My Spy (8 page)

But he couldn't hold out forever. He would give his man another week to remember. After that, like it or not, he'd have to get tough.

But first McKade was going to take a trip out West.

A
NNIE
O'T
OOLE
STOOD
IN
THE
DARKNESS,
DISORIENTED AND
restless.

At 2:00
A.M.
, the night air was cool. She shivered a little as lights cut through the distant sky.

A helicopter churned closer. The knowledge that Sam was on board left her nerves jumping. She had read his medical file a dozen times since his transport was finally cleared, and the details were carved into her memory. But how would he look and what would he say? Most of all, would he remember her at all?

The file said nothing about that.

“Ready for your new patient?” Izzy stood beside her on the deserted inland road, connected to his cell phone via a small earphone. Annie was coming to see that the man made staying in touch a high art form.

“Absolutely.”
If you discount my breathing difficulties.
Annie stared at the approaching lights. “I just wish I could be sure that no one else knows about this.”

“The Navy is doing everything they can to take the heat off. They sent out two other choppers tonight from different bases, each bound for a different destination.”

“Decoys?”

Izzy nodded. “It's unlikely that anyone will track Sam's flight here.”

“But it's not impossible.”

Izzy stared into the darkness. “Nothing's impossible.”

The hum of motors grew louder. Annie picked out a darker shape against the racing clouds. “I want to do everything I can
for him,” she said. “But I need to know his outlook. His commitment. How much he'll remember …”

“The medical team at the hospital has filled in a few details about the accident, but they don't want him to be overloaded right now.” Izzy turned, studying Annie in the darkness. “They've decided not to tell him about what happened before the crash. The neurologist felt it would be best for him to piece things together as part of his recovery.”

“So he doesn't know that he's been here before? He won't know me or that we've met?”

“That's about the size of it. The less he's told, the better. His medical team plans to use his rate of recall to assess the recovery.”

Annie laughed tightly. “Sam is going to be furious when he finds out that his doctors want him purposely kept in the dark.”

“Probably,” Izzy agreed. “But it's not our call. His medical team thinks it's the right approach, and that means you two relate strictly as patient and therapist. They don't want him to be sidetracked by personal issues from his past. Right now he has to focus on regaining his fighting performance.”

“I don't like lying,” Annie said tightly.

“We don't have to like it.”

Izzy looked up into the darkness. The air churned. Suddenly lights cut across the slope, trees shaking in the sudden turbulence.

There were no markings or military identification on the helicopter that hovered over the meadow. The high-tech black body looked sinister, like something out of a movie. The Navy was taking no chances with Sam's safety.

Thanks to some juggling, most of Annie's guests were gone, and all but her essential staff had been given time off. The remaining workers had been briefed to avoid Annie's house and to hold all their questions. As far as they knew, Izzy was her only visitor. Now the rest depended on Sam and his determination.

And how much pain he could endure.

Annie had studied his files and spoken to his doctors. She knew he would be facing an enormous amount of pain, especially at first. For his therapy to work, pain would be his constant companion.

She raised her chin, reminding herself to stay calm, to make her concern purely professional. But she kept seeing Sam's face as he'd waved good-bye from the cove.

And then his bloody, broken body captured by a hovering news team.

The lights grew brighter. Against the drone of motors, night turned to blinding day. Sand and pebbles snapped against An-nie's face as she was blown back by turbulence from the blades. Izzy grabbed her arm as the chopper landed and a man in a black jumpsuit leaped to the ground.

Dry mouthed, Annie watched him confer with Izzy, then lean inside the helicopter.

She hadn't smoked a cigarette in eight years, but she had a sudden urge for one now, watching a gurney being lowered to the ground.

Izzy pointed down the hill toward his van, and two men in flight suits hefted the gurney over the ground. Annie followed, picking up bits of conversation as they walked.

“So
this
is the Shangri-la you promised me, Teague? Can't see much in the dark, but the sea must be close, judging by that wind.”

Sam, Annie thought. Her throat tightened painfully.

“Just over the hills,” Izzy said. “How are you doing, ace?”

“Great, as soon as you get me out of this torture device. Tell me about the therapist you found for me. A real dragon lady, right?”

“She has to be a dragon to put up with a hard case like you.”

“Guess you're right.” Sam gave a low bark of laughter. “Hard on the eyes, is she?”

“See for yourself.”

Annie walked ahead, opening the door to the car. With light filtering around her, she took a breath and turned, facing Sam.

His face was pale.

His eyes held no hint of recognition.

It doesn't matter,
she told herself. They'd told her to expect this.

She cleared her throat. “I believe I'm the dragon lady in question.”

“Things must be looking up.” Sam's hand rose, curled around her wrist. “Where have you been all my life, beautiful?”

Annie couldn't speak, assaulted by memories.

“She was doing better things. Why waste her time with a saltwater cowboy like you?” Izzy said.

“Better than being a digital desk jockey like you,” Sam countered. He didn't look away from Annie's face as he spoke.

“Says you. Now let the woman do her work.”

Sam released her hand reluctantly. “Fine. Just get me out of this damned gurney. I can walk with a little effort.”

Izzy glanced at the man in the black jumpsuit, who pursed his lips and shook his head.

