Morgan's Son (9 page)

"Why don't you have a partner now?" he demanded.

"Terry had a heart attack in
Prague
. He's alive, and he's going to recover, but he'll never be able to work again, at least not in our business."

"I see…." Craig turned away and took a deep, shaky breath.

Sabra waited in the silence, feeling the tension, seeing it in every line of Talbot's body. He stood like a man already beaten. Why? She had so many questions for him, yet she knew she didn't dare ask. Right now, her only concern was to get him to agree to the mission, though a huge part of her was afraid of him. How could she stay in the same hotel room with him, night after night? Being close to Craig was unleashing every emotion, good and bad, she'd ever experienced, and that was frightening to Sabra. But she knew she had to forsake her own misgivings and put Jason's life first.

"Do you have brothers or sisters?" she asked softly.

"What?" Craig looked at her warily.

"I just wanted to know about your family, whether you had siblings."

"Do you?"

She accepted his challenge. Okay, if Talbot wanted her to open up first, she didn't have a problem with it. "I'm an only child. I never had brothers or sisters, though I wanted them. What about you?" she persisted.

Craig stared down at his leather shoes and shrugged. "I have an older brother and a younger brother."

"Oh, you're the middle child." She smiled a little, hoping to disarm him. "So were you the mediator?"

"I don't know."

"What does your older brother do?"

"Dan is a captain in the Marine Corps. He's a legal officer." Craig pulled out a chair. His knees were shaky, and he felt as if he was going to fall. He sat down heavily.

Sabra walked to the chair opposite him. She sat down slowly, smoothing the cinnamon silk over her thighs. "An attorney. That's impressive. What about your younger brother?"

"Joe runs the family trading post and grocery store on the Navajo reservation," he said darkly, picking up his now-cold coffee and taking a slug of it.

"So, two of you went into the Marine Corps?"

"Yes. So what?"

"My father is a general in the army, and when I was young, I realized he wanted a son to follow in his footsteps. As I got older, he transferred into the Mossad. Shortly after getting my degree in college, I joined the Mossad, too. My father wasn't very pleased about me entering the spy business, but I wanted him to be proud of me." Sabra smiled sadly as Craig lifted his head to stare at her. "I spent three years there, but he kept influencing my assignments, so I quit. I came to Perseus because I liked Morgan's philosophy that getting the work done was what counted, not the gender of the worker. I've been here five years, and I nearly lost my life three different times. Maybe I'm lucky, I don't know."

Craig snorted. "Everyone's luck runs out eventually in this kind of work," he muttered, his anger dissolving in spite of himself beneath her soothing voice.

"Yours did, didn't it?"

He nodded, unable to give verbal acknowledgment to the truth. Her eyes were large with sympathy, and he felt as if he wanted to drown in them, to pull her to him and absorb her natural strength and confidence. "Someday," he said, "you'll hit bottom. It happens to everyone. It's inevitable."

"I've never denied that fact," Sabra said quietly, holding his tortured gaze. "I know that what I do could kill me."

"Then why do you do it?"

"Because people need help. Right or wrong, Craig, I feel I have something to offer Perseus as a mercenary. I'm good at what I do, but I'm not arrogant about it, nor do I fool myself into thinking I'm impervious to a bullet, which could take my life at any time."

He shook his head tiredly. "This is a crazy world. We're crazy."

"I don't think so. I'd like to think that what we do is important, if only to the people we help and to the families waiting for their safe return. We aren't in the line of killing. Our job is to save."

"It doesn't matter," he said flatly, all the life draining out of him. "Nothing matters much anymore."

"I know you just lost your partner. I'm very sorry."

He grimaced and looked down at his cup. "Yeah, so am I. She was a sweet kid. Idealistic.
Like you.
"

Sabra refused to be baited on that point, realizing that he was slowly giving in to the idea of taking the mission. It wasn't like her to rub salt in anyone's wounds, and it was obvious Talbot was not only wounded, but hemorrhaging from something that had happened in his past. That was why he felt so disconnected from the world in general. Her father had been the same way after the war.

"Will you help me?" Sabra asked gently. "Will you come with me on this mission, Craig?"

His mouth contorted. His hands tightened around the mug. The silence deepened. Finally, he lifted his head and held her warm gaze. "If I had an ounce of sense, I'd tell you no."

She managed a grateful look. "Then I'm glad you don't have that ounce of sense."

Sitting up, Craig squared his shoulders, trying to throw off the weight that perpetually saddled them. "Don't be. If Jennifer was alive, she'd tell you the personal hell I put her through." His eyes darkened and his voice dropped in warning. "I'm hell on everyone, Sabra. You'd better protect yourself from me, because if we go in together, you'll come out of this either wounded or dead."

B
adly shaken by the warning, Sabra said nothing as Jake knocked lightly on the door. She saw Talbot pivot, breathing hard, his fists locked at his side. Jake looked at Talbot as he entered, then at her, and halted in the doorway.

"It sounds like a damn war going on in here," he muttered. "What have you decided?"

Talbot glared at
Randolph
. "I'll go."

"And you can follow Sabra's orders?"

"I'll follow them as far as I think they should be followed."

Jake grunted and walked into the room, Killian and Wolf behind him.

