Authors: Wendy Byrne
Jake could picture the scene taking place right outside where they were hiding. A broad smile covered Tessa's face. She seemed to have some trouble stifling a giggle.
Luckily, the couple brought their activity into the master bedroom a few excruciating minutes later. While sounds were still coming through, it wasn't as if he heard every word and moan amplified. Less was more, although Tessa seemed inordinately transfixed like some ravenous voyeur as she edged the closet door open. She peered out toward the hall while listening, like she was on assignment, and she mouthed something to him that he couldn't decipher.
It seemed like it took forever for the couple to finish. Just when Jake was about to abandon ship and jump out the window, the simultaneous orgasm thing happened. Hallelujah. He wasn't sure how much longer he could listen to the squeak of the mattress without going insane. Moments later, snoring sounds.
He looked at Tessa and nodded before easing open the closet door. The window gave them a better chance than going through the house. Before he could slide the window closed after them, an alarm pounded through the air. They tumbled their way off the pitched part of the roof to the lowest end and jumped to the ground.
She hit the ground first, rolling before springing to her feet and taking off. He followed a few seconds later. The sounds of a shotgun split through the air as they rushed through the wooded backyard and onto the street behind it.
They made it to the car, and he peeled away. The last shot narrowly missed Jake, breaking off the side mirror instead. He guessed it was the man in the house who'd chased after them.
"Why didn't he call the cops?" He looked at her.
She nodded. "I was thinking the same thing. Normally, we'd have heard some kind of police siren or even seen some rent-a-cops from the alarm company. But nothing."
Just like she had done when somebody had invaded her house. While she didn't greet them with guns blazing, she'd taken a more evasive approach. "What do you think that means?" he asked, curious as to how she'd respond.
"Either they were too cheap to have the alarm connected—which seems unlikely—or they planned on handling any intruders on their own." She chewed her lip, as if to stop herself from saying anything more.
"I'm going to circle back. I want to see if we're right."
Despite the fact it seemed like a really bad idea, he took a circuitous route back to the property and slowed to a crawl on a cross street a couple of blocks away. There wasn't a police car in sight confirming his theory.
"I know you're going to think I'm crazy, but I think that was Alex." She had the glistening of tears in her eyes when she spoke.
Holy hell. Could this whole thing get any more complicated?
Just the idea that it could be Alex made her heart clutch, her breathing speed up. Was she going stark raving mad after the last couple of days?
"You think what?" His gaze narrowed, and he looked at her like she felt inside—that she was a hair's breadth away from the loony bin. "You didn't see the guy, did you?"
She needed a serious reality check. Alex was dead. She'd seen the proof herself in that video while watching it at least one hundred times. Wishing, hoping for anything different was a pipe dream. Nothing could erase the guilt and remorse tunneling through her thoughts twenty-four seven. Shoulda-coulda-wouldas were a constant reminder of her failure. They never left her thoughts.
"No, but his voice. The sound of it is different, altered in some way, but it was something he said."
"I didn't hear much, besides a lot of moaning." He chuckled.
"Remember when he said, 'Babe, you're it for me'?"
"Vaguely. I didn't pay much attention. I was trying to think of a way to get the hell out of there."
She rubbed her hands along her shoulders and tried to shake off the weird vibe simmering through. "He used to say that all the time when he referenced operatives or girlfriends. We used to tease him about it. It was kind of a running joke."
But who was that woman in the photo with Alex? Why did the woman seem so familiar? It was something about the eyes that caught her attention and made her think she'd seen the woman before.
"It's kind of a strange phrase, but maybe there's some kind of weird-ass explanation. I don't know what it could be, but it's got to make more sense than Alex returning from the dead."
"You're right. I'm sure it's wishful thinking on my part." Despite the fact she'd known Jake mere days, she bit her lips rather than give in to the urge to spill what she'd harbored inside. Would he understand the choices she'd made? Probably not. Nobody else seemed to.
