Die Run Hide (26 page)

“I had to work to find you,” Gianni said. “I started with hotel clerks and taxi drivers in Havana. A handful of world currency notes and a story about my missing girlfriend led me to the train station. There I got lucky with a kid who was selling gum.” The corners of Anika’s mouth lifted at the memory of the round-eyed, skinny-legged boy. “I was partway down the coast when the storm hit.” Gianni paused. “Did you know your locator isn’t sending out signals?”

“I smashed it at the truck stop.” Anika bit down on her lip. “I didn’t want you to find me.”

“And now?”

She ran to him, closing the distance in four strides. She threw her arms around his neck and pressed her lips hard against his. He was alive. Her betrayal hadn’t destroyed him.

He slid his arms around her waist.

The sketches riffled to the floor.

She gave herself this moment, this too-short reprieve before she would say the words that would send him away forever.

“You’re out of breath.” He smoothed his hands across her shoulders and down her back, drawing her closer, as if to confirm she wasn’t just a vision either.

“I’ve been running.” She nuzzled the side of his neck, searched for his pulse and found it racing. “What’s your excuse?”

“Didn’t you get my last message? Telling you I was delayed and to stay put?”

“The message cut off. And I was … compromised in Havana. I had to leave.”

He pulled back, but kept hold of her waist. “What happened?” Concern shadowed his eyes.

“It doesn’t matter now. I took care of it. I wanted to let you know I relocated here. But I got sick and then the storm came.”

“I’m here now. Why did you ask me to come?”

To … warn … you. To … save … you.
The words stuttered through her mind, but she couldn’t say them out loud.

He closed the door, picked up the sketches from the floor, and set them on the desk. “Shall we sit?”

Anika moved into the living room and Gianni followed. “I have a better idea.” She walked over to the potted plant, pushed aside the leaves and removed the listening device from the dirt. Holding it up so Gianni could see, she placed the index finger of her other hand against her lips. “Let’s take a walk down the beach.”

When he nodded in silent understanding, she stepped past him and entered the bathroom. Setting the black device on the countertop, she turned on the faucet for good measure, then walked back into the main room and stood facing him.

“What happened the morning of my solo?” she asked. “Why did it change from Lyon to Midway? And why were you called away?”

“I don’t know why your solo changed. By the time I learned about it, I was en route to … ” He stopped himself. Her eyes narrowed. “I couldn’t access a private channel. The best I could do was send you a coded message.”

“Evan gave it to me. About the bar at the truck stop. She thought you meant that restaurant on Melrose.”

“As I hoped she would. And anyone else who saw the message.”

“I wasn’t sure what it meant. But then I learned the team’s rendezvous was an actual truck stop and I knew you were trying to tell me something about the mission. I thought you would be waiting for me afterward.”

“Couldn’t,” Gianni said. “I was still … out of range. But I was able to get the package there. I see you found it.”

His eyes focused on the medal hanging from her neck.

His only tangible link to his family. Her only tangible link to him. She should give it back, but she couldn’t bring herself to remove it. Not yet.

“You used a civilian to make the drop?”

“Too risky.” Gianni shook his head. “I programmed the service droid to hide the package, then chalk mark a key code only it knew. As soon as it had executed the task, the program erased.”

“Clever. You could teach Evan a trick or two.”

“I learned the technique from Evan.”

“Oh.” Anika’s brows lifted. “And my tracking chip? Did Evan help deactivate it?”

“No. The fewer people involved in this undertaking, the better.”

Anika thought about the people she had already involved. Boris was dead.
Señor
Alejo, possibly still in a Havana jail. She hoped that Brad was safely back in California North. And the Estradas … it would be best for them if she left the cottage as soon as possible. “Agreed. Why did you leave the agency the morning of my solo?” At Gianni’s silence, she persisted, “Did it have something to do with your promotion?”

He gave nothing away. His eyes didn’t flicker, his mouth didn’t twitch. Still, she could see his mind working out different answers.

“Yes.”

So simple, it had to be the truth.

“Does U.N.I.T. twelve-oh-five know you’re here?”

“No. They granted me a short leave. In exchange for intel about Command.”

