Undercover Lover (32 page)

Simon, you never failed me before. Why now?

The thought surprised him. He hadn’t realized he’d relied on the man so heavily, or trusted in him so completely. With a leaden heart, he connected the detonator and turned to go.

“Been watching too much
James Bond
again?” Simon asked, crawling head first through the hole in the wall.

Startled, Günter dropped the knife he’d been using to cut the wires. It flipped in a sideways arc and nicked the ignition wire. He closed his eyes and opened them a minute later when the
boom
didn’t come.

“You’re too late,” Günter answered, retrieving the knife.

Simon studied the crisscross of wires and toed the detonator. He looked up at Günter, a thoughtful expression on his face.

“You could find a way to send them down here to me one at a time,” he offered.

“And if you fail?”

A sly smile—much too sinister to sit right on Simon’s features—gave Günter the first flutter of hope he’d had since he’d seen Jenny walk away from him yesterday evening. He’d always known there was more darkness underneath that sunny exterior than many people suspected.

“Oh, I won’t fail,” Simon answered, and handed Günter a weapon.

Checking the chamber, he asked, “Where’s everyone else?”

“I never gave the intel to 5.”

“What?” Günter tucked the weapon into the back of his trousers under his shirt. “Are you daft?”

“Saner than you are, apparently,” Simon said, peeling away a piece of the C-4 and examining it between his thumb and forefinger. “I overheard 5 talking about letting you swing no matter how this went down. Seems you made quite a few enemies back in Dublin.”

“So you decided to rescue us yourself? Without backup?” Günter blinked at Simon who stared back at him owlishly. “What kind of plan is that?”

Simon shrugged and flicked the bit of plastic to the floor. “A better one than you blowing yourself to smithereens.”

“How did you know—” Günter started.

“Oh please. You have martyr written all over you,” Simon interjected, then muttered, “dumbass.”

“Still fired,” Günter shot back, beginning to grin.

“Yeah, but you still haven’t given me my last paycheck. Guess I’ll have to make sure you survive until then.”

Günter held out the gun. He’d miss its reassuring weight, but packing heat wasn’t a good idea under the circumstances.

“Take it,” he said. “If they find it on me it’ll alert them to your presence.”

Expression grave, Simon took the weapon and nodded to the exit. “Go.”

Looking back, Günter opened his mouth to tell his friend how glad he was to see him, but before he could get the words out Simon gave him a lopsided grin.

“Yeah, yeah. I know. You couldn’t have done it without me.”

Günter snorted and backed out of the tunnel, his psychological and physical burdens both much lighter than when he’d entered. They weren’t out of the woods yet, but the trees had begun to thin. Maybe…just maybe…now that he had
the professor
at his back, history wouldn’t repeat itself.

* * * * *

Sweat trickled down the small of Jenny’s back despite the damp chill of her underground prison. For each hour that passed she became more grateful for Günter’s simulated kidnapping of her that evening in Oxford. Time seemed to have more relevance, and her thought processes weren’t as jagged as they’d been in the little attic. Fear, she realized, loomed greater in the face of the unknown, and thanks to his training she knew what to expect.

Sure, when they’d grabbed her she’d been terrified. A gun held to her head seemed to have that effect on her. She hadn’t struggled until they’d relaxed their guard in the tunnel, but quickly figured out the prudence in compliance. Without a weapon, the odds of two against one were not in her favor, as her bruised jaw and sore ribs attested.

Growing pressure on her bladder reminded her of Günter’s words during her training—
Go when you have to, where you have to. If you’re lucky it’ll turn your captor off, not on.
At the time, the idea of soiling herself made her wrinkle her nose in disgust. Now, with the likes of the still bleary-eyed Munson circling her like a buzzard, it didn’t seem like such a bad idea. First, however, she’d see if she could get him to loosen her ropes.

With a twist of her head she followed his endless circle around the room’s center support pole. He passed behind her and she shuddered—whether from having him at her back or at the sound of a rat squeaking at the dark end of the not-so-tiny cell, she couldn’t say.

