72 Hours (6 page)

“Affirmative. The angle didn’t allow me to see who got in it, though.”

“Go back and see how far you can track it.”

“Any activity on the boat?”

Alex shook his head. He’d been watching the live surveillance feed on the laptop in the bedroom and there had been nothing. No armed men, no black Civic and no Danny. “The boat’s just for the meet, I guess.”

Carmen slid into the room, tucking both the hotel code key and the
extra
card—another layer of security programmed by Gallagher—into her considerable cleavage. “I hate bar duty.”

“But you’re so good at it,” Gallagher said. “Learn anything?”

“I’ve got the name of a down-on-his-luck charter boat captain who’s suddenly buying rounds at every bar on the island, and the info on his boat.”

“Bingo. Let’s run him down.” Alex nodded his head toward the silver case. “I heard from…Devlin, and the pharmaceutical company isn’t happy we’re holding their poison.”

“I’m not really thrilled with it, either,” Carmen said.

“We’re not giving it back until we know how it’s connected to Danny,” Grace said.

“We don’t even know
if
it’s connected.”

“Come on, Carmen. Like Alex said before, the timing can’t be a coincidence. My son being kidnapped has something to do with that damn briefcase, and it’s not going anywhere until I have Danny back.”

Carmen narrowed her eyes. “You and I have been friends a long time, Grace, but this isn’t your call. Even if you were still with the Group, there’s no chance in hell of your being objective.”

“As long as there’s even a chance the kidnappers are—”

“Carmen’s right,” Alex interrupted. Not only because he was in charge, but he knew Carmen was one of Grace’s few friends, and he didn’t want something said that couldn’t be taken back. “You can’t be objective.”

“Objective? Danny’s my
son
. And maybe that doesn’t mean shit to anybody else, but it means everything to me.”

Alex felt a chill spread through his body. “Are you implying I’d sacrifice my son to fulfill a contract?”

“I
know
what you’d sacrifice to fulfill a contract. Do you want to see the scar?”

He tried to remind himself she was emotionally distraught. He told himself they’d be hashing it all out when the mission was over and Danny was safe. But it wasn’t working. He was going to strangle her well before the mission was over.

“You wanna do this now? In the bedroom.” She started to speak, but he shook his head. “Get your ass in the bedroom or I’ll throw you over my shoulder and carry you there.”

* * *

Grace walked into the bedroom with as much dignity as she could muster, but she was trembling with rage and indignation. And fear. Not fear of Alex, but the breath-stealing fear for her son that was now her constant companion.

The arrogant son of a bitch could say whatever he wanted, but she wasn’t letting them give back the biotoxin until Danny was safe. He’d poured himself a drink to carry in with him, and she sat on the edge of the bed and watched him sip from it. She wasn’t going to open the conversation. If he wanted to talk, he could damn well talk.

“How could you keep my son from me?”

It wasn’t the question she’d expected, but fine. If he wanted to do this now, then they’d do it. “Do you know when I found out I was pregnant?”

“How would I, since I didn’t know you
were
pregnant?”

“They did a screening before I went in for surgery in the hospital. I learned I was carrying your child while being treated for the gunshot wound
you
gave me.”

“I pay for that by never knowing I have a son?”

Grace thought of the seconds before Alex’s bullet tore through her shoulder—the way his eyes went so flat and cold. He had been ready to do whatever it took to attain his objective.

Alex knocked back the last of his drink. “I would have explained myself if you hadn’t transferred to a different hospital without telling anybody where you went.”

“What’s to explain? You wanted Ricardo Escobar dead, and you were willing to sacrifice me to kill him.”

The blood drained from Alex’s face, and she got a sick feeling in the pit of her stomach.

“Is that what you believe?” he demanded. “Have you truly believed that all these years? You think I would kill you just to take out a second-rate criminal?”

“I…” She looked down at the carpet. Now, seeing his face, she was too ashamed to admit it.

“So you think I can’t be a father because I’m a heartless bastard willing to sacrifice my loved ones for my job?”

Loved ones
. She swallowed hard and tried to shove the words away. It was just a handy phrase.

“Do you want to hear the truth?” he asked, “or do you prefer to cling to your hate and misperceptions?”

“Misperceptions?” Her voice rose, but it was either yell or slap him upside the head. “What exactly is there to misperceive? Escobar was standing behind me, using me as a shield, and you shot through me to get to him.”

“And the knife, Grace?” Alex asked in a deceptively calm voice.

Knife? She didn’t remember a knife. She remembered guns. Threats shouted in English, Italian, and Spanish. Smoke. The acrid scent of Ricardo’s fear. But no knife.

“Yes, there was a knife,” he said, no doubt reading her face—something he’d always done better than she liked. “A very wicked-looking hunting knife. He was preparing to stick it in the area of your kidney. You were expecting to be shot, and he wanted me to see your face when the knife slid into your vital organs. I watched his eyes, Grace, and you were about to die. That shot was the
only
way I could stop him from killing you.”

“I…didn’t know.” It was lame, but the only thing she could think to say.

“It’s all slow-motion in my nightmares, Grace. As soon as I saw the knife he started to smile. And I couldn’t have told you all the thoughts that went through my mind at the time I made the decision to shoot through your shoulder into his heart. But now, late in the night, I can tell you all of them. Would you move? Were my hands shaking? The fire was getting hotter and I’d have to move you and what if you bled out while I was carrying you to the car? The only thing I knew for sure is that you were definitely going to die if I hesitated.”

He stopped and swallowed hard. “God, Grace, I
loved
you.”

She pulled her heels up onto the bed so she could wrap her arms around her legs, rest her forehead on her knees and sob. She’d never heard pain in his voice like that—never heard the ragged hurt when he spoke. And now she would never forget it.

