Love & Deception (Agents in Love - Book 1) (42 page)

“I have the bracelet,” Nick replied. “How do
we make the trade?”

“Fly yourself to Phoenix, Arizona and then
call me,” Paul said. “This will be a multi-step operation.”

He expected that. Paul wouldn’t be stupid
enough to tell Nick where he was. “It’s going to take a little
time.” Especially since he needed to come up with a plan. The boss
had gone completely off the rails. Nick no longer believed the
President or board members of S.A.T.O. sanctioned the mission.

Things had seemed strange from the
beginning, but now nothing was adding up. Between the fire and the
race to keep Carlie alive and hidden, Nick hadn’t thought about it,
but the entire situation was off. Paul no longer acted like the man
Nick had always known him to be. He was acting like a criminal.

“Does the President know where you are?”

Paul scoffed. “You were once a good agent,
Nick, but way too easy to manipulate. We haven’t been working for
the President for a long time. Get your ass to Phoenix. This job
has already taken too long since I had to string you along to get
you to do what I needed.”

Anger turned like lava in Nick’s gut. Who
the hell had they been working for? He squeezed his hand into a
fist and took deep breaths. “I’ll expect to talk to Carlie the next
time you call. If I don’t hear from her, you’ll never get the
bracelet.”

“Don’t try to be sly, Nick. You can’t outwit
me.”

“And don’t you test me. If she can’t speak
with me every time you call from here on out I’ll assume she’s
dead. Whatever this bracelet actually means, Carlie staying alive
is your only chance of getting it.”

Nick hung up without giving Paul a chance to
respond. He set the phone on the desk with exaggerated care. What
he really wanted to do was break out of control and beat the shit
out of something—more like
someone
.

Drawing on all his training, Nick forced
himself to find his center and meditate, focusing his thoughts and
calming his anger. He needed to think clearly to save Carlie’s
life. Anger was his enemy.

Knowing he hadn’t been actually working for
the government wasn’t as much of a shock as Nick expected. Deep
down, he always wondered if Paul was lying, ever since he sent
orders to kill Jason Steele and then cut off Nick’s communication
with the other agents.

After his meditations were complete, Nick
glanced at the address book, a plan forming now that his mind was
clear. Perhaps he wasn’t in this alone. There might be someone who
would help him.

Carlie’s eyes felt glued shut and her mouth
tasted like she’d sucked on pennies. Struggling against her nausea,
she forced her eyes open. The white walls around her put her in
mind of a psychiatric hospital, though they weren’t padded. Nothing
hung on them and fluorescent lights made the room too bright.

“Is she still asleep?” A male voice,
familiar.

Carlie realized it was Terrance, and then
remembered what happened. She was captive.

“Last time I checked she was,” a female
answered. “Still breathing, thank God. I think your drug needs more
work. You’re going to kill someone.”

Carlie froze, holding her breath as she
struggled to hear whatever else was said. She knew that voice.

Terrance laughed. “Sometimes the boss
doesn’t want ‘em to keep breathing.”

“Maybe the boss doesn’t, but the President
might have a different opinion.”

Carlie shifted on the small cot, trying to
get a better view of the room behind her head. A metal door with a
small window in it dominated the far wall. Terrance’s face was
visible through the small opening, but he stared at the other
person in the hallway with him, not in at Carlie.

He turned slightly, and she quickly closed
her eyes, not wanting them to know she’d woken up.

“If you know what’s good for you,” Terrance
said, “you won’t question Paul or the President. Stick to your job.
Why don’t you go wake her up? The MG-37 should have worn off by
now. I’ll be back to check on you later.”

The sound of his hard boots clomped down the
hallway, fading out, and the door creaked open. Carlie tried to
keep her breathing even and feign sleep, but couldn’t control her
nerves. How could she have so completely trusted the wrong
person?

“Carlie?”

The scent of Obsession perfume washed over
her as the woman kneeled, leaving no doubt as to her captor’s
identity.

The woman shook her shoulder gently. “Can
you wake up a little?”

