Operation: Midnight Guardian
Operation: Midnight Guardian
Linda Castillo
MIDNIGHT IN MONTANAWhen a federal transport was ambushed and overturned in the wilds of Montana, MIDNIGHT agent Sean Cutter was given forty-eight hours to track down a desperate woman. But falsely accused, Mattie Logan didn't want to be saved. It was Sean's job to convince her otherwise.A former Department of Defense scientist now targeted by the terrorist known only as the Jaguar, Mattie couldn't risk betrayal again. But neither could Sean. Caught out in the blistering cold, Mattie sought shelter beneath Sean's broad shoulders, each needing the other's warmth to stay alive. But would trusting one another prove to be more difficult than clearing Mattie's name?
Don’t look behind you!
The shadow of a man appeared seemingly out of nowhere and lunged at her. She pivoted, trying to scramble away. But she wasn’t fast enough, and a hard body plowed into her with the force of a Sherman tank.
Strong arms clamped around her like a vise and tackled her to the ground. Spitting dirt, she rolled and lashed out with both feet. Satisfaction flicked in her brain when her assailant grunted. The next thing she knew he was on top of her. With her arms bound, she could not defend herself.
“Get off me!” she shouted.
She caught a glimpse of dark eyes. She felt the tremendous force of his strength, and her only thought was that these were the last moments of her life.
“If you want to live, you’ll be quiet.”
Operation: Midnight Guardian
Linda Castillo
www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Linda Castillo knew at a very young age that she wanted to be a writer—and penned her first novel at the age of thirteen. She is the winner of numerous writing awards, including the Holt Medallion, the Golden Heart, the Daphne du Maurier and received a nomination for the prestigious RITA
Award.
Linda loves writing edgy romantic suspense novels that push the envelope and take her readers on a rollercoaster ride of breathtaking romance and thrilling suspense. She resides in Texas with her husband, four lovable dogs and an Appaloosa named George. For a complete list of her books, check out her Web site at www.lindacastillo.com. Contact her at books@lindacastillo.com. Or write to her at P.O. Box 670501, Dallas, Texas 75367-0501.
CAST OF CHARACTERS
Sean Cutter—It is the mission of a lifetime: apprehend escaped prisoner Mattie Logan before a terrorist cell can retrieve the secrets locked inside her head. Will his heart survive an encounter with the angel-faced beauty?
Mattie Logan—A brilliant former Department of Defense scientist, did she sell her soul for the likes of money? Or was she framed by someone she trusted?
Daniel Savage—Is he an innocent Department of Defense coworker willing to risk his career to help Mattie? Or is he the man responsible for framing her?
The Jaguar—A cruel terrorist with a personal vendetta against Sean Cutter. He will do anything to obtain the secret locked inside Mattie Logan’s head. Will he get to her before Cutter?
Mike Madrid—He is the man Cutter calls when the going gets rough and lives are on the line. But is he willing to go the distance to save the life of an alleged traitor?
Martin Wolfe—He’s at the very top of the CIA food chain. He wants the Jaguar caught at any cost. But does he deem Mattie Logan expendable?
Contents
Prologue
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Prologue
The prison van swayed rhythmically as it barreled into the night, but Mattie Logan didn’t sleep. The judge’s final word rang like a death knell in her ears.
Guilty.
The verdict had been handed down eight hours earlier in the federal courthouse in Billings, Montana. She couldn’t believe she would be spending the rest of her life in prison. How in the name of God had this happened?
She’d asked herself that question a thousand times in the past four months. Four agonizing months spent in a prison cell the size of a bathroom. A cell where she’d come very close to losing her mind. The only thing that had kept her going was the promise of justice. The hope that truth would prevail. Eight hours ago that hope had been ripped from her desperate grasp, and she was left with nothing but a keen sense of impending doom.
Mattie Logan, you are hereby sentenced to life in prison.
When she shifted on the bench seat, the shackles on her ankles and wrists rattled. The U.S. Marshal sitting across from her glanced at her over the top of his magazine but didn’t offer to loosen the cuffs. Because of the nature of her alleged crime, she’d been deemed a high security risk. The term was laughable—or terrifying, depending on your point of view. Nonetheless, three U.S. Marshals had been assigned to transport her from Billings to a federal prison facility at an undisclosed location in Washington State.
