Читать книгу Undercover Wife - Debra Webb - Страница 10

Two little words. I’m in.

Logan had stared at her for what felt like an eternity, something vaguely like regret in those dark eyes, before he turned to the guard and informed him that he’d be taking Erin with him. The guard had immediately removed her handcuffs as if the warden himself had given the order. Heart still pounding, palms still sweating, and a full twenty minutes later she settled into the back seat of a large black SUV parked outside the main prison entrance. Every second of those twenty minutes had ticked by one by one in Erin’s frantic mind. It didn’t seem possible that it was really happening, but it was. She was free to go with this stranger who’d shown up in the middle of the night.

Logan closed her door then slid into the passenger seat next to the SUV’s waiting driver.

“Airport?” the guy behind the wheel asked.

“Yeah.”

The driver glanced at her in the rearview mirror, his gaze brief yet assessing. She shivered beneath that swift scrutiny, but quickly forced the uneasiness away. She had to be strong. This was too important to allow fear to get in her way. She was out! Giddiness made her tremble. A few more feet and she would be clear of the last remaining barriers of incarceration.

The vehicle eased into forward motion, gaining speed as it rolled down the long drive. Erin held her breath as the massive prison gates opened and they passed through unimpeded. Relief so profound surged through her that she felt light-headed with the drugging effect of it.

Ten or so seconds later reality broadsided her. What had she agreed to do? Fear slithered up her spine, freezing the sweet sense of relief in her veins, as she considered that she was being driven into the darkness, toward the unknown, by two complete strangers. Twisting around in her seat, she stared at the gray prison walls and the security fence as they left both behind. A tiny seed of hope sprouted deep inside her at the realization that she was really leaving that awful place. This was not a dream, waking or sleeping. Whatever she’d signed on to do, it had started. She was out!

When the bright security lights were a dim glow in the distance she turned back to face front again. To face the consequences of the decision she’d made.

Gone was the prison garb she’d despised so. In its place she wore the jeans, T-shirt and sneakers she’d arrived in four months ago. The rest of her personal effects, ID, jewelry, pictures, etcetera, remained in a large padded envelope now in Logan’s possession. He’d told her she wouldn’t need them right now. A new thought occurred to her then. She chewed her lower lip as her anxiety spiked again. Had she traded one kind of prison for another? Where were they going? What would happen after they arrived?

“Why are we going to the airport?” Her voice sounded small in the oppressive silence. Surely they didn’t expect to keep the intended destination a secret from her at this point.

“We have a plane to catch,” Logan said without looking back at her. “That’s all you need to know right now.”

She opened her mouth to argue, but snapped it shut again. There was no point demanding answers when she knew he wouldn’t give them. The last thing she wanted to do was antagonize the man since her fate lay squarely in his hands. The prison had signed over responsibility of her to him. She was in his charge, at his mercy.

Just like with Jeff.

She shuddered inwardly at the flash of memories that accompanied that last thought. No. That wasn’t completely true. This man was nothing like her former fiancé. The information Logan had given her so far—paltry as it was—did appear to be the truth. He worked for the government, she was as certain as she could be of that. She’d seen his credentials and the jurisdiction paperwork when he’d signed for her release. No one at the prison—not even her, not really—had questioned anything. The idea of gaining her freedom once more had been far too tempting for her to think rationally.

But now those more rational thoughts wouldn’t abate. He’d said he needed her for a mission that involved national security. She would assume someone else’s identity. The mission was very dangerous. But what kind of expertise or experience could she offer this man or her country?

A new kind of stress churned inside her, turning her insides to ice, threatening to shatter her. She fought it. Hugged her arms around her middle and forced herself to remain calm, at least on the surface. She would have the answers she needed when the right time came. He’d assured her of that. There was no need for her to come unglued just yet.

She squared her shoulders and lifted her chin. Whatever it took to get her life back she would do it. She wasn’t the trusting little naïve fool she’d been two years ago. She’d learned the hard way not to trust anyone, most especially a man who put his work before all else. Her gaze went automatically to the back of John Logan’s dark head. A man like him, she knew instinctively. Well, she didn’t have to trust him in that way. And she definitely had no plans to get to know him intimately. This was a business deal. All she had to do was follow his instructions and she’d have her life back. She wanted that more than she wanted to take her next breath.

