he was going to find out now.

He swung the car into a rest stop and cruised
into the farthest parking space. It was afternoon, but only a few cars were
parked in the spaces. No one was around them. He got out of the car and went
around to Morgan′s side. He opened the door and pulled her out of the
seat.

‶
We need to talk,″ he said
by way of explanation.

Instead of going toward the building, he headed
for the wooded area in the back. Several empty picnic tables dotted the
landscape. He dropped her hand when they were well away from the parking area
and the small building where weary travelers stopped to use restrooms, check
maps and load up on junk food before returning to their cars, vans and trucks
and heading again for distant destinations.

Morgan looked tired and scared, and although
she fought hard not to let it show, Jack could see it. He gritted his teeth and
forced himself not to turn away. He didn′t want to see her looking like
this. If he let his emotions get in the way he′d put off asking his
questions.
‶
I
want to know what is going on,″ he started.

‶
I don′t know.″

‶
Someone is trying to kill you
and you have no clue why?′′ There was more anger in his voice than
he intended.

‶
I think I said that.″

‶
Why did you contact
Jacob?″

‶
Just how do you know
Jacob?″ she countered. Jack was wondering when she was going to put the
fact that he knew the director of the witness protection program together with
his presence.

‶
My acquaintance with him is not
the question. What is the reason you called him?″

She folded her arms under her breasts and
closed her mouth. Jack looked at her. He needed to change his tactics.
Threatening her wasn′t what he had in mind. He needed to make her talk.
Even if she didn′t want to. There was one way he had of making her talk.
He′d discovered it in Korea when she came off that gym floor after her
final competitive rotation. He took a step closer to her. Immediately her arms
went to her sides, her hands curled into fists. She stepped back, but Jack saw
her body harden. Every line of her being went on the attack.

***

Morgan knew the look in his eyes when
he′d stepped forward. She′d seen it only once before, but it was
unmistakable. Jack was going to kiss her. She turned around.
‶
I′m
going to the car,″ she threw at him as she started to leave. He caught
her arm and spun her around.

‶
Not yet. I want to know
what′s going on.″

‶
Give me one good reason why I
should tell you anything?′′ She snatched her arm free.

‶
Because I just saved your
pretty little ass—″

‶
Which wouldn′t have been
in danger if
you
hadn′t called
Washington,″ she interrupted.

Jack took a deep breath and let it out.
‶
You′re
right.″

She blinked at his words. She hadn′t
expected him to agree with her. Her stare had to be evidence of that, but she
was right. Although she couldn′t believe Jacob Winston had anything to do
with their situation, someone else did. For a moment she thought it might be
Jack, but he′d saved her more than once.

‶
I came here to check out the
situation.″

‶
Well, so far you′re not
doing a very good job.″

Jack grabbed Morgan′s upper arms and pushed
her against the trunk of a tree. The rough surface dug into her back. The
action surprised her but she revealed little to let him know.

‶
Stop it!″ he shouted, his
face only a couple of inches from hers. I′m sick and tired of you
complaining about everything. I know you′re scared. Fear is natural and I
won′t think less of you if you show it, but stop this clawing at me.
We′re in this together.″

Morgan raised defiant eyes to him. She wanted
to cry, but she wouldn′t. She was scared, yet her eyes were dry. She
hadn′t been this scared since she was in Seoul, hanging from the top of a
prison wall with one hand, nothing beneath her but useless air.

Jack looked back at her, giving nothing away.
He was as hard as the bark digging into her back and she knew he was right. She
had been clawing at him. Ever since he′d shown up in her house,
she′d been trying to hide how she felt, falling into old habits,
attacking before she could be attacked.

She held his gaze, knowing he wouldn′t
back down. She understood this was a crossroad. This was the moment when she
either trusted him or she would have to survive alone.

She stared into the phantom depths of his eyes,
looking for a sign, something to guide her, but with Jack there was nothing. He
only gave away what he wanted other people to see, and he wanted her to see
nothing. She dropped her head. She lifted her hands, placed them at his waist
and stepped into his space. Her forehead touched his chest and rested there.
She felt him stiffen. She knew her action surprised him. It was
uncharacteristic for her too, but she needed the contact and somehow with Jack
it seemed all right. Her arms circled his body as she took comfort from the
liaison. Jack held himself still while she lay against him. After a while his
arms came around her and he cradled her closer. She held onto him, trying not
to think, not to read anything more into his arms than comfort.

He was a cold man. The one who had kissed her
so passionately and then walked away as if she were just another part of the
water and he was a rock over which she passed, had his arms around her. Her
impact on him was the same as a single drop of water passing over the sheer
cliffs of a stone mountain.

