Читать книгу Black Ops Warrior - Amelia Autin - Страница 15

Chapter 5

Savannah stared up at Niall, an arrested expression on her face. “Okay,” she said slowly. “Maybe they work here. Or maybe they’re a sophisticated gang of thieves who’re masquerading as guests, maybe even on the tour. But how do you get from that to thinking they weren’t just planning to rob me?”

Niall chose his words carefully. “What did they say when they knocked at your door?”

She shook her head, her brow furrowed, as if she wasn’t seeing his point. “All they said was—” Then she got it. “Housekeeping,” she whispered. “But no Chinese accent.”

He nodded. “I don’t see them speaking English like an American if they were there to rob you. It’s possible, of course, but not very likely. Which means you were probably targeted for some other reason. And the only reason that comes to mind is...the job you used to have.”

“How do you know what my job used to be?” Her face had lost some of its color. “I never told you.”

“I can put two and two together, same as you. You told me you’re an engineer. You told me who your employer was, and you told me they tried to convince you not to quit.” He smiled faintly. “Doesn’t take a rocket scientist to figure out you were a rocket scientist. And, therefore, vitally important to the defense industry in some way. Which makes me think...”

“I’m not that important. Not enough for someone to, to—”

“Kidnap you?”

She swallowed hard. “It’s like something out of a spy novel. Things like this don’t happen in real life.”

“Maybe not. But give me another reason why someone would target you.” She couldn’t and he knew it, and his heart went out to her. “I work in security,” he reminded her, although he wasn’t about to tell her what kind of security. “It’s my job to be suspicious. To question everything.” He waited for that to sink in, then asked, “I don’t suppose you’ll agree to cancel the rest of this tour and go home.”

She blinked at him as if she couldn’t believe what he was suggesting. “Go home?” she asked, clearly stunned. “I’ve wanted to take this trip practically my whole life. I finally—finally—get up the courage to do it after my parents—” She stopped abruptly, and the stricken expression on her face told him she couldn’t finish that sentence without breaking down. But she didn’t have to say it for him to know what was in her mind. “And you want me to go home?”

Her voice had risen in intensity, but then she glanced around to make sure she hadn’t drawn attention with her outburst. She lowered her voice when she continued. “No way,” she said fiercely, but with a tearful edge that made his throat ache. “I saw the Great Wall yesterday, but that’s not nearly enough. I’m going to see the Forbidden City, Niall. And the Xi’an terracotta warriors, too. I am. I’m going to cruise the Yangtze River, visit the Three Gorges Dam and the Goddess Stream. I’m not giving that up. I’m not. I’m not!”

He cradled her face in his hands. “Okay,” he soothed. “Okay.” He slid his arms around her and pulled her close. “I understand, Savannah. I do. You’re not just doing this for you, but for your parents, too. I understand.”

He felt the shudder that traveled through her entire body when he mentioned her parents. Well, he’d known what her answer would be, hadn’t he? Which meant his options had just dwindled down to one. Protect Savannah for the next two weeks. Keep her safe so she could visit all the sights she’d planned to see, for herself and for her parents.

And to do that—to be with her 24/7—he just might have to accept the invitation she’d extended last night and become her lover. A sacrifice in one way, because any more time in her company would push him right over the edge. He knew that. And when they returned to the States, when he had to let her go—how could she ever forgive him once she discovered why he was there in the first place?—it would be like taking a bullet to his heart again.

But in another way, it wouldn’t be a sacrifice. Because part of him acknowledged he had to have her, just once. He had to know what it was like to make love to her. To feel her body arch beneath his and make her cry his name. To see the smile of a woman who’d been well and truly loved on her face when she looked at him.

He didn’t know how he’d managed to go from contemplating killing her to needing her like he needed his next breath in less than twenty-four hours, but he had. And he knew his life would never be the same again.

* * *

Damn, damn, damn! the man told himself as he closed the email and logged off his computer. The fourteen-hour time difference between Alamogordo, New Mexico, and Beijing meant he’d only learned of last night’s failure to kidnap Savannah Whitman early this morning, and his encrypted, coded reply with further instructions for his agents hadn’t been read until they’d woken this morning in Beijing. Phone calls back and forth wouldn’t be any better time-wise, and he would run the risk that the National Security Agency might be listening. His emails could be intercepted, too, but the encryption should make it nearly impossible for the NSA to crack them, and besides he was using coded instructions.

No, encrypted emails were far more secure, and his frustration had nothing to do with the method of communication. Just with the execution...or lack of it.

He’d tried for years to lure the quietly brilliant Dr. Savannah Whitman to work for his company to no avail. But now he had no choice. He’d lost too many competitive proposals to the company that had employed Dr. Whitman, because the damned DoD trusted her and her work. Which meant his company had been teetering on the brink already. And the breakthrough missile design she’d just come up with this summer? The one that had made the missile his company had been supplying to the DoD for years obsolete?

He’d cursed her, but he’d also known he had to gain possession of her to stave off bankruptcy. And he could no longer afford to wait the two years demanded by the non-compete agreement she’d signed, either. Not that that would prohibit her from working for his company those two years; it would just forbid her from working on something directly related to a previous project...which was exactly what he wanted her to do. And he knew she was just too ethical to try to skirt the strict interpretation of that non-comp.