Annie gripped the car door, fighting to keep her hands steady. She couldn't let any of them see how shaken she was. So what if Sam didn't remember her? This wasn't
personal
, after all. Her memories would have to be buried deep, where they couldn't interfere with the difficult job before her. “Into the car, tough guy. We'll negotiate the details of your therapy when we get to the house. Then you'll find out exactly what a dragon lady I can be.”

T
HE
VAN
HELD
THE
GURNEY
AND
THE
NEW
ARRIVALS
WITH
INCHES to spare. Annie couldn't see much of Sam until they pulled into the driveway that led up to her house.

Take this one step at a time,
she thought. At least he was strong and his outlook was positive.

Then she looked down and saw that his hand was wrapped around the edge of the gurney's metal frame, clenched tight.

Pain.

And he would never show it.

“I'd say you could use some medication, Mr. McKade.” That was how she'd been instructed to address him. Mister. No military titles. Annie wondered if it was his real name. He'd called himself Sam Mitchell before.

His eyes hardened. “I had a shot two hours ago.”

Behind Izzy the doctor frowned and shook his head slightly, raising six fingers.

“Fine, fine. We'll work out the details later.” Right now her patient needed rest, not arguments, Annie decided. She opened the door and jumped down. “Tomorrow I'll give you the grand tour, including the exercise area and whirlpool. I hope you like exercise, Mr. McKade.”

“Call me Sam.”
As if they were strangers.

“Sam it is.”

“And I like exercise just fine. Always have.” For a moment his eyes were troubled. “At least I think I do. My memory's a little whipped right now.”

“No problem.” Annie forced her voice to stay light as she guided the group inside. “You're right down this hall.” She pointed to a room dominated by a wall of windows framing the dark coast. Only a few lights rocked, far out at sea.

“The king-size bed is yours. You've got a remote control for lights, television, and curtains.”

“All the comforts of home.”

“That's the idea. This handset will page me, wherever I am.”

“Seems like a lot of bother for one man.” Sam sat up awkwardly on the gurney. “When do we start the therapy?”

“Tomorrow.”

Sam nodded, fighting to keep his eyes open. Only tension and pain were keeping him awake now, Annie realized.

Moving behind him, she beckoned to the doctor, holding
up thumb and two fingers as if for an injection. When he nodded, she placed her hands on Sam's face. “Why don't you close your eyes while we help you onto the bed? No sense getting dizzy.” As she spoke, she massaged his forehead, placing her hands along his face.

“Nice hands,” he murmured.

Annie could feel him fighting the tension, fighting sleep. Teaching him to relax would be one of her biggest challenges, since he would fight any hint of weakness.

“Let's get you into bed, shall we?”

His eyes didn't leave her face. “Best offer I've had in weeks.”

Annie helped him maneuver to the bed using crutches. After he was settled, she stood behind him and covered his eyes, massaging his face. Then she nodded at the doctor, who held a prepared syringe. “My hands are going to be important, Sam. Focus on them so you can learn to direct the healing process.”

“You've got my complete focus, ma'am.”

“Good. Stay with me.” Annie skimmed the muscles at his jaw, feeling his tension. “Still with me?”

“Oh, yeah.” His eyes were closed now.

Deception was rotten, but sometimes it couldn't be helped. Annie nodded at the medic. The syringe slanted down, touched Sam's arm, slid home.

He tried to sit up. “What the—”

Annie held him still. “Don't tell me a big tough guy like you is afraid of a teeny widdle needle?”

His lips curved in the hint of a smile. “Yeah, I'm shaking in my boots, Doc. Whatever you do, just don't stop doing that thing with your fingers.”

One hurdle crossed, Annie thought. The pain medication would soon help him sleep. “What I'm doing is cranio-sacral massage and counterpoint balancing, with a little acupressure thrown in for good luck.”

“Lost me there.” He sighed, turning his head toward her hands.

“No need to move. I'll do all the work.”

“This must be illegal. Probably breaks some AMA protocol. Or maybe that's FDA.” His words were beginning to slur.

“We're in California. The only thing that's illegal here is not recycling.”

“Never felt anything so good.” His mouth tightened suddenly. “I don't think I have. Can't remember. Tried damned hard, but I can't.”

“There's no rush,” Annie said soothingly. She moved down to massage his neck and shoulders. “Give it time.”

“Funny.” His eyes opened, narrowed against the pain. “Your voice. It almost seems … familiar.”

Annie kept her smile impersonal. “I bet you use that line on all the ladies, Mr. McKade.”

“Sam.” He shook his head, his face so pale that Annie hurt inside. “Wouldn't use a line, ma'am. Not with someone special like you,” he said gravely.

Emotions fluttered, but Annie shoved them away. “I'm delighted to hear it, Sam. Now close your eyes and relax. You've got all the time in the world.”

He studied her face, frowning. “No. I have to remember.”

“Cool down, Sam.” Izzy touched his arm. “What do you have to remember?”

Sam's hand closed to a fist. He stared down at his locked fingers, breathing heavily. “It's right there. That close.” He looked up at Izzy. “They didn't tell me where the accident happened. All I see are buildings. There are sirens everywhere and I'm trying to hang on, to hold it all together. For them, but I don't remember who.”