Hard to Trust (5 page)

"Based on the look on your face, you kind of have an idea but aren't going to tell me 'cause you don't trust me. Is that how this plays out?" he said.

Before she could even think about responding, a car pulled to a stop in front of them, blocking their path. He glanced her way and shrugged, not giving away much in his expression. Could this be where he turned her over to the bad guys?

She had her hand on the door handle, ready and more than willing to bolt, when he grasped her arm. He didn't say a word, but it was clear he had a good idea of what she'd been thinking.

"I knew I should have rented a Hummer." He shook his head. "I don't know about you, but I'm not liking our odds with the whole sedan-versus-SUV thing." Without uttering another word he made a quick U-turn in the middle of the street, bouncing along the curb to get it accomplished. As expected, another car came around the corner to block them in. The metal parts on the bottom of the car scraped as he ripped across a lawn, circumventing both cars. She held on tight, while the car behind used them for target practice.

"What now?"

"You being CIA and all, I thought I'd let you come up with a plan." He glanced at her and somehow managed to smile.

Did he take anything seriously?

Maybe he was an adrenaline junkie, like she used to be before she lost her mojo. She chewed her lip and thought about what she would have done a couple of weeks ago when her head was on straighter and her mind hadn't turned to guilt mush. Outrunning them was the only thing that came to mind.

Just to be sure they had the time that might be required, she turned around.
Oh, hell.
"They're getting closer." Her pulse quadrupled. She didn't have the fortitude for another shootout, but she hadn't reached the point where she'd wuss out, either. She was somewhere in that twilight zone of forced complacency.

"Bad news. I think I might have damaged something on the car going over that curb." The weird noises coming from underneath supported his suspicions.

"You're a guy—can't you make a guess whether you did or didn't?" Between the clunking and grinding noises, something was wrong. Could this whole thing get any worse?

"That's a sexist comment." He gave her a look that, despite the circumstances, made her smile. "I'm not a car expert, but the steering is jacked, and the speedometer doesn't seem to want to go over sixty. And then there's that noise that sounds suspiciously like the bottom might drop any second. We gotta bail, but where's the best place?"

"It depends. Do you want them to think we're dead?"

"Dead would be good." He gave her one of those smiles meant to charm again. "What are you thinking?"

"I've got some C-4 in my backpack."

"C-4 in your backpack? You're my new hero. I could kiss you about now." He shook his head. "The file didn't say anything about you being one scary lady."

She shrugged. "You never know when you might run into some bad guys. I believe in being prepared. What do you think?"

"I think it's too risky. It's not like you could lob the things at them like a grenade or something." He looked at her out of the corner of his eye. "You don't have one of those in there too, do you? 'Cause I could totally get behind the grenade thing, even though The Alliance would more than likely kill me for getting a little nuclear on them." He shrugged. "What can I say, it's a guy thing."

She tsked. "Sorry to get your hopes up but no grenades in my backpack. And you're right about the timing thing. By the time we'd be able to detonate the C-4, they'd be wise to our ploy." She sucked in a breath and tried to get her brain to cooperate. "There's a stretch of road ahead that's narrow, hilly, and steep. At least every couple of months somebody ends up going over the edge. If we can get far enough in front of them, jump out of the car or push the car over the edge, the car explodes. We head off to the trail and end up near the train station. From there we can get the hell out of here."

"It doesn't seem like we need to blow it up if we can gain enough on them. We only need about two minutes to give us some breathing space."

She gauged the distance and knew they couldn't make up the time. "Take the next left. Pull into the Walmart parking lot. We'll run inside, but run right out the back. It's about a half-mile from the trail that will lead us to the Alexandria Train Station. There's a train to DC that leaves in a half-hour. If we're quick, we can make it."

"Sounds good." He squealed around the corner. And the Walmart came into view. The cars were a little more than a block behind them now.

He stopped, throwing the car into park. She ran. He followed. They passed through the doors of the nearly deserted store.