“What intel?” When he didn’t answer, she blew out a short breath. “Okay, forget that. How long do you have?”

“I’m expected back tonight.”

Tonight
. Her heart plummeted like a bird falling from the sky. So little time. Not that he would want to spend any more time with her once she told him everything.

“Now it’s my turn for some answers.” Gianni leaned one shoulder against the wall, arms crossed in front of him.

Anika nodded. Heart thudding, legs quivering, she reached back and grabbed the edge of the waist-high countertop that separated the living room from the kitchen. The beaded bracelet Daisy had made for her clicked against the tile.

Treat it like a debrief. Get it over with. Fast.

“I lied.” She tightened her grip around the countertop’s edge. “About the solo. It was a trap.”

She kept the explanation short and her voice neutral. She relayed the set-up, Command’s deal, the tampered souvenir video with Jewel. But she held back about the pregnancy.

When she had finished, she stared past Gianni’s shoulder through the picture window. Waves nuzzled the shore and gulls chased one another in the cloudless blue sky. It looked so serene.

Inside, the silence pressed all around her like an invisible force until she thought she would burst. “I wanted to tell you when you came to the detention chamber.” The words rushed out of her. “I thought there’d be time after we … ” She flashbacked to their lovemaking, to Gianni’s warm hands on her bare skin, his open-mouthed kisses along her spine. “But you’d been so … distant the previous weeks.”

“I was preoccupied about the promotion. Uncertain how to talk with you about it. How to convince you to come with me.”

“Come with you? How?”

“A privilege of the promotion.”

“I didn’t know … I thought … it was something else.”
Someone else.

“What else?”

“It doesn’t matter now.” She tried to push away the memory of the souvenir video. Even though she now knew it was a lie, the images of Jewel and her cat-like grin still burned in Anika’s mind. “The surveillance reactivated in the detention room and you left before I could tell you.”

“So I was right.” Gianni spoke softly, as if to himself.

It took her a moment. Then, incredulous, she asked, “You
knew
the solo was a trap?”

“Not with certainty. Not until now. But I wondered.”

“That morning in your office. During the pre-briefing, when you said that solos usually take longer to arrange, you were suspicious even then.”

“Even though you told me not to be. That you had just gotten lucky.” Gianni’s eyes and voice hardened, like shards of ice.

“Why did you help me then? If you were suspicious, why did you go along?” Her voice sunk to a whisper.

“To give you what you want.” He spread out his hands as if to release her. “Your freedom.”

She stared at him.
Freedom
. The one thing she had been sure she wanted. Except that now, when it was too late, she wasn’t so sure.

“And the baby?” he asked.

She flinched. “There isn’t … there is no … ” She shook her head, held her breath.

“Good hook.” His words pierced her.

She almost took a step back, but caught herself.
Debrief
.

“Second informed me that you needed more … ‘incentive’ was the word she used. To help me escape. She said that I wasn’t enough of a reason. I was ordered to Clinic. Given implants to simulate … pregnancy.” Even now, Anika burned at the memory of that moment in Command’s office when she had been told about this particular detail of the plan.

“I’m glad,” Gianni said.

“You’re
what
?”

“Glad the pregnancy wasn’t your idea.”

“Does it matter?”

“It does to me.”

“I wish,” she said, releasing her hold on the countertop with fingers that had grown numb
. Wish I could take it back.
“I wish things were different. With us.” She lowered her gaze.
Don’t.
She swallowed hard, tasting tears in her throat. “If you go now, you can still make it back in time. Get what you want. Your promotion. Jewel.”

“Jewel?” he asked. “What are you talking about?”

“Or whoever you choose.”

He lunged at her then, moving so fast she didn’t have time to react. He pinned her arms to her sides. “What aren’t you telling me?”

“Gianni, please, there isn’t time. You have to get back.”

“There’s time.
Parlami
. You owe me that much.”

“I … we … don’t fit. You want a family. I don’t … I can’t … give you what you want.”

“Who told you that?”

“Second did. It’s in my profile.” Shame squirmed inside her. “Profiles don’t lie.”

“No.” Gianni loosened his hold. “But people do.” He walked over to the desk, his back to her.

