Fatal Honor: Shadow Force International (28 page)

What else had he said it contained? A wire saw, a lock pick. She nearly banged her head against the seat. Of course. Why hadn’t she thought of that earlier?

Blame it on her fuzzy head. Charlotte fiddled with the charms, the lock, her cold fingers struggling with the catch. Suddenly, it popped open and she tried to catch it, but it fell to the muddy carpet.

She ran her fingers over the carpet, keeping her upper body still.
There
. She felt metal.

Like a blind person, she stroked the large center gold plate that read ‘Rock Star’ on it, then ran her fingers around the edge underneath.

The woman in charge of SFI was one smart cookie. The former NSA operative knew a thing or two about secret tools.

Around the inside edge of the bracelet, Charlotte’s fingers found the tiny, thin saw blade that popped out of the metal when she pushed on the charm. She’d seen similar tools hidden in rings and other jewelry that agents wore in case they found themselves in a situation like hers with plastic zip ties around their wrists.

Laying the bracelet down, she went to work sawing through the plastic.

“I know you’re awake, Carstons.” CB didn’t even bother to look in the rearview as he remained hunched over the steering wheel. “You can stop playing possum.”

Okay. So surprising him and strangling him might be out.

Sawing through the restraints wasn’t easy when she could only move her hands so far. Still, she sawed faster. “Why did you do it? Sell me out?”

“It wasn’t about you, Carstons. None of it. It was about getting to Blackwater.”

Nothing personal? Was that what he was saying? “You killed my mother, which destroyed my relationship with my father. You made MI6 believe I’m a traitor, and you killed the only man I’ve ever loved. But you’re saying it’s
nothing personal
?”

“Exactly.” He only had one hand on the wheel now. Probably had his other on a gun. “Your mother was an unfortunate accident that led to that situation with your dad. I tried, believe me, to talk sense into him about putting you in that institute, but he wouldn’t listen. It was serendipity that brought you to me as a fresh recruit for her majesty’s secret service. You have to admit, I turned you into one hell of a good spy. But the big picture here is Blackwater. Not you, not Bourean, certainly not some former SEAL with a hard-on for you.”

A part of her felt totally gutted by all of it, but especially by the idea that Miles was dead. Her stomach cramped and her head swam for a moment. “How did you find out about him?”

“You told me about the video footage and that you’d hid it. Once I knew Bourean had you, I went to the cabin looking for it. You forgot to mention that you’d saved one of the SEALs from that helo. I found the book with Duncan’s note in it so I did some digging. Sure enough, what do you know? One of the SEALs classified KIA was actually alive.”

“You did take my book. I knew it. I never saw the letter Miles left me.”

“Ah, jeez, that poor bastard. He really poured out his heart to you. Hard on a guy’s ego, you know, the way you up and left him without a goodbye. Such a wuss, confessing his love and leaving a contact number anyway, in case you changed your mind. Said he’d keep the cross around his neck until you came back to him. The man needs some balls.”

“He’s more of a man than you’ll ever be.”

“It wasn’t hard to put two and two together. You rescued the SEAL and he fell for you. But you knew your job wasn’t done. You had to go back to Bourean and try to find out who the terrorist was so you could stop him too. Your job came first, not that SEAL. I admired that in you.”

Miles was the only man she’d ever loved, and what had she done? Left him behind to finish her mission. She’d thought she was protecting him, allowing him to go back to his real life because life with her would never be marriage and family. Never be normal.

Yet, he was the only person she’d ever let herself feel anything for since her mother’s death. She should have never walked away. “You’ve never been in love, have you?” she asked quietly.

“Love?” The windshield wipers beat to the sound of his laughter. “No, I never have, and thank God for that. Duty, honor…those things are worth fighting for, Carstons. They mean something in the big picture. The only thing I’ve ever been in love with is my job—something I thought you, of all people, would understand. Soon, I’m going to look Blackwater in the eye and kill that bastard. My life will have meant something. The greater good will prevail. I’ll be a hero.”