Mattie gazed out the small window at the stark winter-dead trees silhouetted against a jagged horizon. They were traveling on a desolate stretch of highway somewhere in the mountains and heading west. The bleak scene reminded her of her life—cold and desolate—and at that moment she’d never felt more alone.
She leaned against the seat back and tried not to think. But her scientist’s mind was always at work. It was one of the reasons she’d been hired to work on the top-secret EDNA project at the Department of Defense.
If only she’d known….
A loud bang disrupted the silence. The van swerved violently, tossing her against the wall. Mattie looked over to see the young marshal rise, his expression alarmed, his hand going to his sidearm. Had a tire blown?
Then a second bang sounded. The van veered left, the force throwing Mattie to the floor. A few feet away the young marshal clutched the balance bar as he stumbled toward the cab, his eyes trained on the driver.
“Sam, what happened?” he shouted. “Sam!”
The driver didn’t answer. Through the windshield Mattie saw the headlights play wildly over brush and sapling trees. Fear cut through her when she realized the van was careening into a ravine.
A violent bump sent her two feet into the air. The marshal stumbled and fell but didn’t drop his radio. “Bravo Victor Two Niner. We got a code—”
His voice was cut off as the van pitched. Mattie caught a glimpse of the driver slumped over the wheel. Out the window, she saw sparks and debris spew high into the air. Another lurch tossed her to the opposite side of the van and sent the marshal sliding across the floor. The female marshal was shouting as she grappled for her radio.
The lights blinked out, plunging them into darkness. The floor tilted, and Mattie began to tumble. She tried to raise her arms to protect herself, but the cuffs and shackles hindered her. A sound that was part scream, part moan tore from her throat when her head snapped back, shattering glass.
Then suddenly the van was still. In total darkness Mattie lay on her back. Somewhere nearby steam hissed. The side door was now above her and stood open. Cold air poured in, embracing her with icy fingers. Beyond, a sliver of moon illuminated fast-moving storm clouds.
The female marshal called out. “Is everyone all right?”
“I think my leg’s broke,” came a weak voice.
“What the hell happened?” came a third.
“Logan? You okay?”
Mattie did a quick physical inventory. Her head hurt. Raising her hand, she touched her temple, felt the wetness of blood. “I’m cut.”
“Stay put.” One male marshal groaned as he rose.
“What about Sam?” the female marshal asked, referring to the driver.
Mattie looked toward the cab. By the light of the moon she could see that the driver was slumped across the seat at an odd angle.
“I’ll check.” One of the male marshals went to the driver.
“We’ve got an engine fire,” came another voice.
“Let’s get everyone out of the van.”
Mattie shoved herself to a sitting position and looked around. Through the cab window she saw the yellow flicker of flames coming from the engine. Somewhere in the van, the injured marshal groaned in pain.
The other male marshal came up beside her and squatted. “I’m going to take the shackles off your ankles so you can climb out.”
Still numb with shock, Mattie nodded. “Okay.”
Quickly he removed the shackles and tossed them aside. Leaving the handcuffs in place, he took her arm firmly and guided her toward the open door where the female agent was waiting. “Get the prisoner to a safe place and keep an eye on her. Get on the radio and get an ambulance and the local sheriff’s office here ASAP. I’m going to get Sam out in case the van blows.”
“Roger that.” The female marshal heaved herself through the open door, then leaned down and offered her hand to Mattie. “Come on.”
Mattie braced her feet on the seat back and let the woman pull her from the van. Cold night air engulfed her as she emerged. She smelled gasoline and smoke. Felt heat from the engine fire. The female marshal pointed to a fallen log several yards away. “Sit down and don’t move. You got that?”
On shaking legs Mattie stumbled over to the log and sat down hard. She didn’t know if it was from cold or shock, but she couldn’t seem to stop shaking. The van had ended up on its side thirty-five feet down a treacherously steep ravine. The interior lights were out, but a single dim headlight shot a beam through the darkness, exposing a cliff that surely would have killed all onboard had the van gone over.
The female marshal tugged her radio from her belt. “This is Bravo Victor Two Niner—”
A soft thwack! sounded. Startled by the sound, Mattie looked up in time to see the female marshal collapse. Concerned, she rushed to the fallen woman and knelt.
“Are you all right?” she asked.
At first she though the marshal had succumbed to some injury sustained in the crash. Panic hit when she found herself looking at a hole the size of a dime in the woman’s forehead.
