Heart of a Hero (62 page)

“Not at all,” Quince argued, sounding less than his debonair self. “I was…looking for someone…else.” His eyes narrowed. “Where did you get that weapon?”

Eric didn’t hesitate, banking on the hope that Quince was only searching for his missing computer tech. “Off the little man who was searching our room when we arrived.”

“Where is he now?” Quince demanded, his fear obviously lessening with each second Eric allowed him to live.

Eric nodded toward the window. “He escaped. An eel, that one. If I see him again, he is dead.”

Quince’s jaw slid sideways in an expression of doubt. “It is three floors down to the terrace. Are you saying he survived such a drop and ran away?”

“Frankly, I don’t care.” Eric lowered the weapon marginally. “Should I assume his search was unauthorized? You should know by now that Aurora and I have nothing to hide from you.”

“So I do,” Quince agreed. “No, I gave no one permission to search these rooms or to be here for any other purpose. Now if you wish to stay in my good graces, Jarad, please give me the gun.”

Eric laughed. “Be satisfied that I have not used it.” He glanced again at the window and added, “Yet.”

He added a smug chuckle. “I won’t kill you, Quince. You have something I want and there is no way to get it if you’re dead. However, I make no promises as to the others.”

Quince stared at him for several seconds, then shrugged. “Very well. Keep it.” With that, he turned and left the room by the hall door.

Dawn waited until Quince was gone, then turned to Eric. “He doesn’t know we found the control room.”

Eric agreed. He hurried her back into the bathroom. “We have a problem,” he confessed.

She sighed. “They seem to be stacking up on us. What now?”

“I can’t connect with Mercier,” he admitted. “Or anyone else on the team. Looks like we’ll have to wing it.”

“You know what’ll hit the fan when Quince discovers that flash drive is missing.” She looked at their captive. “And if he finds Bozo over there and learns what happened, the jig’s up. He’ll kill us both.”

“We could toss him out the window now,” Eric suggested.

The man’s eyebrows shot up and he began making whining noises.

Dawn caught on. She stood over the guy with her hands on her hips. “He’s okay where he is
if
he’ll stay quiet,” she said pointedly. The whining stopped abruptly. “Better.” She granted the man a smile. “Remain our little secret and you’ll live. Understand?”

He nodded frantically.

Eric loosened the gag and removed it. “We need some answers. Help us and we’ll help you. Who are you and where are you from?”

“Niko. From Ankros on the mainland. All I know is how to wire things. This is all I do. And listen and watch. This is my job.”

“Stop hyperventilating, Niko,” Eric advised. “Take a deep breath.” He waited until the guy calmed down. “Now then. Tell me about the cameras located around the island and who else is watching the footage.”

“Only I was to do that,” Niko insisted. “The feed goes directly to the control room from all of them. I ate and slept
there, only I was not to sleep except during specified hours of the early morning. If things of interest happened, I was to buzz Mr. Quince and advise him immediately. Everything is taped by day and to be saved.”

“Why only you?” Eric asked, though he already knew. The questions were calming Niko, and they needed him to be calm.

“Because there are so few of us, and it is what he hired me to do. The others have their own tasks.”

“When did he hire you, Niko? And for how long?”

“Six days ago. For two weeks, he said. No more and maybe less. A house party, he said, with guests he must watch closely. I think then that he intends blackmail and tell him no, but he promised me it was no such thing, only for his own protection.”

“Were the others here when you arrived? The guards?”

“No. We came out together. Six guards, the butler, two servants and the chef. Quince brought us.”

“Not the captain, but Quince,” Eric stated, nodding. “Thank you, Niko. I’m going to replace your gag now. Don’t be afraid. I promise we will not harm you unless you make noise. This will all be over soon and you’ll go free, back home to your family in Ankros.”

Dawn looked confused. “Six days ago? We were already on Leros then.”

“Maybe that accounts for our delay there. Had to get things set up. But why issue the invitation before everything was ready to go?” He glanced around. “This place was already here, obviously, but is it Quince’s usual lair or a recent buy?”

She sat down on the edge of the tub, her hands clasped in her lap. “Odd. What do you think it means?”

“That Quince is running with a skeleton crew that
probably knows nothing about what he’s doing. Something’s off about this. Way off.”