Yet Morgan heard his heart beating. The rhythm
was fast, faster than she thought it ought to be for a man of stone.

***

Jack should let her go. His arms
shouldn′t be around her. She felt too good and she smelled like soap, a
lemon concoction of some type. He didn′t like flavored scents. They gave
away too much. He was used to finding people by scent as well as cunning. He never
wore cologne, used only basic soap, unscented deodorants, detergents and
shaving creams. You could hide a body, suspend yourself on closet shelves or in
the branches of trees, but you couldn′t prevent fragrance from giving
away position. Yet he didn′t mind it on her. He liked knowing her scent,
knowing how the perfume touched her skin, mixed with her special chemistry to
produce that combination that was favorable to his taste. He wanted to move his
nose closer to her, inhale the fragrance, feel the warmth of her skin against
his mouth.

He didn′t dare. What he was doing was
already too close for comfort. His body knew it and soon she would too. With an
effort greater than any man should be asked to put forth, Jack pushed her away
and stepped back.

‶
Thanks, Jack,″ Morgan
said. She looked him straight in the eye.
‶
I didn′t mean to make you
the object of my anger. I′m not used to having anyone. . .″ She
trailed off. She wasn′t used to having people help her, having people
looking out for her. Jack knew her history. She was a loner. In that they were
alike. He didn′t often have anyone at his back either.

‶
We′re in this
together,″ he told her.
‶
I′m here to help you. I′ll keep you
safe.″

At least he′d try. He looked in her eyes,
hoping for trust, or to find the worry he′d seen since their reunion two
days ago gone, but it was there. She trusted him, he could tell that, but she
was still worried. The look nearly undid him. He turned away. It was that or
kiss her.

‶
We need a plan,″ he said
a moment later when he felt in control enough that he wouldn′t act on his
instincts.

‶
I agree,″ she said.

‶
First I need to know what
we′re up against.″

Jack looked at Morgan carefully. He wanted to
see her reaction to the request. Each time he′d mentioned her running
she′d evaded the question. He wanted to see what she did now. He wanted
to know if she was about to tell him the truth or if she was about to lie.

It was textbook. He′d learned the
technique early during his days of training. Eyes to the right, accessing the
creative. A quick intake of breath. All she had to do was begin with
‶
to
tell you the truth,″ to complete the total picture. She was going to lie.

‶
I honestly don′t
know,″ she told him. Not the first-order phrase, but the second. She knew
something, but she wasn′t about to give him the benefit of her knowledge.
Now he wished he had kissed her. He knew how to seduce a woman, use his own
sexuality to get her to tell him what he wanted to know. He′d done it
before, not often, but when necessary he′d used whatever methods were at
hand.

Why hadn′t he done it with her? Why
hadn′t he seduced her to gain her trust, her will to give him everything
he wanted? He knew why. She wasn′t the usual victim. He had feelings for
her. And he′d kissed her once. He knew what that had done to him then, and
if he tried it again he wasn′t sure if he could remember his purpose or
if the same thing would happen to him now that had happened before. He′d
lost himself in his need for her. Lost so much of himself that he had to walk
away without an explanation, stay away for years, lying to himself that she was
only a job and he didn′t want her in his life. Yet at the first mention
of her name he was on a plane, breaking into her house and holding her in his
arms.

‶
Do you have a plan?″ She
interrupted his thoughts.

‶
Twelve years ago we were in
Seoul together.″ Jack had to play a card she didn′t know he held.
He needed her to tell him the truth. This time he′d get it by giving her
a bit of himself. Hopefully, she would do the same.

‶
Yes,″ she replied.

‶
You broke a man out of
prison.″

‶
Excuse me,″ she said with
only a slight hesitation. She was better than he thought she′d be.
He′d seen her in action before, but he thought he could surprise her.
Instead she played her own hand.
‶
I was in Seoul for one
reason.″

‶
To break Hart Lewiston out of
jail, steal some vital documents and turn them both over to CIA agents who
would get him out of Korea.″ This time he did see the surprise on her
face.
‶
Then
you were to compete in the Olympics. You weren′t expected to win the gold
medal.″

Morgan turned away from him. She grabbed hold
of the tree he′d pushed her against for support. He could see by her head
and shoulders she was putting his presence in Korea twelve years ago together.
He hadn′t been a mere coach of the swim team. He′d been a CIA
operative there to make sure she succeeded. Or what? What if she hadn′t
succeeded? Was he there to also make sure she wasn′t captured? That she
wasn′t left behind in a condition to talk, to tell anyone what she knew,
what her mission had been?