“Oh my God.” Mattie staggered back. She looked around, spotted the two male marshals climbing out of the van. “I think she’s been shot!” she cried.
The two men looked at her. “What are you talking about?”
Thwack! Thwack! Thwack!
Both marshals jerked as if an overzealous puppeteer had yanked invisible strings. Something dark and shiny bloomed on one of the men’s jacket. They collapsed and lay still.
Mattie stared at the fallen men in disbelief. Someone was shooting at them, but she couldn’t fathom who or why. What was going on?
A light slashed through the darkness at the top of the ravine. Relief swept through her when four men emerged from a black SUV. She was about to call out to them when it struck her that they were speaking in a language she wasn’t familiar with. Who were they? How had they arrived on the scene so quickly?
Instinct sent her slinking behind the fallen log. From her hiding place, she watched as they started toward the wreckage and the downed U.S. Marshals. Were these men rescuers? Or were they the shooters?
One of the men stopped at the nearest fallen marshal. “Where is your prisoner?” he asked in a heavily accented voice.
The marshal groaned. “Help us…”
“Where is your prisoner?” the man repeated.
“Got…away,” the marshal groaned.
The man drew back a booted foot and kicked the marshal. “Where is she!”
The marshal ground out a curse. “Screw…you.”
Hissing a word Mattie didn’t understand, the man pulled a gun from his belt. “Stupid American,” he said and shot the marshal at point-blank range.
Horrified, Mattie scrambled back, put her hand over her mouth to keep herself from screaming. She’d never seen anything so brutal in her life. Who were these men? Why had they shot that marshal in cold blood? And why were they looking for her?
But deep inside, Mattie knew what they wanted. The knowledge terrified her almost as much as the brutality she’d just witnessed.
The killer stepped back, his eyes skimming the area, a predator hungry for a kill. Mattie instinctively sank closer to the ground.
“Check the van!” he shouted to the other three men. “Find the scientist. I want her alive!”
Knowing she would be discovered within minutes if she didn’t get out of there, she frantically looked around. But there was no place to run. No place to hide. Oh dear God what now?
The ravine offered her only route of escape. It was steep and rocky and as black as an abyss, but if she wanted to live she was going to have to risk it. Silently she slithered on her belly to the edge of the cliff.
“There are tracks here!” came a gruff male voice scant yards behind her.
“Spread out!” came the killer’s voice. “I want her found!”
Gripping an exposed root, Mattie slid over the ledge. Her feet dangled. She could hear rocks falling below. Saying a silent prayer, she let go of the root and tumbled into space.
Chapter One
Sean Cutter knew from experience that good news never came in the dead of night. For an instant he considered not answering his cell phone.
“Cutter,” he growled.
“It’s Martin.”
Uneasy surprise rippled through him at the sound of his former superior’s voice. Martin Wolfe was CIA and at the very top of the agency food chain. At one time the two men had been friends, but that friendship had ended a year ago when Cutter walked away from a career he’d invested twelve years of his life in. A fact that made this call at two o’clock in the morning all the more ominous.
“Why in the bloody hell are you calling me at this hour?” Cutter snapped. But he’d always known the call would come. He’d known one day they would want him back, that he wouldn’t be able to refuse.
“The Jaguar is in the country,” Wolfe said.
The name slammed into Cutter like a fist. For several interminable seconds he couldn’t speak.
“You there?”
Shaking himself mentally, Cutter sat up, threw his legs over the side of the bed. “Talk to me.”
“I got three dead U.S. Marshals and a missing Defense Department scientist. The Jaguar wants the scientist.”
Cutter got a bad feeling in the pit of his stomach. “Why?”
“She was the brain behind the EDNA Project.”
The situation solidified in a terrible rush. The EDNA Project was a top-secret weapons program funded by the Department of Defense. Though his knowledge of the weapon itself was limited, he knew DOD had been developing a new generation of weapons. A technology The Jaguar would do anything to obtain. If he got his hands on the scientist, he would possess a weapon the likes of which mankind had never seen.
“Martin, I’ve been out of the CIA for two year—”
“I need you back, Sean. I don’t have to tell you what this son of a bitch is capable of.”
Cutter knew exactly what The Jaguar was capable of. He had the scars to prove it. And even after two years, he still had the nightmares…
“If he gets his hands on EDNA, every city in the world will be at risk of being incinerated. We can’t let that happen.”