Eric considered how the game had run this far. “It’s almost as if he doesn’t know what to do next and he’s just hoping we’ll bump one another off so he won’t have to complete the deal.” He scoffed. “He even let me keep the gun.”

“Oh, he’s saving you for me,” Dawn said with a smirk. “He’s sure I’m the bullied little wife who’ll be damned glad to get rid of the big, bad overbearing husband. Probably means to slip me a ring full of poison for you or something like that.”

“Exactly. He wants me to finish off the others, then you get to take care of me. But, the question is, how does he think he would profit by all that?”

“Maybe he plans to have another auction.”

Eric shook his head. “But why?
We
are the primary buyers. The big money. If he eliminates all of us, he goes with the second-string. Plus, he’s got all the big boys mad as hell because their prize negotiators are missing and presumed dead.”

“Not a bad presumption in some cases. So what do we do now?”

“Find Clay and get him to call in the cavalry with his transmitter. We’ve done about all we can do here.”

A shot rang out somewhere below. Eric rushed out into the hallway and headed for the stairs. “Something’s going down now! C’mon!”

“What do you think…” She was almost running to keep up with his long strides, but he couldn’t afford to slow down if they wanted Quince alive later to give them some answers.

Eric handed her the pistol. “Here, take this.”

She huffed, speeding up as he did. “And what will you do, point your finger and go
bang?
Keep the damned gun.”

“Won’t need it,” he assured her. “Wait here.”

“Like hell,” she muttered, staying right behind him as he pushed into Quince’s study.

M
ohandra had the guard’s automatic to Quince’s head, apparently demanding access to the information they had come to bid on. Eric merely granted him an impatient look and marched directly over to Quince’s desk and began opening drawers.

It had the desired effect. Mohandra redirected his weapon immediately, pointing it at Eric. “What are you doing?” he demanded in Arabic.

“What do you think? Ah, and here it is!” He lifted a disk out of the lower right-hand drawer and plunked it down on the desk. It was labeled a list of artworks, probably for insurance purposes. “You want to bid on it, Ali? Or will you simply take it and run? And if you run, where will you go to avoid my wrath? Kill me and even Bin Laden’s best caves will not be deep enough in the ground to hide you. My people are everywhere and you know it. Put down that weapon and let us conduct business.”

“I think not,” Ali growled, shoving Quince away from him and approaching the desk.

Eric kept his gaze trained on the Arab, his peripheral vision noting Dawn’s quiet moves. She was directly behind Ali now, her weapon drawn, almost touching the back of his head.

Could she fire? Eric knew she had never killed before. Shooting man-shaped targets was one thing; taking a life was quite another. He couldn’t afford to doubt her now.

“Put down the weapon,” she demanded, touching Ali’s neck with the barrel. Surprised, he whirled, but she was faster, ducking the spray of bullets that took out several glass shelves lining the wall above her head. Eric leapt on him from the rear, pinching the nerve in Ali’s wrist that controlled his gun hand. The weapon hit the floor and bounced. Dawn scooped it up and backed away.

But Ali didn’t go down easily. Eric took a sharp blow to the ribs and a fist in the face before he clipped the Arab with a right cross that ended it all.

“Kill him!” Quince ordered in a near scream, pointing frantically at the unconscious man.

“No,” Eric replied, catching his breath. “He will go home in disgrace. It is enough.”

“No, no, it’s not enough. He…he would have killed me!”

Eric turned on him. “Did that possibility never occur to you when you brought us here? That some might not hold to your fancy rules of etiquette?”

“But…but I have what all of you need and if you kill me you can never have it!”

“You are not dealing with mere greed here, Quince. Ali fights a holy war and you are his enemy. He takes what he wants. It’s his way.”

“And yours as well?” Quince asked, straightening his tie, brushing back his hair and recovering a little of his equilibrium.

“Mine as well,” Eric agreed. “But I am a shade more civilized and a good deal more intelligent.”

Heavy booted footsteps thundered down the corridor and two of the guards burst in. “Secure this man and confine him,” Quince ordered.

