Ice Cold (37 page)

Kissing her gently, he disengaged, letting her legs slip from around his waist. “You’ll feel fighting fit after you get some sleep.”
“Will you sleep with me?”
He dropped his forehead to hers. “You couldn’t keep me away.”
Honey fisted her fingers in his hair, rising on her toes to trail kisses across the scar on his cheek. “Thank you for coming to get me.”
“If I’d left you there, my reputation would be besmirched.”
She smiled as he poured unscented soap in his hand and started washing her hair, his strong fingers magical as he massaged the suds against her scalp. “Besmirched?” Placing her hand under the dispenser, Honey filled her palm with liquid soap and set about washing him from the throat down.
“And it would be extremely difficult to explain to anyone asking, why I didn’t take you up on the lead you gave me,” he murmured, soaping her shoulders with slick hands. “Without that GPS bug you slipped Kobevko and your comm, this story might’ve had a very different ending.”
Something she’d been fairly certain would happen.
“You kissed me like Prince Charming, waking up whichever princess he woke up. It was very romantic.” She couldn’t believe she’d said that out loud. Maybe she did need that nap. She was trying to come up with something to say to cover her tracks, when he answered her.
“Do not get taken by a crazy bomber ever again. I aged ten years back there.”
“Really? You appeared very detached.”
“That’s to fool the bomb into believing I’m a cool customer. But my heart was racing, and I was sweating bullets.”
“That’s why you’re the Bomb Whisperer, because you appear so calm.”
“Appearances,” he told her softly, “can be incredibly deceiving. What looks cold, can, underneath, be a seething, boiling cauldron.”
“You melted me.”
He grinned. “Persistent heat and a lot of perseverance.”
He reached around her to add more warm water to the mix. It burned like hell at first, but after a minute or so, it felt wonderful. He kept adding more incrementally, until the bathroom filled with steam.
“Warm?”
“Hot.”

TWENTY-NINE

 R 
afael ran his palm gently over the swell of Honey’s firm ass. Her head was on his shoulder, her wet hair under his chin, her thigh flung over his hip. The lights in the cabin were dim, her body radiated heat, and he was relaxed for the first time in hours. He pulled the down blanket up to cover her shoulder, although her skin felt warm to the touch.

