Deliberate Deceptions: Hauberk Protection, Book 3 (4 page)

Maybe it was the way Ed emphasized his name, telling him they knew he wasn’t who he claimed that had Troy giving a short nod.

Troy held out his hand to her, palm up. “Give me your bloody cell phone.”

Damn it. It wasn’t unexpected; she would have made the same demand. She’d just hoped they’d trust her. Good thing Ed had tucked the back-up device into her hair. “I’ll need to stay in contact with Ed. Otherwise, how will I know when the assignment’s over?”

“Oh, we’ll let you use our phones once we’ve verified everything. In the meantime, I want to make sure you don’t text the location of where I’m about to take you to James Bond here. Or that he won’t use the GPS chip to track you.” No trace remained of the broad Irish accent he’d used earlier. “Then there’s the added bonus that it’ll bug the shit out of you.”

He gestured to one of his companions and tossed the phone to him before turning back to her, his hand outstretched again. “Now your purse, if you don’t mind, Ms.
Patrick
.”

She handed it over without a word. Other than her lipstick, and her fake ID there wasn’t anything of worth in it. That was a lesson she’d learned long ago.

Instead of him rummaging through it the way she’d expected, he tossed it to the same man who had her phone.

“If this goes wrong, if Chad gets hurt, then I’m taking you out.” Aiming his finger as if it were a gun, Troy pointed to them each in turn. “Both of you.”

His hand firm on her elbow, Troy marched her to the van where he told her to “assume the position”. He did a thorough pat-down, including a sweep with an electronic wand. She held her breath. The Brigade techs had assured them the device didn’t transmit any signal while it was turned off. Andy’s sweep after they’d met him hadn’t picked up the transponder in Ed’s pocket. But she wasn’t sure if Troy’s equipment was the same type or if it was more efficient at sniffing out electronics. To her relief, Troy didn’t run the wand over her hair.

Even so she didn’t release her breath until he handed the wand back to the other agent and gestured to the van. “Get in.”

She climbed in and took a seat on one of the benches lining the side. Troy jumped in and sat across from her, his expression hard. “Lauren Miller—excuse me, Ms.
Patrick
—” he gestured to the young agent beside him, “—meet Kris Campbell. He and Walters will be part of your primary team.” He narrowed his eyes. “I was supposed to leave you here, but I’m thinking I’ll stick around a while.”

The unspoken “To make sure you don’t fuck up” hung heavy in the air.

The third man, the one who had taken her cell phone and purse, closed the back door from outside. He tapped it twice and the driver set the van in motion.

“Isn’t he coming with us?”

“Nope. He’s taking your stuff on a little ride all their own. Just to make sure there’s no hidden tracking devices in them.” Troy glanced out the side of his eyes at her. “You’ll get your purse back whenever the hell this assignment’s done.”

They drove for several hours before stopping at yet another municipal airport. In the cover of a private hanger, Troy loaded her onto a Sikorsky S-76 helicopter where a second pair of agents waited. One she didn’t recognize, though she guessed from his posture he was either a cop or military. The second she did recognize though: Scott Phillips, the single hostage who had managed to escape the guerillas in Colombia before the Brigade had rescued the remainder. Scott gave her a cool look before turning his attention to pulling out a well-worn paperback. She might have thought him engrossed if she hadn’t realized he’d turned the page only twice in the next hour.

From the buffeting that had her clutching the armrests, she guessed they were flying over mountains but were they the Guadalupes of Texas, or had they’d flown north and were over the foothills of North Dakota’s Black Mountains? Then again, thanks to the nap she’d taken who knows how many hours ago, perhaps they’d doubled back and they were over the Appalachians or even the Laurentians.

At the same time she was thinking of their flight into the terrorists’ camp in Colombia, the young agent to her left cursed under his breath about it being Afghanistan all over again. Guess it didn’t matter what country or what battle, bad weather and bad flights were universal.

She craned her neck to see out the windows and realized twilight had long since come and gone, and all she could see below them was inky blackness.

Scott peered down at the circle of lights that suddenly blazed beneath them and exhaled. “Thank God.”