“When that job was over I was going home to get my mother’s ring. I planned to take you to Italy and ask you to be my wife. Instead I had to put a bullet in you, and I’ll be
damned
if I’m going to apologize to you for it. Don’t you
ever
throw that in my face again.”

The door slammed a moment later, and Grace crumpled sideways on the bed. Her shoulders heaved and she pressed her face into the comforter to muffle her crying. Everything she’d been trying to hold in crashed down on her and it was a long time before she could roll onto her back and take a deep, shuddering breath.

If she had only agreed to see him one time before disappearing from his life, they could have had this discussion while there was still chance. Or if she’d talked to Sean, maybe it would have made its way to Alex and…

And nothing. Whether he had any other option but to shoot her or not, nothing changed the fact that his life was too dangerous for her son. The Devlin Group was the reason her son wasn’t safe at home right now, and when they found him, she and Danny were gone. She’d take him so far under her past would never catch up with them again.

“Hey!”

She jerked awake, stunned to find she’d fallen asleep. She heard Gallagher’s shout from the living room and flew off the bed. Only when she stumbled and had to grab the dresser to right herself did she realize she’d fallen asleep.
For how long?
She pulled up the hem of her T-shirt and swiped at her face as she ran to the door.

“We got him,” Gallagher yelled. He had to mean Danny.

Alex was already leaning over Gallagher’s shoulder and he didn’t look up when she stood behind beside him to peer at the screen.

“You have satellite face recognition technology?” she asked.

“You’ve been playing with the boys who answer to budget committees for too long, Grace.” Gallagher zoomed in, clicked, then repeated it. “I tracked the car from the airport to the boat to the island, then real-timed it. Is that our boy?”

Her breath caught in her throat. It was. She leaned over and touched a finger to her little boy’s face on the screen.
He’s alive
. “When was this taken?”

“Four and a half minutes ago. Your son should be finishing up in the outhouse right about now.”

Grace stood upright and tried to take a deep breath, but it caught in her chest and she held the back of the chair to keep from hitting the floor. Danny was alive. Alive and unharmed. Tears coursed down her cheeks and she had to concentrate on every breath to keep from hyperventilating.

The trembling robbed her muscles of strength, but she stayed on her feet. He was alive, and the people around her right now were the best in the business. They’d get him back.

Her focus sharpened as some of the maternal desperation eased in her chest. She embraced the single-mindedness that had always overtaken her before a mission. Time to put Mommy in the closet and kick some ass.

“Zoom out,” she said. “What’s the situation?”

“Island off the Keys. Pretty well uncharted, so to speak. A shack…some outbuildings. Trees. And at quick count, a dozen well-armed guards.”

Alex folded his arms and watched Gallagher’s fingers flying over the keyboard. “Work your mission-planning magic, my friend.”

“Get the other laptop fired up. I want topo and meteorological maps for a ten mile radius.”

Grace gnawed at the side of her thumbnail, turning the scenario over and over in her mind. “There’s no way to get on that island without being made. They could…kill him before we can get to him.”

“Remember that convo we had on the beach?” Gallagher asked without looking up.

“Yeah, but—”

“Then let me work.”

The clock seemed to count off endless minutes while Gallagher alternated between running through the computers and just staring at them, thinking. Occasionally he’d mutter something to himself or shake his head.

“A black helo with active noise control,” he finally said.

“A stealth helicopter?” Grace said, looking to Alex. “Can we get one of those?”

He nodded. “Yeah. It’ll take a little time, though, to…for Devlin to pull the strings, and flight time.”

Gallagher nodded. “We’ll still be well within the time limit. Grace, can you fly that bird?”

“No. A Bell, yeah. Running a forty-million-dollar craft silent and dark by computer feed? No.”

“Shit.” Gallagher pondered the problem for a minute before shaking his head. “Let me think for a minute. One of us has to stay with the biotoxin over there.”

“I’m going in for Danny,” Grace snapped, just so everybody knew where she stood.

All three agents tried to stare her down, but she held her ground. “I’m good. If I wasn’t good to go, I wouldn’t.”

“I don’t like it,” Alex countered, and Grace wasn’t surprised. “You’re too emotional. Look how you botched taking me down.”

That was dirty pool. “I didn’t know if my son was dead or alive then, and I doubt the guys on that island are going to distract me by dropping their pants.”

“I don’t care. Let’s get Tony in here.”

“Tony’s deep under,” Carmen reminded him. “Pulling blows eight months of work.”

“Somebody else. Pull up the roster.”

“Hold on.” Gallagher held up a hand.

“No,” Alex snapped. “Hold nothing. She’s not active in this.”

“Dude, you questioning my mission mojo?”

Gallagher’s tone and posture were casual, but his eyes were fierce and Grace figured the best thing she could do was shut her mouth and let them have it out.

“No,” Alex bit out. “But why don’t you tell me why we should take an emotional housewife on a high-risk mission to save a child’s life?”

Grace’s fist shot out and hit him in the diaphragm. Alex doubled-over, gasping for breath. “That’s domestic engineer to you, asshole.”

“Nothing wrong with her reflexes,” Carmen said, before fleeing to the bathroom to hide her laughter from her team leader.

Grace didn’t speak Italian, but she knew the words Alex was muttering weren’t flattering. She didn’t care.

Gallagher raised an eyebrow at her, and then looked back to Alex. “I’ll tell you why Grace should go. One—she’s still got it. She one-upped Rustikov, and if not for you guys having a history, she’d have taken you, too.”

Alex snarled at him, but didn’t say anything. Grace felt heat climbing her neck. She still couldn’t believe she’d fallen for that.