Deep Rising (An Outside the Lines Novel) (Entangled Select) (24 page)

Chapter Twenty-Eight

October 20 - 6:56 pm

La Palma, Canary Islands

Jared paused outside the hotel and stared up at the window of the room he’d shared with Lana. He pictured her as he’d left her, hair cascading in a mess around her pretty face, sheet crumpled at her lap, her porcelain skin shining in the early morning sunlight. Then there’d been that look of horror, the flash of betrayal that had distorted her features with so much pain. He’d wanted to take back every word he’d said.

He knew better. He knew what they shared was real and worth fighting for, but why didn’t she understand that that was exactly what he was doing? They
knew
her identity. These monsters had seen her face. And that sick son of a bitch John Gelonese imposter may have enabled Jared to dismantle the bomb, but that didn’t mean he’d elected to forgo all his murdering terroristic ways. Didn’t she get that she wasn’t safe? That they couldn’t have a real life together with so many variables left on the table?

He sighed.

The keys to the rental car bit into his palm.

He could stay or go. He knew what he had to do, what he
should
do, so why then were his feet cemented to the pavement? He stood upon a precipice much as he had only hours prior. And the choice he made next would forever shape his life. Funny, he’d never really given much thought to the future. His sister’s death, obviously, had forced him to rethink his current career. But it went beyond that with Lana. She’d made him believe that he could have it all. The house, the family, the companionship he’d never even known he’d been missing.

And here he was, spitting on his future.

With a resigned sigh, he trudged back into the hotel. He waved absently at the proprietor and bypassed the elevator for the stairs. He jogged up them, grabbing the metal banister to propel him around the landings at a greater speed. His shoulder slammed into the stairwell door and then he was running down the narrow hallway, hoping the damage he’d created could somehow be fixed.

Their hotel room door was partly ajar, and Jared froze, already fearing the worst. He’d done this. He’d left her. And if the terrorists had somehow tracked her back here…his mind reeled. The very thought of her death…

He had his gun drawn and was pressing into the room before he could allow the thought to fully take shape. What he saw stopped him in his tracks.

Lana stood beside the window, her hand pressed to the glass. She was safe. Dressed to leave, with a small suitcase waiting beside her. She must’ve heard him enter the room. She didn’t bother to turn even when he called her name.

“You don’t deserve me, you know.”

He had to bite back the smile that tugged at his mouth. “You’re right.”

“Need I remind you had I not shown up here you very well could’ve failed to prevent the second explosion?”

He could admit that she’d certainly delayed the terrorists
when she had blindly charged the rift, shooting at anything that moved.

“I would be a fool to overlook your accomplishments, Lana.” She turned to face him and he stepped closer. “And I’d be a fool to leave you again.”

She smiled, but he could see that her eyes and nose were swollen. He’d done that to her, made her cry. God, he hated himself for causing her pain. This woman had been nothing but strong and supportive. She really did deserve someone far better than him.

“I’m going to point out, again, just for the record, the idiocy of your decision.” She ticked off on her fingers. “One, you leave and get
yourself
killed, leaving me, your mother, and your nieces and nephews alone. Two, you leave and someone kills
me
. There is that pesky little problem with being unable to be in two places at the same time. But then perhaps you’d rather go vigilante than be my protector?”

Damn, that was a low blow.

“Three,” she said, “we go home and move on with our lives.” He drew close enough now to reach out and touch her, but he wouldn’t push or press his advantage. He’d done enough of that in the course of their relationship. This time, he needed to allow her to choose. And after the shit he’d pulled, saying sorry might not be enough to set this right.

Her third option, however, wasn’t a viable one.

“Lana, for what it’s worth, I’m sorry.” He raked a hand through his hair. “I don’t do a very good job when it comes to you.” Probably because his emotions were always competing with his better judgment. “But my intentions have always been good. I’d give my life to know you were safe.”

Tears filled her eyes, but he didn’t think they were the sad kind. Then the barest hint of a smile changed her face. “Jared, I think we need to consider a fourth option.”

He moved closer, held his breath until she linked her arms around his neck, and then he just breathed her in. “Oh?” he murmured.