Dawn had sunk into a crouch in the corner of the room, the two weapons on the floor behind her and out of sight. Eric stood and backed away while the two bound Ali and hauled him away. Odd, that Quince had not ordered
them
to kill the Arab, Eric thought.

Quince left soon after the guards, citing his need for a drink.

“Are you all right?” Eric asked Dawn.

“Fine,” she said, getting up from her crouch and handing him the Uzi. She tucked the pistol back into her pocket. “We’re building a little arsenal here and no one seems to care.”

“You should have shot him,” Eric said firmly. “You can’t afford to hesitate.”

She frowned and propped her free hand on her hip. “I didn’t hesitate. I opted to take him alive.”

Eric laughed at that. “He could have killed you with that volley. Or Quince. Or me, for that matter.”

She worried her bottom lip with her teeth for a second, then admitted. “I couldn’t shoot a man in the back of the head with no warning.”

Eric blew out a frustrated breath. “Fair enough. You did fine.” That’s when he noticed her hands shaking, only a slight tremor. “Come here,” he said softly and opened his arms.

She stepped into them and put her head on his shoulder. He caressed her hair and rested his hand on her neck, massaging it gently. “Will you be all right here if I go out for an hour?” he whispered.

She nodded. “I’ve got the pistol.” “Next time, don’t think. Just shoot, okay?” “A thousand pardons,
Jarad,”
she said with a wry twist of her lips. “Be careful yourself.”

“Stay out of everyone’s way until I get back.” Eric didn’t like leaving her, but he needed to locate Clay and get the team in here. Things were falling apart fast and would collapse with a bang once Quince found out his prize was missing, but he was so shaken up right now, he’d be busy hitting the bottle. God only knew where the Russian or Cal Markham were, but they had no reason to bother Dawn.

Staying out of the way sounded good to Dawn. She’d had about all the excitement she could stand for the day. If she wasn’t supposed to be converted, she’d be joining Quince in the lounge for a good stiff drink. Having your hair parted with a few Uzi rounds tended to make a girl pretty thirsty. Maybe she would go anyway and have a glass of juice or something and keep an eye on Quince.

She patted the pistol in her pocket and tried to walk without a betraying wobble in her knees.

Quince greeted her with more aplomb than she expected. Great recovery time, she had to give him that much. “Would you care for a brandy?” he asked, sipping his own.

She made a face. “I don’t dare, but thank you for thinking of me.” With a sigh, she helped herself to a bottled fruit juice from the small refrigerator behind the bar.

“Where is Jarad?” he asked. “And how is it he trusts you to wander around alone all of a sudden?”

Dawn took a deep draught of the juice and swallowed before answering. “He was upset and went out for a walk to cool his temper. He does that.”

Quince nodded knowingly, his lips pinched in thought. Then he pointed to her with his snifter. “You handled yourself better than most women would under fire. How do you explain that?”

Dawn shrugged. “Jarad’s training.”

“I’m not certain I buy that explanation, Aurora,” Quince told her frankly. “What you did seemed too…professional.” He sighed, his gaze never leaving hers. “Perhaps you are not his wife at all.”

Dawn laughed bitterly. “Believe it. He gives me lessons in self-defense. He’s paranoid about some man accosting me and dishonoring him, you know that. Do you think for a moment Jarad would hire a
woman
to watch his back? Besides, if I were here for that, he would have me out there with him now.” For a minute, Dawn was afraid she had over explained, protested too much.

Quince shrugged. “Quite right.” He smiled, toying with his drink, looking into its depths. “So, have you given any more thought to our plan to free you?”

“What do you have in mind?” Dawn decided to stop playing it coy. He had seen her in action and knew she was no shrinking violet. “It appears you are systematically eliminating all of those you asked to come here. One has to wonder why and whether
any
of us will be allowed to leave. Why should I trust you?”

He rolled the snifter between his palms. “I have eliminated no one.”

“Then, let us say you have encouraged their elimination at every opportunity. Share with me why that is, and I might be inclined to trust you further.”

He leaned forward then in an attitude of strict confidence. Dawn held her breath, certain he was about to give her his reasons. “These men, your husband included, represent the
most evil elements of human society, Aurora. Whatever their reasoning, based on ideology or hunger for power, they are terrorists, bent on destruction. Why should you care—”