Hide and Seek (32 page)

Just as Michelle knew she couldn’t call out to the three teachers for help either. It would only endanger the children. For all she knew, the man currently holding a gun to her ribs had no scruples killing innocent children in order to save his own ass.

She was on her own.

“Move!” he ordered between clenched teeth.

She cast him a sideways glance. He looked so normal. Not like a villain, but more like a boring accountant on his way to work. That’s why she hadn’t even noticed him, though clearly he’d noticed her.

Michelle had no choice but to put one foot in front of the other. But she had to somehow buy herself time. “Smith sent you? What does he want?”

A little chuckle came from the man. “What do you think?” He pressed the barrel of the gun harder into her side to make his point.

“Why? I’ve done everything he wanted.”

The assassin nudged her in the direction of a public restroom, which was partially surrounded by bushes and trees.

“Apparently your employer wasn’t quite satisfied with your job performance.”

“I can improve,” she hastened to say, realizing that once they reached the restrooms there was nothing to prevent him from killing her out of sight of any witnesses.

“I believe your probationary period is over. And guess what?” He leaned in. “You didn’t make the cut.”

Her heart beat frantically, and her palms were sweaty. “Whatever he’s paying you, I can pay you more.”

A snort was his answer. He didn’t believe her. Well, she wouldn’t believe herself either.

Michelle eyed the one-story brick building that housed the restrooms and saw a man exit from one side. He walked toward them.

The assassin pasted a smile on his face and said for the benefit of the man passing them, “Honey, your stomach will feel better in a second, I promise you.”

The fake sweet tone of his voice made her want to puke and make his lie about her stomach trouble true.

The moment the other man was out of earshot, her assailant hurried her along. “Let’s move.”

She pretended to stumble over her own feet, letting out a gasp. He gripped her elbow even harder, his gun slipping for a moment, but then he pulled her along again. The distraction had worked, however: she’d managed to pull the cell phone Stingray had given her from her pocket, press what she hoped was the redial button, and drop it into the grass. Stingray had programmed in his number, and they’d tested it before she’d left with the van. She could only hope now that he would get the message that she was in trouble. It was a long shot, but what else could she do?

“Stop, please,” she begged loudly, praying that the call had already connected and would pick up her voice from this distance. “My ankle. I think I sprained it. Please don’t take me into those public restrooms. Please don’t kill me.”

“Shut up, you bitch!” he growled, looking around. He seemed satisfied that nobody was close enough to have heard her or seen her struggle.

Her gaze darted past the structure ahead of them, where sailboats and motorboats were docked at the small marina. But it was quiet there, too.

With every step they got closer to the public restrooms, hope that the cavalry would arrive in time faded a little bit more. A hand clamped around her heart and squeezed it tighter with every second. Soon, it would all be over. This wasn’t how she’d imagined her end: shot in a public restroom, her body lying on the urine-stained concrete floor. A cold shiver raced down her back, and her hands trembled.

Tears welled in her eyes, and she didn’t even try to blink them back. Nobody would see them, nobody but her killer.

“Please,” she murmured, but he’d already opened the door to the women’s restroom and shoved her inside.

A single neon light flickered on the ceiling. Except for the dripping faucet it was quiet. There were three stalls, their doors open. The smell of human waste hit her immediately, making her nose twitch uncomfortably. A morbid thought came: at least she wouldn’t have to bear the stench for long.

For the first time since the assassin had caught her, he released her elbow and pushed her from him, toward one of the stalls. She whirled around, needing to watch him. As if seeing the gun would somehow help her stop him.

With a serenity only a professional killer could exhibit, he pulled a silencer from his jacket pocket. He placed the jacket over the waste bin, then slowly screwed the silencer onto the barrel of his pistol.

“It won’t hurt,” he promised.

“Please, just let me go. I promise I’ll disappear today. Nobody has to find out that you didn’t kill me. I’ll leave the country.”

The assassin shook his head. “Sorry, lady, but I always fulfill my duty.”

Instinctively, she shrank back, stepping deeper into the stall until her legs backed up against the toilet bowl.