"It's straight back, but with the high shelves they'll have a hard time tracking us. We'll zigzag through." When he grasped her hand, she was a little surprised.

Then again, he probably didn't trust her. The feeling was mutual.

Jake had to give her credit. She was good at thinking on her feet. It wasn't the most brilliant plan, but it was the only one possible, given their circumstances. Even if she was holding out on him.

They barreled through the Walmart and pushed through the back doors. Men in back were unloading trucks but didn't pay them much attention as they headed toward the trail.

Nobody was behind them so far. They'd be covered by the woods within moments. He was feeling good about this plan.

She wasn't struggling for breath even though the pace he set was intense. And she had the backpack filled with God-knows-what. His offer to carry it for her had been met with a scowl. Clearly she didn't trust him either. He didn't think the pack weighed much—then again, how much C-4 did she have?

They were sniffing around each other with caution. He'd seen it a million times before. He didn't know her, and she didn't know him, and he sure as hell wasn't going to trust her. And she sure as hell wasn't going to trust him.

And why did she say something about Russians before she caught herself? Was she a triple agent? As if he didn't have enough stuff to sift through.

He suspected she'd try to lose him the first chance she had. Getting lulled into a sense of complacency wasn't going to be an option until he could secure her somehow.

She was holding out on him, and clearly the CIA was doing the same. He had to talk with Jennings and hope he could get to the bottom of it. Getting used as target practice was never something he took kindly to, especially when he thought the toughest part would be getting her to cooperate and separate the truth from BS.

"How much further?" He broke out in a cold sweat. Not being in control of a situation had always been one of his biggest fears. Planning and execution were the keys to success. Followed by knowing whom to trust. A lesson he'd yet to learn.

"About a half-mile."

A little over five minutes later, he saw the outline of what looked like a station, even while a few cars littered the empty parking lot. "If they figure out where we've gone, we're pretty much sitting ducks."

"If they don't know the area, they won't think about the train. At least not right away."

"Those guys seemed like CIA people. Were they?" He needed to poke around some more, and now seemed to be a good time.

Her face went pale. "CIA? I figured they were—"

"Russians? That's what you said before." He waited a beat to let her know he wasn't fooled. Then he turned on the charm. "I can't help you unless you tell me what's going on."

"Except I don't need your help."

"You would have been a sitting duck in that coffee shop if it weren't for me. Not bragging, of course."

She rolled her eyes and increased their pace. "I can see bragging would be quite a stretch for you."

"Ouch, that hurt."

"You'll get over it." She pointed. "There's the station. From DC we can head to New York."

He almost asked her why she wanted to go to New York, but refrained. Chances were she wouldn't answer anyway. "You better hope they haven't figured out we've abandoned the car yet."

"We'll be safe. They didn't seem like the sharpest tools in the shed."

He wanted to ask how she would know that, but didn't. Instead, they rushed into the station. He zipped up his leather jacket and placed a possessive arm around her shoulders.

The last thing he wanted was to be memorable. When she started to pull away, he cinched her closer and walked toward the train. "If you could act a little bit like you like me that might help our cause. We've got to blend in."

It didn't take long for them to arrive at the station in DC. So far no trouble, which made him a little nervous. He knew how these types of guys operated, and they wouldn't give up easily. It couldn't have taken them long to track them to the station. It wouldn't take much initiative to figure out they went to DC, where they could hop on a train to another city.

He pointed to the sign above the ticket counter. "I live in New York. We can hunker down and figure out who's after you and why. Once we find that out, we'll be in a better position to turn this thing against them."

"I'm all for that, except I can figure this out on my own."

"Did you forget we're a team now?"

"You know darn well I'm going to cut you loose as soon as I can. If you haven't figured that out, you're not as smart as somebody who works for The Alliance should be."

"That doesn't mean you'll be successful."

"Being in New York puts you at an advantage, to be sure."

