Hard Target (5 page)

"Did you see anyone?" she snapped, stepping away from him as soon as she regained her balance.

Tay shook his head, turning to look out at Ramos who stood in the rear part of the large courtyard gesturing with typical Latin exuberance toward the adjacent building.

"Everyone safe?" Tay asked.

"Yes." Dawna grabbed his arm and lowered her voice. "Are you carrying a firearm?"

Tay frowned. "Would it make a difference?"

She threw down his arm in disgust. Her head throbbed, and she gingerly touched the swelling bump hidden under the hair above her ear. It felt warm and wet. Noticing Tay's steady look, she dropped her hand to her side and clenched her fingers to hide the blood she knew was there. She shifted back, turning her head slightly so he wouldn't notice the scrape. "Of course, it matters if you are carrying a weapon. I'm in charge of security here."

"And I'm in charge of the investigation."

"Bull. The
policia
out there are in charge. And this is my embassy." She shot a glance down the corridor to ensure they were alone. Then she glared back at Tay. His limpid, hazel eyes that could easily be her biggest weakness, now hardened as she gritted out, "Any breach of security in this embassy is my responsibility and you just breached that security, big time. You wrote the Standing Orders we follow. Does that give you the right to disobey them?"

His mouth thinned. "Under certain circumstances."

"Yeah," she muttered. "Under certain circumstances you can get away with a hell of a lot, can't you?"

She pivoted, ignoring the fire in her injured knee. Her hot breath seethed through her clenched teeth. She had to get away from him, if only to count slowly to ten. One, two, three....

After a few feet, she turned back. "From now on, you check your firearm at the door. It goes into the weapons' vault whenever you're in the building. And I'm going to make sure it's there, each and every time! Now, start a head count. I want to know exactly where and how everyone is."

She turned, and when Marconi appeared at the top of the basement stairs, she barked out orders to lock down the building.

Then, trying to avoid a limp, she stalked downstairs to the bunker to check on the Ambassador.

Tay crushed the urge to storm after her and tell her once and for all he was above Standing Orders. He had a job to do and it didn't include following Dawna's regulations, regardless of how mad she got.

But she was right, damn it. They needed to follow protocol, and check on the civilians. He stalked toward the front entrance and outside to see if any were trapped out there.

He adjusted his weapon to ensure it stayed hidden, remembering the last time he'd seen Dawna angry. That unforgettable day after the unforgettable evening they'd spent together. She'd been called into the mock interrogation room, the one their unit used for training. She'd had to face her Commanding Officer.

Tay had watched her from behind the two-way mirror, ordered there by the CO, who wanted him to confirm or deny her statement. Even now, he felt his face heat at the shared humiliation.

Dawna had been spitting mad that day, but had managed to keep herself well-controlled.

After she'd been reminded that fraternization with the staff was strictly forbidden and a severe reprimand would be placed on her file, she'd looked directly into the mirror.

She'd known he was there. Be trail and hurt glared in her eyes.

Tay dipped his head against the glare of the Bolivian sun. Without warning another, far older memory fought its way to the present. The same betrayal, another person.

His mother.

"
You're never home, Nathan! You're married to your job, not to me. I've been betrayed by you and your police station!
"

Tay forced his head up and inhaled sharply. Hot air, tainted with exhaust fumes, filled his lungs as he shoved his mother's voice down where it wouldn't resurface.

Slowly, he approached the police who'd been let into courtyard. This style of architecture sounded safe, with numerous fortified compounds patch-worked inside each city block, but he didn't like that the big, vehicular door needed opening constantly.

"
Señor
Hastings," Ramos called, approaching him. Tay was surprised that the
vigilante
knew his name and seemed to have accepted his presence as a matter of course. "We have several eyewitnesses who saw a man run from the apartment building beside the embassy."

Ramos indicated a small group of locals talking to a policeman, each of them pointing to the nearby apartments. "They saw a tall, thin man, with a white shirt and dark pants."

Tay resisted the urge to roll his eyes. "That narrows it down. Half the male population in the city wears white shirts and dark pants."

His eyes hidden behind sunglasses, Ramos shrugged. "No. This man was tall. Don't worry,
señor
." Ramos glanced around them. "We'll get the report from the
policia
."

"I would prefer to handle the investigation myself."

Ramos lifted his eyebrows. "Sergeant Atkinson is in charge of security," he hedged.

Tay straightened. "Didn't she explain why I'm here?"

"
Si
. To check the alarms and make sure we are following the regulations."

And not here to investigate the attacks on the embassy
. Tay sensed the unspoken words.

So Dawna had earned the respect of her
vigilantes
. And in such a short period of time. Impressive. "I'm also here to ensure our investigation runs smoothly. And the best way is to run it myself."

