Match Play (8 page)

“You said you were with Captain Harper when you suffered this attack,” the physician continued. “You also mentioned that he was…How did you phrase it? Helping to work out the kinks from your game.”

Dayna couldn't remember the last time she'd blushed, but the gentle insinuation sent heat rushing into her cheeks.

“Captain Harper was massaging my neck. We weren't having sex.”

“No?” Her mouth twitching, the doc slanted Luke a sideways glance. “How unfortunate.”

Oh, brother! First Kim Li. Now this slender, doe-eyed physician. Luke was reeling 'em in. Pointedly, Dayna cleared her throat.

“Are we done here?”

“We are.”

All brisk business now, the doctor handed over a stack of appointment slips.

“I've scheduled you for an echocardiogram, a nuclear treadmill test and a follow-up appointment with our on-staff cardiologist.”

The appointments, Dayna saw, were spread over the next three days. “I might have to adjust the times. I don't know my schedule for the rest of the tournament.”

“I'm sorry, Ms. Duncan, but it's highly unlikely you'll be able to finish the tournament. I'm required to file a report on any E.R. visits by foreign nationals with the National Health Service, you see. NHS will notify tournament officials. If they permitted you to proceed without medical clearance, they would be held liable should you suffer another attack while on the course.”

Dayna had participated in too many big-dollar sports events to suggest that she sign a release freeing the organizers from liability. Such agreements weren't worth the paper they were written on if and when lawyers got involved.

The whole issue could be moot, she reminded herself, depending on the lab analysis of the champagne. Until then, she had no choice but to complete the additional tests. Luckily, tomorrow was a down day. She'd use the break to whip through this battery of tests.

“All I have on the agenda tomorrow are PR appearances. Any chance we can reschedule these appointments and get the results in time for me to play on Friday?”

“I'll see what I can do.”

The physician returned a few moments later with a revised schedule. “We can do the echocardiogram this afternoon, but the nuclear treadmill test requires several hours and can't be done until tomorrow morning. You must report to radiology at nine.”

“She will,” Luke promised.

The doc turned to him with another melting smile. “I would also advise that she get some rest.”

“She will.”

“You know,” Dayna said heavily when the physician had departed, “I
can
speak for myself.”

“I know. Let's go get this echocardiogram out of the way.”

“You don't have to stay for that. I'm feeling fine now, Luke. Really.”

The look he gave her would have stripped the rust from a junkyard car. Silenced, she walked with him through a maze of corridors and down a narrow flight of stairs to the radiology department.

The sonogram of her heart took less than half an hour. Dayna emerged from the subterranean darkness into what was left of the afternoon. She was still wearing her cobalt-colored Gore-Tex jacket and pants, but clouds obscured the sun and the air had a bite to it.

“Here, put this on.” Shrugging out of his leather jacket, Luke draped it over her shoulders. “The wind's picked up again.”

She didn't see how it could blow any stronger without setting off sirens. With a pang of sympathy for any unfortunate foursomes still out on the course, she slid her arms into the jacket. The scent of leather and Luke teased at her as he took her elbow. Once ensconced in the privacy of his car, she fingered her chronometer.

“I need to let Hawk know what the doc said.”

“Go ahead.”

While Luke steered through the cobbled streets of St. Andrews, Dayna delivered a succinct report. She brought Hawk up to speed and was about to ask if he'd contacted Lightning when a street sign caught her eye.

“Hang on a sec, Hawk.” Slewing around, she checked the sign again. “You missed the turn,” she told Luke.

“No, I didn't.”

“The hotel is behind us.”

“We're not going back to the hotel.”

“Where
are
we going?”

“A hunting lodge just north of Dundee.”

“Who decided that?”

“I did, when the doc said you needed rest. You won't get it at the hotel when word of your trip to the E.R. leaks, which you know it will. The phone will ring off the hook. And if they can't reach you by phone, they'll set up camp outside your hotel room.”

Hawk had heard the brief exchange and agreed with Luke. “I'll take care of things at this end. You're off the op until we know what caused that kick to your heart.”

“'Scuse me. Last time I checked, there was the small matter of two targets to work. You can't handle both.”