The cocking of the gun echoed off the walls. The sound thundered in her ears and made her heart stop. This was it then. The end.

Another sound, that of creaking door hinges, reached her ears a split second later.

Her head veered in the direction of the door as it opened. Oh, no, another innocent woman would have to die because she was about to witness a murder.

“No! Run!” Michelle screamed at the person she couldn’t even see, because the assassin was blocking her view of the door.

He spun around, his back to her now, his gun hand outstretched.

The shot echoed louder than she would have expected. She’d always thought a silencer would dampen the sound of the gunshot to a dull rumble. But this was different, louder, deafening.

Paralyzed, she stared at the assassin’s back, expecting him to turn around to her now and finish her. But instead, his knees buckled and he collapsed onto the dirty floor. Her gaze flew to the door. Nick stood there, a gun in his hand.

“Are you all right?” he asked, rushing toward her.

She nodded, but couldn’t get a single word over her lips.

Nick sidestepped the dead body and reached for her, pulling her out of the stall. “We have to leave. Now. Before anybody sees us.”

She nodded numbly and clung to his hand as he dragged her out of the bathroom and around to the other side, away from the entrance.

The van, its engine running, was waiting for them. For a moment she wondered how that was possible, since she still felt the key to it in her pocket. But Stingray probably had a second one on him.

“Hop in, quickly!” Nick demanded, helping her into the van and jumping in behind her, then slamming the door shut.

The van was already in motion, making her stumble before she was able to sit on the bench.

“Get us outta here, Stingray!” Nick sat on the bench beside her and pulled her into his arms.

His erratic breathing and heaving chest mirrored her own.

“I thought I’d be too late.”

Michelle buried her head in his chest, still not being able to comprehend how she’d escaped certain death. “You came. You killed him before he could kill me.”

“Shame the guy’s dead. Would have loved to question him about this Smith character. Guess we blew our chance there,” Stingray threw in.

“Yeah, well, I had no choice,” Nick answered.

He put his hand under her chin and tipped her face up. His mouth was on hers a moment later, kissing her with a desperation she’d never felt from him before. When he released her moments later, he stroked his hand over her hair.

“You scared the shit out of me, Michelle.”

“I didn’t know he was gonna send an assassin. And I couldn’t know he’d be an hour early.” Then she looked around the van for the first time and a twinge of panic raced through her. “Where are Ranger and Lisa? Are they okay?”

Stingray answered in Nick’s stead, catching her eye in the rearview mirror. “They’re in the Toyota, making sure nobody’s following us. They’ll meet us at the safe house once the coast is clear.”

Relieved, Michelle exhaled. Then she looked at Nick. “What happened at Langley? Did you get the file?”

Nick grinned and patted his jacket pocket. “We got it, baby.”

24

After arriving at the safe house, they’d analyzed the files Nick had copied, which turned out to be a veritable treasure trove of information. The files identified over thirty Phoenix agents. Mostly codenames, real names, and pictures were there, but the files didn’t contain any mention of relatives or where the agents were from. However, there were other useful tidbits: hobbies, special skills, as well as the professions the agents had previously held. It would help Nick and his two new friends in their search for the others.

Several hours after rescuing Michelle from the assassin and analyzing the files in the safe house, Nick kicked his apartment door shut with the heel of his boot and trained his eyes on Michelle who’d entered ahead of him.

She walked toward the sofa, sashaying her sweet ass for his benefit, making it hard for him to concentrate on what he had to get off his chest. When she turned and let herself sink into the cushions, resting her head against the backrest and blowing out a breath, Nick marched toward her.

His heart was still pounding out of control at the recollection of what had happened this morning. It had been close. Too damn close. And it had made him realize one thing: that he didn’t want to lose Michelle. Which was why it was so hard to do what he’d promised her. To help her get away. But a promise was a promise. She’d upheld her part of the bargain, and he had to uphold his.

She smiled at him, clearly oblivious to the turmoil raging inside him. And how should she know? He hadn’t told her even once what he’d started feeling.

“Something wrong?” she murmured, reaching for him.