“We finish this,” she said. “Together.”

October 21 – 5:00 pm

Naples, Italy

Jared held the tracking unit. He scrutinized the device as a tiny blinking dot danced along the alleyway and through an empty warehouse toward the docks.

Bleep. Bleep.

As steady as a heartbeat, the signal pulsed on the screen, inching forward, turning from time to time, pausing, and then progressing ahead.

Lana kicked him beneath the table. It would take some getting used to, this “together” stuff. Being with her, that was as easy as breathing. But dragging Lana with him to Naples, keeping her at his side while he conducted recon, worrying about her when he should be focused solely on the assassin who escaped him at La Palma…

“Hey,” she whispered. “You’re grumbling again. Knock it off.”

He gave her hand a brief squeeze, then took a sip of his espresso. From their outside bistro table, they had a clear view of the harbor and docks. The sun was setting over the water, painting the waves in orange and fuchsia. Too bad they weren’t alone, enjoying each other’s company and a vacation to Italy. Like
normal
people. Instead, they were casing the cargo carrier that he’d seen the assassin briefly board, and trailing the bastard around the city of Naples. They had been on the move for hours. The tracking device he’d shot Matteo with forced them to stay within a three-hundred-mile radius, lest they lose the trail. When Matteo caught a flight from La Palma, Randall had piloted them in pursuit. Jared would’ve liked to have kept Randall on hand in case Matteo thought to fly somewhere else, but Randall had been called back into the Agency and to disobey that directive would’ve drawn more attention to him and Lana.

Jared didn’t know what to make of John Gelonese aka Matteo. Lana claimed the man had helped her brother Sergei escape from Hawaii—with CIA aid, no less. Well, hell, he’d known there was corruption somewhere up the ranks, but just how high up did it go? It had to be pretty high for them to facilitate Sergei’s escape the first time and to call the hit on them while at the cabin in Washington. Jared still believed that Gordon was innocent, but this pressed pretty close to the top. The bitch of it was, had there not been that corruption, he could’ve phoned the Company, requested a background search on Matteo, and called in military support to apprehend the plane en route to Naples or to board the cargo vessel now docked along the pier. But he couldn’t take that chance. He couldn’t risk tipping off whoever the mole was within their operation.

“Why do you think the John Gelonese imposter warned you, Jared?”

Ah, Lana was thinking along the same lines as he. He’d wondered if the Matteo guy had been playing both sides. He’d killed innocent scientists on Hawaii and had taken out several SEALs, but the man had also spared Jared and given him the opportunity to stop Sergei from detonating the bomb.

“A killer with a conscience?” Lana prompted.

He grunted. “Could be. Could be he has other plans for the weapons or plans to attack somewhere else…”

The dot pulsed farther along the screen, and Jared adjusted the parameters to track the progress. Yup, heading toward the water.. Ninety percent of the worlds’ goods were trafficked over water. Shipping lanes were crowded, difficult to track. A man could hide virtually anything in the bowels of a freighter. Inspectors might be able to check a couple of containers, but on a ship crammed with several hundred of the two-ton structures, no way could they move or search all of them.

“We need help, Jared.”

Yes, they did. He had enough supplies to permanently render a three-hundred-foot vessel useless, or, if he chose, to blow it to a billion pieces, but there were other precautions to be taken. And—although it really,
really
pained him to admit it—they should apprehend the terrorists for questioning.
Should
being the key word. He was torn between revenge and objectivity.

“Come here,” he muttered.

Lana leaned toward him and he kissed her. His mouth lingered over hers because amid all the death and destruction she was life,
his life
.

“See,” she whispered. “I told you it would be better with me along.”

He chuckled, kissed her again, and then leaned back in his chair. While she picked at her salad, he pulled his cell phone from his pocket and dialed a number from memory.

“This is Jared Hawthorne,” he said. “I need to speak with Officer Giovanni Pisani.” He shifted the phone. “Yes. I’ll hold.”

It took a few minutes, but eventually the Italian police officer accepted the call.

“Remember me?” Jared drawled.

“Yes.”

