Rekindled (Titanium Security Series) (6 page)

The phone quit ringing just as he reached the dresser. When he picked it up he frowned as he saw all the missed texts and voice messages. He checked the call display, saw the same number had called him six times over the past ten minutes. The last text message read
CALL ME NOW, E
.

Evers.

Alex called him back, holding the phone to his ear with his shoulder as he did up the last of the buttons on his shirt. His pulse beat faster as he waited for the call to connect. Something big was up.

Evers answered on the first ring. “Where the fuck were you?”

Alex blinked, his fingers freezing around the final button. “In the shower. Why, what’s going on?”

Evers let out a tight sigh. “Hassani’s escaped.”

Alex’s head snapped up. The mirror in front of him reflected the shock on his face.
No.
“What the fuck are you talking about?”

“I mean he’s
gone
. A group of gunmen dressed as Pak cops attacked the facility right after he came out of recovery. Well-organized, well-armed. They blew up the team’s vehicles and smuggled Hassani out in an unmarked van. They took out the medical team, guys from my team, the CIA guys. I’m talking mass fucking casualties.”

Not possible. The Feds and CIA boys had that place locked down tight.

Alex whirled and grabbed the remote from the dresser. “When?” he demanded as he turned on the TV. A newscast showed a scene of chaos at the site. Upturned vehicles were still burning, strobe lights from emergency vehicles filled the screen.

“Forty-five minutes ago. We’ve got teams scrambling to find him. Apparently they took him in an SUV, possibly in a convoy. We’re interviewing two survivors and tracking security camera footage now.”

Holy shit, Hassani was really out there again.

Fuck. Me.
Alex ran a hand through his damp hair, struggled to keep from exploding. He couldn’t believe this was happening, not after everything it had taken to nail the bastard the first time. “Where are you now?”

“Detention facility.”

“I’ll be there in fifteen minutes. Have a team ready to brief me when I get there.” He hung up before Evers could answer, and shot a text to Gage to meet him in Hunter’s room. Yanking on his boots, Alex grabbed his sidearm and tactical vest before running down the hall to pound on Hunter’s door.

Four seconds later the door swung open. Hunter raised his eyebrows and stepped out of the way as Alex stormed past him into the room. “What the hell’s wrong?”

“Turn on the news,” Alex told him. Hunter frowned but did as he said, just as another knock signaled that Gage had arrived. Alex let him in. “Hassani’s escaped.”

Both men’s gazes snapped to his. “Are you serious?” Hunter asked, his body tensing.

Alex nodded at the screen, jaw tight. “Evers said the team posed as Pak cops. Killed everyone inside and blew up the teams waiting in vehicles outside. Whoever they were, they weren’t amateurs.”

“No fucking way,” Gage muttered as he watched the footage. “No way he planned this from inside that cell. Somebody’s helping him from the outside.”

“No doubt,” Alex agreed. “We need to find out who that ISI source of his is, A-fucking-SAP.”

“So what now?” Hunter asked as he picked up his shoulder holster from the table and shrugged it on.

Alex was already shooting off more texts to his CIA and NSA contacts. “Get hold of Ellis and Jordyn, get ‘em back here on the next flight out of BWI. We’re going to meet up with Evers at the detention facility right now. Once we’re briefed, we’re gonna find that sonofabitch before he makes it out of the city. The attack was a little over forty-five minutes ago, so he couldn’t have gotten far.”
Yet.

His mind raced as he tried to think what he would do in Hassani’s place, where he would go to regroup and start planning. Not Peshawar again, not this time. Lahore? Karachi? Or would he make another attempt to get back over the border into Afghanistan to meet up with his surviving Taliban pals? Though Alex doubted he’d get a warm reception after the way he’d shot one of the fighters during his desperate attempt at escape in that tunnel beneath the village in the Spin Ghar Mountains.

Alex marched over and shut off the TV. “Let’s go.” He stepped out into the hallway with the others close behind him. They were in for another long night—and maybe several long days. He didn’t care how long it took, he just knew they had to find Hassani,
fast
, before he reactivated more of his sleeper network and vanished.

