Betrayed (Hostage Rescue Team Series Book 9) (29 page)

“I do,” he vowed. “I’d do anything for you.”

“I’d do anything for you too.” Then slowly her smile faded, doubt creeping into her eyes. “So now that this op is over, what does that mean for us?”

He cupped the side of her face in one palm, cherishing the feel of her soft skin against his hand. God, he’d give anything to be with her, but he just didn’t see how that was possible. “I don’t know. But even with Perez gone there’s still a risk to you. I’d feel better if we got you out of the country.”

She shook her head, her lips pressing together in a mulish expression he was coming to understand meant
no way in hell
. “Not without you. Never again, I already told you that.”

He opened his mouth to argue but in his peripheral he saw someone moving toward them. Automatically he moved in front of her, shielding her. But it was only Rycroft.

“Got some news,” the agent said as he strolled up, glancing between them. “This a bad time?”

“No,” they answered in unison, and both of them sounded a little defensive.

“Good. So I just got off the phone with the Director of the CIA.” He paused a beat, looking at Georgia. “Rossland’s in custody. He didn’t go quietly, but the point is he’s taken care of, and with the evidence I sent out to my various contacts, there’s no way he’ll ever get off.

“Oh, and the former CIA hitter at the cabin? He’s the one who poisoned you with the botulism toxin. The media’s already been alerted and the President is being briefed. I know you wanted to be the one to bring him down, but you did, even if not physically. And this way you get to stay out of prison,” he added with the hint of a grin.

“Bonus,” she muttered, completely unmoved, and Bautista loved her even more for the little show of attitude. His woman was intense.

“As for Mr. Perez,” he continued, “he’s off to a special holding facility. In your old room, actually,” he said to Bautista.

Bautista watched as Bauer and Cruz led Perez, in cuffs, to another ambulance. He hoped the medics didn’t use any freezing when they sewed him up. He did feel sorry for Laura and the kids though. “Just wish his family didn’t have to go through what’s coming,” he said.

“They’ll be better for it in the long run,” Rycroft answered. “But yeah, it sucks. Hopefully that tears him apart for the rest of his days.”

Bautista hoped so too.

He stood there and watched the HRT members shove Perez up into the back of the ambulance, almost smiled at the cry of pain that came from across the lawn. Perez would never be a free man again, and he’d hurt just as much inside as he was hurting on the outside right now.

That had to be enough.

“Funny, that you’d tag Perez in that very spot on the back of the shoulder,” Rycroft mused, his expression conveying suspicion and something else Bautista couldn’t put his finger on.

Bautista shot him a frown. It was funny?

“In any case, you two have earned some time off. I’m going to be busy with interrogations and paperwork for a few days. I’ll see you—” He stopped and pulled out his phone, answered it and walked away without looking at them.

Bautista stared after him, stunned. He’d been bracing for a verbal tear-down, or maybe an assault charge for it. Not this. Back in that cave, Rycroft had been royally pissed at him. He’d assumed he’d be facing some sort of disciplinary measure—if not jail time.

And that comment about the shoulder thing seemed so random, yet Rycroft wasn’t a random kind of guy so he had to have said it for a reason…

He went still, felt Georgia stiffen in front of him.

“Did he seriously just…?” Georgia whispered, as if she was afraid to say it out loud.

“I think he did, yeah.” He turned around to face her, met her eyes. “His endgame must have been for me to help them get Perez. So I guess for now, we’re off the hook.” That felt…weird, but incredible, the prospect of freedom exhilarating.

She raised her eyebrows. “Any chance you still have a knife on you?”

Yeah, as a matter of fact he did.

Seizing her hand, he led her into the shadows created by the ornamental shrubs and plants next to the west side of the house. He had the advantage of knowing where all the security cameras were now, knew the exact blind spots that would help them hide. And Rycroft had obviously known it.

When he was sure no one was paying attention or had seen them creep in here to hide, he tugged on Georgia’s hand and followed the path he’d picked out. Within minutes they were down at the beach. He was careful to avoid the sand so as not to leave any obvious footprints, finally coming to a stop beneath the shade of a tree positioned close to the bank.