"This isn't about who has the upper hand. This is about keeping you safe. What part of that don't you understand?"

"The part where I need you to keep me safe. I'm a trained CIA agent. I don't need any wannabe to think he can come charging in and sweep me out of danger."

"I'm your partner, not your rescuer." And her judge and jury at the same time. What an effed-up assignment. She didn't want him. He wasn't sure he wanted to be responsible for her wellbeing, either.

"I don't work with partners."

"Neither do I, except for my siblings. But I guess there's a first time for everything."

By the time they pulled into Grand Central Station, Jake knew he was in trouble. With the crush of the early morning crowd, along with a sprinkle of Christmas shoppers into the city, this had all the makings of a gigantic mistake. He couldn't have picked a worse time to arrive.

He gripped tightly to her bicep as they tunneled through the crowds. Being hemmed in on all sides worked in his favor and allowed his fingers to soften somewhat on her arm.

Seconds later, she brought her elbow back for the perfect strike right at his solar plexus. His breath stalled. Training couldn't prevent the reflexive action of his nerves causing him to double over. He should have seen that coming.

By the time he recovered, she was lost in the sea of bodies sloshing through the morning chaos. The place was a massive structure and seemed even more so as he jostled through the crowd in search of a woman he'd known mere hours, and who had already managed to give him the slip. Because he was taller than most of those around him, he could follow her progress. She plodded on, never taking the time to look back to gauge his progress.

"Tessa," he shouted into the crowd without so much as a backward glance from her.

He lost track of her momentarily and used a chair at the shoeshine station to get a better view. The shiner wasn't very happy until Jake flipped him a fifty for his trouble. He spotted the top of her head, and then she disappeared into the rush of commuters. The idea of failure crashed inside his brain. No effin' way. Finally he spotted her heading for the escalator on her way out.

Damn.

He jumped down from the chair. Once she hit the street, his job became twice as tough. Based on the file, she had a friend named Nick who lived in New York, but he wouldn't be her first choice, knowing that was where he'd look.

He tackled the stairs two at a time while she hit the door. He was almost close enough to grab her jacket. Just a few strides and he'd have her.

"Tessa."

The only evidence she'd heard from him was the uptick in speed as she hit the sidewalk and headed down Park Avenue. She weaved around the crush of pedestrians at a trot.

He'd closed the gap by the time she turned onto 59
th
Street. If she knew anything about the geography of the area, she'd head toward Central Park. He was gaining on her, and she knew it.

He overtook her at the park entrance, coming beside to keep pace. "Running isn't the answer." She twisted away from his touch and jogged into the park.

She ignored him, as well as the police officer who trotted past on a horse. Instead, she followed the path along the pond before she stopped and turned on him. He caught the elbow strike aimed at his neck, diverting it to the side. She wasn't playing. But neither was he.

She struck between his legs, but he skirted away at the last minute. This sparring match could go on indefinitely. "Tessa, I'm not the bad guy here." No wonder he couldn't figure out when someone was lying to him. He'd perfected the skill himself.

"Somebody ransacked my house and tried to kill me. I still don't know what your part is in that." Her breathe sounded labored as she scrutinized him.

"I work for The Alliance. I was hired to make sure you're safe."

"The Alliance. Pfft. You guys don't really exist. It's all smoke and mirrors."

He pounded his chest. "Feels pretty real to me." Overcoming her was doable, but not the right move if he wanted to gain her trust. This would be a waiting game. He inched closer.

"I'll start screaming if you don't back off."

"But you won't. The police would get involved, and that would cause all kinds of trouble for you." He'd called her bluff. Based on the sour expression on her face, she realized she'd backed herself into a corner.

Were the guys after her Russian, or was that her paranoia? Could they be a rogue CIA group wanting to exact revenge? Regardless of whoever was after her, they were gearing up for strike two. Right now they could be circling for the kill while the two of them engaged in a standoff in the middle of Central Park.