As he strode down the hall, Alex’s jaw clenched. Not only had they just lost their number one high value target, the meeting with Grace and the chance for forgiveness he’d waited four years for was now postponed indefinitely.

It only made him hate Hassani more.

Grace fiddled with her glass of sparkling water as she waited in the hotel lounge for Alex to show up. She’d love something stronger to fortify her for the coming confrontation—say, four or five glasses of strong red wine—but she didn’t want anything to dull her mind. Or her tongue, for that matter.

She felt like she might explode if she didn’t get the chance to finally unload everything she’d kept carefully locked up inside her these past four years. Talking to her sister on the phone earlier had only helped relieve the pressure a little, and she knew her sister had probably alerted their parents the moment she’d gotten off the phone with her. Grace felt bad about that. Everyone was already concerned enough about her without this new complication. Since the terror attack her entire family worried far too much about the dangers of her job. But Grace loved her work and had long ago accepted the inherent risks that came with it.

Those risks had never included Alex Rycroft before, however.

She rubbed at the back of her neck where the muscles were stiff and sore from the fender bender, and looked around the lounge. About a dozen other hotel guests were scattered amongst the other tables, mostly businessmen in suits, a few couples.

Turning her gaze toward the room’s entrance where Alex would show up soon, the butterflies in her stomach stirred to life once again. All afternoon since the lengthy meeting to finalize the agreement they would present to the Syrian delegation, she’d gone over what she wanted to say to him, and the questions she wanted answers to. She didn’t plan to give him the chance to take over the conversation. The man was lethally charming, and a skilled liar. No, she was going to get the information she wanted, say what she had to say, then leave.

Realizing she was still fiddling with her glass, she put her hands in her lap and laced her fingers together to keep from fidgeting. She would
not
let Alex know how nervous she was, or how much the sight of him affected her. Pulling in a calming breath, she turned her attention to one of the TVs mounted on the opposite wall. One of the staff members had turned the channel to an international news station broadcasting in English.

Grace read the
Breaking News
subtitle. From where she was sitting there was no audio, but she could see the picture clearly enough. Another bombing right here in Islamabad. Eleven people confirmed dead, more still unaccounted for.

Grace continued to watch the footage unfold, keeping an eye on the clock at the bottom of the screen. Alex was already a few minutes late. It wasn’t like him. The man might be a consummate liar, but back when she’d known him—or thought she had anyway—he’d always been on time for everything, and usually a few minutes early. For the first time, doubt began to replace some of her anxiety. He wouldn’t stand her up, would he?

Just then a hotel staff member walked up to her from the bar. “Ms. Fallon?”

“Yes.”

“I have a message for you from a Mr. Rycroft.”

Grace tightened her hands in her lap, steeled herself as she raised her chin. “What did he say?”

“He regrets that he won’t be able to join you this evening. He’s left a number for you to reach him at, and asked that you leave him a message when it’s convenient.”

Oh,
did
he?
Grace took the slip of paper and thanked the man, stifling an ironic laugh. Had she seriously expected anything different? God, would she never learn? She shoved the piece of paper into her purse without looking at it and took a gulp of her water to ease the tightness in her throat. Her gaze strayed back to the TV as a new picture flashed onto the screen. A familiar-looking middle aged Pakistani man with deep set eyes and a neatly trimmed goatee. She stilled in shock as the subtitle changed.

Malik Hassani reported to have escaped U.S. custody

Grace couldn’t believe it. They’d only captured him a few days ago—it’d been all over the news and in the papers and—

Understanding hit. Alex worked for the NSA. He’d undoubtedly been here because of involvement with Hassani’s case. And now the most wanted terrorist on the planet was once again on the loose.

She snatched up her purse to fish the piece of paper out, her stomach sinking as she stared at the number scrawled there.
Alex, what have you gotten yourself into this time?

****

Alex strode into the luxury hotel lobby at just before two in the morning after Evers and another Fed dropped him off at the front doors. When Alex had told him to drive him here rather than their hotel, Evers just grinned and shook his head. Alex wasn’t sure how the Fed had found out about Grace, but was pretty sure either Gage or Hunter had spilled the juicy details about him going all territorial caveman with her after the fender bender. He might be dead on his feet and in desperate need of sleep, but this couldn’t wait. The lobby was empty except for the single employee behind the front desk. Alex headed straight for him.