So he’d had an epiphany when he’d learned she was taking a year off after the deaths of her parents and traveling the world, beginning with China. This was his perfect opportunity to kidnap her...and throw suspicion on the Chinese government.

His secret glee had known no bounds when he’d cast aspersions on her character with the US government—payback for the many times she’d turned down his job offers—and he’d pretended to be greatly reluctant about revealing the “true” reason behind her resignation from her former employer. It had been so easy to manipulate suspicion, because certain high-ranking individuals within Homeland Security and the DoD were paranoid about the government of the People’s Republic of China. A private word here, a calculated disclosure there and he’d succeeded beyond his wildest dreams.

But he still had to kidnap her and make it appear to be the work of the PRC. Everything depended on it. Which meant this man who’d suddenly turned up on the tour and befriended Dr. Whitman, this man who’d unwittingly interfered with the brilliant plan, had to be eliminated. One way or another.

* * *

Savannah stared in wonder at the vast expanse in front of her that was Tiananmen Square, across the street from the Forbidden City. So vast, it literally dwarfed the tens of thousands of people assembled there. The tour guide was droning on and on about the history of Tiananmen Square in her electronic earpiece, but she turned off her little receiver because she didn’t need him to tell her. She knew.

She could see the row of tanks in her mind’s eye, see the lone man confronting them. You could debate the rights and wrongs of what happened that day in 1989 and everything that led up to it, but the bravery of the man confronting the tanks was beyond question.

She turned to Niall, standing quietly at her side, and blinked away tears. “He believed,” she whispered.

Niall seemed to be able to read her mind, because he said, “Yeah. He had the courage of his convictions. He didn’t die that day, you know—he was pulled to safety. But no one knows what ultimately happened to him. There are conflicting reports. Some say he was later arrested and executed, some say he escaped and went into hiding.”

“I believe in fighting for democracy, too,” she blurted out. “With all my heart. I have friends who ask me how I can do what I do for a living and still sleep at night. And I tell them they don’t understand. The work I do—the work I did,” she corrected, “it’s vital to national security.”

She drew a quick breath. “Guided missiles are so much better than anything we used to have. It’s my job to make sure our missiles are as accurate as possible, so they hit the military targets they’re aimed at, and civilian casualties are minimized.”

He didn’t say anything for the longest time. Then he leaned down and brushed his lips against hers in a chaste kiss. “Eloquently put,” he murmured when he raised his head. There was an expression in his eyes she couldn’t interpret. It almost looked like remorse. But what about her words would make Niall feel remorseful?

* * *

More proof—if he needed it—that Savannah wasn’t a traitor, Niall realized. But someone had deliberately set out to convince the US government she was. Why?

Her words also made him extremely glad he worked for a government that didn’t automatically assume guilt and act accordingly. Yes, he’d been dispatched to prevent Savannah from betraying the US by whatever means necessary. But his first assignment had been compiling proof of her guilt that would stand up in a court of law. Killing her would have been a last resort, only if he couldn’t stop her any other way.

He didn’t want to dwell on what might have been, because it wasn’t going to happen. Not now. But what she’d just revealed only added to his determination to find out who had made Savannah his target, and why. And to bring that person to justice.

* * *

The couple posing as husband and wife watched from a hundred yards away as Savannah and Niall walked hand in hand through the Forbidden City. Savannah, they were quick to notice, was completely oblivious to the danger they posed. Niall, not so much. His gaze was constantly moving, moving. Checking out the crowd, almost as if he were cataloguing people for future reference. They smiled and waved when his eyes met theirs, then they turned away to enter one of the small courtyards to deflect suspicion that they had Savannah and Niall under observation.

“Spencer was right,” the man said. “He’s a complication we don’t need.”

The woman froze, then glanced left and right to make sure no one was close enough to overhear. “You’re going to kill him?” she whispered, obviously appalled. As if to say she’d signed up for kidnapping, but not for murder.

“I’d rather not if I don’t have to. Don’t want to bring official scrutiny on the tour if I can help it. But if I can arrange a little accident...” He shrugged. “A broken leg, maybe. Something to put him in the hospital or at least incapacitate him. We’ll see.”

* * *

Hours later, Savannah was exhausted. She’d walked for miles, it seemed, had ascended and descended countless broad stairways in her determination not to miss anything, had poked her nose into numerous courtyards, had peered into glass-walled rooms depicting homey little scenes of family life in the royal palace. She’d taken hundreds of photos with her camera that would be a pictorial diary she’d look back on years hence.

And she’d reveled in Niall’s company. She’d been surprised at how knowledgeable he was about Chinese history, both ancient and modern, and had thoroughly enjoyed every moment they’d spent discussing the pluses and minuses of life in China’s glorious past.

“Not so great for women, of course,” she stated after long discussions about Chinese contributions to art and science, the Silk Road and commerce, gunpowder, the invention of paper and life in general under the Chinese emperors.