Whatever happened tomorrow, one thing was irrefutable—right now, this minute, she was free again.

That would have to be enough.

She’d gotten through the last four months one day at a time, she’d get through this the same way.

To her surprise, they didn’t go to Hartfield, Atlanta’s International Airport, as Erin had assumed they would. Instead the driver parked near a hangar at Atlanta’s favored alternate, PDK Airport. The plane, small jet actually, the kind corporate executives used, gleamed in the runway lights. She followed Logan and the driver in that direction. As far as she could see only one man waited nearby.

“We’re fueled and ready for flight,” the new man said to Logan. Almost as tall as Logan, he was older, but looked every bit as physically fit.

The pilot, Erin decided. Despite his rugged profile, he looked friendly enough. In her opinion, none of these guys really looked like secret agents. Well, except for Logan. He did have that aura of danger…a kind of sexy mystique. Then again, all she had to go by was what she’d seen in the movies. Probably not good examples, she decided.

Exhaustion and anxiety clawing at her frazzled nerves, she exhaled a loud, heavy breath. She hadn’t meant to, it just came out, igniting instead of releasing a tide of new anxiety. Logan and the driver from the SUV turned simultaneously and stared at her. Erin swallowed, trying her level best not to let those piercing stares undo her already flimsy bravado.

After a moment that lasted far too long, Logan turned his attention back to the pilot. “We’ll be ready in five.”

The man, pilot, whatever, nodded and headed toward the plane. The SUV driver, who was slighter and somewhat shorter in build than the other two, followed. She decided that he was of Latin descent, though his English was perfect and was spoken with no accent at all.

Erin felt Logan’s intense gaze on her long before she worked up the nerve to make eye contact. Unable to pretend not to notice any longer, she stiffened her spine and met that assessing gaze head-on. Whatever he expected of her she could do it, she told herself again. She had to do it.

“Last chance, Bailey. What’s it going to be? You still in?”

How could he think she’d back out now? She’d come this far. She sure as heck wasn’t returning to that prison. “Of course I’m still in,” she said sharply, though her voice sounded a little shaky and a lot hollow to her own ears.

That dark, dark gaze bored deeply into hers. For just a second Erin was sure she saw concern, or something on that order, then he banished it.

“All right. But don’t say I didn’t offer you an out.”

Before Erin could string together an appropriate retort, he turned and strode to the waiting jet. She blinked, suddenly uncertain of herself all over again. He’d given her one last chance to change her mind. She hadn’t taken it. Was that a mistake? If she boarded that plane would she ever see Atlanta again? Was her passion for freedom going to be a death wish in the end?

There was no one she could turn to. No one who even cared, or who would miss her when she was gone. Her parents had died years ago. She had no siblings. And Jeff, well, he’d been a total jerk. He sure wouldn’t miss her. The fact that she didn’t have any friends to call upon was no one’s fault but her own. She’d always been too busy with work. Work, work, work. That’s all she’d done since graduating college three years ago. Now look at her. Following a complete stranger to God knows where to do only the Devil knew what.

Erin Bailey, this is your life.

And it sucked.

Logan paused a few feet away from the open boarding door. “It’s the point of no return, Bailey. If you’re still a go, don’t look back because nothing about your life will ever be the same again.”

She couldn’t have replied even if she’d thought of something exceedingly witty to say. Her throat had closed with fear and a few other emotions she’d just as soon not analyze at the moment. In spite of it all, or maybe because of it, her feet moved her forward, toward the unknown. Toward this man who offered her everything and yet nothing at all.

He didn’t have to worry, she wouldn’t look back.

LESS THAN thirty minutes after liftoff from Atlanta’s PDK Airport, Erin Bailey was sleeping like a baby. That shouldn’t bother Logan, but it did. He’d seen the fear in her eyes the moment he offered her the deal. She’d hesitated, but the desire to have her freedom back was too great. She’d caved as readily as a sand-castle in the evening tide. Even the fact that he refused to answer her most elementary questions hadn’t dissuaded her for more than a fleeting moment.

