Eye of the Storm (28 page)

"Neither do you," he whispered, pulling her close, wrapping her in his arms, the beating of his heart against her ear comforting beyond words. He stroked her hair, then tilted her chin to look into her eyes. "I love you, Simone. I always have. And I suspect that I always will. Whatever you were or weren't in your past is irrelevant. What matters is now. That's it. Just that we're here together now."

"But there's so much between us."

"Garbage. All of it. How many people are lucky enough to find the kind of love we have? And we were willing to throw it all away just because the going got a little rough? We're going to make it out of this alive. And we're going to go home. We're going to start over, and build a life together. One step at a time."

"You make it sound so simple." She reached up to trace the line of his cheek, to memorize the feel of his skin.

"Maybe it is. Maybe it's just about believing in ourselves. And trusting that what we feel for each other is enough to get us through whatever gets thrown at us. You're not a little girl on the streets anymore, Simone. You're a grown woman with an amazing heart and a family who loves you. That's not a bad place to be. All you have to do is reach out and take what we're offering, Martin and I."

She looked up at him, the moonlight turning his hair silver, and she knew suddenly that nothing would ever be the same without him in her life. And that no matter the risk, no matter if all they had was one more day, she wanted it. Wanted it with every fiber of her being.

"I love you, Reece," she said, cupping his face in her hands. "I can't promise you the perfect life. But I can promise to be there with you, whatever life may bring."

"That's all any of us can ask for, Simone." And he bent his head to press his lips against hers, the kiss a covenant, more binding than any piece of paper ever could be.

He held her close again, and together they watched as the moon set, the stars popping out of the now-darkened sky like little diamonds against a swath of midnight-colored velvet. Maybe the princess had been wrong to jump into the sky. Maybe there had been happiness waiting for her right here on earth.

She'd only needed to open her eyes and recognize what it was she had.

IT DIDN'T FEEL like morning. It was still dark outside, and Reece had really only gotten a few hours of sleep. Simone was standing over him, the look on her face telling.

"It's time?" He rolled to a sitting position, stretching sore muscles.

She nodded. "You don't have to get up, I just wanted to let you know I was going."

There was a world of meaning in her words, but he didn't want to dwell on any of it. Right now he had to let her concentrate on what it was she needed to do. It was the only thing he could contribute toward her safety.

Tate was shrugging into his pack. And now that he was standing, Reece realized Simone was already carrying her gear as well.

Derek handed Simone and Tate their guns along with extra ammo. "I cleaned and loaded them both. You should be good to go."

"You still have ammo, right?" Tate asked. "Just because you're staying here, doesn't mean you're out of danger."

"We're fine," Derek said, his eyes cutting to the gear by the fire.

"All right then," Tate said, giving a last tug at the backpack.

Simone nodded, then turned to Reece. "You understand why I've got to do this?" It was a concession that she asked.

"I do. I don't like it. But I definitely understand." What he really wanted was to beg her to let him go with her. But he knew that in doing that he was sending the wrong message.

"Okay." She leaned up to give him a brief kiss, then turned to Tate. "Let's do it."

"Simone." Martin stood, bleary-eyed, blinking owlishly in the firelight.

She walked over and gave him a hug, whispering something that made Martin laugh.

"If you're finished with the long goodbyes?" Tate prompted.

She nodded, hugged Martin again and then they were off. Reece stood and watched until they'd disappeared into the undergrowth, resisting the urge to grab the field glasses to follow her descent.

"You all right here?" Derek asked. "I thought I'd do a quick check to make sure we're still alone up here." He patted the Beretta in his waistband.

"Yeah. We're fine. Be careful out there."

The other man nodded and set out in the opposite direction Tate and Simone had gone, heading instead toward the road.

The first rays of sunlight were just peeking over the mountain, lines of pink and orange streaking over the mountaintops. Reece had never felt so helpless and, weirdly enough, at the same time hopeful. It was an odd combination to be sure.

"I guess this is it," Martin said, coming up to stand beside him. "Feels funny to just be standing around waiting."

"Well, we're not exactly in our element." It was an understatement really.

"I think we've held up pretty well actually, all things considered. I mean, there's a lot to be said for training and all that, but a little brainpower still goes a long way."

"So what did Simone say to you?" he asked his brother. "I heard you laughing."