Again, Ramos' expression turned hooded. Then he answered, "You need not worry,
señor
. Sergeant Atkinson is very good at her job. She knows she can trust all the
vigilantes
to report everything to her."

So why do I get the feeling you're hiding something
, Tay wanted to ask. Instead, he nodded. "Good. I'll be expecting-"

A small car roared up in what Tay realized was typical Bolivian fashion, that is, with little regard for safety.

"The doctor," Ramos said with surprise in his voice.

Tay lifted his eyebrows. A short, stocky and man alit and hauled out a small, black bag before setting the alarm on his car. He turned to Ramos and rattled off something.

Ramos looked at Tay, his voice anxious. "The doctor has been called here. A woman is hurt inside. He says an injury from a fall?"

Tay pivoted, his heart slamming against his ribs. Dawna! She'd touched a growing bruise on her head and nursed a limp when she'd stalked away from him. Damn! Why hadn't he said something? Done something?

He bolted for the front door.

"It's nothing, really, Ambassador," Dawna said as Tay skidded to a stop outside the ambassador's private office in the bunker. "I've bumped my head and scraped my knee before."

Relieved to see Dawna upright and speaking, Tay blew out a long breath. It echoed around him.

Although reinforced, the bunker was still recognizable as being the basement of an old school. Basements were rare outside of North America, and this one still bore signs of being chiseled out of the Andean bedrock.

When he entered the room, she looked up from the chair in which she sat. The ambassador, wearing a blue latex glove, held a blood-stained cloth to her head and behind him, Lucy Porter wrung her hands in worry. The sight of Dawna's blood made something lodge in Tay's throat. He couldn't seem to clear his windpipe.

Get a grip. He'd seen blood before. "Are you all right?"

Dawna glanced up at him. "I'm fine. You were a little too enthusiastic when you shoved me to the ground, that's all. I'll live, though I'm not sure my outfit will." She flicked at her ripped pant leg, then made the hasty introductions.

Someone pushed Tay aside. He was ready to slam the fool against the door jamb, but stopped when he recognized the doctor, escorted by Ramos. The ambassador spoke in smooth but urgent Spanish and the doctor nodded.

"Relax," Dawna said, as if guessing Tay's thoughts. "This is Dr. Hernandez. The security agency sends him when we have a medical situation."

The doctor was quick and efficient, speaking to her in broken English as he examined her head and applied some butterfly strips to the cut on her leg. When he was done, he tugged her tattered pant leg over his handiwork.

Behind him, Lucy made a soft, sympathetic noise. Tay glanced up at her. With a face pinched with worry, she looked worse than Dawna. "Lucy, you'd better sit down. Should we have the doctor to look at you, too?"

"I'm okay. Just too much excitement." Lucy kept staring with wide, desperate eyes at Dawna, who returned the look with a barely perceivable shake of her head. What was she trying to tell Lucy? Not to show any weakness?

The doctor finished up his examination with an order to rest and be careful bathing her cut. He gave her a short list of symptoms to look out for.

But already Dawna had straightened her clothes, effectively preparing to continue her work.

She had no intention of being careful. Anger boiled in Tay. He gripped the door knob that he only just realized he was still clutching, in order to stop himself from yelling that he wasn't here to destroy her career.

Regardless of how her unit had instructed him.

"Ambassador?" he began through his clenched jaw. "I'd like to speak with Sergeant Atkinson privately for a moment."

The ambassador looked down at Dawna, and she nodded with obvious reluctance. Her mouth pursed, she followed Tay into the corridor.

"What?" Dawna asked after she shut the ambassador's office door.

"You're going home to rest. Now."

"Forget it!" Dawna straightened, smoothly and easily, as if she hadn't been hurt at all. She brushed imaginary dust from her suit, ignoring the rip at her knee.

"Sergeant-" he began.

She mimicked his formality. "
Mr. Hastings
." With arched eyebrows, she continued, "Look, Tay, I'm fine and I have no intention of going home to rest. Someone is trying to kill a member of this embassy, very likely the ambassador. Which means my place is here, doing the job
you
trained me to do."

"I can handle things."

She shot him a lethal look. For a moment, he expected a sharp retort of how poorly he'd handled things three years ago, but the reminder didn't come.

Instead, flicking up her fingers in succession, she snapped, "I know the people here. I hired them. I coordinated with the security agency to get the best
escoltas
. I work with them every day and I know the city."

"I can remove you from your post." Damn! Why did he say that? The threat was a trump card given to him by the MSGU because they wanted to see Dawna fail. In their eyes, she'd humiliated them. On the long flight down here, he'd decided he wouldn't play that card at all.