“Please tell me this is our last stop.” She covered her mouth and yawned in an effort to pop the pressure building in her ears from the change in altitude.

“What? Are you bored with our company already?” Troy grabbed a strap over the door when a gust of wind caught the helicopter and it swung around. “You’re welcome to leave any time you want
.
No skin off my nose.”

Was Troy still pissed off they hadn’t tipped him off to their plans earlier? Or maybe he was offended on Chad’s behalf? If that was his reasoning, she had no argument. She stared out the window, watching the stars disappear behind the treetops that whipped around in the downdraft of the helicopter’s blades. At least Chad had friends who’d stayed with him this time.

As soon as they’d touched down, the lights shut off, leaving them in the dark. “What’s stopping anyone else” —an attacker— “from landing their own helicopter?”

“Oh, I think we’d find a way to discourage any unwanted visitors.”

“Let me guess, you’ve armed your guards with surface-to-air missiles.”

A dark smile quirked the ends of his lips but he didn’t say anything. Holy hell, how had Hauberk managed to acquire SAMs legally? Just who had Sam Watson fucked to get that type of power?

What was she thinking? He probably obtained them from the same place as the Brigade. Cooper Davis had drawn Sam into his circle without Sam even suspecting what was going on. Or did Sam know about Cooper’s real identity?

That single connection between Sam and the Brigade’s leader sent another frisson of worry through her. There were too many threads hanging on this case, too many possibilities for Harris to infiltrate Hauberk’s network.

A camouflaged guard, complete with infra-red goggles and an MP5 machine gun slung over his shoulder, slid open the helicopter door and glanced around the interior. As soon as he recognized Troy, he touched his hand to his forehead as if he were in the military. “Good evening, sir. Everything’s secure.”

Troy jumped out first then reached up to help her out, his expression grim. “I hope you bloody well know what you’re doing.”

So did she.

She ducked her head as she jumped to the ground beside him. Instead of the pavement she expected, soft grass cushioned her landing. Crickets chirped as she took a deep breath, hoping to get some sense of where they were. The scent of fresh mown grass and damp earth filled her lungs. No distant roar of a highway, no bright lights indicative of a nearby city bouncing off the few clouds. With only the stars sparkling above and no moon, she couldn’t see much beyond the field they were in. Rolling hills silhouetted the horizon, increasing her suspicion they’d gone in a circle and were now back east. Vermont’s Green Mountains? The Appalachians? But where? Tennessee? Pennsylvania? North Carolina? Did it matter? Not as long as Harris couldn’t find them.

Her confidence in their plan faltered when she saw Chad at the far edge of the meadow, four men armed with an assortment of MP5s and M4 carbines flanking him. Even with the distance between them, power emanated from him. His alert posture combined with a quiet confidence radiated his awareness of everything surrounding them. No doubt he’d already evaluated everything either as a threat or for use as a possible defense. Would he head straight for the front gate once he found out she was his principal?

His gaze skimmed over her as they approached, then flicked to assess the two agents at her side. Though his expression was bland, there was no mistaking the tension in his shoulders.

She arrived beside Troy just in time to hear him say, “This wasn’t my effin’ idea.”

Chad looked directly at Lauren but she couldn’t read his expression; he’d donned the damned implacable mask he’d learned to use thanks to the FBI and the media. “Noted.”

Troy glanced over his shoulder and shook his head. “I think I’ll hang around a couple days in case you want someone else to take over.”

The agents hung back as Chad stuck his hands in his pockets, something he only did if he was nervous. Which meant his pockets were rarely used. “Hello, Lauren.”

I’m sorry, please forgive me for leaving you. For not coming back. I despise your sister for what she did to us. I hate myself for trusting her
.
I’ve never stopped loving you. I’ve missed holding you and being held. I’ve even missed the way you hog the covers at night.
“Hello, Chad.”

“Let’s go inside.” Not cold. Not warm either. Business-like. Detached. Like she was a stranger.

Maybe she was.