"She told me she loved me." He ducked his head, clearly embarrassed. "And she asked me to take care of you."

"And that's funny?"

"Well, you're not really the kind of guy who lets people take care of him, you know?"

"Maybe it's about time I gave it a shot." He wrapped an arm around Martin. "How about you fix us some breakfast."

"You realize you're taking your life in your own hands?" Martin grinned, then sobered, his words taking on a more sinister cast in light of Simone and Tate's mission. "Where's Derek?"

"He's checking the perimeter." Reece glanced down at his watch. "But he's been gone longer than he should have. I'll tell you what. You go see if you can figure out how to at least make the coffee, and I'll go see if I can round him up."

"Sounds like a plan." Martin was already heading for the stoked fire and the charred coffeepot.

With a last look in the direction Simone and Tate had disappeared, Reece headed out in search of Derek. What had passed for a trail petered out after a couple hundred feet, and Reece was reduced to pushing his way between saplings and scrub. He soldiered on another thirty yards or so and then stopped, thinking that if he didn't turn around and go back Derek would be looking for him.

He turned to go, but stopped when something glinted silver in the dappled light off to his left. His first reaction was to hit the ground, thinking that it might be the barrel of a gun. But after swallowing a mouth full of leaves, and hearing the uninterrupted chatter of the birds, he pushed to his feet, turning in a slow circle to try and locate the anomaly again.

At first there was nothing, and he almost convinced himself the whole thing was a product of his slightly over-stimulated imagination. Then he saw it again. A brief sparkle as the breaking sunrise filtered through a gap in the trees.

He reached for his gun, surprised almost as much by the fact that he automatically went for it as by the fact that it wasn't there. He frowned, then remembered it was lying beside his pack. He'd put it there last night when he and Simone had finally settled down to sleep.

It was tempting to go back for it. But there was nothing indicating a real threat, and in the time it would take him to go back, it was totally possible whatever it was out there would disappear.

Moving as quietly as possible, he edged toward where he'd seen the glint of silver. Suddenly the trees parted, opening into a man-made clearing. At one end Reece could see the end of a car track, the ruts similar to the ones Derek had pointed out earlier as a part of the road.

At the other end of the clearing was a battered shed, currently sheltering a dark blue Range Rover. It was the bumper Reece had seen glittering in the sunshine. He waited in the shadow of a pine tree, making certain that nothing in the clearing moved. If there was a vehicle out here, he had to assume it had an owner somewhere.

After waiting maybe five minutes, he moved around the edge of the clearing, using trees for cover, until he was next to the shed. Again he paused, listening for signs of life. Except for the chattering of a squirrel, everything remained quiet. Stepping into the shed, Reece laid his hand on the hood of the Range Rover. It was cold. Whoever had left it here hadn't done so recently.

Just inside the shed he waited for his eyes to adjust to the shadows, surprised to see that there was a door in the back leading to another room. Keeping his back to the wall, he moved forward, stopping every two steps or so to make certain he didn't have company.

It was only when he reached the rear of the Range Rover that he heard a noise. A voice. Muffled by the door, which was only partially open, he couldn't make out what was being said. Despite an internal bell ringing out a warning, he inched closer until he was standing at the edge of the door frame, the only thing separating him from the person in the room the door itself.

"Green October, this is Blue Delta, you copy?" the person in the room asked, the voice still slightly muffled.

There was a pause followed by some static as the caller waited for someone on the other end of the radio to respond.

"Green October, this is Blue Delta, you copy?"

The voice sounded familiar, but without moving closer there was no way Reece could identify it. And he sure as hell wasn't going in there without knowing exactly what it was he'd be facing.

"You copy?" The voice asked again.

"I'm here." The voice at the other end of the radio line was hard to understand, the distance making it reverberate, sounding almost like an echo.

"Excellent. Any problems with privacy?"

"None at all. She hasn't got a clue."

Reece frowned, the feminine pronoun putting him on alert. Despite the danger he moved closer so that he could hear.

"Copy that," the man in the room said, a trace of laughter in his voice. "Everything is a go here."

"...time...as scheduled..." The other voice was breaking up, but apparently the words satisfied the caller.

"Good. I'll complete my end of things, and meet you at the rendezvous at the agreed-upon time."

"...careful..." the disembodied voice said. "Sheridan.. .dangerous...than he looks."