Without opening her eyes, Carlie whispered,
“How could you?” She sat up quickly, feeling a little woozy and
swallowing down bile as she glared into Shelley’s bright blue eyes.
“Did you start the fire at the shop, or just help Paul find me
after I called? I trusted you!”

“Don’t talk to me like that. Terrorists
don’t get to act outraged when they get caught.” Shelley stood and
crossed her arms beneath her breasts. “I actually thought you were
innocent for a while. I bought into that poor Princess Stephanie
bullshit! I thought we were friends. I can’t believe you tricked me
like that!”

Carlie sighed. “So, Paul’s still lying to
you, huh? At least you don’t want to kill me because some criminal
is paying you to. That’s some comfort.”

Her eyes narrowed. “What are you talking
about?”

“The ‘Princess Stephanie bullshit,’” Carlie
said, making air quotes, and Shelley gasped, “is one-hundred
percent true. Your boss, however, must have decided to help the
assassins after me. Your pal out there, Terrance, wanted to take me
alive for the person paying for this job, but from what he said,
I’m not going to stay that way long.”

Shelley shook her head. “You’re lying.
There’s no way Paul works for assassins. He’s against crime and
terrorists, and you were going to do damage with your bracelet. I
can’t let you do that.”

“My bracelet?” Carlie remembered how
interested Nick had been in Gabi’s bracelet. Did Shelley really
think it was some sort of terrorist device?

“Never mind,” Shelley said. “You aren’t
capable of anything but lies, and I don’t want to hear them.”

If she didn’t always act so tough, Carlie
might think Shelley actually had her feelings hurt. She acted like
she was the one who’d been betrayed, instead of Carlie.

“I’m not lying, Shelley, but I have no way
to convince you.” She shrugged. “Nick took me away from Sayle
because he figured out I was telling the truth. You might think
about that before you help them kill me.”

Shelley looked at the ground, eyebrows drawn
together. Carlie hoped that meant she was at least thinking about
it. Maybe Shelley could still be an ally if she realized the truth.
Obviously she thought she worked for the good guys, but Carlie felt
certain Paul answered to someone other than the United States
government.

“I’ll bring you some water,” Shelley finally
said. “I’ve heard MG-37 leaves a horrible taste in your mouth.” She
left the room but quickly returned with bottled water.

Carlie was thankful it was a sealed bottle
and likely safe to drink, because as soon as Shelley mentioned
water thirst overtook her. She uncapped it and downed half of it at
once. “Thank you.”

“I’m just following orders.”

She left the room again, and this time the
sound of a dead bolt sliding in place echoed through the small
room.

***

Nick stared at his cell phone while waiting
for his plane to board, torn about what to do. Before leaving the
lake house, he programmed the safe number into his phone. Now, he
wondered if calling it would do any good. Maybe it wasn’t even
connected anymore.

Back when he first signed onto the agency,
the President at that time met personally with the agents. He told
Nick if he ever needed anything to call that number. Would it still
work? Or worse, did it direct to someone who would report the call
to Paul?

Then again, Nick had a feeling his and
Carlie’s lives were forfeit whether or not he tried to find help.
Maybe something could be done to help save her—someone on the line
who could offer assistance.

He pushed send and held his breath while
waiting to see if the call connected.

The phone never rang, but a mechanical voice
came on the line. “If you called this number looking for the safe
line, and you are a member of a certain group that lost contact
with us, please leave your real name and a number where we can
reach you. We will call back shortly.”

Nick hesitated as the tone sounded for the
answering machine. He hoped he was doing the right thing, but the
oddly-worded message seemed to indicate the safe number was still
operational. “My name is Nick Kendall, but I was formerly Stewart
Farnes. I’m in a bit of trouble, as I think the boss has turned to
criminal activity. He’s holding an innocent woman hostage.” Nick
sighed and stared at his watch. “I’m boarding a plane in ten
minutes, but my flight lands in Phoenix around four their time.” He
checked his boarding pass. “Delta Air, flight 7170. Then I’m
supposed to call the boss. I need help.”

He left his number and disconnected the
call, just as the announcement for early boarding came over the
loud speaker in the airport.

