Deadly Race (4 page)

For a few seconds Ellie stood transfixed, amazed at the efficiency of Slade. King Kong was trussed and effectively silenced in less than a minute. Where had Slade learned that? Had she stumbled across a James Bond protégé? Maybe Mr. Martinez wanted Slade after all.

“Ellie! We need to move now.”

Acknowledging the wisdom of his words, she quickly followed him to the door, which he opened a crack. Peering out into the hallway, he muttered something she couldn’t hear and shut the door quietly.

“Someone’s coming,” he whispered.

Godzilla. Ellie flipped off the overhead light.

“Good thinking.”

Someone tried the doorknob, slowly opening the unlocked door. Ellie backed away while Slade flattened himself against the wall again.

Round two, she thought as the second goon slipped into the room. This man, though, was alert for trouble and spun around as Slade started to hit him in the back. Godzilla blocked Slade’s arm while swinging his own fist at Slade, hitting him in the stomach.

Groaning, Slade fell back against the wall. With the first bright rays of dawn streaking through the curtain, Ellie could see the attacker raise his gun to shoot Slade. With no time to think, she whirled her purse at the man’s arm, knocking the weapon from his grasp.

In the next instant Slade charged the man, and they both slammed into the floor, rolling over, until Slade had Godzilla pinned down. Ellie rushed for the gun while the man and Slade were locked in a battle of strength.

Ellie gripped the weapon. She hated the feel of the cold metal beneath her fingers. Just then Godzilla heaved Slade from him, at the same time his fist connected with Slade’s jaw. The goon scrambled to his feet, his arms out wide as if he were going to embrace Slade. Shaking his head to clear it, Slade rose, his gaze intent on the intruder.

As Ellie held the gun, indecision warred inside her. She detested violence and weapons, and she had one in her hand. She had to do something fast, but she couldn’t use the gun, didn’t know how to use one. She bit her teeth into her lower lip and watched as Godzilla rushed at Slade and gripped him in a bear hug. Flipping the weapon around, she grasped the barrel and brought the butt end down on the intruder’s head as Slade broke free. Godzilla pitched forward.

“Nice work,” Slade said between gulps of air. “Let’s tie him up and get out of here before someone else shows up. I’m beginning to have my doubts we’re going to be able to leave this room.” Popping noises sounded on the street below, drawing his attention.

“What’s that? Fireworks?”

He moved to the window. “Hardly. More like a revolution at our doorstep. Men with guns are running around.”

“I came to Bella Isla for a little adventure. Never in my wildest dreams did I think I would be plunged into the middle of a revolution.”

“I’m afraid you might have more than a little adventure, Ellie. I’ll see to our friend here while you keep an eye on what’s going on below.”

As Slade took care of Godzilla, Ellie stationed herself at the window and stared down at the chaos erupting on the street in front of the hotel. People were running in every direction, and men dressed in uniforms she hadn’t seen before were swarming into the lobby. She clutched the curtain. Their time was running out. In a few minutes the hotel would be filled with members of the revolutionary army, the one Mr. Martinez controlled. Dread encased her in a cold sweat.

“What’s happening?” Slade asked as he finished his task with Godzilla.

“Soldiers everywhere. Some coming into the hotel.”

He pushed back the curtain. “Definitely a complication.”

Slade grabbed her hand and hurried to the door. When he checked the hallway, this time it was empty. Stepping into the corridor, he looked up and down it, his face set in grim determination. Ignoring the elevators, he ran toward the stairs as several guests came out of their rooms. With Ellie behind him, he raced down five flights. At the bottom he cracked the door open to see out into the lobby. Soldiers crowded the area, rounding up anyone they could find.

“Dead-end. Let’s go.” He started for the basement, but the door was bolted, trapping them in the stairwell. “I guess it’s back up to the second floor. Maybe there’s a way out of here from one of the rooms.”