As they walked toward the waiting Humvee, his palm touched the small of her back, igniting a memory of the first time they’d met at the bar where she’d worked her last year of college. How he’d been so careful with her, so tender and gentle. Oh, he had strength. He’d proven that the way he’d handled the drunken patron who had accosted her. He’d waited around until the end of her shift, his friends having ditched him hours before. Once she was done, he’d escorted her to her car, placing the flat of his hand on her back just the way it was now. The same spark of electricity had zinged through her then too.

Lauren closed her eyes, fighting the guilt welling inside. When she told him what she’d done, when she finally confessed her secret, he’d leave. Worse, he might hate her.

Chapter Four

Chad stared out the Humvee’s window in a futile effort to pretend Lauren wasn’t sitting mere feet away from him. Did Sam know it was Lauren he’d be protecting?
 

Damn it, was this all a setup? Some twisted scheme to get them back together? Was Thalia playing one of her manipulative games? Or Sam? No, neither of them liked Lauren. Oh, they’d both liked her well enough until she’d walked away from their marriage. Thalia had been livid on his behalf, while Sam…well, Sam had set him up with an endless number of women. All of whom he’d turned down. Almost all, he corrected himself. It had been almost ten years, and he doubted Lauren had been celibate either. The idea of her being with another man turned his stomach. His gaze slid sideways and he checked her left hand. After all these years why should he feel such satisfaction in not finding a ring? He should want her to be happy. Even if it wasn’t with him, damn it.

Something about the whole assignment, about the way Weir had come to them and then the way Sam had suggested he get out from behind the desk and take the assignment had the hairs on the back of his neck standing at a ninety-degree angle. Weir had to have known he worked for Hauberk, had to have known he’d once been married to Lauren. So why seek him out? He ran through the meeting and realized that he’d been manipulated—and from the looks of it, Sam had been part of the manipulation. Which made no sense if Sam knew Lauren would be their principal; there was no way in hell he would have put Chad in charge of her protection. Sam, more than anyone, would realize his objectivity would be skewed. It must be obvious from the way he couldn’t stop staring at her ankles, remembering them wrapping about him as he positioned himself at her entrance, that he was anything but objective. His cock stiffened at the memory of the heat of her pussy as he slid deep inside her. Shit yeah, his objectivity was completely shot to hell.

When the Humvee pulled into the garage, he got his first good look at her in the light. There were a few more lines on her face than there had been, no surprise, though fewer than on his. Her hair was longer than it had been last time he’d seen her. Damn it, why was he so turned on by the thought of threading his fingers through her hair, holding her in place while she…Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.
Focus on the mission, not on her sucking your dick, you fucking idiot
!

So much for maintaining any sort of balance. Thank God Troy had said he’d hang around a few days.

Chad led her through the kitchen, introducing her to the couple who took care of the place throughout the year. He’d been here before, for visits and training exercises, so he stood back and watched her. Despite the circles under her eyes, she took the time to greet each of the agents who would be guarding her.

Damn, she looked sexy in that totally oblivious I’m-all-business manner. No one else knew the body hidden beneath that demure white cotton blouse and navy blue slacks. No one else knew the passion and the heat waiting to be released when Lauren let go of her inhibitions. No one else
here
would know, he corrected himself.

As he stood back waiting, he caught Walters slanting him a glance from time to time. Did Andy know Lauren was his ex-wife and now wondered why he hadn’t removed himself as lead op? Some great example he was setting to his agents, wasn’t he?

Or was Andy attracted to her and wondered if Chad might be jealous if he put a move on her? The little green-eyed monster he thought he’d conquered long ago flared into a dragon that filled the room.

After shooting Andy a narrow glance, Chad grasped Lauren’s elbow. “You must be tired. Let me show you your room.”

The second he touched her again his whole body reacted as if he’d grabbed a thousand-volt electrical wire—the same sensation he’d had that first night he’d escorted her at the bar. The same way it had each time he’d touched her every day they were married.

“There’s an indoor pool, a work-out room, all the comforts of your standard mansion.” He’d originally planned to show her them all tonight, but damn it all, he needed distance between them or she’d find herself plastered against the wall, her slacks on the floor at her ankles, her pussy glistening as he buried his cock deep within her.

He pushed open the door to the main bedroom and stood aside, letting her enter first. “I’ll show you the rest of the place in the morning.”