Hush (40 page)

Their boots sounded extraordinarily loud clomping down the corridor. Cam shoved the door open, then stepped aside for them to enter. They saw twin beds, covered in striped, multicolored heavy cotton throws, shoved against the walls; a wide chest of drawers with two lamps on it between them; a reclining easy chair beside a floor lamp; and a partially open door leading to a bathroom. All the comforts of home.

A narrow table, with an open laptop computer on it, also held a tray of covered dishes. The smell of freshly brewed coffee and something spicy made Acadia take one of her first easy breaths of the day. “Thank you.”

“Basic,” Cam assured them. “But clean. No worries about vermin o' any kind in Cam Garcia's place. Before you dig in, I have to show you some of our special features, then I'll leave you two alone for a spell.” He headed for the bathroom, but paused to point a thick finger at the computer. “Savin will be callin' in a few.”

He led them into the bathroom—small and sparse, but clean. The once-white tile was cracked in places, but it smelled like cleanser and the pine air freshener hanging
from the shower rod. Worn rust-colored towels hung on the rack.

“An escape route, if you need it,” Cam offered cheerfully.

Acadia blinked at the man. “Um?”

He pointed to the towels. “Behind the rack,” he explained, and beside her, Zak smothered a laugh. “Pull it toward you and hard to the right. It'll take you downstairs, right by the side door. That opens into a side alley.”

No kidding? This was serious spy stuff, and Acadia's head hurt thinking about it. “Will we be using it?”

“Ah, I hope not, lass,” Cam replied, clapping her much more gently on the shoulder. “But you never know. Now, eat up while you can. I'll just be leavin' you to it.”

“That was … interesting,” Acadia said a few minutes later, as the door closed behind the Scotsman.

“He's a character, all right.” Zak crossed the room to lift the covers off several large platters. “Are you hungry? Looks like he thinks we haven't eaten in a year.”

She shook her head. Any minute now Zak would be leaving. Her heart was beating—she knew it was, otherwise she'd be unconscious. But Acadia couldn't feel anything. She was numb. “I'm having separation anxiety,” she admitted, her feet rooted to the area rug.

Zak crossed the room to take her in his arms. To her horror, her whole body shuddered with the contact. She couldn't control it; his touch had become so profound.

“You'll be safe here. Savin's arranging transportation for you. His people will ensure you get home safely.”

“I know. And I appreciate it, but—”

Zak lifted her chin on his finger. “One thing at a time, okay?”

“Of course.” He was already gone, and she couldn't blame him. His body was here, but his head was in the jungle, climbing the falls. Searching for Gideon.

She stepped out of his arms, which made the feeling of separation a thousand times stronger and the ache in her chest that much bigger. “Have something to eat and a cup of coffee,” she suggested brightly. “You'll probably have a long walk ahead of you.” She poured two cups of strong black java and handed him a mug. Neither of them sat down.

“I'll t—” Zak's words layered over hers as she said at the same time, “Promise me, you'll—”

“Stark.”

They both turned to see Savin's face fill the computer monitor. “Savin,” Zak said. “Appreciate your help.” Marc Savin didn't look much different than he had ten years ago. His dark hair was no longer tied back, and he'd lost the diamond earring. A little older and wiser, but weren't they all?

“Grab a seat, and let's get some shit out of the way before the show starts.” Zak sat on the foot of one of the beds; Acadia stood against the wall, out of camera range.

Marc launched into the plan with clipped efficiency. “First things first. I've assembled a team of four men and a pilot in an Apache helicopter to take you over the target. John Reith is team leader. We have him on speaker in case there's any breaking news,” he added. “The men
hired by Buckner took off from the airfield in a rented chopper seven minutes ago, after returning from the car rental place you sent them to. They weren't happy.” Savin smiled. “Good thinking there.”

Zak's gaze flicked to Acadia, who grinned at him.

“They have a ten-minute head start,” Savin continued. “They'll be landing at the small strip near Angel Falls and walking in the rest of the way. We'll get you over the target and you and my men will rappel down, snatch and grab your brother, and return the same way.”