Cutter closed his eyes, the gravity of the situation sinking in. “Why me?”
“Because you know The Jaguar better than anyone. You’ve got the training. The experience.”
The killer instinct, Cutter thought darkly and felt a little sick. After what happened on his last mission, he’d sworn never again…
A refusal teetered on his lips, but he didn’t voice it. Sean Cutter might have walked away from his career, but he never walked away from duty. Not even when he knew it could probably kill him.
“I want you to find the scientist before The Jaguar does, and bring her in.”
It seemed a simple assignment on the surface. But Cutter knew there was more. With Martin Wolfe, there was always more. “What else?”
“I want you to bring The Jaguar in this time, Sean. Homeland Security has given me forty-eight hours to get this done. After that I have to take this public. Bring in local law enforcement and FBI.”
“And if The Jaguar gets to her before I do?”
“You have the authority to do whatever it takes to make sure she doesn’t talk.”
“What are you saying, Martin?”
“I’m saying she’s expendable. If the situation boils down to her life or the population of Los Angeles or New York or Houston, I want you to take her out.”
Cutter closed his eyes, dread seeping from every pore like fear sweat.
“I’ll catch the next flight out.”
“I’ve got a Lear waiting.”
“Pretty damn sure of yourself, aren’t you?”
“No, but I am sure of you.”
If only you knew, Cutter thought, and disconnected.
He sat down hard on the bed, dread roiling in his gut. Putting his face in his hands, he tried not to think about what he’d done.
IN THE PREDAWN DARKNESS, Mattie took the trail at a reckless speed. The cuffs binding her hands hindered, but she didn’t slow down. Her labored breaths echoed against the canyon walls. A cold wind swept through the gorge, whipping the trees into a frenzy.
She’d been running for what seemed like hours. She didn’t know where she was or where she was going, raw panic driving her forward. All she knew was if she stopped she would die.
She couldn’t believe her life had come to this. One short year ago she’d been living comfortably in a Washington, D.C., suburb. She’d driven her little blue Jetta to work every morning. She’d been happy. Challenged by her work. And falling for her attractive coworker, Daniel Savage. Everything had come to a grinding halt the day two grim-faced CIA agents walked into her office and arrested her for treason.
Treason.
Even now the insanity of the charge still stunned her. Overhead a spear of lightning split the sky. Mattie ducked reflexively but she didn’t slow her pace. She knew it would take a miracle, but if she could reach a phone, she could call Daniel. He would know what to do. He would help her if she asked, even if it meant risking his own reputation to do it. All she had to do was find a house or passing motorist.
Something rustled in the brush to her right. Biting back a cry, Mattie veered left. Don’t stop! the little voice inside her head chanted. Don’t look behind you!
The shadow of a man appeared seemingly out of nowhere and lunged at her. She pivoted, trying to scramble away. But she wasn’t fast enough, and a hard body plowed into her with the force of a Sherman tank.
Mattie had expected claws and teeth or maybe an expedient shot to the head. Instead, strong arms clamped around her like a vise and tackled her to the ground. Spitting dirt, she rolled and lashed out with both feet. Satisfaction flicked in her brain when her assailant grunted. The next thing she knew he was on top of her. With her arms bound she could not defend herself.
“Get off me!” she shouted.
She caught a glimpse of dark eyes. She felt the tremendous force of his strength, and her only thought was that these were the last moments of her life.
“If you want to live you’ll be quiet.”
Mattie barely heard the rough whisper over the wild pounding of her heart. She tried to twist away, but he was heavy and strong, pinning her with ease.
“What do you—”
A hand slapped over her mouth, cutting her words short. “Shh.”
Mattie stilled, and for an instant the only sound came from their labored breaths and the tinkle of sleet against dry leaves. Blinking hair from her eyes, she looked up, found herself staring into icy, blue eyes.
“There are four heavily armed men less than two hundred yards away,” he said in a low voice. “Make another sound and they’ll kill us both. Do you understand?”
For an instant the sense of helplessness and terror nearly overwhelmed her. But Mattie could tell by the look in his eyes that if he wanted her dead, he would have already done it.
She jerked her head. Never taking his eyes from hers, he removed his hand from her mouth and put his finger to his lips. His eyes scanned the surrounding darkness. Reaching out, he grasped the base of a long-dead bush and dragged it over them. The bush was large and full and in the semidarkness would cover them completely.