Reece grimaced, forcibly containing himself from running into the room.

The man in the room laughed. "No worries. It'll be a piece of cake. They're amateurs. Hell, they'll be dead before they realize what hit them."

Reece clenched his fists, wishing he had his gun. The radio man's intent was clear. He was supposed to kill the team members remaining at the hideout. Best to pull out now and regroup. They needed a plan.

He'd actually started his retreat when something the man had said pulled front and center. Amateurs. He'd called them amateurs.

But Derek was CIA.

Reece forced himself to move forward again, sliding an inch at a time until he was at the very edge of the open door. Sucking in a breath, he glanced into the room, his vision confirming what he'd already guessed.

The man at the radio was Derek.

They'd been betrayed.

"Blue Delta out," Derek said. "And Tate? Be careful out there, Simone Sheridan is no pushover."

*****

"EVERYTHING ALL RIGHT?" Simone asked as Tate crawled in next to her. She was lying on her stomach in a tall stand of grass, looking down at the stone wall that ran along the perimeter of
El Ojo de la Tormenta
.

"Yeah. Derek said everything's quiet. Martin's making breakfast. Reece was just back from checking for intruders. So they're both fine."

She'd known they would be. But she couldn't help worrying just the same. In fact, it had taken every ounce of self-control she possessed not to follow Tate and insist on speaking to Reece. But she'd known it would be better if she let Tate do it alone. She needed to prove to herself that she could separate her two lives. At least long enough to take care of Isabella.

"What're you seeing?" Tate asked, picking up a pair of field glasses.

"There are two sets of guards," she whispered. "The first is about a hundred yards to the east." She lifted her own glasses as Tate shifted so that he could see them better. "Best I can tell they're stationary. Three of them. All armed. One with a rifle."

"And the second group?"

"Only two, but they're mobile. Driving what looks to be a modified golf cart. They're both carrying machine guns. I'm guessing there are more like them as they only seem to patrol about a four-hundred-yard stretch of the wall. Takes maybe fifteen minutes for the whole rotation."

"So we ought to be able to get in after they've passed by?"

"Seems like a real possibility. I'm thinking if there were security cameras, they wouldn't need the patrol."

"The intel seemed to indicate that cameras are only used at the entrance and along the wall where there's access from the road."

Simone lowered her binoculars. "What I've observed seems to back it up. So I make it three more minutes," she said, checking her watch, "and then the patrol ought to have reached the end point and be turning back. That should give us about an eight-minute window."

As if they'd been cued, the white cart appeared for a moment between the trees that spotted the grounds beyond the stone wall.

"That's it." She scrambled to her feet, already moving down the rise. "Time to move."

She could feel rather than hear Tate behind her, amazed at how quickly the two of them had rediscovered their old rhythm. It was as if they'd never left D-9. She reached the flat just before the wall, and sprinted across the little bit of open ground, keeping low and hopefully out of sight.

She stopped at the wall, using a fallen log and a colony of ferns to hide behind. Tate slid in next to her. From this vantage point all they could see was the wall. It was about eight feet high and covered with moss, the stones wet from the humid air of the valley.

They listened for a minute and then, satisfied that the patrol had not deviated from the norm, Tate pulled out a grappling hook. After two almost lazy circles, he tossed it at the wall, its barbed fingers finding instant purchase among the slabs of rock.

Simone was up and over in less than three minutes, which left them about four. Fortunately, Tate was up in two, throwing the grappling hook to her, and then jumping. She wound the rope and stuffed the hook into her pack, then followed Tate as he sprinted toward another stand of trees.

Just as she reached the safety of the trees, she heard the whine of the golf cart's engine, and the patrol popped back into sight. "Well done," Tate whispered. "Seems we haven't lost our edge." His smile was intimate, and she swallowed a thread of discomfort. She and Tate had a history and just because she'd moved on, it didn't erase everything that had been between them.

The patrol passed by the trees and disappeared again from sight.

But all of that would have to wait.

"Follow me," Tate mouthed, indicating a rocky outcrop fronted by grass.

Simone nodded, keeping low as she raced across the open expanse, dropping down behind the rocks. They continued their forward progress, using trees, rocks and once even an overturned Jeep to keep from being seen. Finally, in what seemed like slow motion, they reached the second wall.