Nick remained standing in front of her, searching for the right words. “I don’t think I’m able to uphold my end of the bargain about getting you out of the country.”

She shifted on the sofa. “But you promised to give me a new identity.”

“I did. But I can’t help you disappear.” He shook his head. “Not the way you were hoping to anyway. Smith has you in his crosshairs. And knowing what I know now, that one of our own turned bad and worked for our enemies, I have to assume that Talon wasn’t the only one. Smith might have other Phoenix on their side.”

“But what’s that got to do with you giving me a new identity?”

“Everything. Any of those Phoenix who’ve gone bad can have a premonition about you, where you are, what you’re doing. If I send you away to South America on your own, you’ll be without protection if one of them comes after you.”

“But the chances of that happening—”

“—are real,” he cut her off. And that made his blood curdle.

“But if I stay here as myself, he’ll get me, too.”

“If you stay here, I’ll be able to watch out for you. To protect you.”

To be close to you
, he wanted to add, but didn’t.

He could see how the wheels in Michelle’s brain turned feverishly. Hesitantly, he said, “You’ll get a new identity, but you’d be staying close… close to me.”

Her eyelashes lifted, almost hitting her brows. Blue eyes stared at him with an intensity that almost knocked him off his feet.

Slowly, her lips parted, curving into a tentative smile. “So that’s what this is about.”

“What what’s about?”

“You actually want to go out with me. You want to be my boyfriend.”

“It’s just so I can keep an eye on you,” Nick said quickly.

Shit, he wasn’t good at talking about stuff like this. He’d much rather discuss some software code with Michelle than confess what he was feeling. Besides, what if she didn’t feel the same? After all, she barely knew him, he’d lied to her for half of the time they’d known each other, and he’d put her in mortal danger. Not exactly a good place to start from when applying for the position as lover and boyfriend. How was he ever going to overcome that kind of handicap?

She rose from the couch. “What exactly do you want to keep an eye on?” She unexpectedly pulled her black T-shirt over her head and tossed it on the sofa, casting him a saucy look. “My boobs?”

Nick’s breath caught as he stared at her black bra. Was she going to strip in front of him?

She kicked off her shoes, then opened the button of her jeans and pulled the zipper down. “Or are you more interested in my ass and legs?”

Before she could push her jeans down, he imprisoned her hands, stopping her.

“This isn’t about sex, Michelle.”

She lifted her chin. “Then what is it about, Nick? What is it that you want? Because unless you tell me, I’m not gonna know what you really want.”

“You’re gonna make me say it, aren’t you?”

She nodded slowly. “Don’t I deserve that?”

He swallowed. “Oh, you deserve so much. It’s just, I’m not the kind of guy who’s used to talking about… well, about what he feels.”

“And here, I thought you were such a smooth talker, flirting with me so I’d sleep with you.”

“It’s different now.”

She took a step closer. “Yeah? What’s different?”

“After what happened today, after almost losing you…” He shoved a hand through his hair. “…I don’t think I could handle if something happened to you…” He sighed. “Damn it, Michelle, maybe you could help me a little here.”

“How?”

“By telling me that I mean something to you?”

A soft smile that extended to her eyes formed on her lips. Her hand came up and she stroked his cheek. “Oh, Nick, the shy boy from Indiana. He’s still in there, isn’t he? And he’s afraid to say what he feels because he’s worried that he’ll be rejected, just like his parents rejected him.” She shook her head.

How could she know what was holding him back? “How do you—?”

“You told me so yourself, Nick. You told me that your parents didn’t really want to see you after the divorce. I don’t need to be a psychologist to guess what that would have done to that boy.” She ran her finger along his lower lip. “Now try again. Give me a reason to stay.”

Nick took a deep breath. “I’m in love with you. I know it’s happening too fast, but if you believe in love at first sight, then believe in this. Believe that I’ve fallen for you and that I’ll do everything in my power to protect you.”

Her fingers stroked gently over his cheek. “Now, was that so hard?” She brushed her lips on his. “So does that mean I get to move in with you?”