Holding Out For A Hero: SEALs, Soldiers, Spies, Cops, FBI Agents and Rangers (145 page)

He clutched the steering wheel tightly.

Right at this moment, he wished he could inflict as much pain on her as she'd caused him—in the past, and over the weeks, months, maybe years, ahead while he tried to recover from loving Angel all over again.

* * *

Angel stepped into the large office complex and signed in at reception.

"Must be pretty dedicated," the guard said, smiling as he checked her employee identification. "You wouldn't catch me in here on a Sunday night if I had a choice."

She returned the smile, quelling the nervous flutters in her abdomen. He's just being friendly, she told herself, not trying to dig for information. "I've got to set up for a meeting first thing in the morning and I'm terrible at getting in early. I'll sleep better knowing everything's ready to go."

He shook his head. "Dedicated. That's what I call it."

He signed his name beside hers and wrote down the time under the 'In' column. She didn't like the fact there'd be a record of her time here, but there was no way around it. If all went well, there was no reason anyone should suspect a thing. The guard switched on the elevator for her.

"The hall lights'll be on up there, but not the office lights. You know where the switches are?"

"Yes, just inside the door. Thanks."

"Okay. Don't work too hard," he advised as he turned away and sauntered back to the reception desk.

She did some deep breathing exercises as the elevator crawled to her destination. Well, if she had to skulk around the office, at least late on a Sunday was the perfect time, giving very little chance of anyone catching her.

The elevator doors finally slid open and she wandered down the dimly lit corridor to Carlos' offices. Her key opened the outer door, giving her access to the main offices. All were cubicles except her own office, which had a door but no lock. She closed the door behind her, then flicked the lights on and hurried down the hall to Carlos' door, scanning the cubicles for any sign of human presence. No light spilled out from under his door, so she slid her copy of his key into the lock. Pushing the door open slowly, she peered inside cautiously, then swiftly stepped inside and switched his brass desk light on before returning to close the door.

She walked over to the credenza, which she knew Carlos didn't lock. The files kept here held nothing hinting at the type of illegal activities that went on. Why Frank wanted these files, she didn't know. Probably to do some cross-checking with other information he'd gleaned along the way, such as dates of deliveries or contact names. It wouldn't be suspicious for her to be scanning these files. The problem was being in his office after hours without a good reason.

She opened her purse and snatched out the list Frank had given her, then yanked the corresponding files out of the large drawer. With manila folders in hand, she hurried to the door and pulled it open a crack. No one was in sight so she slipped out and headed for the photocopy machine in the far corner of the office, in a cubicle set aside for the purpose. She plucked out the staple in the first document with a staple remover and fed it into the document tray. She jabbed the green 'Start' button, then tapped her foot impatiently as letters lit up telling her the machine had to warm up and to 'Please wait'.

It's okay for you, you stupid machine. You're not the one with a raging current of adrenaline flooding through your veins.

She heard a click and stifled a gasp as she realized someone had just opened the main office door. She stood unmoving, careful not to make a sound, praying the darn machine wouldn't start up before whoever it was went away.

"Miss Tortina? It's Ernie from security. You in here?"

She let out the breath she'd been holding. Fixing a pleasant smile on her face, she popped her head around the blue cubicle divider to see him walking slowly down the aisle, peering into the empty work areas as he went.

"Hi, there," she said brightly. "I was just doing some copying. You know how these meeting are. Everyone needs a copy. So much paper wasted at these things. Probably half of them wind up in the recycle bin." She knew she was nattering, but couldn't help herself.

"Sure. Say, you okay? You look kinda flushed."

Her hand fluttered to her cheek. "Yes, I…" She laughed nervously. "You startled me is all. You know, being in the office when it's so quiet and all… sort of spooked me."

Why had he come to check on her? Usually the guards could care less as long as she had the proper identification. The building housed offices for a dozen or more different companies and building security's main concern was that only appropriate employees got into the building. Any security beyond that was the responsibility of each company.

