Special Forces Rendezvous (16 page)

He initially positioned himself across the street, pressed against a tall wooden fence between two detached houses, also in run-down condition. The field glasses revealed three dark-skinned men brazenly walking past the large bay window at the front of the clapboard house. Interesting. So they weren’t concerned about snipers being perched outside.

He watched for nearly twenty minutes, but he didn’t see anyone else. There were at least four men in there, though. The trio he’d spotted, and Langley’s contact.

Let’s see how many more of you there are.

He abandoned his post and moved several houses down. As he climbed the roof of a darkened home, he prayed that the lack of lighting and no car in the driveway meant the residents were out, because the roof creaked like crazy, making him cringe with every step. Stealth was impossible to achieve when you were scaling walls and roofs that hadn’t seen any maintenance in decades.

The new vantage point provided him a clear line of sight to the side of the house. Two more windows, and a side door. This time he caught a glimpse of Langley’s contact, talking with another stocky, bearded man who didn’t belong to the window trio. The tally went up to five men. Sebastian waited, then relocated once more.

During his third sweep, he spotted none other than Raoul Escobar himself.

A shocked hiss flew out of his mouth.

Fishing his cell phone from his pocket, he quickly dialed Tate’s number. Despite the late hour, Tate picked up on the first ring. “What’s up?”

“I’m pretty sure I just found the location of the ULF terrorist cell,” he murmured, keeping his voice lower than a whisper.

Tate barked out an amazed curse. “You serious?”

“I’m looking at Escobar’s face as we speak. He’s holed up in a house in D.C. with five other ULF soldiers. There could be more, but six total is the current head count.”

“You think the virus is in the house with them?”

“I’m thinking yes. No matter what these bozos call themselves, we both know they’re not real terrorists, at least not in the same league as al Qaeda or other terrorist cells. They released their demands to the press instead of the White House, for chrissake. And honestly? A part of me wonders if they even have a real protocol for
releasing
the virus.”

“Well, they found a way to release it in Dixie,” Tate pointed out.

“Yeah, a tiny town with a tiny water treatment facility that anyone can walk into. They’ll need a lot more planning if they want to release this thing into D.C.’s water supply.”

“D.C.?”

“Makes the most sense. Why else are they holed up here in the city?”

Tate was silent for a second. “This could be a decoy house. Make us think that they’re keeping the virus here and that they plan to release it nearby, but really, there’s another cell in L.A. or New York or God knows where, ready to contaminate the city’s water supply on Escobar’s order.”

“Could be, but Escobar’s presence makes me think otherwise. He’s the leader of this wacko ULF splinter group and my gut tells me he would want to stay close to the virus. It’s his ticket to demolishing the American influence in San Marquez and his quest for national purification, or whatever the hell he was preaching about in that video.”

“Well, either way, Escobar needs to be taken into custody. Can you handle it?”

Sebastian’s gaze drifted to the ULF house, such a small, innocuous structure yet too damn big for one man to tackle on his own, even a man as well-trained as he was.

“No can do, Captain. We’re looking at nine potential escape routes—front, back, side doors, six windows. If I burst into the place guns blazing, I might take down a tango or two, but I won’t get them all, and there’s no guarantee I’ll get Escobar. With all those exit points, these tangos will have multiple places to flee like rats. And I should note—I have no idea what kind of hardware they’re packing. I counted six or seven assault rifles inside, AKs and M16s, but there aren’t any guards posted at the exterior, and no perimeter whatsoever.”

“Which means they’re confident about the interior security measures they’ve employed,” Tate finished. “My guess? The entire place is rigged to explode.”

“That’s what I was thinking.” Sebastian released a heavy breath. “I can’t breach this house on my own, Captain. Not without the risk of Escobar or one of his men escaping with the virus.”

“I could send Prescott.”

“Still won’t be enough.” Clenching his teeth, he stared at the house in the distance, then sighed again. “There’s only one thing I can do.”

“Which is?”

“Officially come out of hiding and turn myself in.”

Chapter 14

W
hen Sebastian strode into the motel room several hours later, Julia had never been happier to see anyone in her entire life. He’d kept his promise and called her on the prepaid phone to let her know he was on his way back, but she still hadn’t been able to breathe easy, not until she saw him in person, saw with her own two eyes that he was okay.