Reaching down, he pulled out his remaining blade and hit the switch. The blade sprung free, gleaming silver in the moonlight. He held it out for her.

She took it, but gave him a hesitant look. “You sure about this?”

“I trust you.” He gave her his back, something he never did. But he would for her.

She began feeling around his right shoulder blade with her fingers. “How big is it, do you think?”

“Small. Real small.” Otherwise it would have been too easy to detect.

She made a frustrated sound. “I don’t feel anything but muscle and scar tissue. Man, you’ve got a lot of scars back here. This obviously isn’t the first time you’ve felt a blade back here. I—” She stopped, her fingers stilling against his skin. Then she probed harder. “I think I feel something. It’s small, about the size of a grain of rice. More scar tissue?”

Only one way to find out. “Get it out of me.” He couldn’t wait for it to be gone. For
them
to be gone, far away from here. Together.

“Okay, stand still. I mean it, don’t move.”

“I won’t.”

The tip of the blade touched his skin. He could feel how gingerly she moved it. It sliced into his skin, a clean cut because the edge was so sharp.

“I think I’ve got something.” She dug around with the tip. “Sorry, I’m being as gentle as I can.”

“It’s fine.” The pain was nothing, just a little sting, and he’d bear far worse for the chance of a future with her as a free man.

“Got it.” A moment later she stuck her hand out, palm up, revealing something in the center.

In the little pool of blood that had gathered around it lay a tiny microtracker. “I’ll be damned,” he murmured.

She handed it to him. “I don’t suppose you’ve got a bandage on you?” She pressed his shirt against the wound to stem the bleeding.

“No. But don’t worry, I clot fast.”

She snickered. “That shouldn’t be funny, but right now it is.”

He grinned. “It’s been that kind of night.”

A minute later she let up on the pressure. “I think it’s stopped bleeding mostly. Sort of.” She came around beside him, looked from the transmitter to him, her eyes full of hope. “Now what?”

In answer he drew his arm back and threw the tiny device as far as he could. It landed in the water without so much as a ripple and was swallowed up by the waves. If the NSA or anyone else tried to track the transmitter now, they’d be disappointed.

Georgia wiped his blade clean on the inside of her shirt and handed it back to him. He took it, stared fondly at the weapon.

“What?” she asked.

He shook his head once. “Just ironic.”

“What is?”

The blade twinkled silver in the light as he twisted it from side to side. “I used this on men to mete out justice, but in reality it made me a prisoner.” Perez’s slave. “And now it’s set me free.”

Her gorgeous, soft lips turned up in a gentle smile. “It’s set us both free.”

He looked into her eyes, lowered the blade. “Yes.” And now they finally had a chance to start fresh—together. How amazing was that?

Putting the knife back into its sheath, he grasped her hand, laced their fingers together. Excitement pulsed through him, the anticipation so heady he felt half-drunk.

“So. You ready for this?” Asking her to disappear with him was asking a lot, he knew that. But he would spend the rest of his life doing his best to be the man she deserved, and love her with everything in him.

She squeezed his hand, looking both excited and nervous. “Where will we go?”

There was a marina a couple miles to the south. They could steal a boat, make it out into international waters within a couple hours. He’d done it before, knew how to disappear. And so did she.

“Cuba, at least to start.” It was relatively close, his grandmother had been born there and he was a native Spanish speaker. “From there we can pick a non-extradition country. And if you’re worried about money or how we’ll live, don’t be. I’ve got funds the government has no clue about. We can easily live off that for the rest of our lives without either of us ever working another day.”

He’d buried the offshore account so deep it would take a team of investigators months, maybe longer, to uncover it all. And given the way Rycroft had hinted about the tracking device and pretty much just given him the opportunity to run, he doubted the NSA would have enough interest in him to fund that kind of effort.

Georgia shot him a cocky grin. “Nice. But I’ve socked away quite a decent little nest egg myself, so I don’t need or want your money.” She wound her arms around his neck. “Only thing I need is you.”

