Operation: Midnight Guardian (2 page)

The marshal groaned. “Help us…”

“Where is your prisoner?” the man repeated.

“Got…away,” the marshal groaned.

The man drew back a booted foot and kicked the marshal.
“Where is she!”

The marshal ground out a curse. “Screw…you.”

Hissing a word Mattie didn’t understand, the man pulled a gun from his belt. “Stupid American,” he said and shot the marshal at point-blank range.

Horrified, Mattie scrambled back, put her hand over her mouth to keep herself from screaming. She’d never seen anything so brutal in her life. Who were these men? Why had they shot that marshal in cold blood? And why were they looking for her?

But deep inside, Mattie knew what they wanted. The knowledge terrified her almost as much as the brutality she’d just witnessed.

The killer stepped back, his eyes skimming the area, a predator hungry for a kill. Mattie instinctively sank closer to the ground.

“Check the van!” he shouted to the other three men. “Find the scientist. I want her alive!”

Knowing she would be discovered within minutes if she didn’t get out of there, she frantically looked around. But there was no place to run. No place to hide. Oh dear God what now?

The ravine offered her only route of escape. It was steep and rocky and as black as an abyss, but if she wanted to live she was going to have to risk it. Silently she slithered on her belly to the edge of the cliff.

“There are tracks here!” came a gruff male voice scant yards behind her.

“Spread out!” came the killer’s voice. “I want her found!”

Gripping an exposed root, Mattie slid over the ledge. Her feet dangled. She could hear rocks falling below. Saying a silent prayer, she let go of the root and tumbled into space.

Chapter One

Sean Cutter knew from experience that good news never came in the dead of night. For an instant he considered not answering his cell phone.

“Cutter,” he growled.

“It’s Martin.”

Uneasy surprise rippled through him at the sound of his former superior’s voice. Martin Wolfe was CIA and at the very top of the agency food chain. At one time the two men had been friends, but that friendship had ended a year ago when Cutter walked away from a career he’d invested twelve years of his life in. A fact that made this call at two o’clock in the morning all the more ominous.

“Why in the bloody hell are you calling me at this hour?” Cutter snapped. But he’d always known the call would come. He’d known one
day they would want him back, that he wouldn’t be able to refuse.

“The Jaguar is in the country,” Wolfe said.

The name slammed into Cutter like a fist. For several interminable seconds he couldn’t speak.

“You there?”

Shaking himself mentally, Cutter sat up, threw his legs over the side of the bed. “Talk to me.”

“I got three dead U.S. Marshals and a missing Defense Department scientist. The Jaguar wants the scientist.”

Cutter got a bad feeling in the pit of his stomach. “Why?”

“She was the brain behind the EDNA Project.”

The situation solidified in a terrible rush. The EDNA Project was a top-secret weapons program funded by the Department of Defense. Though his knowledge of the weapon itself was limited, he knew DOD had been developing a new generation of weapons. A technology The Jaguar would do anything to obtain. If he got his hands on the scientist, he would possess a weapon the likes of which mankind had never seen.

“Martin, I’ve been out of the CIA for two year—”

“I need you back, Sean. I don’t have to tell you what this son of a bitch is capable of.”

Cutter knew exactly what The Jaguar was capable of. He had the scars to prove it. And even after two years, he still had the nightmares…

“If he gets his hands on EDNA, every city in the world will be at risk of being incinerated. We can’t let that happen.”

Cutter closed his eyes, the gravity of the situation sinking in. “Why me?”

“Because you know The Jaguar better than anyone. You’ve got the training. The experience.”

The killer instinct,
Cutter thought darkly and felt a little sick. After what happened on his last mission, he’d sworn never again…

A refusal teetered on his lips, but he didn’t voice it. Sean Cutter might have walked away from his career, but he never walked away from duty. Not even when he knew it could probably kill him.

“I want you to find the scientist before The Jaguar does, and bring her in.”

It seemed a simple assignment on the surface. But Cutter knew there was more. With Martin Wolfe, there was always more. “What else?”