"Sorry. Didn't mean to. Anyway, I was just wondering if you'd be much longer? I'm about to go off duty and I thought we could grab a coffee or something. Or maybe I could give you a lift somewhere?"

She almost laughed out loud in relief. The man wasn't interested in anything beyond picking her up. The copy machine started and she heard the hum and sputter of the document being processed through it.

"No, thanks anyway. My husband is waiting for me and…"

"Oh. I didn't realize. Your security card doesn't list a husband as an emergency contact so… Well, you can't blame a guy for trying."

"My card? Oh, yes. I got married a few weeks ago and I guess I forgot to update it."

"Okay, well. Good night, ma'am. I probably won't see you on the way out."

"Good night, Ernie." She smiled as he went out the door. Once the door closed, she sighed in relief, then hurried back to the photocopier. Grabbing the copy out of the hopper and stuffing it on the table beside the file folders, she switched the original with the next to be copied. Performing the repetitive steps of copying lulled her into a calmer state. The green light flashed as the machine copied each page and the systematic humming and whooshing of paper traveling through the mechanism soothed her frazzled nerves.

This wasn't as bad as she thought it would be, she decided as she closed the fourth folder and reached for the fifth. She had just finished loading the second document from the stack when she heard the click of the door again.

She pressed the square green button and stepped out of the cubicle as she said, "Ernie, you back again?"

But the threatening figure facing her in the hall was not Ernie.

"Dino? What… what are you doing here?" She felt her pulse accelerate and her knees go weak.

"I think a better question is what you're doing here, Angie. What's the matter? Hubby not keeping you busy enough at home?" He strode toward her.

"I… I had some work to do before tomorrow, I—"

He pushed past her and snatched the top page from the copy bin. His gaze flicked over it, then he glanced at the stack of folders on the table. Fanning them out on the table top, he read the file headers on the index flaps, then glared at her. "You shouldn't be here, Angie. And you shouldn't be going through Carlos' files."

"Dino, you don't know—"

His hand sliced through the air. "Don't gimme that. I told you I knew something was going on and I intended to find out what it was. You didn't really think you could waltz in here unnoticed on a Sunday night, did you? The guard called me as soon as you climbed onto the elevator."

So good old Ernie hadn't really been after a date, just ensuring she was here… and would stay here until Dino arrived.

"Dino, I told you, I have some work—"

"Shut up," he snapped. "If you haven't done anything wrong, then you won't mind waiting while I call Carlos. If he knows about this," he tapped the stack of copies, "then you're off the hook. Right, Angie?"

He flung his hand out to grab her. Knowing if he called Carlos she'd be a dead woman, she snatched her arm away before he could close his hand around it. She lunged for the cubicle opening.

She got three quarters of the way down the aisle before he tackled her, sending her slamming into the door. His momentum crushed her against the wood. The breath puffed out of her, leaving her winded for a moment.

When he twisted her around to face him, she brought her knee up sharply, connecting with his groin. He doubled over and she lurched past him. He managed to grab her foot, sending her off balance. As she fell, she saw the surface of the receptionist's desk rising to meet her, then felt a sharp, cracking pain in her head.

* * *

From deep within the darkness she heard a tapping sound. It became a beacon in the black night that engulfed her. She focused on it and reached toward it through the fog.

"Frank?" she murmured weakly.

"He's not going to help you now."

The voice was masculine, and familiar, but it wasn't Frank's. She opened her eyes and tried to lift her head, but the action cost her too much in pain. It slashed through her head like a sharp knife. She slumped back, groaning. Taking a deep breath, she tried again. Through the haze of agony, she saw a face and tried to focus on it. The features crystallized just enough so she could identify him.

"Dino, what are you doing here?"

He stared at her. As the scene before her slowly clarified, she realized he held a gun. His eyes, fixed on her, were no longer the charming brown eyes meant to win a woman's heart. They were the eyes of a killer.

The evening's events jolted through her brain and her eyes widened.

"So, Angie, you're awake," he said, then leaned toward her. "Or should I say, Cindy?"