“I was just waiting to hear from you before I contact Lightning. He can send in another operative if necessary.”

Dayna's mouth thinned to a tight line. This was her op, dammit. She'd studied every facet of Wu Kim Li's personality and game before jumping a plane for Scotland. Once here, she'd worked to establish contact with the girl and lay the groundwork for the snatch.

Those terrifying moments at the hotel when she couldn't get her breath were already almost forgotten.
Almost.
Just enough residual memory remained for Dayna to concede she'd be more of a liability than an asset to Hawk if she suffered another attack like that.

Then there was Luke. Judging by the stubborn set to his jaw, she'd have to put her gun to his head to get him to turn the car around. Even then he'd probably insist she pull the trigger before he'd comply.

Thoroughly disgruntled at having the ground yanked out from under her, Dayna yielded with something less than graciousness.

“Okay, okay. I'll take the treadmill test in the morning and we'll go from there. In the meantime, you work that lab analysis on the champagne.”

“The bottle is on its way to the forensics lab in Edinburgh as we speak.”

“Call me as soon as you hear from them.”

“Will do. Now, why don't you just sit back, relax and enjoy the scenery.”

“Yeah, right.”

L
ightning was reviewing the previous night's activity summary from agents in the field when Gillian came in with word she had Hawkeye on the secure line.

“He needs to talk to you,” Jilly reported with a worried crease between her brows. “I think something's happened to Rogue.”

Knowing how close she and Dayna had become, Nick didn't object when she lingered in his office but took the precaution of
not
putting Hawk on speaker. OMEGA rarely lost an operative. When they did, the details weren't pretty.

“Lightning here. What's happening, Hawk?”

“Rogue suffered a severe bout of chest pains and had to go to the E.R.”

Nick's knuckles went white where he gripped the phone. He'd braced himself for guns, knives, a vicious wire garrote cutting into the throat. Not this. Not Rogue. She kept herself in such superb condition she could run rings around any other OMEGA operative, her boss included.

“Is she okay?”

“She thinks she is. She refused to ride to the hospital in an ambulance. Insisted she'd drive herself until we nixed that.”

“We?”

“Luke Harper was with her when she had the attack.”

“Thank God someone was. Was it a heart attack?”

“Rogue?” Jilly gasped. “Is he talking about Rogue?”

Nodding, Nick keyed the speaker button. If Rogue required immediate extraction and transport home, Jilly would arrange it. She needed to hear the details.

“I'm putting you on speaker, Hawk. Jilly's here with me. Was it a heart attack?” he asked again.

“The docs termed it severe arrhythmia, possibly brought on by stress or physical overexertion. Rogue's not so sure.”

Jilly's eyes rounded as Hawk related Dayna's suspicions about the champagne she'd been sipping right before her attack.

“The Brits promised a lab analysis ASAP. In the meantime, the docs think Rogue should undergo a thorough cardiac evaluation.”

“Does she want it done there, or should we bring her home?”

“Here, although she's not convinced her heart is the problem.”

“Whatever caused that arrhythmia,” Nick said sharply, “the strain could have damaged her heart muscle. Tell her she's on ice until she completes those tests. And for God's sake, make sure she rests up.”

“Harper's taking care of that,” Hawk drawled.

“Seems like his name is popping up with some frequency all of a sudden.”

“You'll hear it a lot more. He's got Rogue on a short leash right now and sounds like he means to keep her there.”

“
Our
Rogue?”

“The one and the same.”

Nick tried to imagine anyone curtailing Dayna's activities against her will and failed dismally.

“I need to hear more about that in a minute. First give me an update on the Wus.”

“No change from the report I sent earlier. Rogue confirmed Kim Li wants to defect. Her father has yet to give me a definitive answer. I had planned to work him during the down day tomorrow, but may need to shift my focus to keep a tab on the girl.”

“You want me to send in another operative?”

“Depends on whether Rogue's still on ice during the last few days of the tournament. She doesn't want to pull out of it, but unless she gets a green light from the docs she may have no choice.”

Jilly hopped off the corner of Nick's desk, her eyes alive with excitement. “I'll take her slot.”