“I want you to bring The Jaguar in this time, Sean. Homeland Security has given me forty-eight hours to get this done. After that I have to
take this public. Bring in local law enforcement and FBI.”

“And if The Jaguar gets to her before I do?”

“You have the authority to do whatever it takes to make sure she doesn’t talk.”

“What are you saying, Martin?”

“I’m saying she’s expendable. If the situation boils down to her life or the population of Los Angeles or New York or Houston, I want you to take her out.”

Cutter closed his eyes, dread seeping from every pore like fear sweat.

“I’ll catch the next flight out.”

“I’ve got a Lear waiting.”

“Pretty damn sure of yourself, aren’t you?”

“No, but I am sure of you.”

If only you knew,
Cutter thought, and disconnected.

He sat down hard on the bed, dread roiling in his gut. Putting his face in his hands, he tried not to think about what he’d done.

IN THE PREDAWN DARKNESS, Mattie took the trail at a reckless speed. The cuffs binding her hands hindered, but she didn’t slow down. Her labored breaths echoed against the canyon walls. A cold
wind swept through the gorge, whipping the trees into a frenzy.

She’d been running for what seemed like hours. She didn’t know where she was or where she was going, raw panic driving her forward. All she knew was if she stopped she would die.

She couldn’t believe her life had come to this. One short year ago she’d been living comfortably in a Washington, D.C., suburb. She’d driven her little blue Jetta to work every morning. She’d been happy. Challenged by her work. And falling for her attractive coworker, Daniel Savage. Everything had come to a grinding halt the day two grim-faced CIA agents walked into her office and arrested her for treason.

Treason.

Even now the insanity of the charge still stunned her. Overhead a spear of lightning split the sky. Mattie ducked reflexively but she didn’t slow her pace. She knew it would take a miracle, but if she could reach a phone, she could call Daniel. He would know what to do. He would help her if she asked, even if it meant risking his own reputation to do it. All she had to do was find a house or passing motorist.

Something rustled in the brush to her right. Biting back a cry, Mattie veered left.
Don’t stop!
the little voice inside her head chanted.
Don’t look behind you!

The shadow of a man appeared seemingly out of nowhere and lunged at her. She pivoted, trying to scramble away. But she wasn’t fast enough, and a hard body plowed into her with the force of a Sherman tank.

Mattie had expected claws and teeth or maybe an expedient shot to the head. Instead, strong arms clamped around her like a vise and tackled her to the ground. Spitting dirt, she rolled and lashed out with both feet. Satisfaction flicked in her brain when her assailant grunted. The next thing she knew he was on top of her. With her arms bound she could not defend herself.

“Get off me!” she shouted.

She caught a glimpse of dark eyes. She felt the tremendous force of his strength, and her only thought was that these were the last moments of her life.

“If you want to live you’ll be quiet.”

Mattie barely heard the rough whisper over the wild pounding of her heart. She tried to twist away, but he was heavy and strong, pinning her with ease.

“What do you—”

A hand slapped over her mouth, cutting her words short. “Shh.”

Mattie stilled, and for an instant the only sound came from their labored breaths and the tinkle of sleet against dry leaves. Blinking hair from her eyes, she looked up, found herself staring into icy, blue eyes.

“There are four heavily armed men less than two hundred yards away,” he said in a low voice. “Make another sound and they’ll kill us both. Do you understand?”

For an instant the sense of helplessness and terror nearly overwhelmed her. But Mattie could tell by the look in his eyes that if he wanted her dead, he would have already done it.

She jerked her head. Never taking his eyes from hers, he removed his hand from her mouth and put his finger to his lips. His eyes scanned the surrounding darkness. Reaching out, he grasped the base of a long-dead bush and dragged it over them. The bush was large and full and in the semidarkness would cover them completely.

He turned to her and looked into her eyes, his expression tense. He was lying squarely on top of her with some of his weight on his elbows. “Don’t move,” he whispered. “I’m not going to hurt you.”