“I presume you left Kobevko to sample his own wares?” Trailing her fingers lazily up and down his arm, her voice sounded sleepy and content.
“It only seemed fitting.” He loved the feel of her taut muscles covered by silky smooth skin and rubbed his fingers over her firm flesh, careful of the bruising caused by the tie down wires. Being blown to small pieces-hoisted on his own petard- didn’t feel quite bad enough for Kobevko. Too bad he could only die once.
“It was clear he and Savage were working together. I doubt he would’ve given us any more than that even if we had managed to apprehend and question him at length. Interrogation rule number one, prisoners only tell what they think you want to hear. The more imperative a question is, the harder they try to give you a convincing answer. The only question I wish we’d gotten the answer to is how long they’d been working together, how far back that partnership went.”
Suddenly, she didn’t feel as relaxed as she had only moments before, and she stopped trailing her fingers on his arm as tension stiffened her body against him. He felt the tight breath she took against his chest. “What are you thinking?”
“I told you. I have the entire T-FLAC backup array duplicated at the ranch. Now I wonder if she decided to befriend me, take me under her wing because she knew about it and hoped to use me in the future. I wonder what she planned to do with all that data if she ever got her hands on it.”
“Fuck.”
“Yeah. Double that. This isn’t public knowledge, Rafe. Savin needed another backup to the backup. Dolan wanted to play closer to home. I had the time . . .” She shrugged. “It took us four years, but everything we have at HQ is backed up on my array. Only Dolan and Savin know; at least, that’s what I thought. Dolan and I have been working on security at the ranch for years. Jake is brilliant, as you know. He likes to keep hands on, and his place in Northern California—he says—is overrun with small people. Being close to HQ, in the middle of nowhere, was right up his alley.”
It was the first time since she’d told him about the backup that he hadn’t been consumed with little issues like survival or sex; the first chance he’d had to really think things over. Everything tumbled into place, suddenly.
“Savage wants to destroy T-FLAC. That’s what this has all been about. Not banks, or bombs. That was all sleight of hand. Smoke and mirrors. Getting into HQ would be impossible, but showing up and ringing the doorbell at your place will be a snap by comparison.”
Honey uncurled herself to sit up, pulling the blanket over her nakedness. “Actually—no. My property is as secure as, if not more so than, the T-FLAC compound. Jack Dolan invents strange and awesome security systems as a hobby, remember? He’s the king of security. Every time he comes up with something new, it’s because it’s been tried and tested and put through the most rigorous attacks at my place first.
“If I were Savage, I’d attacked HQ and the ranch simultaneously. No reason to take out the backup unless you are planning to take out the main source at the same time. But my guess is she wants to download everything, then destroy it.”
“Shit.” Rafael sat up, grabbed his comm off the table. “She wants to paralyze us by taking out all intel and data collected for the last decade.” The scope of information housed, secretly, in T-FLAC jumped from one part of his brain to the next. Secrets, aliases, covert operatives, bank accounts. His gut clenched.
“This will kill us.” Honey summed up his thoughts exactly in a cold voice simmering with anger. “Personally. Each and every one of us could be sold on the open market. Our information, our families. She takes out our intel then goes after our operatives, worldwide. Ready or not, prepared and experienced or not. If she accesses my array, she’ll have intel on every one of us, psych evals. Financial. Location of every safehouse worldwide. Sources. Home addresses. Family members. And unlimited funding—” She sliced a hand across her throat.
“She stole over a billion dollars in less than a week. Enough to fund a world war, but that’s not what she’s after.” Jesus. “A scorched earth campaign. She’s declaring war on T-FLAC.”

THIRTY

Montana

 N 
o activity since we got here,” Jake Dolan told them. “Nobody in or out. Savin reports
nada
at HQ either.”

The very air had an element of anticipation.

TTThe full moon rendered the landscape in sharp black and glaring white. The stillness, the silence, made it feel as if time stopped altogether. Three in the morning, when the body craved sleep, was an optimal time to attack. But Honey wasn’t prepared to hang around for one extra minute in the frigid Montana air counting down the seconds. Savage already had a head start.

Standing in the shadows at the tree line, between the two men, she had a bird’s-eye view down the valley at the house, an enormous log cabin, interior and exterior lights golden on the snow. It looked warm and familiar, welcoming. And, damn it to hell, whether she had visual confirmation or not, under siege.

The densely wooded area on the south side of her property consisted of hundred-foot-tall Ponderosa pines and provided decent cover. But between the woods and ranch buildings lay more than three miles of fresh, pristine, stark white landscape. Left clear for exactly the reason that was now an issue.

“Normal for all the lights in the house to be on?” Because he’d pulled off his face mask, Rafael’s words formed white puffs in the crisp, icy air. Cleverly constructed for exactly this kind of cold-weather op, the white LockOut suit had a cowl collar that snugged against the neck when down, but designed to be pulled over the head and lower part of the face, leaving only eyes visible. When accompanied by goggles, there was no skin visible or at risk of freezing.

“They come on automatically an hour before dusk. I don’t want Pollack stumbling—A security precaution.
I
would turn them off if I were skulking around. But Savage won’t know how.” Honey shot Dolan a small smile. He’d been the one to insist that only she know how to turn the lights inside the house on and off. A disadvantage to any intruder.

After their strategy session on the flight, after Rafael was familiar with the terrain and security of the compound, and after they made love again, they’d slept. Now they were on the ground and eliminating Savage once and for all was close enough to savor. Honey felt well rested and wired for sound.