He turned to her and looked into her eyes, his expression tense. He was lying squarely on top of her with some of his weight on his elbows. “Don’t move,” he whispered. “I’m not going to hurt you.”
His body was rock hard, his muscles taut. At some point during the struggle her legs had opened, and he was lying between her knees, pressed intimately against her. He was no longer breathing hard, but she was.
“The tracks end here!” A heavily accented voice cut through the night like a blade.
“She’s using the stream to hide her tracks.” Another voice. Frighteningly near.
“We should have had her by now. We’re running out of time.”
Mattie listened, praying they wouldn’t be discovered when she saw a pair of boots and the butt of a semiautomatic rifle a few yards to her right. He was standing so close she could smell the stench of his sweat. Her breaths grew rapid and shallow.
“We’re safe,” the man lying on top of her whispered. “Just calm down.”
In the last hours she’d seen too much violence to keep a handle on the fear barreling through her. She could feel her entire body vibrating as a fresh wave of panic engulfed her. She began to hyperventilate. Her face and hands were tingling. If she didn’t get a grip, she was going to give away their hiding place and get them both killed.
Dry grass crunched as one of the killers drew closer. For a terrible instant Mattie thought he’d heard her panicked breathing. She imagined him raising the rifle and shooting them the same way he’d gunned down the three marshals. The urge to jump to her feet and run was strong. She could feel her muscles twitching as the flight instinct kicked in.
“Easy,” the man lying on top of her whispered. “Slow, deep breaths.”
But Mattie was beyond hearing, beyond logic. She tried breathing through her nose, but she could no more slow her breathing than a marathon runner who’d just run ten miles.
Grass and leaves rustled nearby and she knew one of the men was approaching. This is it, she thought. I’ve given away our hiding place and now they’re going to kill us.
The man on top of her shifted, and suddenly she was aware of the way his body fit against hers. Surprising her, he set his hands on either side of her face. His palms were warm and amazingly gentle as he brushed back the hair from her face. Mattie looked into the startling blue of his eyes. And even though the threat of death was so close she could feel the cold scrape of it against her spine, her only thought was that no man had ever looked at her the way this man did.
“What are you doing?” she asked.
“Saving our lives,” he said and lowered his mouth to hers.
CUTTER CONSIDERED HIMSELF a master of improvisation. He possessed an uncanny talent for making the best of a bad situation and the ability to adapt to current conditions. They were traits that made him the best of the best. At the moment, kissing this woman seemed like the most expedient way to keep her from getting both of them killed.
He hadn’t expected to get caught up in the softness of her mouth. Sean Cutter didn’t get caught up in anything, especially when it came to his job. But that was exactly what happened when his mouth made contact with hers.
She tried to turn her head, but he caught her cheek with his palm and deepened the kiss. She opened her mouth—to protest no doubt—and he seized the opportunity to take the kiss deeper. Another mistake, he thought dazedly, but by then he’d stopped counting.
Her mouth was warm and wet against his. Her body was curvy and soft and fit perfectly beneath him. He could feel the warmth of her quickened breaths against his cheek. And despite the fact that they were seconds away from being discovered by four men who would not hesitate to execute them, he found his body responding to hers.
He struggled to control the hot rush of blood to his groin, reminding himself of all the terrible things that could happen next. But her mouth was incredibly soft, her body a promise of all the things he’d denied himself for what felt like a lifetime. And while Cutter was a whiz at improvisation, he hadn’t a clue how to stanch good-old-fashioned sexual arousal—no matter how dangerous.
But the kiss was working. Slowly her body relaxed against his, and her breathing slowed. Cutter broke the kiss and for several agonizing minutes neither of them moved while the four killers smoked cigarettes and spoke in a language he was all too familiar with. If the woman could feel his erection against her, she gave no indication. She was probably too terrified to notice. He should be, too, considering they were inches away from getting shot. But Cutter had already faced the worst thing a man could face. He didn’t have a death wish, but not much truly scared him anymore.
After what seemed like an eternity, the men moved on. Cutter lay on top of his prisoner for several more minutes, listening to the men’s retreat. Once he deemed it safe, he tossed the bush aside and rose.
“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” Glaring at him, the woman sat up and with cuffed hands brushed at the leaves and dust on her clothes.
“Saving your life.”
A twig was sticking out of her hair. She was still wearing the slacks and jacket she’d worn to court. Both knees of her slacks were torn. The top button of her blouse had popped off at some point and he could see the lacy outline of her bra. Damn.