He’d given her one last chance to change her mind before they boarded the aircraft and she’d refused. What happened from this point forward was no longer his responsibility.

Yeah, right.

Like he could change how he felt about the players or this mission. It was dangerous, even for a seasoned undercover field operative. For Erin Bailey it was a suicide mission. On some level she recognized that cold hard fact. He’d seen the truth in her eyes back there on that landing strip. But she’d reined in her fear and climbed aboard anyway.

She was made out of stronger stuff than he’d first given her credit. He’d ordered her to get some sleep as soon as they hit cruising altitude. She’d obeyed, probably more from exhaustion than motivation to please him.

The next six days would provide the rest of the story. There wasn’t time to teach her everything she needed to know. All Logan could hope for was to prevent a catastrophe by pushing her beyond all limits to see if she’d break. If she couldn’t tolerate the pressure, she would get them both killed and blow any future prospects of getting close to Esteban. Testing her mental and physical strength was Logan’s primary objective. He had to know just how much she could handle. Once she’d proven her ability to keep it together then he would give her an abbreviated course in illegal drugs and military weapons. It wasn’t necessary that she know as much as Jess had, but it was crucial that she appear knowledgeable.

One wrong word, one wrong move in Esteban’s or any of his people’s presence and she was dead.

Logan closed his eyes and leaned back in his seat. God, he didn’t want to do this, but there was simply no other way. Jess would do the same if she were still alive. It didn’t seem right that she was gone. They’d worked together for three years. She was the best partner he’d ever had. He opened his eyes and turned his head toward his new, temporary partner whose looks and advanced computer skills had gotten her into this predicament.

Erin Bailey was pretty and soft in a more feminine way than Jess had been. But Bailey would never be able to match Jess’s extraordinary skill as an operative—not in a week, not in three years, nor in a thousand. Bailey knew nothing of this life except the nonsense she’d likely seen in movies or read about in books. The life of an international spy was not nearly so glamorous and was far more dangerous than the entertainment industry portrayed it. If Bailey thought she was merely going to play a role in the latest James Bond film, she had a rude awakening coming.

She had no idea just how much danger she was in already and the mission hadn’t even begun.

DAWN WAS STREAKING its way across the horizon as Erin half stumbled off the plane. Her legs felt weak and rubbery. It was hard to believe she’d slept the entire flight. She scrubbed the last vestiges of sleep from her eyes and tried to focus on her new, unfamiliar surroundings. Distant mountains were surrounded by desertlike terrain that sprawled for as far as the eye could see in the purple hues of dawn. The air smelled different. Fresher, yet thinner somehow.

“Where…” she cleared her throat “…where are we?”

Logan, sans briefcase, slowed his pace only long enough to toss a glance over his shoulder. “Mexico. A few kilometers from San Cristobal.”

Frowning her confusion, Erin followed him to the waiting Jeep. Mexico? What was in Mexico? she wondered. The mission, obviously, judging by his brisk determination to get the show on the road. She glanced around once more. The area was desolate. No houses, not even a gas station. She tried to calculate how long they’d been in the air, but couldn’t since she wasn’t sure what time they’d left the prison. Four or five hours, she supposed.

Logan had awakened her a few minutes before the pilot had started the descent. He’d suggested she have some coffee and use the facilities since they were in for a long ride when they hit the ground. Erin had obediently complied. The coffee had been to die for. If Logan had made it, he was a true master. Sweet rolls had also been available, but Erin had opted not to start the day off with a sugar rush. Then again, she eyed the alien surroundings once more, maybe she should have. She climbed into the back seat of the Jeep and suddenly felt utterly empty. But she was pretty sure the emptiness had more to do with anxiety than hunger.

She was in deep trouble here. Was her freedom really worth coming to a foreign country to help in an unknown capacity on a very dangerous secret mission? She remembered quite clearly, he’d said very dangerous. What if these guys weren’t even government agents? What if the credentials were fakes? Fear mushroomed inside her, making her chest tight. Why hadn’t she thought of that before?

Well, it was a little late to be considering turning back now. Logan had said that once she boarded that plane there was no going back. Though she’d known him less than twenty-four hours, she had the distinct impression he didn’t say anything he didn’t mean.