“Hey,” she said.

A clammy hand pressed her hair away from her forehead and tilted her head back. “Did we fuck?” he asked.

“I have to pee,” she answered, hoping it would disgust him.

“I think we did,” he said, and buried his nose in her hair.

“Yeah, well, I didn’t find it very memorable either.” The words flew from her mouth before she could stop them.

He circled to face her. Dark eyes narrowed, he drew back his hand. She closed her eyes and flinched. When the blow didn’t come, she opened them again to peek at him. Voices sounded in the corridor outside the concrete room, distracting him.

Munson stepped away and looked toward the partially open door. Pushing aside the pain in her cheek and skull, Jenny took the opportunity to work at her bonds. The ropes burned her already chafed wrists. She bit back a hiss when the hemp dug into her flesh, but continued working at them until he turned back.

The door swung open on rusty hinges and Alona entered with the disfigured Teso. When they stood together, Jenny could tell how their scars almost formed a line between their bodies—as if they’d huddled together against the blast in Dublin—the fire and shrapnel catching Teso’s scalp as he’d bent over Alona and only been able to protect one side of her body.

Looking at these two, love seemed a strange thing. You didn’t have to be good, or even nice to feel it, apparently. Even evil could die for love.

“What are you staring at?” Alona’s haughty question made Jenny look away.

“I was thinking,” she began, then thought better of the statement.

“Thinking what?” Alona stepped forward, her gown swirling about her long limbs. Before the explosion she must’ve been a truly stunning woman. No wonder Günter loved her.

When she didn’t speak right away, Alona yanked her head back and stared down into her eyes. Jenny could see herself in the depths of her captor’s gaze—disheveled and more than a little frightened.

Attempting to steel herself, she said, “I was thinking even evil will die for love.”

“Evil?” Alona spat the word. “You think I’m evil?”

“Yes.” The word stuck in her throat and came out as a croak.

A cold blade lifted her chin.

“Love doesn’t last long without a pretty face.” The woman’s breath, hot on Jenny’s cheek, roiled her already churning stomach.

Rapid footsteps sounded and Günter’s boots appeared in Jenny’s line of sight. He knocked the blade from Alona’s hands and Jenny looked up in time to see Teso point a gun at Günter’s head.

“Remember our deal,” Günter warned.

Teso’s eyes narrowed. “Slowly…retrieve the pocket knife from your trousers and leave it on the table. Back away from Alona. Touch her again, and you’re a dead man.”

“I’m already a dead man,” Günter said, but fished out the knife as instructed. “Find a new threat.”

While the men argued, Jenny used slack she’d discovered in the ropes to begin working the knot free.

“Go check his work,” Teso said to Munson.

Günter stepped closer to Teso. Jenny could almost see him thinking he’d disarm the man once Munson left. Unfortunately, Teso saw his intention too. Whipping his gun up, he pressed it to Jenny’s temple.

Everything stilled. She didn’t dare to so much as blink. Wide-eyed, she searched Günter’s gaze.

Get out of those ropes. Be ready.

His voice echoed in her head as surely as if he’d spoken. Hours of training under his authority helped her intuit his commands without word and obey them…almost…without question.

As if unconcerned, Günter made a show of dusting bits of gravel and dirt from his trousers. Alona looked from Teso to Günter, then at the hall door.

“What’s taking him so long?” she asked after several minutes passed.

Adrenaline blazed a path from the pit of her stomach. Fingers shaking with nerves, she struggled to untie the last knot. She needed one more minute—perhaps two. If they’d just leave her alone for long enough she could get free. Searching out Günter’s gaze she tried to tell him, wordlessly, that he needed to buy her more time.

He stared back at her, expression impassive, then blinked once. Slowly.

Still sitting, he stretched and asked, casually, “Why did Durbin Garvey invent Bengal, Teso? Were you having trouble staying hard for his bitch?”