And he looked more than okay. Her warrior was back, his gray eyes glittering with menace as he spotted Stephen Langley sitting stiffly at the kitchenette. Julia had brought Langley back to the motel room after his illicit rendezvous, claiming that it was for his own protection and that he needed to stay out of sight while the DHS conducted reconnaissance. She’d led Langley to believe that Sebastian and an entire team of special agents were pursuing the terrorist, when in fact it was a solo recon mission on Sebastian’s part.

Yet he was no longer working solo, she realized once two men in dark suits followed him into the room.

Federal agents.
Real
ones, she thought, noticing the Department of Defense ID cards affixed to their suit jackets. The taller of the men, a light-skinned African-American with piercing brown eyes, removed a pair of handcuffs from his pocket as he headed for Langley.

“Please come with us, Dr. Langley,” he said in a monotone voice.

Langley instantly shot to his feet. “What the hell are you talking about? What’s going on?”

With a shrug, Sebastian went to Julia and brushed a kiss on her lips before turning to the scientist. “These gentlemen are going to escort you to the Pentagon. I believe every alphabet agency in existence is interested in talking to you.”

Like a wild animal about to be trapped in a cage, Langley backed into the wall, eyeing the handcuffs with misgiving. “Why does he have the cuffs?” Accusation rang in his tone. “I signed the agreement, damn it! That means you can’t place me under arr—”

Sebastian interrupted. “Oh, that. Well, you see...” He offered a what-can-you-do? gesture. “We weren’t authorized to make any sort of deal with you. In fact, Agent Swanson and Agent Francis don’t exactly exist.”

Langley’s face turned redder than a fire truck. “You lied to me?”

“Sorry.” Now Sebastian merely shrugged.

“You’re not Homeland Security?”

Another shrug. “Not really.”

The real federal agents advanced on the livid scientist. As the metal cuffs snapped around his wrists, the man cursed up a blue streak and proceeded to hurl threats at every single person in the room. Suppressing a sigh, Julia watched as the federal agents escorted Stephen Langley out the door. She could still hear his incensed shouts even after the door closed, and a few minutes later, a car engine roared to life.

She turned to Sebastian with a quizzical look. “You called the DoD?”

“I had no choice.”

Taking her hand, he led her to the bed, where they sat down so he could bring her up to date on what he’d discovered during his surveillance. “I couldn’t have infiltrated that house on my own,” he finished. “So I contacted Brent. He’s sending a car for us in two hours.”

Confusion spiraled through her. “Where are we going?”

“We’ll be debriefed at the Pentagon, and Brent promised to keep you safe while I’m gone.”

Now a rush of fear chilled her body. “What do you mean, ‘when you’re gone’?”

Sebastian clasped her suddenly frozen hand, gently stroking her palm. “I’m going to be part of the assault team. They’re dispatching an elite military force to apprehend Escobar and secure the virus if it’s on the premises.”

To her mortification, tears stung her eyes. God, what was the matter with her? She was a doctor who’d seen unimaginable horrors. She wasn’t programmed with silly feminine responses like bursting into tears for no good reason.

She quickly attempted to collect herself and rein in her emotions. “Brent’s letting you do that, even though you’re no longer active-duty?”

“He suggested it. In fact, he was adamant that I be on the team, because I just spent the entire evening staking out the place.” Sebastian squeezed her hand. “Don’t look so worried, Doc. Chances are, this op will go down without a single hiccup.”

“Chances are?” She choked out a laugh. “That’s not at all reassuring, Sebastian.”

His features softened. “You know I’m not one to offer false assurances. So yes, there’s also a chance there
will
be hiccups. A lot of them.”

When he hesitated, Julia’s guard shot up. “What aren’t you telling me?”

“There was a disconcerting lack of external security at the house,” he admitted, rubbing his hand over the five-o’clock shadow darkening his jaw.

She frowned. “What does that mean?”

“It means there’s a possibility that we’ll encounter some nasty surprises when we get inside. Explosives are the likeliest option.”

Her throat tightened with fear. “You mean you might get blown to smithereens once you enter the house?”