All he could do was hope that number didn’t
connect directly to Paul and his message made it to the board of
S.A.T.O.—and then hope they weren’t all corrupted. So many things
could go wrong, and Carlie was the one who would suffer if Nick
made the wrong choices.

He stuffed his hand into his pants pocket
and closed his fist around her bracelet. As long as he had this, he
had power. For whatever reason, Paul wanted it. There was still
hope.

Carlie dozed in and out fitfully. The
whatever-37 drug made her sluggish and faint. There were no windows
inside the small room and the fluorescent lighting never wavered.
She had no clue whether she’d been in the room for hours or days.
Occasionally she heard voices in the hallway, often Shelley’s, but
no other sounds.

She mentally practiced every defense Nick
taught her, planning what to do when she got an opportunity once
the drug completely wore off. She was grateful for all the drills
Nick insisted on the last few weeks. Shelley wouldn’t be aware
everything Carlie knew—therefore Paul wouldn’t either. Although the
supposed anti-terrorist group wanted her dead, she wouldn’t go down
without a fight.

“Is the target awake?” Paul’s gruff voice
came from the other side of the doorway.

“She’s been in and out,” Shelley
answered.

“Well, she’s had enough recovery time. Our
client wants answers.”

“Sir, about the client...” There was a long
pause in the conversation, and Carlie strained to hear them.

“What is it, Daniels?”

“Is he...did he...”

“Spit it out, or get the hell out of my
way,” Paul growled.

“Carlie said he’s a criminal paying you off
to assassinate her, and that we aren’t working for the government.
Is that true?”

“I know you’re newer around here, but Carlie
already ruined one good agent when she convinced Nick to help her.
Don’t make the same mistakes he did.”

The door swung open and Paul strode into the
room. He jerked his head in Shelley’s direction and she followed
behind him.

“On your feet, bitch,” Paul barked. “Someone
wants to see you.” He turned to Shelley. “Secure her hands behind
her back.”

Shelley walked toward her, but the look in
her eyes wasn’t nearly as hostile as it had been before. She pulled
a plastic zip tie from her pocket and held it out. “It’ll be a lot
easier if you cooperate.”

Carlie glared at Paul before turning around.
She didn’t know exactly where Shelley stood within Paul’s group or
how long she had been her enemy, but it appeared she thought about
what Carlie told her. “How long have you been lying to the agents,
Paul? Do they all think they’re still fighting on the side of
good?”

“Shut your mouth or I’ll shut it for you,”
he warned. “We don’t need your lies around here.”

“What does it matter?” she asked. “You’re
going to kill me anyway. You’re just pissed off because Nick
figured out what was going on and tried to save me. What is it you
want from me?”

Paul didn’t answer.

She figured he must work for the assassins
from Maharla, but she wasn’t sure why he kept her alive. Meeting
with the client would probably clear up that question, and end in
her death.

The zip tie closed around her wrists,
binding them together as the hard plastic dug into her flesh,
flaring up the nerve pain from her scarred left hand. Even though
it hurt, there was quite a bit of play between her hands. She
didn’t know if it was enough to wriggle free, but she intended to
find out if they gave her any time to herself.

Behind her, Shelley inhaled swiftly and
murmured directly in her ear, “Is that what the fire did to you?
That’s awful.”

Carlie craned her neck to meet Shelley’s
eyes over her shoulder. “Were we ever really friends, or did you
work for him the entire time?”

“Time to go.” Paul hooked his hand into her
elbow and jerked her toward the doorway. “Can’t keep him
waiting.”

For better or worse, she was about to find
out why they’d kept her alive.

***

Nick turned on his cell phone as the plane
landed. He had one missed call and a voice mail. While the plane
rolled to its designated terminal, he accessed the message.

“Mr. Kendall, we’ve been waiting over a year
for someone to call the safe number. FBI agents are on their way to
the Phoenix airport and will meet you at the car rental counters.
Your boss stopped following orders last year, and we’re desperate
to catch him. Many innocent lives have been lost. Perhaps we can
mutually benefit each other. There are four agents, and they will
each have a green bag so you can easily identify them. I hope you
meet them.”