For a moment she looked so much like her mother that Nick blinked. He'd been half in love with Maggie Sinclair from their first meeting in Cannes so many years ago. Adam Ridgeway had eventually claimed Maggie and Mackenzie had later turned Nick's life upside down. Yet all he had to do was look at the beautiful, vibrant young woman who was his goddaughter to remember the jolt.

Jilly was going to rock some man's world, he thought ruefully. He just hoped it wasn't the world of the too smooth, too slick Ivy-leaguer who kept trying to put a ring on her finger.

“It's a charity tournament,” Jilly said in a rush of eagerness. “The entry fee covers both the initial and final rounds, presuming golfers post a qualifying score. I'll have to check the fine print, but I'll bet there are contingencies to cover withdrawal and/or substitution for medical reasons.”

“No!”

The flat refusal erupted from the speaker.

“I'm not as good as Dayna,” Jilly continued in a rush, “but I do know which end of a golf club to swing. What's your handicap, Hawk?”

“Golf is only a small part of this op,” he countered. “The rest of it could become real dangerous, real fast.”

“Which only reinforces the fact that you need someone to watch your back.”

“Someone who knows
how
to watch my back. You're not a trained agent. You don't know how to handle yourself in the field.”

Lightning was relegated to the sidelines as Jilly planted her palms on his desk and traded verbal punches with one of his toughest agents. Her blue eyes flashing, she gave as good as she got.

“I know enough to feel comfortable walking DC streets at night. Or are you forgetting who taught me how to shoot everything from a single-barrel derringer to a double-ought-thirty?”

“Dammit, Gillian…”

“I also spent almost two years in Beijing. I don't pretend to fully comprehend the Asian mind with all its subtle complexities. But I'll bet I can relate to Wu Kim Li and her father on levels you can't.”

“I'll give you that,” he conceded, sounding as goaded as a gored bull, “but that's all I'm going to give.”

“Is that right? How about the fact that I'm my parents' daughter? If I inherited one-tenth of their combined smarts, I can at least maintain contact with Kim Li while you work her father.”

He responded with something close to a growl, and Lightning decided it was time to intervene.

“Get me the details on the tournament, will you, Jilly? I need to talk to Hawk.”

The polite request housed an unmistakable command. To her credit, she didn't presume on their close relationship by arguing her case further. She did, however, make a face as she straightened and popped him a salute.

“Yes, sir!”

Nick waited until she'd closed the door to pick up the thread. “Jilly made some excellent points. I'd have to clear it with Maggie and Adam before I allow her to go into the field, but…”

“Yeah, good luck with that!”

“…but this is your op. Yours and Rogue's. The final decision is up to the two of you. Get her take on it and get back to me.”

 

Dayna took the call from Hawk while circling the shore of a small loch ringed by rolling hills. Black-faced sheep grazed the slopes, lifting their heads to peer over stone walls while Luke navigated the narrow road.

Dayna stared back at them in disgust as Hawk confirmed that she was on ice until she got a green light from the docs. The news that Jilly had volunteered to step in spawned mixed emotions. Dayna's initial reaction mirrored Hawk's. The more he argued against the idea, however, the more she saw its potential. If nothing else, Jilly could maintain the tenuous connection with Kim Li until Dayna returned to the scene.

“Sorry, Hawk. I know you don't like the idea, but I think Jilly would make an excellent substitute if I have to pull out of the tournament. She plays a good game, so she'll hold her own on the course, and she's smart.”

“Smart people can end up dead in this business.”

“She knows that. So does Lightning.”

“She doesn't have any field experience.”

“Maybe not, but I'm betting she's picked up more operational awareness than any of us realize while filling in for Elizabeth these past weeks.”

She was also all grown up, which Hawk refused to admit. Dayna experienced a momentary qualm when she recalled her brief conversation with Jilly on that very subject. Ruthlessly, she suppressed it. As she'd pointedly reminded Hawk, Gillian Ridgeway was smart. She wouldn't complicate matters by injecting a personal agenda into the mission.

Not that it could get more complicated—or more personal. Where she and Luke were concerned, anyway.