Acadia didn't watch the screen. She watched Zak, memorizing every detail of his face, his stance, even the way his shoulders tensed as he listened to the plan. But it wasn't fear she saw setting in his suddenly rigid jaw. It was elation.

Rappelling from a helicopter? Busting in before the bad guys to rescue his injured brother, making the grand escape with bullets flying? Even she couldn't deny what a rush it'd be. But, whereas she'd be retching from nerves, Zak was eating it all up like candy.

You're leaving,
she told herself. She just had to remember that.

Savin glanced down at what Acadia assumed were papers of some sort. “Intel tells us that Buckner hasn't been seen since seventeen hundred hours, shortly after you spoke to him this afternoon. Any idea as to his location?”

“Did he fly out?” Zak shrugged. “Hell. I have no idea. Follow the money.”

“We couldn't find evidence of a large cash withdrawal
in any of Buckner's accounts in the last two weeks, Stark. However, prior to that, he made a withdrawal for one hundred million dollars from his account in the Caymans.”

Acadia flinched. That kind of money couldn't possibly be real. But Zak, she noticed, appeared unfazed. “Before the kidnapping,” he pointed out. “But it's money to do with as he likes.”

“I'd be interested to see exactly what that kind of money can do, wouldn't you?”

Wouldn't he just? “You bet,” Zak said dryly, not able to keep the resentment from his voice. “Like fund a well-armed group of guerrillas.”

Savin nodded. “My thoughts exactly. It looks like he put a lot into this before you and your brother even left the States. A lot of cash, a lot of Russian-made weapons, and a lot of manpower.”

“Buck's always been a hard worker,” Zak said bitterly.

“Let's cover a few more bases. Give me the lowdown on Jack Flynn and Michael Cobb.”

Zak narrowed his eyes. “You've certainly been thorough.”

“I'm putting my men and my resources behind you, Stark. I'm dotting all my i's.”

“Fair enough.” Zak impatiently scraped both hands through his hair. “Flynn brought a nuisance suit over ZAG's so-called hostile takeovers. It went nowhere. That was in 2002.”

“And Cobb?”

Ah, Cobb. A massive thorn in the company's side for years. “Cobb worked with ZAG Search in the design
department. To be fair, he did a lot of the early usability and interface work on the website.” Zak translated: “He helped make the website easy to use and accessible to all users, handicapped or otherwise.”

“So?”

“So, he decided to make some extra money by selling his designs to a rival company. We found out, fired him, and he sued us for breach of contract in 2004.” Zak shrugged. “He lost.” It had all been part of doing business. “These are just regular people who got swept up in business deals they weren't ready to handle,” he said. “I can't see any of them carrying out a personal vendetta against me, Gideon, or Buck.” And especially not
with
Buck.

“Anything you haven't told me?”

“Probably quite a lot.” Zak's lips twitched as he got to his feet. “But none of it pertinent.”

“I have forensic accountants and a battery of lawyers going over every inch of ZAG Search's financials.” The calm statement was like a punch to his chest. He forced himself to relax. It had to be done. “Personal
and
business,” Savin added. “If you have anything to hide, Stark, anyone that could slither out of the woodwork, now's the time to share. I don't like sending you or my men blind into a situation like this.”

ZAG Search was his baby, but he let the territorial urge slide. The company was nothing without Gid. “Find Buckner,” he said. “And then find out
why
. None of this makes any sense at all. Yesterday I would have sworn beyond a shadow of a doubt that Buck was innocent of
any wrongdoing, but today he's the only one who looks guilty as hell. And I still don't believe it.”

“What do you know about Adam Paulson?”

All the air left Zak's lungs. Shit. Paulson. He hadn't thought about him since MIT.

“Zak?”

“Right,” he said, frowning. “Adam was part of our little group back in the day. Used to sit around and shoot off ideas with us, but he wasn't willing to pony up the time or any cash to get in on the ground floor of ZAG. He thought we were nuts for ditching college, and he had plans to be a plastic surgeon. Said he'd not only be rich, but be up to his neck in tits and ass before we made our first million.”

“Know what happened to him?”