And they hired Jake for some elusive reason that had yet to become clear. He hadn't fully explained his presence other than to offer up the lame excuse that his job was to protect her.
There were always those who questioned the survivor when others perished. It wasn't something she hadn't thought through a million times as well. That was when it struck her. Jake was there to ferret information from her. His assignment, no doubt, was to get into her good graces and then pump the confession, or whatever they were after, out of her. Using an outsider to do their dirty work was a brilliant plan. But when lack of trust had been so instilled in her so deep that it was now part of her biological makeup, why would they think he could have an impact on that?
The thought that Alex could somehow be connected to what went down in Afghanistan sent shivers down her spine. Since now she knew Alex had lied to her from day one, she had to consider the real possibility he might have been a plant sent to training class with ulterior motives. That meant he had the sanction from up above. But that was the part that stuck inside her head. Why would she be singled out as a target? That part didn't make sense. She also had to wonder how much misinformation was told to Jake. And, most of all, if he believed all that he'd heard.
It looked like he wanted to respond, but he stopped when a car closed in behind them. "Here we go again." He shook his head. "I do not get how they keep catching up with us. We checked everything out. What could we have missed?" When she nodded, he continued, "How the hell are they doing it?"
She glanced behind and spotted the car inching closer. "Maybe circling back by Alex's house was a bad idea. It looks like they're not playing this time."
He chuckled despite the dire circumstances. "You think the other times they were?" Without hesitating a beat, he took the corner way too fast. "This area is so desolate, we're easy to follow. You live around here. Have any ideas? If we go through the downtown area it will be all traffic lights, and we might get into trouble."
The car squealed around the next corner while she contemplated where they might avoid the inevitable. "Turn left at the next street. We'll try to lose them in the Old Town section of Alexandria and then get onto the Beltway. It won't be too crowded this time of night. However they're tracking us, it's got to be based on a short radius."
"We've got to get enough miles between us to lose them. The expressway might be our only option to get away fast. Pull the jammer out of my bag and plug it into the cigarette lighter. I'm not sure it's powerful enough, but if we get enough distance between us it might work okay. It's not a fluke that they keep finding us."
He had to be doing ninety by the time they hit the Beltway. "Turn right and get onto the interchange. Head toward DC. I'm figuring there'll be more traffic going that way, and maybe we'll have a shot at avoiding them."
He did as instructed, flitting in and out of the light traffic. They crossed over the river still on 95, but he veered off when the junction of the 210 popped up, and they drove into Maryland. "They'll figure we'll head into Washington. We've gotta hope the jammer worked, and then we've got to get ourselves to a heavy-duty scanner of some kind. There's only so many times we're going to be able to avoid the inevitable, at this rate."
"Wait a minute." She rubbed her shoulder. "I know this is way too
Bourne Identity
, but…my shoulder. They took care of me in the field. If there's some kind of conspiracy going on…" She felt the lump in her shoulder and fought back the rush of memories with it.
"I packed a couple of those heat pad things in your backpack when I noticed they seemed to help."
She unbuckled, reached into the back seat, and grabbed her bag. After ripping open the packet, she affixed the patch with the metal discs that activated the heat. It didn't take long for the warmth to attack the muscles cramping her shoulder.
"What if they implanted something when they repaired my shoulder? They said they couldn't get out the entire bullet, and that's what I was feeling, but what if?" She held up her hand to stop him as the sense of validity shimmied down her spine. "And what if those heat-activated metal discs somehow interfere with the transmission?"
"That's a lot of what-ifs." He looked at her like she was plumb crazy. Not that she blamed him. Part of her thought she was crazy too.
"There's only way to find out if I'm right. Lose these guys, and see if they find us again."
"Disconnect the jammer to make this a good experiment. The story is so crazy I'm not sure if I want you to be right or not."