A quick briefing at HQ, a change of clothes, a weapons check, and they’d joined the small army of T-FLAC operatives waiting for them on the outskirts of the ranch. Every nerve, tendon, and muscle in her body, ready for what was ahead.

Honey’s emotions, when she thought about the woman who’d been her mentor and friend, made a hard, sick knot in the pit of her stomach. Savage had threatened T-FLAC, but she’d taken things to a very personal level when she threatened Pollack. She’d crossed a line when she targeted the one man in Honey’s life who’d been faithful, loyal, and loving. A parent, a guardian who stood between her and the ugliness of the real world as best he could. If Savage touched one molecule of his skin, Honey would see the bitch’s death came slowly.

The first rule of self-defense and survival was a solid plan. Honey liked a solid plan, and now, when Pollack’s life and the survival of T-FLAC itself were on the line, she sure as hell wasn’t going in with guns blazing and a hope that the good guys would triumph. What she needed, now more than ever, was to access that ice-cold core of herself that could survive anything. Navarro’s presence made that iffy.

“If the house were empty, I’d blow everything to hell.” But Pollack, and who knew how many people were inside. Honey didn’t remember when, if ever, in her life she’d been this angry. And yes, scared. It was a toxic combo. She forced herself to take deep breaths of frigid, pine-scented air to center herself.

No going off half-cocked. Perfect calm. Steel resolve. No emotion, just the plan.

Rafael reached out to tuck a strand of her hair back under the formfitting hood of her LockOut suit with his gloved hand. He looked like the Abominable Snowman, just his dark eyes showing through his white ski mask. “You don’t know for sure she made it all the way into the house.”

“Impossible,” Jake Dolan said flatly. Like Honey and Rafael, he, too, wore white LockOut with the protective face and head covering. And even when the goggles were in place, and only the men’s eyes showed, Honey would never mistake one for the other.

“How so?” Navarro asked. “If there’s a way to put it together, there’s a way to take it apart.”

“Unless she’s been in my head—or Winston’s—for the last four years, she couldn’t’ve bypassed all the bells and whistles without tripping at least a dozen,” Dolan explained. “Nothing indicates a breach.”

“She’s close,” Honey told the men, voice grim. “Just because dozens of trained operatives, with hours to prep for her arrival, didn’t see her, doesn’t mean she hasn’t eluded all of them.” If there was a thick layer of sarcasm in her tone, she figured it was justified. Rafe had given Jake the heads-up call
hours
before Savage arrived. They’d had more than enough time to prepare. There weren’t that many airports. The woman hadn’t flown to Montana on her fucking
broom
.

Savage couldn’t know what occurred in the Prague warehouse after she’d lost visual and audio contact, yet she always seemed a step ahead. How? She’d automatically presume Honey—or someone else from T-FLAC—would be hot on her tail. She just didn’t know how soon after they’d last spoken that Honey managed to escape, if she’d escaped at all. Or maybe Savage thought Honey had been blown sky-high by Kobevko. It didn’t matter, and trying to second-guess Savage was a waste of time. Savage wasn’t stupid. She’d know someone would be on her ass sooner than later, and she’d be ready. It would be part of
her
plan.

Honey knew the bitch. She’d seen Savage in action and tried to mimic her mentor. Savage would weigh the odds and options. She’d expect the worst and prep for it. If their roles were reversed, Honey would’ve flown into Billings, and driven the couple of hours to the southwestern part of the state where the ranch and T-FLAC headquarters were located. The ranch, in a small valley, backing onto the Gallatin National Forest, was surrounded by the Gallatin Range, the most rugged, volcanic-rock mountain peaks in the state.

In the summer, Honey saw bighorn sheep and herds of bison out of her bedroom window, and the wild elk herd came to feed at the cattle licks. As far as she was concerned, the ranch was an extension of the wildlife sanctuary.

This was
her
sanctuary,
her
land,
her
people. And she was damned if Catherine Seymour was going to just waltz in and take everything she’d built, everything she
loved,
away from her.