Zak frowned. “Not really. Last I heard he was in his fifth year of medical school and about a hundred grand in debt with student loans.” He shrugged. “Not sure about the tits and ass part. Why?”

“Nikki Buckner is his sister.”

Zak collapsed back into the chair. “Fuckit. You sure?”

“Yeah, I'm sure. Buckner never mentioned it?”

“No. But I thought Nikki's maiden name was Hibbert.”

“Half siblings. Different fathers.”

“You think Buck's in this for Paulson?” That made even less sense than Buck doing it for his own convoluted reasons.

“Or Paulson thinks you three owe him and is using Buck as a scapegoat to bring you all down together in
one neat little bundle. ‘A house divided against itself cannot stand,' and all that bullshit.”

“But how?”

Savin shrugged. “If Paulson and Nikki are close, she could be the one pulling the money out of the account,” he suggested. “Setting up her husband. Or, hell, Paulson could be blackmailing your partner with dirt he's got on Nikki. God only knows, but offhand, I can think of half a dozen ways to wring money out of a rich man.”

Zak thought about it, staring up at the ceiling. “I hate to say it, but it makes sense.”

“I'll keep working on it from this angle. In the meantime, give us an update on those coordinates.”

Zak rattled off the numbers. The last few numbers were changing very slowly. Gideon was on the move. Question was: alone, or under armed guard?

“They're moving him.” Savin spoke to someone off-camera, then faced forward again. “Time to go. Your team is refueling, checking ordnance, and will be ready as soon as you get there.” Savin stared straight at Zak. His eyebrows knotted over a stare so intense, it made even Zak want to stand at attention and salute. “We'll find him, one way or the other. Reith is downstairs waiting to take you to the airport. Good luck.” The screen went dark.

For a long moment, the room was silent.

Acadia stirred. “God. Can he do that?” She stood, her voice shaky. “Just go digging into your life like that? Is that even legal?” She rubbed her upper arms, face pale and strained.

Zak didn't know for sure, but the man was helping him. So he shrugged. “I have nothing to hide, and frankly, even if I did, if it means tracking down whoever is responsible for doing this to Gideon, then I don't give a fuck what he finds.” Zak held out his hand, meeting her wide eyes across the dim room. They brimmed with emotion, worry. For him, he knew. And something softer. Sweeter. His chest kicked hard. “Walk down with me?”

She slipped her fingers in his, and he brought their joined hands to his lips, kissing her ringless fingers and marveling that something so fragile-looking could be so damned capable.

He stepped down onto the cracked black-and-white tile of the lobby, then turned to place his hands on her hips. She stood a step above him, so they were eye-to-eye. “Don't talk to strangers.”
Stay safe. Don't do anything fucking stupid in the name of bravery. Be here when I get back.
But she wouldn't be there. She'd be on her way home while he went to get Gideon. Zak didn't say any of those things.

“I promise,” she whispered softly, her soft eyes clouded and lost.

She didn't say anything more either.

THE DOOR CLOSED BEHIND
him with a soft, final click. That was it. He was gone.

Acadia plopped down on the bottom stair as Cam bolted the door behind Zak. Her vision blurred, and she wiped her forearm across her eyes before the tears could form. She'd known it was coming. She had no excuses.

A loud whistle pierced the air, making her jump.

“There, lass, just the kettle,” Cam soothed. “Your man and his brother will be safe and sound before you know it. How about a cuppa tea in the kitchen before I take you to the airport for your flight?”

Acadia gave him a surprised glance. “If I'm leaving right away, why didn't I catch a ride with Zak and the other man?”

“Mine's not to ask the why of it,” he said easily. “Hop on upstairs and get your things, lass. I'll have the tea steeped by the time you come down.”

“Thanks, Cam. I'll be right back.”

Acadia went upstairs, each step heavy with unshed tears and banked emotion. She wished she could stay here, holed up with Cam Garcia, until she saw Zak and Gideon safe and sound with her own two freaking eyes. But no one, particularly Zakary Stark, had suggested she wait. The fact that in a very short time she'd be on a plane and on her way home should've thrilled her. Instead, she almost wished she had had the guts to insist she be allowed to brave the jungle at Zak's side.