Anger rallied. She’d known this type of betrayal in the mental hospital, this torrent of emotion overriding good sense. Someone she trusted had pulled the safety net out from under her. Someone she had believed in had taken her respect and squashed it under their foot like an insignificant bug.

Since the night her mother had died, she hadn’t put faith in anyone. She hadn’t trusted anyone enough to love them and believe they wouldn’t hurt her.

But she had respected this man, thought she understood him. She’d thought they were on the same side.

Funny thing was, they still were. They both still wanted to take down Nicolae Bourean and stop a terrorist at the same time. Only, Norris wanted her to sacrifice herself and everything she’d worked for and believed in, to help him do the job.

Her time in the mental hospital hadn’t been a total waste. She’d learned how to shut down the flood of emotions and be the good little soldier. Her time under Nico’s control had fine-tuned that. She knew better than anyone how to detach from pain and fear and never lose sight of her ultimate goal.

And her ultimate goal right now was to get back to Miles.

The zip tie snapped. Her hands were free.

“Look, Carstons.” CB turned a corner. “You want Bourean, I want Blackwater. I’ll make sure they both die. All I need is a little help from you.”

A little help, like sacrificing herself for the greater good. “What village is ahead?” she asked. The lights were closer now; they were almost there. She needed to calculate how far they’d come, how far she had to go to get back to the cabin.

“Village?” Norris met her gaze in the rearview for a moment. “This is no village.”

“What is it, then?”

“Don’t you recognize it? The castle beyond the gates?”

She squinted through the snow pelting against the windshield. “Should I?”

“It’s the compound. Bourean’s compound.”

Her chest seized for a moment. They’d come farther than she’d thought.

With a deep breath, she willed the sharp edge of her fear to recede.
No emotions. Only action
. “I do understand your commitment to stopping Blackwater, to making a difference in the world.” This was no longer about him selling her out to MI6. Oh no, this was much more personal. “So I know you’ll understand my commitment to helping you. I’m in.”

A flash of a grin showed in the rearview. “I had hoped you would come around.”

She returned his smile, rubbing her thumb over the Rock Star bracelet before sliding it back on.

Then, sending up a prayer to her Gypsy ancestors, she propelled herself forward and went for his jugular.

B
ACK
R
OADS
I
N
Romania were nothing to mess with. Especially in a winter blizzard.

Miles checked his watch’s coordinates again, the red beeping dot signaling he was near Jaxon’s meeting place. The mountain range and the snow had played havoc on the GPS system, but he’d taken a moment to hot wire the watch to the satellite phone and had been receiving a fairly steady signal since. He’d wanted to keep on Charlotte’s trail, but the reality was, he knew where her abductor was headed. What he needed before he busted into Bourean’s compound was a plan.

Bourean was smart enough to use a fortress that had stood for centuries, enduring wars and attacks from countless armies. Out by itself, the castle compound was still close enough to the city to support his business. Jax had found a spot that on a normal night would have offered the team the best vantage point. Unfortunately with the snow, visibility was slim to none.

Miles saw the meeting spot through the snow and pulled the Land Rover in next to a large cargo van. The van was totally kitted out with oversized tires, a lift kit, a satellite dish, push bar and spotlights.

Miles unhooked his watch from the sat phone and put it back on before securing the hood on his parka and pulling on gloves. Visibility might be low for them, but it was also nonexistent for security guards and cameras. They could use that to their advantage.

He knocked three times on the van’s set of double doors at the rear and was admitted by Jax. Jax and Miles did their normal handshake-slap on the back greeting and Miles surveyed the interior.

A surveillance and security computer hub was built into the van’s side, the desk littered with headphones, files, and blueprints. Morris “Moe” Bouchard was hunched over a computer screen, headphones on. Jax tapped his shoulder and Moe startled, looking up and giving Miles a nod. “Poison,” he said in greeting.

