Forged in Fire (5 page)

“I don’t know.” She frowned, thinking of the Die Hard and James Bond movies she’d been subjected to throughout the years. What was it about first dates and action movies? She eyed Zane. He probably loved those fast-paced, blow-everything-up in-sight action flicks. Just one more thing they didn’t have in common. “They looked like machine guns.”

A slow smile spread across Zane’s face, one of pure indulgence. “They couldn’t have been machine guns. They’re long-range weapons that require tripods.”

Beth rolled her eyes. “They had lots of bullets and they killed you. What more do you need to know?”

“The make and model. That way we’ll know how many bullets to dodge,” the blond said, his blue eyes back to laughing.

She folded her arms across her chest and set her shoulders. They were running out of time. “Look. I don’t see how the model is going to make a difference. We know they’re on board. Can’t you guys just make some calls and have someone check the plane?”

“The type of weapons tells us how they got them on board. You said they look like machine guns, so it’s likely they’re submachines. An MP5 would have to be hidden in a tote—like a toolbox. Which means the inside guy could be from maintenance.” Simcosky’s gaze shifted between Beth and Zane. “Or engineering,” he added, his tone flat.

From Zane’s tight expression, this information wasn’t news to him.

She ignored the suggestion that someone from her department might be involved. They didn’t know her engineers. It simply wasn’t possible. “There’s less than seventy minutes before the plane boards. Isn’t there someone you can call to get the plane searched but without alerting the hijackers?”

The silence that fell was even deeper and more intimidating than it had been earlier when she’d blurted out his name. Beth’s stomach clenched as she got a good look at the grim expression on Zane’s face.

“See, we have a problem, sweetheart,” he finally said, rubbing his heart. “I can make some calls. I can get that plane searched. Once you point the hijackers out, we can contain them until the white knights arrive.” He fell silent, the tension solidifying the air surrounding them, until it pulsed like a bass drum.

“But that’s good. That’s exactly what we want. I don’t see any problem with that,” Beth whispered, forcing the words out her suddenly tight throat. She waited for the other shoe to drop, because something was obviously very, very wrong.

Zane sighed, shook his head and wrapped an arm around her waist. With a gentle tug, he pulled her closer. She didn’t fight him. Something told her she was going to need the comfort.

“The problem… is there’s obviously an inside accomplice. Someone from PacAtlantic. Someone with access to the plane between flights. And once the FBI starts investigating, you’ll rise to the top of their suspect list. “

* * *

Zane watched every ounce of color leech from Beth’s face.

Her eyes widened. “But I’m trying to stop it.”

“I know.” He ran a soothing hand up and down her spine. He could sense her fear rising. It vibrated against his hand and brushed against his mind. An alien emotion. Unfamiliar. A texture and tone that didn’t originate within him.

The bond was already forming, acting as a conductor, linking them. If he could keep her close—close enough to touch—the bond would form faster. Physical contact accelerated the connection. He needed to cement the link as soon as possible, tie her to him. If he suddenly went wheels-up, he’d deploy with the peace of knowing Beth was already his.

“But the agents investigating won’t. One of the things they’ll look at is behavior. And yours will look pretty damn suspicious.”

She thought that over, the worry lines in her forehead deepening. “Why?”

“It’s a combination of things. Number one, you work for PacAtlantic and in a department with access to their planes between flights. Number two, you listed yourself on standby mere hours before the flight boarded. You did this spur of the moment, without telling your coworkers, and without telling anyone about your dream. Number three, this is a plane to Hawaii, but you only took one day off and brought no luggage. When they start looking into passengers, your behavior is going to stand out. It’s going to look suspicious as hell.”

The muscles of her throat trembled. Another surge of fear brushed against his mind. He rubbed her back again. Up and down, a slow soothing glide. What they needed was an explanation for her behavior. His hand slowed as the solution occurred to him.

He swallowed a grin. Christ, it was perfect. A fucking gift. And they’d already set the stage with that hot-as-hell kiss. Plus, it would serve a dual purpose. It would keep her tied to him as he fanned these flames, and forged the connection between them, but it would also give the investigators a concrete reason for her behavior. They might not cross her off their suspect list, but they wouldn’t look at her quite so closely.

