Dangerous Ground 3: Blood Heat (6 page)

“Why would you?”

“Snatching her from Ramirez was my call, and it was a bad call. We should have sent for backup the minute we located her. You would have if you"d been on your own. I fucked up.”

“You didn"t hold a gun to my head. We both fucked up. Now we"ve got to fix it.

Fast.”

“Right. I just…want you to know that whatever happens, I won"t let it mess up your promotion.”

Will looked away from the road long enough to offer a disbelieving face. “Not this again. I already told you—”

“That you"re not sure you"ll accept the Paris tour. I know.”

“I haven"t decided anything.”

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Josh Lanyon

Taylor nodded. Realizing Will probably couldn"t see that gesture, he said again, “I know.”

“Really? Because every time this comes up, you make it sound like a foregone conclusion that I"m going.”

“No.”

“I
haven’t
made my mind up either way.”

“Yeah. Well…”

“Well what?”

He couldn"t tell him, but that was part of what hurt: the fact that Will was seriously weighing taking this overseas assignment.

“It"s just…ironic. I guess. We knew one of us would get marching orders, but—”

“We thought it would be you.”

“Yeah.”

Taylor was the senior agent and due for promotion, and he"d been back in the States longer than Will. Four years now. But in June, Will had been part of a protection detail for the French president"s wife during her stay in Southern California. Apparently he"d made such a favorable impression that a request had come through the highest channels that he be invited to fill a vacancy at the embassy in Paris.

Taylor summoned his energy and hoped any lack of enthusiasm would be put down to natural fatigue. “It"s a big honor, and it"s an incredible opportunity. A
hell
of an opportunity.”

“So you keep saying.”

“And I"m proud of you. Happy for you.”

Except…

Except it would mean Will would be posted in Paris for a minimum of two years.

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39

Two years apart.

“But?”

“There is no
but
. I"m happy for you. I"m proud of you.” The more he insisted, the less sincere he sounded, and he was afraid Will could hear it.

There was an uncomfortable pause.

“Right.
But
if you"d been offered the assignment, you"d have refused it.”

The bitterness of Will"s tone shocked Taylor silent for an instant. And then he was angry.

“Yeah. I would"ve.” No question in his mind. Taylor had already thought it through, and he"d decided that if he couldn"t avoid another overseas tour, he"d resign. Leaving a job he loved was obviously the final recourse. He was pretty sure that with his excellent record and history of foreign service, he"d be able to postpone another overseas assignment for a couple more years, until he and Will were on more stable ground.

“
Bullshit
.”

The fierceness of Will"s denial shut him up. He shouldn"t have brought it up in any case, least of all now. But the unfairness still rankled. That
was
the way Taylor would have played it, whether Will wanted to believe it or not. Taylor was trying very hard to be supportive of Will—which meant fighting his own worst instincts.

It"d be nice to get a little credit.

“Fine. Forget I said anything.”

“Sure. No problem.”

He could hear the controlled anger vibrating in Will"s voice. Unlike Taylor, it took a lot to rile Will, so he was obviously feeling self-righteous. Maybe Taylor really was in the wrong here. The promotion was Will"s, and Will wanted it. Of course he did. Taylor couldn"t blame him for that. It was a plum assignment, and there was no telling where it might ultimately lead. In fact, if it wasn"t for his relationship with Taylor, Will would probably have accepted the minute he"d been offered the tour.

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Josh Lanyon

Nor had Will been with the service long enough to be as sure declining an overseas posting wouldn"t have a detrimental effect on his career.

There was every reason to accept—and only one to decline. And Taylor knew he was a selfish bastard for even thinking Will should put their still-tentative relationship first. At least he hadn"t committed the cardinal sin of asking. Not in so many words, anyway.

He said, trying to undo some of the damage, “Look, I don"t know how we got off on this. All I meant to say was…I don"t want your choices to be limited because of what we did here tonight.”

“Don"t worry about it. I make my own decisions.” Will scowled, concentrating on the storm-swept road.

True enough, but Taylor knew he"d dragged Will along on this New Mexico detour. Left to his own recognizance, Will would have played this by the book and Kelila Hedwig would now be safely in custody and on her way back to Los Angeles.

For a few minutes, the only sound was the
hiss
of tires on wet road and the beat of the windshield wipers. There was no sign of taillights anywhere in the darkness stretching ahead.

“I believed her,” Taylor said, thinking aloud. “Believed her…fear that she wouldn"t make it back to LA alive. I read genuine terror there.”

It was satisfying, even reassuring, the way Will instantly returned to business as though their earlier argument had never occurred. “That could have been fear of what she"s facing in LA.”

“Yeah. Fair enough.”

And if Hedwig had been telling the truth, maybe Nemov was tasked with making sure she never reached her destination.

He felt rather than saw Will look his way again. “Hey. I trust your instincts, MacAllister.” There was an apology of sorts in there.

Taylor nodded.

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41

“Although you"ve got to get over this notion that you"re bulletproof.”

Taylor snorted.

Will reached over, found his hand, and squeezed briefly before steadying the wheel once more. “It"ll be okay. We got into this together. We"ll get out of it together.”

Taylor nodded, already missing that hard, warm hold. Will had been making more of these physical gestures lately. It was one reason Taylor was pretty sure Will was taking the Paris job, even if he didn"t know it himself yet.

“Any sign of that sonofabitch ahead of us?”

They crested another rise in the road. Taylor scanned the ink-washed world.

“No.” He returned to studying the map by the light of his BlackBerry. “If he avoids the main highways—and he will because he thinks we"ll be looking for him to take the fastest route possible—it should take him over four hours to get to Albuquerque.

Probably more in this weather.”

“Assuming he thinks as logically as you.”