“I have the man we were looking for.”

“I’ll have all units on standby,” Pisani promised. “I need your location.”

“Lex talionis.”
An eye for an eye
, Jared said.

Silence.

“Officer?” Jared finally prompted. As much as the reinforcements might aid them, Jared couldn’t risk any other corruption.

“I come alone. You tell me when and where?”

“I’m glad we understand each other. Meet me in Naples, on the pier across from La Villa Verde
.
You’d better hurry…” A pilot boat was still tucked against the giant steel ship’s side, fueling the cargo carrier. Once the tanks were full, there was no telling when the vessel would make land again or where.

“I’m on my way.”

He placed the phone on the table and finished his espresso. “Darlin’, how do you feel about taking a little swim?”

She blew out a deep breath. “I figured you’d ask that.”

…

Lana tried not to wince as she pulled on the wetsuit. Neither she nor Jared had anticipated Officer Pisani arriving by water, but when the Italian angled the speedboat alongside the bulkhead, they’d shared a laugh. About time luck turned their way.

The cabin was crammed, nothing more than a galley, table and cushions lining the bow, which she supposed doubled as a bed. They’d had to rent the suits and tanks from a dive shop. She’d taken a taxi, alone, to the shop on Via Pazzigno, and for that brief hour, it was the only time she’d been apart from Jared since he had returned to her on La Palma. Oddly, she’d felt his absence. It was unnerving to consider how acutely she’d come to rely on the man’s presence in her life.

Two dark purple bruises marked her chest and stomach.
Thanks, Sergei.
She shuddered. He’d attempted to murder her twice. She’d bear scars long after the bruises faded. Rage boiled up in her, rage and so much
hurt
, she could almost choke.
No time for that now
.

She pulled the neoprene up and drew the cord. She replayed the steps to plant the charges.
Set the base. Affix the Semtex, twist counterclockwise to lock it into the base. Activate the cap.
Jared had shown her. She could do it.

She grabbed the bags of explosives and climbed the stairs to the deck.

Officer Giovanni Pisani stood beside Jared at the helm. He held what resembled a small satellite dish. He adjusted the headset over his ears, and lifting the electronic listening device, he angled it at the freighter three berths over. He eavesdropped for several minutes.

“They plan to cross the Atlantic,” he said slowly. “I cannot understand all they say. Some is spoken in French for the sake of the crew. I do not know Russian, and they have not used English.”

“Where are they headed?” Jared asked.

“Something about Grand Banks. We need to intercept them before they reach land.”

This is where Jared’s expertise came into play. Lana still had trouble reconciling the man who could touch her so gently with the CIA operative who lived to make things go “boom.”

She bent her knees to place the two heavy duffel bags on the deck. Did she really want to get in the water at night and swim up to a boatful of warlords and terrorists?
Um, no.
Did she want to think about her heart pounding and all the neurotransmitters firing that would draw every shark in the harbor straight to her location?
Um, no.
But she didn’t say or do anything to hint at her fears. Too much was at stake. And she’d wanted, no,
insisted
that they finish this together.

“There’s no telling when that ship will sail,” Jared said. “Or if your government or mine would be able to move in time to guarantee they’ll capture the people onboard. Or be able to confiscate any weapons that might be on that ship.”

Right, and there was the also that teensy little issue of the traitor within the CIA. The person who’d sold out her and Jared and had aided a known terrorist. No, this one had to be off the books. She fully agreed with Jared on that.

And although it pained her to admit it, she also agreed with Jared about tying up the loose ends. They couldn’t pretend the events of the days past hadn’t occurred. They couldn’t ignore the fact that people, very dangerous people, knew their identities. If they wanted a life together—and Lana couldn’t imagine her life without Jared in it—they needed to finish this. Once and for all.

Jared crossed to her and knelt to open one of the bags. He unzipped the duffel bag and held up one mustard-yellow brick.

Officer Giovanni whistled. “How much?”

“Sixty pounds of Semtex. Properly positioned, it will perforate the hull below the water line. Lana will help me plant the charges. I’ll infiltrate the engine room and affix additional charges within the ship’s interior.”