It was perfect.

When she pulled away Zane let her go, and that odd, whispery tickle brushing against his subconscious vanished.

“But I
don’t
have access to the planes. I’m just clerical. I don’t have clearance. My engineers do, although—” She shot Cosky a so-there look. “They don’t use toolboxes or totes so they couldn’t have smuggled the guns on board.” She blew out a relieved breath, as though that news would eradicate any suspicion directed her way.

Zane shook his head. “If your guys have access to the plane, they could have figured out a way to get the guns on board. And you could still be involved. At the very least, they’ll believe you knew about the planned hijacking, but didn’t come forward to report it.”

She squared her shoulders and lifted her chin. “I’ll explain about the dream. If I was involved, I wouldn’t be trying to stop the hijacking.”

Zane sighed. He hated the fear in her eyes, but she needed to be prepared. “They won’t believe you. What they’ll believe is you got cold feet and tried to back out. What they’ll believe is you made up the dream to give yourself a reason for knowing something you shouldn’t.”

Beth gulped and bit her bottom lip, but she held his eyes. “Maybe you’re right. But we still have to tell someone—even if it’s going to get me into trouble. Without my dream, how will we convince someone to search the plane?”

Pride speared through Zane, followed by a healthy dose of respect. Even knowing the cost, she still insisted on intervening. She was willing to sacrifice her life for those passengers on the plane. Because at this point she had to know that if she became the major focus of such an investigation, it could well destroy her.

“We’re not going to tell anyone you’re the one who had the dream,” Zane told her, aware that Cosky and Rawls had gone still.

They’d probably already figured out where he was going with this. From the tight expressions on their faces, they didn’t like it. Which was no surprise. The real question was whether they’d go along with it.

“But we have to,” Beth’s voice rose with each word. “How will we get anyone to search the plane if we don’t tell them about my dream?”

He smiled at her words. She’d linked them together with
we
. She didn’t realize it yet, but she was already coupling them in her mind. It was a start. A toehold he could build on.

“You’re telling Mackenzie you had the dream.” Cosky’s face turned stone-cold.

Zane didn’t deny it, just let the silence build. Let them think the ramifications through without fast talk or fancy words. He counted the two men across from him as his closest friends, trusted them implicitly. They were brothers in every way that counted.

What he was asking went beyond the bonds of brotherhood, beyond the bonds of friendship. Hell, it slashed right through the creed they lived by. You didn’t lie to your team. Ever.

Yet he was asking them to deceive their commanding officer, a man they respected, even considered a good friend—a man who’d had their backs every single time it mattered. Yeah, they’d been planning on telling Mac about Zane’s visions, but this was different. The bulk of their information had come courtesy of a woman they knew nothing about. A woman they couldn’t be certain wasn’t involved. A woman who would be wanted for questioning if the truth were to leak out.

He, at least, had the benefit of the bond forming between them. He could sense her emotions when they touched. There was no duplicity in her. There was fear, yes. Sensual heat, yes. Confusion, absolutely. But no dishonesty.

Cosky and Rawls didn’t have that advantage.

Zane hated the idea of lying to Mac as much as they did. But he’d lie to the whole damn fleet if it kept Beth safe.

Rawls was the first to break the throbbing silence. He scowled at the wall above Zane’s head, his face carved into the implacable mask Zane thought of as his the-shit’s-about-to-fly face, because he rarely saw it outside of battle.

“Mac’s been in on enough of your—” Rawls glanced at Beth “—hunches. He’ll believe you without question.”

“Yeah.”

“Fuck.” Cosky studied Beth’s face intently, before scrubbing a hand over his head. “It would get that plane searched, and hijackers captured without bringing her into it.”

“Who’s Mackenzie?”

“Commander Jace Mackenzie. Our CO—Commanding Officer,” Zane explained as confusion registered on her face.

Although Mac was more than their CO. He was one of Zane’s best friends. He’d served under the commander at HQ2 before Mac had reluctantly agreed to rank up and take a desk. He’d followed the man over to HQ1 and up to Coronado. Zane wouldn’t even be here, if it hadn’t been for Mackenzie. And in the twelve years they’d served together, he’d never lied to the commander. Never.