She forced down the panic that threatened to consume her, and responded in carefully controlled confusion. "Cindy? What are you talking about?" Gingerly, she touched the side of her head where she'd connected with the desk, wincing at the feel of dried blood in her hair. "I thought I was the one who got hit on the head, not you."

"Can it!" he snapped. "I know all about you. You've never been part of the family. You've been working against us all along." His tone crackled with dark menace. Hazily, she realized she was back at her own townhouse, lying on her own couch and Dino sat in the armchair across from her. Why had Dino brought her here? Ignoring the blistering complaints blazing through her head, she jerked upright to a sitting position.

My God, she thought. Where was Frank? Was he okay? Somehow she had to warn him. If it wasn't too late. The thought sent a shiver of terror through her.

How much did they know?

As though in answer to her unspoken question, a voice dragged her attention to the door.

Frank's voice.

"They know all about us, Angel," he said, his expression grim.

Why didn't she feel relief seeing him there holding a gun? He had the superior position with Dino turned away from him and no one else in the room. Dino didn't lower his own gun and seemed totally unsurprised by Frank's arrival. What was going on?

Frank continued talking in a monotone.

"They know you've always worked for the Feds and have been under deep cover for the past ten years. They know I married you to set up a cover to break the Vendetti case."

"Frank! How did they find out?"

Dino started to chuckle and Frank laughed along with him. The sound sent chills through her, right to the hollow of her bones.

"I told them, baby," Frank answered, his face drawn into a cruel smile.

"What?" No, this couldn't be true. What was Frank up to? "Why would you do that?" Her voice was a mere whisper.

He turned and paced across the room. "I'm tired of working as an undercover cop, taking all kinds of chances and making peanuts. It's as simple as that. I'm in as much danger as these guys," he said, waving a hand in Dino's direction, "but with a fraction of the payoff. I figured if I gave them something they wanted I could get a piece of the action." He stared at her, his eyes glinting coldly in the lamplight. "So I gave them you." His face went dead serious. "Vendetti's offered me a huge bonus, and with some of the other skills I can put to use for him…" He shrugged. "It was worth taking a few losses," he said as his gaze slid over her.

Dino cocked his gun at her, looking down the sights. "And with you out of the way, he can continue to pretend he's working for the Feds. He'll be able to provide us with some very useful inside information."

She dragged her attention away from Dino's gun and back to Frank. The coldness of his expression added to the growing coldness in her gut.

Could the appeal of money be so strong? No, she couldn't believe that about Frank. She knew his sense of ethics and family loyalties were stronger than that. And… and she really couldn't believe he'd do this to her. He'd told her he loved her. And she'd believed him.

Of course, neither of those things made it true.

He'd worked undercover before. In fact, how did she know any of what he'd told her was true? All she knew about his family and background was what he'd told her. When an agent was undercover, he had to be able to manufacture a background, and he had to be a good actor. What did she really know about him? He'd told her a completely different story four years ago and she had believed him then as easily as now.

Even if he had loved her as much as she believed, without meaning to she had dealt him a terrible blow. He thought she'd turned her back on him and… it must have been as if she'd betrayed him all over again. Over these past couple of weeks, he'd acted as if he couldn't stand the sight of her. Could his love have turned to hate?

"What are you going to do with me?" she asked, watching him, trying to judge his expression.

"Grow up, Angel. What do you think?" Frank muttered.

No, he couldn't really mean to kill her. She focused on Dino's gun, which was pointed at her. She took a deep breath, preparing herself. Good Lord, this couldn't really be happening.

"Don't worry, baby. We're not going to do it now. Dino, put that down. You're making our… guest nervous."

Reluctantly, Dino lowered the weapon.

"Frank. How can you do this? After all we've…"

He strode over to her and clamped his hand around her jaw. She searched his eyes for any sign of caring, or softness… any sign that this was just a scam for Dino's benefit. That's what it had to be, she knew. For some reason, he felt this was necessary. But both his expression and his grip were hard and uncompromising.