All night they’d been tracking Hassani, organizing various taskforces and getting people in place to hunt him down. At that moment, six different teams were out doing recon on various target locations, acting on tips from reliable sources about the terrorist’s whereabouts. Alex and his intelligence community counterparts had been in contact with their informants to find out if anyone knew anything about the breakout from the medical facility today. So far nothing useful had been uncovered, and they still didn’t have a firm location for Hassani. It was like the bastard had vanished into thin air.

Alex walked up to the front desk, shifting his mind to the present. Despite the crisis with Hassani, all night he’d been distracted about the situation with Grace. She hadn’t called him, hadn’t even left a text. A small, hopeful part of him had been waiting for her to contact him all night, so he’d kept checking his phone obsessively. It had frustrated the hell out of him that he couldn’t concentrate fully on his job. At midnight he’d finally realized she wasn’t going to call, and since there was nothing more he could do on the Hassani front until he got a fresh lead, he was here to take care of business.

Hunting Hassani down was going to take everything Alex had, and he couldn’t give that without talking to Grace first. Whether she’d listen to anything he said was still anyone’s guess.

“I need to speak with Grace Fallon,” he told the guy at the desk. “It’s an emergency.” Well, it was to him anyway, and it was also the only reason the staff would ever disturb her at this hour.

The clerk’s pleasant expression transformed into one of concern. “Of course, sir. Who shall I tell her is calling?”

“Alex.”
And she might tell me to go to hell
.

“One moment.” He looked up Grace’s room number on the computer and used the desk phone to call up to her room. She must have answered because the guy relayed the message. Alex was aware of his pulse thudding in his ears as he awaited the response. The clerk hung up the phone. “She said you can go right up.” He gave Alex the room number.

Relieved that she was at least willing to meet with him, Alex rode up to the eighth floor and strode down the silent hallway with his stomach full of knots. Even though he’d geared up for this and what might happen, he knew deep down he wasn’t prepared to walk away from her again. Losing her had carved a chunk out of his heart and it had never stopped bleeding. He’d agonized over his decisions that had led to this result every day since. At her door he paused to take a deep breath and knocked quietly. His heart thudded hard against his chest.

The door opened a moment later. Grace stood there dressed in form-fitting yoga pants and a snug black top that hugged her full breasts, her chin length auburn hair all tousled from sleep and her face scrubbed clean. She looked soft and kissable and sexy as hell. Rather than say anything, she leveled those guarded aqua eyes on him for a few heartbeats of silent scrutiny, then stepped aside and gestured for him to come in.

Releasing the breath he’d been holding, he stepped into the suite and glanced around. The sitting room opened up into a kitchenette with granite counters and a stainless steel range. To the right a door led through to what he guessed was the bedroom and connecting bath. He walked toward the large window that overlooked the outdoor pool. At the couch set next to it, he turned to face her. Grace still stood near the door as though she didn’t want to get too close, her arms folded beneath her breasts in a defensive posture.

The air was charged with sudden tension, so thick he could feel it crackling over his nerve endings. She stared at him for another long moment before breaking the taut silence. “Apparently you couldn’t wait until morning to talk to me?”

“No,” he answered simply, and caught the flare of surprise in her eyes at the forcefulness of his answer. “Something important came up, or I would’ve been here at nine like I said I would. Did you get my message?”

“Yeah, I got it.”

At least she didn’t deny it. “You didn’t call, so I came to you.” He’d waited too damn long to see her already.

“I was waiting to call you in the morning. You know, at a more human hour.” She raised an eyebrow in a pointed reminder of how late it was.

Bullshit.
He was willing to bet she’d just have texted him at best and then not returned his messages afterward. He set his hands on his hips. “Well, I’ll be tied up all day, so I’m here now.” He should be sleeping to catch whatever rest he could before he started his work day at five, but there was no way he could do that until they talked.