“Henley.” The two of them had worked together on the Savanna Bunkett case and were used to using each other’s Rock Star code names, although no one understood why the Brit-sounding operative had chosen the Eagle’s front man as his. Everyone knew the Eagles were country, not rock. “How ya doin’, man?”

“Freezin’ my arse off. You?”

“Been better.” His temple pounded and his side ached from his fight with the assassin. “We have to find missions in warmer places. I thought D.C. was bad. This is worse.”

“Second that, mate.”

Miles dropped into a chair near Moe and looked at Jax as he flipped his hood back. “Just the three of us, then?”

“Nah, man. Beatrice sent us a whole crew. A couple of newbies, but they’re solid.”

Moe leaned forward and grinned at the computer screen, slapping the desktop. “She’s in!”

“Who?” Miles studied the screen, seeing nothing but a lot of falling snow. “Charlotte?”

“Parker, mate. I freakin’ love her.”

“Parker Jeffries?” He cut his attention back to Jax. “Savanna’s sister?”

Jax shrugged, pouring a cup of steaming liquid from a thermos and handing it to Miles. “CIA, NSA, the girl’s got a resume longer than any of ours.”

“She’s an expert sniper,” Moe added. “Sneaky little minx, too.”

“She’s part of our team?” Miles was still trying to wrap his head around it as he accepted the cup from Jax. The scent of fresh coffee filled the air. “But she’s not SFI.”

“She is for now,” Jax said. “And she’s inside Bourean’s compound.”

Three knocks sounded on the van’s back door before it flew open. A man in full winter gear, including a ski mask, jumped in and slammed the door behind him.

Snowflakes skidded off his hood and coat and landed on the van floor. “Dirty ass weather out there, boys,” he said, flipping off his hood and peeling the ski mask up. “Ah, Duncan. Glad you made it.”

“Zeb?” Miles couldn’t contain his shock. The man was old enough to be his grandfather. He shot Jax another look. “Seriously?”

Zeb reached out in the close quarters and smacked Miles upside the head. “Show some respect, boy.”

“Ow.” The lump over his temple wasn’t ever going to go down at this rate. He set his cup down, the liquid untouched. “You’re part of this rescue team? You and Parker Jeffries.”

“Parker’s in,” Moe told Zeb. “Piece of cake.”

Zeb nodded to Moe, spoke to Miles. “Yes, Duncan. For your information, I’m in charge of this sad little team, so pull your panties out of their wad and deal.”

In charge? “
In charge?
”

Zeb shed his gloves, dug out a phone from inside his coat. “Your girl caused quite a distraction in front of the main gates. Gave Parker time to breach the southeast wall and get inside the compound.”

He punched the screen of his phone a couple of times and held it up for Miles to see. “This is her—Carstons—ain’t it?”

The photo was grainy but it made Miles’ heart drop into his stomach. A Jeep lay on its side, a couple of men—Bourean’s, no doubt—extracting two bodies from the interior. One body was a man in black clothes and a knit hat. The other was Charlotte.

“Is she…?”

“Alive?” Zeb grunted and flipped through a few more shots showing Bourean’s men hauling Charlotte and the man onto a couple of four-wheelers. “From all accounts, I’d say yes. My Romanian’s rusty and it was hard to hear the discussion over the wind, but sounded like she was breathing. Norris, too.”

“Norris? Wait. CB Norris, her handler?”

“You know the guy?”

“No, but I take it you do.”

Zeb grabbed Miles’ cup and downed the coffee, then wiped his mouth off with the back of his hand. “We brushed shoulders back in the day. He was CIA until he rubbed their noses in their own shit and they kicked him out. Guy’s cagey but damn smart. Obsessive, too. Give him an assignment and he locks onto it like a gater on fresh meat. He likes hunting people, and once he knows his target, he’ll use anyone he has to in order to get to that target and take it out. But I’ll tell you boys something. If Norris had been in charge before 9/11, those towers would still be standing.”