“I should know by tomorrow noon whether I have to pull out of the tournament. If I do, Jilly has my vote as a stand-in on the course. She'll have to jump a plane soon, though, to get to St. Andrews in time for us to bring her up to speed.”

Assuming Luke could find his way back to St. Andrews, she amended after she'd terminated the conversation with a still-unconvinced Hawk. Although they'd driven less than forty kilometers, they'd traded the neat towns and fishing villages of the coast for windswept moors cut by rushing rivers and deep glens.

Some five kilometers later the road deteriorated to a dirt track that hugged the shore of the long, narrow loch. Across the lake, the ruins of a castle perched on a high promontory. If there was a hunting lodge anywhere in the vicinity, Dayna couldn't see it.

“Where is this place, anyway?”

“We're almost there.”

“How did you find it?”

“It belongs to an RAF colonel at the base. He's invited some of us Yanks out to hunt a few times.”

She tried to envision Luke Harper in tweeds with a shotgun under one arm, stalking deer or quail. The tweeds didn't work for her but she had no trouble picturing him as a hunter. In essence, that's what he did every day when he strapped on his two-billion-dollar plane and went after the bad guys.

“The lodge is pretty rustic,” he warned, slowing for a tight bend.

Rustic
was certainly one way to describe the stone cottage that appeared at the end of the track. A cow byre was attached to one side and the slate roof looked in imminent danger of collapsing in several places, but Dayna had camped out during enough kayaking expeditions to appreciate the fact that it had a roof at all.

On those expeditions, however, she'd toted a knapsack packed with survival essentials. The only essential she carried with her on this outing was the tube of lip balm in her fanny pack.

“I hope the colonel provides his guests with little niceties like soap and/or toilet paper. Or do we go
au naturel?
”

“He keeps the basics on hand.”

Luke parked the car in the cow byre and unlocked the front door with a key retrieved from under a loose stone in the windowsill. Dayna started to follow him inside, but a silent vibration against her wrist stopped her in her tracks.

“This is Rogue. Go ahead, Hawk.”

“Gillian's hopping a plane tonight,” he reported in a voice as stony as the cottage walls. “She'll arrive tomorrow.”

Uh-oh. He wasn't happy about bringing in an untrained operative. Neither was Dayna, but she'd rather have Jilly take her place in the charity Pro-Am than anyone else she could think of.

“That was Hawk,” she explained to Luke when she entered the hut. “A backup is flying in. I'm meeting with her tomorrow morning.”

“You have a treadmill test at nine,” he reminded her as he pried open the shutters to let in light and fresh air.

She nodded, looking around. The interior of the one-room cottage matched its rough exterior. The downstairs combined living and eating areas. An open loft constituted the original crofter's sleeping quarters, now supplemented with four metal bunk beds.

Although a gasoline generator could supply electricity, blocks of dried peat stacked beside the stone fireplace were obviously the primary source for heat and light. A bubbling brook behind the cottage supplied fresh water. Nature, Dayna confirmed, would supply the bathroom facilities.

As promised, a metal storage cabinet contained the basic necessities to include a wide variety of canned goods, tins of tea, soap and tooth powder and an impressive selection of whiskeys.

“All the comforts of home,” Dayna drawled, eyeing the array of bottles.

“Did I mention the colonel is a native Scot?”

A rumbling in the vicinity of her stomach reminded Dayna that she hadn't eaten since breakfast. Correctly interpreting the signal, Luke grinned.

“I'm hungry, too. Why don't you kick back and relax while I start a fire?”

“I can help.”

“You're supposed to take it easy. Doctor's orders.”

Dayna wasn't any more used to being waited on than she was to being hovered over. Embarrassed and uncomfortable with Luke's determined attentiveness, she flapped an impatient hand.

“Opening a few cans won't stress me out. Go start the fire.”

Within moments a crackling and somewhat smoky fire chased away the dank smell. Mere moments after that, hearty beef stew sizzled in a heavy cast iron frying pan. Mushing tinned soda crackers with water, Dayna spooned the lumpy mixture into the stew to make dumplings.