“You had no right to…to—”
“You were hyperventilating. If I hadn’t done something, you would have gotten both of us killed.”
Even in the semidarkness, he saw her pale. “Who are you?”
“I’m the man who’s going to take you back. For now, that’s all you need to know.”
“I don’t want to go back.”
He jabbed a thumb in the direction of where the four men had disappeared. “Maybe you’d rather take your chances with those cutthroats.”
“I’m innocent.”
Cutter couldn’t help it. He laughed. “Yeah, so am I.” Bending, he grasped her bicep to help her up.
“I’m not going anywhere with you,” she said as she got to her feet.
“Here’s a newsflash for you, blondie. You don’t have a say in the matter.”
Of their own accord, his eyes did a quick sweep down the front of her. Even though her suit was rumpled and torn, he could see that she was slender and willowy and built just the way he liked. Her hands were cuffed, accentuating curves he had no right noticing at a time like this.
He removed the master key from his belt. “Give me your wrists.”
She blinked. “You’re uncuffing me?”
“We need to move quickly before those bozos realize they fell for the oldest trick in the book.” He glanced up at the sky. Storm clouds were billowing to the northwest. The weather had been an issue during his briefing in the Lear jet that had taken him from Chicago to a small airport in Kalispell, Montana. A cold front chock-full of nasty precipitation was barreling down from the Canadian border. Cutter figured they had another hour before the skies opened up. Hopefully, enough time to make it to the rendezvous point where the agency had a chopper waiting.
She offered her wrists. “Who were those men?”
“Old friends of yours, no doubt.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
But a tremor went through her as he removed the cuffs. A shiver that didn’t have anything to do with the cold and told him she knew exactly what he was talking about. “Save it for your appeal,” he snapped, and shoved the cuffs into a compartment in his belt.
She turned to him, her eyes wide and beseeching. “I don’t know those men. And I didn’t do anything wrong.”
Another laugh squeezed from his throat, only this time it was bitter. “You sold out your country. As far as I’m concerned that puts you on the same level as those animals searching for you.”
As a man who had dedicated most of his adult life to protecting the country he loved, the thought of someone selling out for the likes of money disgusted him beyond words.
The problem was Mattie Logan didn’t look like a traitor. Blue eyed and blond haired, she looked wholesome and kind. But Cutter knew all too well that looks could be deceiving. Mattie Logan might look like the girl next door, but a traitor lay beneath the innocent facade. Remembering the way his body had reacted to her just a few short minutes earlier, he silently reprimanded himself for his weakness and vowed not to let himself be taken in again.
“I didn’t do any of what they accused me of,” she said.
“I don’t care.” And he didn’t. Not one iota. All he cared about at the moment was getting her to the chopper-pick-up location an hour to the south. “Let’s go.”
“Please,” she said. “You have to believe me.”
“I don’t have to do squat.”
“I would never compromise EDNA. That project was the greatest achievement of my career. I safeguarded it with my life.”
Cutter didn’t know the details of her case. All he knew was that she’d been found guilty of treason in a court of law. He trusted the justice system. It was his job to take her back. Black and white, just the way he liked it. Then he could move on to the most challenging phase of his mission: finding The Jaguar and bringing him to justice.
“Someone framed me,” she said. “It’s the only explanation.”
“If you don’t start walking, I’m going to put the cuffs back on and drag you down that trail.”
Rubbing her wrists where bruises had formed, she turned and started walking. “Don’t you care about justice?”
“Justice for whom?” Cutter usually didn’t indulge his prisoners in conversation, but her denials were beginning to annoy him. “The millions of people you endangered by selling EDNA? Did you happen to think about that?”
She started to turn and face him, but Cutter reached out and stopped her by grasping her arm. He wanted to believe he’d kept her moving because he was in a hurry to get to the rendezvous point. But deep inside he acknowledged that he did not want to look into those pretty blue eyes and know what she was. Beauty and evil just did not go together.
“I meant what I said about dragging you,” he warned.
“Please. I can’t go to prison for a crime I didn’t commit. You have to listen to me.”
“Do you have any idea how many times I’ve heard that?”
“It’s the truth! I’m innocent!”
“Take it up with the courts, sweetheart. Right now you have a date with a chopper, and come hell or high water I’m going to make sure you don’t miss it.”