Sabra swallowed hard, wishing her heart would settle down. They had no more than closed the door and sat down when the phone rang. The unexpected sound shattered what was left of her nerves. Talbot was back in his place opposite his shadowed gaze trained on her. He made her nervous and frightened yet strangely excited at the same time. Why this crazy quilt of feelings. She had no time to seek an answer. Jake answered the phone.

"Laura? Yes, we've got a team in place. No…I don't think you should meet with them. You're fragile enough under the circumstances. Yes, Sabra is going—it's as we discussed."

Sabra saw Jake's scowl deepened. "Laura, I don't think—" He slowly settled the receiver in its cradle and looked gravely at them. "Laura is coming over. She wants to meet and talk with both of you."

"She's just hurting herself all over again," Sabra whispered in a strained tone.

"That's what I tried to tell her," Jake said irritably, waving his hand in frustration. "She says she has something Jason will want."

Instantly, Sabra realized it was Jason's favorite stuffed toy, the gray squirrel she had mentioned earlier. "Maybe it's better this way," she said.

"It's not," Talbot retorted sharply. "Morgan never allowed his wife into his affairs at Perseus—and with good reason. I don't want to see her. What are we supposed to say—don't worry, we'll get your son back? We can't promise that, and that's what she'll want to hear."

Glaring at him, Sabra said, "We can promise we'll try."

"Promising anything is bad news and you know it."

"Laura isn't a client. She's the owner's wife. I'd say it's a little different this time around." Again, Sabra wanted to slap his insolent face. How could Talbot be such a jerk? The last thing she wanted was him hurting Laura—she'd been hurt more than enough by this tragedy already.

"It doesn't make a difference," Craig muttered, glancing at Jake. "We promise nothing."

Jake cleared his throat and moved uncomfortably in his chair. "He's right, Sabra. When Laura gets here, don't raise her hopes. The woman's walking an emotional tightrope that's ready to shred at any moment. Just let her talk. We can only be sounding boards for her fears."

Chastened, Sabra nodded. "I understand, Jake." She didn't like it, but she understood the wisdom of his request. Still, she smarted at Talbot's harsh take on life.

"Look, why don't you two go get some coffee? The rest of us will sit here and discuss a few details of the upcoming mission for a few minutes," Jake suggested.

Sabra was more than ready to leave the tension of the room. "Fine." She was at the door before Talbot had even gotten to his feet. Outside, she drew in a deep breath of air and headed to the women's rest room. Right now, she wanted to be alone. Her feelings were raging like an unchecked flood within her and she had to try and figure out why. Maybe washing her face in cold water would bring her back to reason again. Besides, with Laura coming in, Sabra wanted to be under full control. Now was not the time to show weakness; it would only make Laura worry more.

As she walked down the long, quiet hall, she wondered if Talbot was going to be an ogre to Laura. Would he give her a good dose of his version of reality, or leave her with a shred of hope? Knowing the bastard, she suspected he wouldn't give her an inch to cling to. Anger surged in her again at the thought as she entered the rest room and turned on the cold faucet at the sink in front of the mirror.

By the time she wandered back toward the War Room, Marie had returned to her desk. Sabra's heart skipped a beat as she realized Talbot was there, too, talking with her. Marie was smiling and gesturing at whatever he'd said. And to Sabra's surprise, he was smiling back! Old Sourpuss Talbot was smiling! Sabra cautioned herself not to hold such immature thoughts. This wasn't the time or place for them. She might be angry at him for attacking her on a personal level, but she couldn't afford to hold a grudge. Jason's life was at stake, and rescuing him was all that mattered.

"Sabra," Marie called in greeting, "look what Craig brought my grandson, Chris." She held up a T-shirt depicting a boat on the canal waters of
Venice
. "Isn't that sweet of him?" She turned and said, "You're always so thoughtful this way, Craig. You didn't have to do it, you know."

Sabra frowned. Talbot had bought a gift for Marie's four-year-old grandson? She couldn't hide her shock. Talbot flushed under Marie's warm, genuine praise, avoiding both their gazes and choosing instead to stare down at his shoes.

"How nice," Sabra said in a choked voice.

"Every mission Craig has been on," Marie said, carefully refolding the T-shirt, "he brings back some small gift for Chris."

"That's interesting," Sabra murmured. The words came out with more sarcasm than she'd intended, and when Talbot snapped a look in her direction, she realized she'd hurt his feelings. Damn! Why was she behaving like an immature teenager? She had never done so around Terry. Never, for that matter, around anyone. What was it about Talbot that drew her full range of emotions?

"Actually," Marie continued, "Chris and his parents were in here on a visit one time, and Craig happened to meet them." She turned to him and smiled. "I believe that was right after Morgan hired you, wasn't it?"

"Yeah, something like that," Craig said uncomfortably, wildly aware of Sabra's renewed interest in him. Her face had lost a lot of his sarcasm as Marie explained the circumstances. A huge part of him felt it was none of her business.

"Chris was three and a half at the time, Sabra, and he went flying toward Craig as he came out of the War Room. That little guy took to Craig like a duck to water." Marie chuckled and reached out, touching his arm. "Your first assignment was to
Germany
, and you brought Chris back that teddy bear. My grandson just went crazy over the gift," Marie said in a confidential tone. "Ever since then, Craig's always brought some little gift for Chris when he comes in with his report." Her eyes filled with tears. "You're so special, Craig. I hope you know how happy you make my grandson."