It shouldn’t have mattered, but it felt like his heart expanded three sizes in response to those words. “You’ve got me. All of me. Forever.”

“Then let’s go,” she whispered, and leaned up on tiptoe to seal their secret contract with a kiss.

Bautista led the way, still holding her hand. Together they climbed over the rocks, using the smaller ones as a bridge to the water. Georgia’s steps were nimble, her grip on his hand solid, steady.

On top of the final rock, he paused and looked back at her, poised on the larger rock behind him. One good jump from where he was standing, and they’d be on their way to their new life together.

It was more than a jump, it was a leap of faith. One that required the utmost trust between them.

“Ready, angel?” he asked, his heart beating faster. She was so gorgeous standing there on that rock, her golden brown hair blowing in the breeze and a smile on her lips.

She nodded, her eyes shining up at him with pure happiness. “Ready. Let’s do this.”

Turning back to face the water, he let go of her hand and jumped. His boots and lower legs plunged into the chilly waves, the water rushing around his calves.

Before he could turn around, Georgia was there beside him, grabbing his arm to steady herself.

She gave him an impish grin. “Race you.” Without waiting she turned and began running through the waves, following the shoreline toward the marina up the beach.

Bautista followed with his heart full to bursting while the waves lapped against the shore, erasing their steps forever.

****

An arrhythmia.

That’s what had almost killed her. The powerful Taser’s charge had knocked her heart out of rhythm, then stopped it completely.

Her chest was covered with black and blue bruises and her lungs hurt, she might have a cracked rib or two from the chest compressions, but none of that mattered now.

She was lucky to be alive.

It was a sobering thought, and one Briar had had ample time to think about while the doctors had run a battery of tests. Her heartbeat was once again strong and normal, but the arrhythmia was still there, having gone undetected until now.

But nearly dying had put a lot of things into perspective. She’d been holding back. Not consciously, but she had nonetheless. And Matt deserved better than that.

The curtain was pulled aside and he stepped through as though he’d read her mind. His beloved San Diego Chargers hat was nowhere to be seen, probably still back somewhere between the mobile command center and the place he’d found her on the lawn.

He gave her a gentle smile and came around to sit in the chair beside her bed. “Everything looks great but they want to keep you overnight just to be safe, and so they can monitor your heart rate.”

She nodded, reached for his hand. He curled his fingers around hers, his grip warm and strong. Steadfast. Exactly like the man himself. “I haven’t been fair to you,” she began.

He frowned in confusion, tilted his head a fraction. “What do you mean?”

“I mean about us. I’ve been lying here thinking for the past few hours. This was a giant wakeup call for me.”

God, when she thought of what he must have gone through in those few minutes when he’d been racing to her, watching her lying there lifeless and doing CPR just like he had with Lisa, her heart broke. She knew how badly his first wife’s death had scarred him.

That he’d almost had to go through that a second time tore her up inside. And she knew that had the roles been reversed, watching him go off and take unnecessary risks with his life would have made her nuts.

“I’ve been selfish. And a coward,” she continued. “No,” she said, holding up a hand when he would have argued. “It’s true. You’ve given me all of you and I was still holding part of myself back. I’m sorry I did that. But I won’t anymore.”

She gripped his hand tighter, didn’t even try to fight the tears that pricked her eyes. “I love you. More than you even realize. I’ve been selfish in wanting to keep playing at being a Valkyrie.”

“You’re not
playing
at anything. And I love that you’re a Valkyrie.”

“But I don’t need to live like one anymore.” She pushed out a breath, winced as it put stress on her cracked ribs. “I’m going to tell Alex that I want to move into an analyst position, rather than be a field agent.”

Matt stared at her for a long moment, his surprise clear. “You sure?”

“Yes,” she said, already feeling better just having said it aloud. “It’s time. I can still back him or another team up if necessary, but I can help from behind the scenes too.” The next part was hard for her because it made her feel unbearably vulnerable, but she trusted him and it needed to be said. “And I want to get married.”

At that his eyebrows shot up. “Wait, what?”

“I know, you’ve been asking me if I want to for months and I’ve always made up some excuse or another. But I’m ready now.”