Jenny sucked in a breath and Alona recoiled at the dangerous statement. The butt of Teso’s gun connected with Günter’s skull in a flash of movement that left no time for defense. Blood bloomed from the gash at Günter’s temple. Blond hair rapidly soaking with red, Günter slumped forward onto the card table.

“You idiot! We need him alive,” Alona said, lifting Günter’s head to look into his eyes.

Frantic to get to Günter, Jenny worked at her ropes. Harsh breathing took over the room and Alona stepped back as Günter turned his head and vomited.

“You concussed him,” Alona screamed at Teso.

Alona’s ringing slap spun Teso’s head as Jenny’s ropes slipped free.

“Who is he to you?” Teso demanded, raising his weapon to point it at Günter. “Do you still love him?”

“I never loved him.” Alona’s hair swirled around her shoulders. “Put your toy away and behave like a man.”

Teso’s hand shook and he backed up a step, still pointing the gun at Günter’s head.

Alona paced to the door. “Where is Munson? What is taking him so long?”

In that unguarded moment, Teso glared at Alona’s back—settled his venomous gaze on Günter, and tightened his finger on the trigger.

Using the pole for leverage, Jenny swung into a high kick and knocked the weapon from Teso’s hand. In slow motion, she saw the gun arc into the air, flipping over and over until it skittered to rest under the table, out of Teso’s reach. Jenny dove, rolling out of the way when Teso lunged for her, and bolted to her feet with the gun held in both her hands. A warning shot brought concrete raining down on Teso’s hair as he rushed her. Unfazed, he kept coming. Aiming lower, she fired again.

Teso clenched his stomach and the room filled with the scent of gunpowder and iron as blood gushed over his hands to puddle on the floor. He staggered toward her. On reflex she fired again. This time he flew backward against the wall. Eyes unseeing, he slid, leaving a bloody trail along the concrete.

Alona screamed and ran to Teso. Reaching him, she collapsed on the floor and held his head to her breast. Sobbing, incoherent, she cradled the dead man to her, rocking him. For a moment, pity welled in Jenny’s chest. This could be her. Mourning Günter. Or him mourning her. So much senseless death. Was this how her mother had felt when she’d watched her father’s body crumple to the floor? Or had she rejoiced to be finally free of his violence?

Eyes closed, skin as pale as death, Günter slid off his chair. Dried blood crusted in a line where it had trickled from his temple past his ear. They needed an ambulance for him. Now.

Fishing in his pocket, she pulled out his phone and entered the password. The cell awakened. Except where she expected to see a screen full of apps, a red background with a white clock sprang to life—counting down from 10:00…9:59…9:58…

Dismay lodged in her throat as she realized the phone had been programmed as a detonation device. Staring, stupefied at the decrementing numbers, she never heard Alona coming.

With a scream, Alona grabbed her by the hair and threw her to the floor. The gun and phone both clattered out of Jenny’s reach. Rolling with Alona, Jenny crashed into the pole where she’d been bound. Rope touched her fingers and she grabbed for it, intent on looping it around the woman’s neck to choke her unconscious.

Greater anger and the element of surprise remained on Alona’s side. In a fury, the woman pummeled her with a flurry of limbs and the rope slipped from Jenny’s grasp. A solid punch to Alona’s jaw snapped her head backward, but the injury only seemed to make her more vicious.

The snick of a blade accompanied a searing pain in Jenny’s chest. Blood bubbled into her mouth. Viscous. Metallic. She retched at its foreign taste. Alona raised the knife higher. Jenny blocked her face and pain bloomed in her arm. A whistling wheeze accompanied her scream. The blade fell again, but this time she only gasped. Fire bathed her lungs with the effort to take in air. Her head lolled to the side and in her peripheral vision she saw Günter’s cell phone…

7:01…7:00…

Metal flashed once more, but instead of pain, she felt no more than a tug as muscle and bone shifted in her shoulder. The pain receded. She floated away into darkness then resurfaced to voices. Shouting.