“Yeah, but not really all that different from what life was like for women in England or Europe at that time, either,” he countered.

“True.” She stopped and drew a deep breath, conscious that her leg muscles were about to revolt.

“Tired?”

“A little,” she admitted, then amended, “Okay, a lot. But very happy I came here. It’s just so much to cram into a small span of time. I could spend days here and not see everything.”

One corner of his mouth twitched into a half smile. “Yeah, but you’ve seen the highlights, same as at the Great Wall. And you can always say you’ve been here.” He gestured to her camera. “Want me to take your picture for you?”

“Ye...yes...”

But he’d apparently noticed her slight hesitation. “You don’t want me to take your picture?”

“That’s not it.” Just spit it out, she told herself firmly. “Could I take one of the two of us?” She raised her camera. “I’ve gotten pretty good at taking selfies. Would you mind?” Then she held her breath.

“The pictures you already took of me aren’t enough?”

She stared at him. “You knew? You didn’t say anything.”

He laughed. “You’d make a lousy spy—you weren’t all that surreptitious.”

“Oh.” Nonplussed, she asked, “You don’t mind?”

“Mind that you want memories of the time we’ve spent together?” His lips quirked into a smile. “What do you think?”

“I wasn’t... It’s just that... Well, yes,” she confessed. “But I’d like at least one photo of the two of us together. Please?”

He slid an arm around her shoulders. “My pleasure.”

Savannah held her camera out away from the two of them and snapped a couple of shots, looking at the screen after each one to make sure she hadn’t cut off the top of their heads or anything stupid like that. “One more,” she pleaded.

Niall flashed her a smile. “Why sure, darlin’.”

His smile went right through her, and she felt it all the way to her toes. She sighed softly, then smiled at the camera and pressed the button. “Thanks.”

“Now one for me...to go with my collection.”

Her smile faded. “Collection?” she faltered, unsure what he meant by that but not liking the sound of it. Was Niall referring to a collection of women he’d been—?

“Pictures of you,” he added, as if he’d suddenly realized how she’d interpreted his statement. He whipped his iPhone out of his pocket to show her, scrolling through what appeared to be a dozen or more photos of her taken today. Candid shots, not posed, but each one clearly conveying her excitement at being there.

“When did you... How did you take these without my knowledge?”

“Because unlike you, I am good at taking pictures surreptitiously.” He drew her back against him, held the iPhone out and click! Then click again.

He held the phone for her to see without even looking at them himself. “Okay?”

The first picture was typical tourist fodder—they were both smiling at the camera, and in the background you could clearly see the Hall of Supreme Harmony. The second picture, the one she hadn’t been expecting and therefore wasn’t posing for, was troubling. Because she’d turned in that split second between the first and the second clicks, and was staring up at Niall with an expression that could easily be called...yearning.

She wanted to insist he delete that photo because it was too revealing, but she didn’t want to call attention to it, either. So she just nodded and handed him back the phone, then watched in silence for his reaction.

“Not bad,” he said judiciously, reviewing the first one. When he swiped a finger over the screen to view the second one, however, he said nothing at all. But his eyebrows twitched into a frown before he shut the phone down and pocketed it.

“Come on,” he said, grasping her hand and drawing her willy-nilly after him toward the northern end of the Forbidden City. “There’s still time to visit the Imperial Garden. I’ve heard the rockeries there are not to be missed.”

* * *

Savannah had signed up for one of the few optional side tours, the Peking opera, so Niall had, too. But unlike Savannah, whose gaze was fixed on the stage practically the entire night, Niall spent most of the evening watching her. Wondering if he wasn’t making a bad mistake.

The photo from this morning bothered him. A lot. It was one thing to become Savannah’s lover—which he had every intention of doing. It was another thing entirely to make her fall in love with him—which he had no intention of doing.

He had a healthy libido and an active sex life. He’d long since gotten over Francine, the one and only woman he’d ever asked to marry him, back when he’d been young and stupid enough to fall for a woman so shallow her only reaction to his being shot was disappointment that his body was no longer perfect. Back when he’d still been in the Marine Corps. He wasn’t carrying a torch for his “one true love” or anything like that—he’d said goodbye and good riddance in the same breath. And he wasn’t nursing a wounded heart, no matter what Savannah might have thought last night. He’d had nineteen years and a plethora of women to make sure of it.

He’d broken no hearts over the years because he’d never settled into a long-term relationship, which was just fine and dandy with him. He’d cared a couple of times more than the rest, but he’d never let himself fall in love again for one reason and one reason only: the job that meant more to him than anything.

Problem was, the woman sitting next to him didn’t know it. Didn’t know him. Didn’t know she’d been his target as recently as yesterday.

He’d never gotten involved before with a woman who didn’t know the score. Who didn’t know the rules of the game going in. Who didn’t know it was a game. Which meant he’d never spent time with anyone as naïve as Savannah.

He considered this carefully and concluded, yeah, that word applied to her. But there were other words that came to mind. Words he shied away from, because they only added to the guilt he was carrying over how he’d met her in the first place.

And if he wasn’t careful, he could hurt her. Badly.