Her heart thudded harder, sending a new rush of adrenaline through her. Running wasn’t an option. She surveyed the desolate area once more. They’d catch her easily and even if by some stroke of luck they didn’t, she’d never survive long enough to find her way to civilization. Camping skills had never been her strong suit. Her sense of direction was nonexistent and she didn’t have a clue how to locate water in the desert or how to ignite a fire by rubbing sticks together. She was a city girl through and through.

The man who’d driven the SUV swung behind the wheel of the Jeep. “Here we go, then,” he offered in a tone far too chipper for the occasion. Erin saw no levity whatsoever in the situation. She was likely going to die very soon and there was nothing she could do about it since she was still a prisoner with no rights—and these two men were her new guards.

Logan slid a pair of expensive-looking sunglasses into place and said something to the driver that she couldn’t quite hear over the noisy engine. The driver nodded and pressed a little harder on the accelerator. Clutching the seat to keep from bouncing out of the vehicle, Erin studied John Logan for the first time. She’d been too shocked when they initially met at the prison to give him more than a cursory once-over, then it had been dark in the SUV on the way to the airport. Promptly falling asleep in flight had been nice, but had left her no time to consider the man who now basically owned her soul.

He was handsome. She’d noticed that before. Morning stubble further darkened his chiseled jaw, adding to his aura of danger. His skin was deeply tanned. She wondered if he spent most of his time in this type of climate. With his shirt sleeves rolled up she could see well-muscled forearms indicating strength. He was tall. She’d guess in the neighborhood of six-one or -two. Lean frame. He didn’t say a lot, at least not to her. But when he did speak his voice was deep, resonate. Commanding, yet not harsh.

His hair was cut in one of those short styles where it swept up and back nicely without any help from designer mousse or styling gel. He had good hair. Silky, but full-bodied. She inclined her head for a better view of his broad shoulders. Wide and strong. Dependable yet—

He looked directly at her as if she’d spoken her thoughts aloud. Startled, she sucked in a harsh breath. He couldn’t have heard her, but he removed his shades and glanced down at her chest as if he had. His gaze lingered there, making her pulse react, before moving slowly back up to her face.

“Is there something on your mind, Bailey?”

She shook her head, then shouted over the wind and engine noise, “I’m fine.”

He stared at her for two beats longer before turning away. Erin closed her eyes then and released the breath she’d been holding. She would be stronger than this. No way could she let his every word and every look rattle her. She had to be ready for whatever this mission required of her. This was her only chance to get her life back. No matter how dangerous, she had to make it.

Going back to that prison was not an option.

“WHAT IS THIS PLACE?” Erin asked, her voice sounding oddly loud after the two-hour trip with nothing but the grind and growl of the Jeep’s engine.

The driver had parked the Jeep outside what looked like an ancient city, then disappeared inside its walls. Erin lifted an eyebrow in skepticism as she scanned the crumbling buildings once more. Ruins would be a more apt description than city. Her history and geography were a little rusty, but she recognized the architecture was far from contemporary in any sense of the word.

“Let’s go, Bailey.”

Startled, she looked around to find Logan waiting outside the Jeep for her. He offered his hand. Still stunned or maybe numb, she accepted, allowing him to help her down from the vehicle. His hand felt warm around hers. Warm and steady. Something she needed desperately at the moment.

“What is this place?” she asked again, her curiosity definitely piqued.

“For the next six days it’s home,” he told her without actually telling her anything at all.

When he would have started forward, she snagged him by the arm. His skin felt hot beneath her fingers. She quickly jerked her hand back and flexed her tingling fingers, struggling to remember what she’d intended to say.

“What now?” he groused, frowning down at her from behind those infernal glasses.

She dragged her gaze back to the village before them. That was it. The place looked like an ancient village fallen upon hard times, deserted by its people. “How did you find this place?” She looked back up at him for the good it did with those dark lenses shielding his eyes. “Is this where the mission takes place?” She shook her head then. “None of this makes any sense. I don’t understand.” She gestured vaguely to the village. “What does this have to do with national security?”