“Maybe.”

“Or walk into some booby trap straight out of the
Saw
franchise?” Julia’s heart was beating so rapidly that she started to feel light-headed.

“I’m fairly confident we won’t encounter any horror-movie contraptions.”

Sebastian had the nerve to laugh, but Julia couldn’t bring herself to feel an ounce of humor about any of this. He was being so damn cavalier about the notion that he might get blown up and it made her want to kick him.

“Hey, come on now.” He slid closer. “Get that crease out of your forehead.” His fingertips massaged the worried groove beneath her hairline. “Chances are, I’ll be just fine.”

“Stop saying
chances are!
”

He chuckled, then brushed his lips over hers in a tender kiss. “Don’t go all scaredy-cat on me, not this late in the game.” He peppered more kisses on her mouth before dipping his head to press his lips to the hollow of her throat. “You’ve been so ridiculously brave since this all started, and it’s impressed the hell outta me. So show me that iron strength of yours.”

A ribbon of emotion uncurled in her chest, circling her heart, sending rays of warmth through her body. She leaned forward and rested her cheek on Sebastian’s muscular chest, listening to the steady beating of his heart. “I don’t want you to get blown up,” she whispered.

The sound of his laughter vibrated in her ear. “I don’t particularly want to get blown up either.”

He rubbed her back, then reached up and started pulling out the pins holding her hair up. When her hair was free from its confining chignon, Sebastian threaded his fingers through her long brown tresses, his touch sweet and soothing. Eventually he broke the contact, hopping to his feet and dropping the pile of hairpins on the table before heading back to the bed.

He just stood there for a second, sweeping his gaze over her, his gray eyes softer than she’d ever seen them.

“Take off your clothes,” he said gruffly.

She snapped into action. She slid her jacket off her shoulders and began unbuttoning her white blouse. As she hurriedly undressed, Sebastian did the same, and soon they were both naked, standing at the foot of the bed, watching each other.

She’d never really considered herself beautiful, but somehow Sebastian made her feel that way. When he looked at her, it was with such reverence, such wonder, such passion. Like she was the most appealing creature on the planet.

And he was equally appealing to her. She stepped closer and ran her hands over the hard planes of his chest, skimming his defined pecs and washboard abdomen and the trail of dark hair that arrowed down to his groin.

He groaned. “I love it when you touch me, Doc.”

Smiling, she continued to explore, petting and caressing and teasing until her hand finally made its way south to encircle his erection.

“So is this why the car isn’t coming for a couple of hours?” she teased. “Were you the one who asked Brent for the two-hour window?”

“Yes,” he admitted.

She laughed. “Well, I hope you didn’t tell him why.”

“No, but I’m sure he knows. All anyone has to do is take a good look at my face whenever you’re around and they’ll know
exactly
how much I want you.”

Her breath caught. “And how much is that?”

“A lot,” he said simply, and then his eyes grew heavy-lidded and he crushed his mouth over hers.

The kiss made Julia’s head spin. Hot, passionate, demanding. He kissed her like they had only a minute to live and he needed to make every second count, every thrust of tongue and glide of lips and nip of the teeth
had
to count. That same urgency was present when he scooped her into his arms and lowered her onto the mattress.

His warm, naked body covered hers, callused hands exploring her feverish flesh and stoking the fire of arousal smoldering inside her. Tension gathered between her legs. Her heartbeat accelerated like a Formula 1 race car. Her breasts tingled. Nipples puckered. A knot of restless desperation started to build, until she was digging her nails into the hard sinew of Sebastian’s back and begging him to enter her.

With a husky laugh, he grabbed a condom from the nightstand and sheathed himself. She expected him to plunge deep, to fill her with one passionate stroke, but his urgency seemed to have dissipated, replaced by slow tenderness.

His eyes shone like gray diamonds as he peered down at her, awe overtaking his handsome face. “How do you do this to me?” he murmured.

She swallowed. “Do what?”

Rather than answer, he kissed her again, his tongue sliding into her mouth at the same time his cock slid into her core. Her body stretched to accommodate him, and the feeling of sheer completion overwhelmed her. She didn’t know what was happening between them, but something felt...different.