What did he mean by that? A tear slid down her cheek. She swiped at it with the back of her hand. He would leave now and get back in time. He would be safe. That’s what mattered now. It was all that mattered.

“Why did you draw these?” Gianni turned back, with her sketches in hand.

“They’re for my cover.” She set her jaw. She had revealed enough secrets. “I’m supposed to be an art teacher.”

“You could have drawn any subject. Why me?” He studied the pages, one at a time.

She twisted the bracelet around her wrist to keep herself from snatching the drawings out of his hands. “The storm lasted for days. I got tired of sketching furniture.”

Gianni looked up. His eyes held her captive. “Liar,” he whispered. He walked over to her and placed his hand on her heart. Held it there. “You are not your profile. You can choose what you want. What’s inside here. Your hopes, your dreams. I don’t want Jewel. Or anyone else. Just you.” Her heart hammered against his hand as if it would break through skin, muscle, bone. “Tell me what
you
want,
cara
, what’s in here.”

“I want … what I can’t have. You. And freedom.”

She twisted the bracelet again.

The string popped and beads shot out like mini-projectiles. One cracked open as it hit the floor and a tiny black rectangle fell out.

Her eyes riveted on the device.

A tracker. Too advanced to be Cuban.

Her stomach clenched and her hands curled into fists. She had been played this whole time.
Damn Brad.

“How’d you get the bracelet?” Gianni asked.

“The people who own this place gave it to me. The tracker looks like — ”

“U.N.I.T.”

“Yes. It may have stopped transmitting. They’ll be coming here to find out why. We have to go.”

A quick scan outside confirmed they still had time. No dark unisuits on approach. Just sand, sea, and sky.

She pulled away from him and ran over to the framed poster of Che Guevara. Grabbed her passport and visa hidden inside the backing. “What transport did you use to get here? Jetbike?” She tossed the documents into the knapsack. The Glock followed. “We’ll take the back roads into Holguin. They’ll be a mess from the storm, but we’ll get as far as we can. From Holguin, you can take the train back to Havana.”

“You mean
we’ll
take the train to Havana.”

That stopped her.

“No, I’ll hitch a ride to — ” She caught herself.
Don’t tell. Safer that way.

She dashed into the kitchen and yanked open the refrigerator.
Still plenty of leftovers. She grabbed the containers.

“Why are you running?” Gianni hadn’t moved. “You accomplished your mission. You persuaded me to help you survive the solo. Why aren’t you going back to claim your reward? Your freedom?”

“There is no reward.” She shoved the containers into the knapsack. “U.N.I.T. wants me dead. They sent Salazar to the truck stop. To finish what the solo didn’t.”

The knapsack wouldn’t close. She pulled out two of the containers. “Do you have room for these?” When he didn’t answer, she hurried over to his bag and shoved the food inside.

“Are you sure Salazar was sent to kill you? Maybe he was told to retrieve you.”

“I considered that. But I couldn’t be sure. So I hitched a ride with a trucker. I was trying to get to the nearest safe house. Contact Second from there. On the way, the truck exploded. With the driver inside. Boris. He had a wife, a daughter.” A spurt of pain shot through her. “I was far enough away from the truck when it blew, or I wouldn’t be alive now. I found the bomb fragment in the rubble.” The pain flared, like a flame inhaling oxygen, as she visualized the bright orange strip hidden beneath the knapsack’s false bottom. “A U.N.I.T. prototype. That’s when I knew. There was no going back. I started running. Running and trying to contact you. Warn you.”

She tossed Gianni his bag, then returned to the bed and snatched up her knapsack. “Where’s your bike?” She started walking toward the bathroom and the back door. “Out this way?”

“Come back with me,” Gianni said.

“What?” She halted mid-stride. “I just told you — ”

“I’ll use my privilege to have you transferred. We’ll be together.”

Together
. Her mind grabbed at the word.
Not free, but … together.

“If I return, if they know I survived because of your help, you won’t get your promotion. You’ll be punished for disloyalty. Your best chance is to go back to U.N.I.T. twelve-oh-five. Act as if this rendezvous never happened. As if I died in the solo.”