They were both silent as the car seemed to sway, buffeted by a gust of rain, before Will corrected. Visibility was increasingly bad.

Taylor said evenly, “So once we find West Smokey Bear Boulevard, we"ll follow it for about twenty miles.”

“
Jesus Christ
.”

Taylor"s head jerked up. He stared out the windshield, trying to make sense of what he was seeing. A tree seemed to be flying out of the darkness and down the road toward them. The next instant, he realized the uprooted tree was in front of a wall of brown water rushing their way.

Flash flood
. He"d read about them, seen their aftermath on the nightly news, but he"d never witnessed that sheer destructive capability firsthand. The little he knew was enough to freeze his brain.

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Josh Lanyon

In what felt like slow motion, he watched Will wrench the wheel to send the car skating off the road and sliding across the shoulder, heading for the tree-studded hillside. The earth was soft and muddy on the shoulder, and Taylor felt the front tires sink, felt them spinning. Will swore, cut the gas, gunned the motor, then took his foot off the accelerator again. Miraculously, through that alternating on and off of gas and neutral position, they gained traction.

Where the hell were they going?

The car shot forward, bumping and grinding up the grassy slope, ripping out saplings and brush as they went.

They were traveling at a diagonal, the hillside grade too sharp to permit a straight approach.

“Come on, baby.” Will gritted the words out as they plowed through a dense thicket of coarse shrubbery.

Taylor realized he hadn"t taken a breath since they"d left the main highway.

He looked past Will and saw a brown river tumbling just a few feet below them—

where no river had previously existed.

The car"s chassis slammed down on what felt like solid rock. The transmission screeched. The tires spun. They dragged forward another yard and lurched to a stop. The car balanced precariously, the left side tilting downhill. A pinecone hit the windshield and bounced away. It was followed by a tree branch.

“That"s not good.”

Taylor wasn"t aware of speaking until Will, staring down the hillside at the rapidly rising water, released a startled choke of laughter and turned back to him.

“You think? We"ve got to get to higher ground.”

“You can"t drive any farther up this slope.” It seemed to Taylor that Will had defied gravity to get this far.

“No. We"ll have to climb. Move it.” Will pointed. “Your side.”

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43

Taylor shoved the door open against the wind and rain beating down. He crawled out, then held the door, reaching back for Will. Will scooted gingerly across the gearbox and then froze, his knee planted in the passenger seat.

Did the car slide a few inches? Taylor couldn"t tell, but it was only too likely.

“Hurry the hell up, Brandt.” His hand locked on Will"s, and he hauled with all his strength. Will scrabbled out to stand beside him, breathing hard.

The muddy water was steadily rising. Taylor could make out the murky tide through the pelting rain. He stared, fascinated, as the water crept still higher. How could it move so fast?

“Climb.” Will punched him on the shoulder.

Taylor obeyed, turning to climb.

His boots slipped in the pine needles and mud. He grabbed for a low-hanging branch, used it to support himself till he could wrap an arm around a narrow tree trunk. Will was right on his heels.

They left the trees and clambered up a few unsheltered feet. Taylor leaned into the wind and half crawled, half staggered forward. The wet stung his face and knocked the breath out of him. This was July? It felt like December.

A tree branch slapped him in the cheek as they reached another stand. His skin was so numb he barely felt it. What had happened to all that sultry, sodden heat?

Another branch hit him, and he swore. The wind snatched his words away.

Taylor trudged on, slithering every few feet, clutching boulders, branches, jutting roots, anything to keep moving. A quick glance over his shoulder showed the paved road below submerged beneath maybe sixteen feet of water that seemed to boil through the canyon curves like a soup of boulders and tree trunks and pieces of house siding.

Their car had slid back a few feet and was leaning still more alarmingly. It wouldn"t take much to send it toppling down into that flood.

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Josh Lanyon

Vaguely, he wondered if Will had bothered to take out insurance on the rental.

It seemed a trivial concern at the moment, merely a point of curiosity.

“Keep moving.” Will threw the words at him.

Unnecessarily. Taylor might be a city boy, but he was survivalist enough to know that even six inches of water could knock a man off his feet. A foot of water could float a car. The water he saw below them? That much water could wash a small town away.

He continued up the wet hillside, grateful as the trees grew denser, offering a little respite from the wind and wet at last. By then his muscles were burning and he was drenched in sweat, a sobering reminder that if they weren"t in peak physical condition, they"d probably be dead.

After what felt like an eternity, Taylor reached the top of the hill, huddling beneath the dripping branches. He dropped back against the rough trunk of a pine tree and closed his eyes.

Will, shaking with cold and exertion, crawled beside him. Taylor opened his eyes, acknowledging Will"s presence, then closed them again and concentrated on catching his breath.

“Too close,” Will huffed, sounding equally out of breath. “That was too…damned close. You okay?”

Taylor coughed, nodded, and wearily raised his eyelashes. “You?”

Will nodded.

“That was…” Words failed him. He stared at what he could see of Will"s face.

“Among other things, that was the best goddamned driving I ever saw in my life.”

Will laughed shakily, acknowledging what a close call they"d had. Not like their jobs weren"t plenty dangerous enough without Mother Nature getting into the act.

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45

He reached out, hauled Taylor awkwardly into his arms. For a few seconds, the world narrowed down to the hard breaths, to the hard, shaken pound of their hearts through wet clothes, to the hard grip of arms.

Taylor"s wet face was pressed to Will"s; their breath warmed each other"s faces.

“It could have been worse.”

“I"ll say.”

“It could have been my car we left on that mountain.”

Will gave a half laugh. They moved apart enough to study each other.

The night was fading. It was too early to be called dawn yet, but Taylor could just make out the outline of Will"s weary, unshaven face. His deep blue eyes were the only color in the gray world of rain and shadows.