He made love to her with such exquisite tenderness she wanted to cry again. Each slow, gentle stroke stirred her senses and brought her closer to the precipice. When he slid one hand to where their bodies were joined and feathered his thumb over her swollen bud, she moaned and rocked her hips, welcoming the rush of pleasure. Her climax sent her soaring, and as her heart pounded like a drum and her body trembled with bliss, she heard Sebastian’s hoarse cry, felt him grow still, felt his muscles tense as he let himself go.

Afterward, he rolled over and got rid of the condom, while Julia stared up at the cracked plaster ceiling. Stunned. Confused.

And happier than she’d ever been in her life.

Sebastian returned to bed and stretched out beside her. He fumbled for her hand and intertwined their fingers, keeping their locked fingers between their naked bodies as they lay in contented silence.

“Julia.” His voice was gravelly.

“Yeah?”

“If for some reason I don’t come back from that op tomorrow...”

Panic constricted her heart. “Hey, don’t say that. You’re not going to get blown up, damn it.”

“I know.” He paused. “At least I hope not.” Another pause. “But just humor me, okay? If I don’t come back, there’s something I need you to know.”

Unsettled, she moved onto her side and studied his profile. She couldn’t decipher the strange expression on his face, and that only troubled her more. “What is it?” she asked.

After a long moment of hesitation, he breathed in deep, then exhaled in a fast rush. “If I could offer you more than a casual affair, I would.”

Surprise lifted her eyebrows. Okay. Well, she hadn’t been expecting
that.

But he wasn’t done surprising her.

“I could fall in love with you, Doc.”

Now her mouth fell open, and with her brows up at her hairline and her jaw down at her feet, she knew she must make a comical sight. She had no clue how to respond to either of those revelations, so she opted for, “Huh?”

Sebastian sighed. “I’m not making any sense, am I? I...I’m cursed, Julia. I’m totally freaking cursed, and that’s why I try not to get close to people.” An endearing crack broke his voice in half. “I can’t love you. Do you understand?”

Sheer and utter confusion left her speechless for an entire minute. And then she shook her head repeatedly and sat up. She wasn’t even self-conscious of her nudity, that’s how bewildered she was.

“No, I don’t understand,” she burst out. “What do you mean, you’re cursed, and you
can’t
love me?”

He moved into a sitting position, too, leaning his head against the wall. His expression conveyed nothing but anguish. “I get people killed, Doc. Everyone I love dies. Because of me.”

The odd confession caught her off guard. “I’m sure that’s not true.”

“It is.” His powerful body emitted thick waves of sorrow. “I had a twin brother, you know. Michael.”

She blinked. “You did?”

“Mmm-hmm. We were identical twins. He drowned when we were twelve years old.” Sebastian turned his head to meet her eyes. “It was my fault.”

Julia instantly slid closer and reached for his hand. She found it was trembling. “I don’t believe that,” she said firmly.

“It’s true.” He gave a bitter shake of his head. “Michael and I couldn’t have been more different. He was the serious, studious type. I was the reckless thrill seeker. I always talked him into doing the craziest stunts, though I think half the time he agreed to come along so he could keep an eye on me. He always warned me I’d get seriously hurt one day.”

When Sebastian went quiet, she didn’t push him to go on. The pain in his eyes sent an ache to her heart, and the dull note in his voice brought the fresh sting of tears to her eyes.

“But he was the one who got hurt in the end,” Sebastian mumbled. “One night I convinced him to sneak out of our house after midnight so we could go late-night fishing at the lake about half a mile from our property. He bitched and moaned, but ended up coming with me, and we grabbed our rods and tackle boxes from the porch and ran off to the lake. After fifteen minutes without a single bite, I got bored of fishing and decided it would be fun to go skinny-dipping.”

Another silence descended. Julia suddenly felt queasy.

“So we shucked our clothes and jumped in the lake. Swimming, splashing, seeing who could hold our breath underwater the longest. I won with a time of ninety seconds. But me being me, I got bored of swimming as fast as I tired of fishing. Michael wanted to stay in the water for a bit, so I left him in the middle of the lake. When I reached the shore, I turned around to look at the water, and he was gone.”