Ellie’s breath came out in short puffs as she followed Slade back up the stairs. Her lungs burned from the most exercise she’d had in a month. She should have taken Mr. Martinez up on swimming in his Olympic size pool. The only problem was the man had wanted her to do it at night, when everyone else was asleep and with him as her swimming buddy.

At the door to the second floor, while Slade was checking the hallway, she bent over and drew in air. Now she wished that at least she had taken her roommate’s advice and worked out with her at the health club. But Ellie’s idea of exercising was walking to and from her car.

When Slade moved into the corridor, he scanned it. “We could use a miracle about now. Maybe there’s a way out onto the roof of the first—” He halted in mid sentence and practically dragged Ellie behind him to a small set of doors in the wall. “After you.”

“You want me to go down that?” She pointed at the opening in the wall that looked like it led nowhere. “What is it?”

“A laundry chute,” he said while the elevator swished open.

Without giving her a chance to say or do anything else, Slade picked her up and pushed her through the chute’s second floor entrance. As Ellie slid downward, she clamped her lips tightly together to keep her scream inside. Her heart sped as fast as her descent. When she landed with a breath-wrenching thud in a large pile of dirty towels in the basement, the room spun.

Blinking several times, she was trying to get her bearings when she heard Slade. Before she could scramble away, he came barreling down upon her. She managed to roll over partway, but his large body pinned hers, her face pushed down into the pile of smelly, moldy towels. She choked on the odor emitting from the terry cloth, imagining all the germs harbored in its thickness.

Lifting her head, she peered over her shoulder at him. His gaze connected with hers. Her skin tingled where his arm touched her, and she forgot for a heartbeat why they were up to their ears in dirty, stinky laundry. All her senses centered on him, practically on top of her. His distinctive male scent of musk blocked the obnoxious odor of the towels. His intense, mind-shattering regard did more to unnerve her than King Kong or Godzilla pointing a gun at her. The heat of Slade’s touch produced vivid images of a tropical night, with her locked in his embrace.

“Okay?” he asked, slipping his arm off her back as he inched away.

“Yes.” She tore her gaze away from his and slowly counted to ten to regain her composure, which at best was fragile. She pushed herself to a sitting position. “Oh look, I broke a fingernail.” She held up her hand, her fingers spread wide as she inspected her others for damage. “It must have been when I tried to slow my descent.”

Slade threw back his head and laughed. “We could be caught any second, and you’re worried about your nails. Believe me, if those soldiers find us, your nails will be the least of your worries.”

“Do you have any idea how long it took me to grow them?” she asked, not wanting to focus on the trouble they were in. These kinds of things didn’t happen to an ordinary person like her. Breaking her fingernails did and it was much better if she concentrated on that instead of their plight. She didn’t have time to get hysterical on him. She didn’t think he would appreciate that.

“No. I’ll let you tell me about it some other time.” Rising, he grabbed her hand and tugged her to her feet.

She came up flat against him and held onto his arms because her footing was precarious in the mound of towels. As she tilted her head up to stare at him, her pulse rate quickened. He smoothed her hair away from her face, a tender look in his eyes while he gently rubbed his thumb across her cheek.

“Ellie, you’ve got to do as I say. No questions asked. Okay?”

She nodded, her voice captured in her throat by the intensity of his regard.

“We need to get to the airport as quickly as possible, but the streets are filled with soldiers. From the looks of what I’ve seen, the soldiers are part of the revolutionary force. I’m not going to lie to you. Our chances of making it aren’t good.”

Ever since she had escaped from the villa, she had felt that. She wasn’t going to give up as long as she had a breath left in her. She had climbed out of a second story window; she had crept through the dark streets and had tried to sleep in the park the night before even though sleep had escaped her. She could do this. “I understand.” She stepped quickly away from him before she became too comfortable in his arms. “But I don’t think I should go anywhere looking like this.”