His body was rock hard, his muscles taut. At
some point during the struggle her legs had opened, and he was lying between her knees, pressed intimately against her. He was no longer breathing hard, but she was.

“The tracks end here!” A heavily accented voice cut through the night like a blade.

“She’s using the stream to hide her tracks.” Another voice. Frighteningly near.

“We should have had her by now. We’re running out of time.”

Mattie listened, praying they wouldn’t be discovered when she saw a pair of boots and the butt of a semiautomatic rifle a few yards to her right. He was standing so close she could smell the stench of his sweat. Her breaths grew rapid and shallow.

“We’re safe,” the man lying on top of her whispered. “Just calm down.”

In the last hours she’d seen too much violence to keep a handle on the fear barreling through her. She could feel her entire body vibrating as a fresh wave of panic engulfed her. She began to hyperventilate. Her face and hands were tingling. If she didn’t get a grip, she was going to give away their hiding place and get them both killed.

Dry grass crunched as one of the killers drew closer. For a terrible instant Mattie thought he’d
heard her panicked breathing. She imagined him raising the rifle and shooting them the same way he’d gunned down the three marshals. The urge to jump to her feet and run was strong. She could feel her muscles twitching as the flight instinct kicked in.

“Easy,” the man lying on top of her whispered. “Slow, deep breaths.”

But Mattie was beyond hearing, beyond logic. She tried breathing through her nose, but she could no more slow her breathing than a marathon runner who’d just run ten miles.

Grass and leaves rustled nearby and she knew one of the men was approaching.
This is it,
she thought.
I’ve given away our hiding place and now they’re going to kill us.

The man on top of her shifted, and suddenly she was aware of the way his body fit against hers. Surprising her, he set his hands on either side of her face. His palms were warm and amazingly gentle as he brushed back the hair from her face. Mattie looked into the startling blue of his eyes. And even though the threat of death was so close she could feel the cold scrape of it against her spine, her only thought was that no man had ever looked at her the way this man did.

“What are you doing?” she asked.

“Saving our lives,” he said and lowered his mouth to hers.

CUTTER CONSIDERED HIMSELF a master of improvisation. He possessed an uncanny talent for making the best of a bad situation and the ability to adapt to current conditions. They were traits that made him the best of the best. At the moment, kissing this woman seemed like the most expedient way to keep her from getting both of them killed.

He hadn’t expected to get caught up in the softness of her mouth. Sean Cutter didn’t get caught up in anything, especially when it came to his job. But that was exactly what happened when his mouth made contact with hers.

She tried to turn her head, but he caught her cheek with his palm and deepened the kiss. She opened her mouth—to protest no doubt—and he seized the opportunity to take the kiss deeper.
Another mistake,
he thought dazedly, but by then he’d stopped counting.

Her mouth was warm and wet against his. Her body was curvy and soft and fit perfectly beneath him. He could feel the warmth of her quickened breaths against his cheek. And
despite the fact that they were seconds away from being discovered by four men who would not hesitate to execute them, he found his body responding to hers.

He struggled to control the hot rush of blood to his groin, reminding himself of all the terrible things that could happen next. But her mouth was incredibly soft, her body a promise of all the things he’d denied himself for what felt like a lifetime. And while Cutter was a whiz at improvisation, he hadn’t a clue how to stanch good-old-fashioned sexual arousal—no matter how dangerous.

But the kiss was working. Slowly her body relaxed against his, and her breathing slowed. Cutter broke the kiss and for several agonizing minutes neither of them moved while the four killers smoked cigarettes and spoke in a language he was all too familiar with. If the woman could feel his erection against her, she gave no indication. She was probably too terrified to notice. He should be, too, considering they were inches away from getting shot. But Cutter had already faced the worst thing a man could face. He didn’t have a death wish, but not much truly scared him anymore.

After what seemed like an eternity, the men
moved on. Cutter lay on top of his prisoner for several more minutes, listening to the men’s retreat. Once he deemed it safe, he tossed the bush aside and rose.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” Glaring at him, the woman sat up and with cuffed hands brushed at the leaves and dust on her clothes.