He removed the glasses, tucked them into his shirt pocket and leveled that dark as midnight gaze on her. “This is our temporary training post.” He nodded in the direction of the throng of mud huts and rustic stucco buildings. “The governor of Chiapas lent it to us because he owed my deputy director a favor. We have everything we need here. Now come on.” He urged her forward. “I’ll give you the grand tour. Then we’ll eat.” He glanced down at her, his eyebrow arched in clear skepticism this time. “You’re going to need your strength. Lesson one starts this afternoon.”

Erin followed Logan into what looked like a deserted building. A command post had been set up in the dilapidated chapel in the center of the village. Satellite communications—as well as older, less technically advanced radio-transmission systems—were in place. Two computers were up and running, linked to the Net. A massive generator provided the needed power.

There was what Logan called a mess hall and a physical training room. The bathing facilities weren’t glamorous, but they had hot running water, soap and shampoo. What more could a girl on a dangerous mission ask for? Might as well look on the bright side, she told herself, rallying her make-the-best-of-it spirit.

Six of the smaller buildings had been prepared for lodging, Logan explained as they approached the first one of the group. “This one,” he told her, “is yours.” Then he pointed to the hut directly in front of hers. “I’ll be there.”

She poked her head inside the room he’d indicated as hers and was pleasantly surprised by the small but comfortable-looking cot. “It’s better than I expected,” she admitted as she turned back to him. “I was certain there’d be a sleeping bag on the ground in there.” She tried for a smile, but didn’t quite make it. She was just too tired and this was all far too overwhelming to work up enough enthusiasm no matter how hard she wanted to.

But it’s real, she kept telling herself. And she was free. That’s all that mattered, right?

Erin glanced around at the dozen or so armed men moving about. Well, maybe free wasn’t precisely the right word.

“After I’ve evaluated your strengths and weaknesses, we’ll move on to the finer details you’ll need for this mission.”

Here she was, way down in Mexico, right next to Guatemala if memory served her correctly, and she hadn’t a clue why she was here. “Can you tell me more about the mission?” A girl could ask, she mused.

“This way, Bailey,” he offered in reply, smoothly changing the course of the conversation, as well as her little sight-seeing tour.

The next building they entered was one of the largest and very dimly lit. An oily smell she couldn’t readily identify hit her nostrils with the first breath she took. She squinted to better make out the boxes stacked around the room. Crates, she realized, wooden crates. Logan paused at the first one of three she counted. She peered inside. Instinctively she drew back at what she saw.

Guns. Lots of guns.

“M9 Personal Defense Weapon,” Logan announced as he displayed one of the mean-looking guns from the crate. “Weapon of choice in personal defense.”

“M4 Carbine,” he went on, putting the first one aside and reaching for another, seemingly oblivious to her appalled expression. “Lightweight, magazine fed, selective rate, shoulder fired weapon. Even in tight quarters, a target can be engaged at extended range with accurate, lethal fire. Every terrorist’s wet dream.”

“Wait!” Erin backed away another step, her heart beginning to hammer. “I don’t understand. Why are you telling me about these weapons?”

Tears welled unbidden. This was insane and what was worse she was going to cry. She hated crying. It made her feel weak. “I don’t know anything about guns or terrorists or even personal defense.” She lengthened the distance between them by another step, blinking furiously to hold back the infuriating tears. “Just tell me the truth, Logan. What am I doing here?” She flung her arm toward the weapons he appeared to gloat over. “What is all this?”

His glare was as lethal as the weapon he held in those strong, too capable hands. “This,” he ground out, “is just a taste of what you need to know.” He put down the weapon and started in her direction. She wanted to run, but froze instead. Those dark, dark eyes held her in a kind of trance. “You have six days, Bailey. Six days to learn what I have to teach you. And this is only scratching the surface. Then we go in, ready or not.”

She trembled. “What if…what if I can’t do it?” She couldn’t. She was suddenly as sure of it as she’d ever been of anything in her whole life. This was impossible. She couldn’t do this. Not for freedom, not for vengeance, not for anything.

Logan stopped mere inches from her, staring down at her with a face wiped clean of emotion. Her pulse thundered with the fear exploding inside her.

“Then you have six days to live,” he said quietly, so damned quietly she wanted to scream. “Because on the seventh, we’ll both be dead.”