Which was one of the reasons he’d be believed now.

Son of a bitch. He didn’t like this any more than Cosky or Rawls did. It went against every instinct he had. But it was lie, or serve Beth up to some glory-seeking pencil-pusher out to make a name for himself. These kinds of cases drew publicity like fresh roadkill drew crows. They destroyed innocent lives.

No way was he letting Beth take the fall for this. Even if that meant lying to his team.

If he told Mackenzie about Beth and her nightmare, the commander would make a round of calls which would result in that plane being searched. But Mac would turn her in. During the best of times, he had little use for women—apart from the obvious. When it came to national security, he wouldn’t even hesitate. Nothing Zane said would convince the commander to withhold her name.

Rawls cut loose with a curse sharp as a gunshot. “We better pray he never finds out about this. Otherwise we’re up shit-river.”

Cosky stared at Beth for a long moment, before turning to Zane. “I won’t lie to him point-blank. If he asks me about
your dream
, I’ll tell him the truth.”

Zane nodded. Neither man would have agreed to this if they’d suspected Beth was involved.

“I don’t know.” Beth’s lavender eyes were brimming with guilt and worry. “How much trouble will you get into if you get caught lying?”

Surprised, Zane turned his attention her. He’d given her an easy out, one that would take the responsibility off her shoulders. Yet she was worried how it would affect him and his men. Warmth spread through his chest.

“None,” he assured her, which was another lie.

If Mac found out about the switch, Zane would be in a shit-pot of hurt. He could protect his men by telling his CO that he’d misled them too. But who’d had the dream wasn’t the issue. The problem was withholding Beth’s name. Protecting a suspect in a terrorist attack was a court-martial offense. And Mac would consider Beth a suspect.

When Beth didn’t look convinced, Zane reached out to stroke her cheek. He smiled when she didn’t pull away. “I’ll tell Mac the same thing you told us, so the meat of what I’m telling him is true.”

She apparently assumed that meant Mackenzie would understand and forgive if the lie was exposed. The worry and guilt smoothed from her face. Zane let her believe it. It was amazing how that one deception kept bleeding into others.

“So you’re in the Army?”

Rawls chuckled, although it sounded forced. “Bite your tongue.” His gaze lingered on her mouth, and his grin eased into a more natural cast. “I’d be offended you’d confuse us with those dustbowl wannabes, if you weren’t so damn cute.”

Zane stiffened. That son of a bitch better find someplace else to stare or he wouldn’t be flashing his killer grin again until the bones in his face knitted. He almost stepped forward to block Rawls’ view, when the absurdity stuck him. Christ, he was acting like an idiot. Rawls wouldn’t poach on a teammate’s woman. Once she was spoken for, she was off-limits.

And Beth was his. The only one who wasn’t aware of that fact was Beth.

“I’m sorry. I just assumed.”

“We’re with the Navy. SEAL Team 7.” Zane cocked his head and waited for her reaction.

He rarely mentioned his profession to strangers, particularly women. Invariably they reacted in one of two ways. With distaste, as though the fact he was Special Operations dropped him into the same category as your average serial killer. Or they’d get this gleam in their eyes, something resembling sexual avarice, as though making it through BUD/S had endowed him with some mystical prowess.

When her expression cleared, Zane relaxed. Until it occurred to him she might not know what being a SEAL entailed.

“The SEAL program is the Navy’s version of Special Forces—” he started to explain.

“I know,” she broke in. “Deployed from sea, land and air. I’ve read some… ah…” She coughed, her cheeks flushing pink. “…books that had SEALs in them.”

“No kiddin’,” Rawls drawled, a mask of innocence plastered across his face. He braced his elbows on the shelving behind him, and eyed her with a lazy smile. “Can I borrow them? I’m always interested in seeing how the public views our profession.”

When Beth’s cheeks blazed from pink to bright red, Zane’s eyebrows climbed. Maybe he should borrow those books too.

“It occurs to me,” she blurted out, obviously trying to sidetrack them from her reading habits, “even if I cancel the standby listing, it will still show up when they run the passenger manifest. I’ll still be a suspect.”