"I know what you mean." She glanced behind as he wove in and out of traffic before taking the next turnoff. Her heart boomed. She hoped she was right. If not, the desolate area where they exited could be a really bad decision.
The car bumped along the rural road until he pulled into a diner parking lot. He glanced around and shut off the car. "Either I have some crazy evasive skills, or the government intentionally spied on you for some reason. Is that what you're saying?"
She ran her fingers through her hair. "I know it sounds absolutely insane, but how else does this keep happening?"
"I am not going to cut it out if that's what you're thinking." He shook his head and smiled. "That's way above my pay grade. Besides, the sight of blood makes me faint."
She chuckled. "You might look all badass with your scruffy beard, but some super stud you are, fainting at the sight of blood. Seriously?"
He shrugged. "That's my story and I'm sticking to it."
* * *
Jake figured he had to consider the possibility. She'd been tracked in New York, and there hadn't been a car involved. Of course, they could have assumed she'd show up at Nick's apartment and staked out all the café's in close proximity, but even that seemed like a stretch as he thought about it.
The real problem was how to get it removed without a mess. Then again, what if it wasn't there? Hell, they'd paid good money to The Alliance for him to track her. If they'd already inserted the tracker, why would they need him? What was he missing?
Unless the person who paid them had a different agenda than the ones who wanted her dead. That had a certain validity to it. And what about the idea that Alex wasn't dead? Could she possibly be right about that?
"I know some people, but we'd have to head back outside Washington."
"What do you mean?"
"There's an Alliance doctor we could visit to get us an x-ray of your shoulder."
"This Alliance place has some connections. Tell me again what you do?" She shifted in her seat, and for the first time since the fiasco at Alex's, she seemed to relax.
"Our official mission is about protection and retrieval of people who've been kidnapped. Sometimes fed types try to move in on our action. There was an FBI agent that got involved with the case we worked with my sister."
"Why did you sneer?" She bit out a laugh.
"The idea of my sister hooking up with an FBI guy goes against my grain, even if he is a good guy. We Shaws have standards to keep. And a fed as a brother-in-law…" He shook his head. "Not cool."
"Despite what you may believe, we're not all bad. And occasionally we actually do some good."
"I'll believe it when I see it." He unlocked the doors. "I don't know about you, but I'm starving."
"I was wondering when you were going to feed me."
"That's a pretty chauvinist thing for you to say." He grabbed his bags from the back. What he couldn't decide was whether he'd show her what he'd found. Maybe showing it to her over coffee at a diner would help with safety and planning.
After what just happened, he had to think she couldn't fake it, not with any degree of certainty. But did he trust her? Could he go against the flow of information that said she was not what she purported to be?
He didn't get a chance to respond, because the sound of gunfire ripped through the parking lot and they dove back into the car for cover.
Instead of thinking, he drove into the open road, plugged back in the jammer, and hoped for the best. He'd lost them more than once, but his luck had to run out sooner or later. Bringing firepower into the mix from the get-go made them seem more serious and more deadly, by his estimation.
Why had they changed their tactic from seeking information to wanting them both dead? What had ramped up the stakes on their end?
"Wait a minute. That is not the same car that was tailing us before."
"You mean to tell me there's more than one?" He turned to look at her. "Just what the hell do they think you have?"
Before she could answer, bullets dinged along the side. Jake wasn't sure he could maneuver safely without getting them killed. He needed to think. But that was damn near impossible with the barrage of bullets headed their way.
One shot broke off the passenger's side mirror. The scumbags were gaining and pissed off. Not a good combination if they wanted to make sure she stayed alive.
There was something missing in the information shared with him. He was sick and tired of being left out of the loop. And really tired of being shot at. "Are you sure it's a different car?"
"Yep." She kept her eyes focused behind them. "This car is smaller, more agile. When we were under the lights it looked like a sports car." She sucked in a breath. "It's like the car I spotted pulling into the garage at Alex's house."