His gaze raked the length of her. “You’re right. We wouldn’t get ten feet before being captured, looking the way we do. We have
American
written all over us. We need to disguise ourselves.”

“Well, this is a laundry room. Maybe there are some clothes here we can use.” Ellie saw some lockers against the wall and started checking them. She found several pieces of clothing that could be used to make two outfits for them. “How about these?” She held up a skirt, a pair of pants and two shirts.

“Not bad.” Slade took the pants and the larger of the two shirts and started stripping out of his clothes.

Ellie stared at him a moment, then quickly searched for a more private dressing room. There wasn’t one. “Turn around.”

He glanced up at her, puzzled. “Turn around?”

“Yes.” She gestured with her hand in a circular motion, her gaze feasting on his chest, void of a shirt. Obviously this man visited a health club frequently. He obviously was used to going around without a shirt. It should be declared illegal.

A grin flashed across his face. He presented his back to her and continued to dress in his “native” clothing. The pants and shirt were too tight, revealing every muscle of his well-proportioned body. For a few seconds all Ellie could do was stare at him. His runner’s legs were long columns of male power; his expansive back was riddled with toughened muscles; his waist and hips were slim. A man with a body like that should be declared top secret, she decided, suppressing a whistle of admiration. She diverted her gaze before he discovered she hadn’t moved an inch to dress and quickly went about that task.

She didn’t fare any better than Slade in the “native” department. When she put on her clothes, the skirt’s length was brushing the ground and the shirt was two sizes too big. She decided to wear her black flats because the alternative was oversized combat boots. Saks Fifth Avenue this wasn’t, she thought with a laugh as she inspected her attire.

When Slade faced her, he took one look at all her jewelry—one gold chain, a brooch, gold earrings, two bracelets and several rings— and said, “You can’t wear those. You look like a jewelry store walking down the street. You might as well have ‘I am an American. Come rob me.’ stamped on your forehead.”

The night she had escaped the villa she’d worn every piece of jewelry she owned. She was glad she’d had because when she’d slipped on the damp roof, she’d lost the one bag she’d taken with her besides her purse. “People in Bella Isla wear jewelry,” she said in her defense, even though she knew he was right.

“Not the people who’ll be in the streets.”

“I can’t leave my jewelry behind! I worked hard for it.”

“Put it in your purse, and I’ll carry it in my duffel bag, since the purse is another dead giveaway.”

Ellie removed everything but the brooch. “This was my grandmother’s. It’s my good luck piece. I’m wearing it.”

“You aren’t going to listen to reason, are you?”

She shook her head.

“Then don’t wear it where everyone can see it.”

Ellie pinned the brooch to the inside of her skirt pocket and felt safer knowing it was there. It had seen her unharmed through several scrapes, although nothing like this. She prayed she would continue to be protected.
Lord, I’m counting on you
.

Slade took her hand and pulled her along behind him to the basement door, a hard look in his green eyes that darkened them to the color of a stormy sea. When he determined the coast was clear, they hurried up the stairs to the street above.

“We’d better head away from the airport and circle around the mob out in front of the hotel,” he said as he glanced about him.

At the back entrance to the alley, he plastered himself against the wall and peered out into the street behind the hotel. People were frantically rushing away. Soldiers were entering the end of the street and making a sweep down it.

Slade twisted about to look at Ellie. “We’re going to have to make a run for it. We’ll try and put some of these people between us and the soldiers.”

With his hand tight about hers, Slade darted out into the street and mixed with the panicky crowd. Ellie heard the sound of gunshots behind her and glanced back. A man lay sprawled on the pavement. Briefly squeezing her eyes shut against the sight of the bleeding figure, she quickened her steps.

It didn’t take long for her breathing to become labored, her hair and clothing to become drenched with sweat from the humid heat of Bella Isla. And at the moment, she would give anything for a good pair of running shoes. It took a supreme effort to keep the flats on her feet. If it wasn’t for the rough pavement, she would take them off and go barefooted.