Chapter Two
Dawn broke with a monochromatic sky and the tinkle of sleet against the ground. In the distance thunder rumbled menacingly. The hopelessness of her situation pressed down on Mattie like a lead weight as she made her way down the rugged trail. The last thing she wanted to do was get on that chopper and be transported to prison, but she knew if she tried to make a run for it, the man who’d apprehended her would stop her.
Mattie Logan, you are hereby sentenced to life in prison.
The words echoed until she thought she would scream with the injustice of them. But what could she do? Run? Convince this hard-nosed man she was innocent? Neither option seemed realistic.
“This is Delta Ringo One to Eagle. Do you read?”
Her captor’s voice drew her from her reverie. Mattie turned to see him speak into his radio.
“That’s affirm, Delta.” A voice crackled on the other end.
“I’ve got the package.”
“Roger that.”
“What’s your twenty on the rendezvous?”
“Coordinates two five three point one. What’s your ETA?”
The man punched numbers into a small device. “Ten minutes.”
It was the first time she’d had the chance to study him. He was lean and tall with an expression that told her he was serious about what he did. Wearing faded jeans, high-end hiking boots and a flannel shirt over a turtleneck, he didn’t look like any cop she’d ever seen. There was something dangerous about him that had nothing to do with some badge or even the semiautomatic pistol strapped to his hip. Something unpredictable that warned her not to cross him. But Mattie knew if she wanted to clear her name, crossing him was a calculated risk she was going to have to take.
“Be advised we have heavy weather coming in,” the voice barked from the radio.
“Time frame?”
“Front’s here, Delta. Get your butt in gear.”
“Roger that.” Frowning, he shoved the radio and hand-held device into his backpack and shot her with a dark look. “You heard the man, blondie. Let’s pick up the pace.”
For a crazy instant she considered making a run for it. Now that her hands were free, she would be able to run unencumbered. With a storm approaching, maybe her captor would be forced to return to the chopper without her. She envisioned herself barreling down the ravine to her left. If she could reach the stream…
“Don’t even think about it.”
Mattie glanced at him. Fifteen feet separated them. Not much of a head start, but suddenly she knew this moment would probably be her last chance for escape.
“I can’t go back,” she said.
“Don’t do anything stupid.”
“I know you don’t believe me, but I’m innocent. I swear on my life. All I need is the chance to prove it.”
“You’re not going to get the chance out here in the middle of nowhere.”
It’s now or never…
Mattie broke into a sprint toward the stream at the base of the ravine. She crashed through the brush, veered left to avoid a stand of sapling pines. She could hear his occasional curse behind her as his heavy boots pounded the ground. She ran as she had never run before, hurdling over fallen logs and rocks the size of basketballs. Her only thought was that if he caught her, her life would be over.
The next thing she knew, his strong arms were wrapped around her from behind. She screamed as he dragged her down. She fell hard on her stomach, twisted and lashed out with both feet.
He grunted when her heel caught his chin. She saw his head snap back, caught a glimpse of his angry eyes and a slash of blood where her heel had cut him.
“Stop resisting!” he growled.
But Mattie was fighting for her life. She’d been locked up for four months like an animal for an unspeakable crime she hadn’t committed. Her only hope of salvaging her life was escape. She’d decided a long time ago that she would rather die than spend the rest of her life in a cage.
But he was incredibly strong. An animal sound tore from her throat as he pinned her to the ground. He was sitting on her abdomen, his hands manacling her wrists above her head.
“Pull yourself together,” he snapped.
“I’m not going with you,” Mattie panted.
“You don’t have a say in the matter.”
Helplessness and impotent rage burned through her. To her horror, tears welled. Humiliated, Mattie tried to turn away, but he held her flat.
“You’ve left me no choice but to cuff you,” he said.
Mattie hated the cuffs; they made her feel like a criminal. He snapped the nylon restraints into place—in front—which made them marginally more comfortable.
He rose and helped her to her feet. “If you have a beef with the verdict, you’ve got to handle it through the courts. Not out here. There’s a dangerous storm on the way and four killers who will stop at nothing to get whatever secrets you have locked inside your head. Do you understand?”
“What I understand,” she said in a trembling voice, “is that neither justice nor my life means anything to you.”
He studied her as if she were a puzzle missing a vital piece, then he motioned toward the trail. “When we get to the chopper I’ll clean up that cut on your temple.”
The cut was so inconsequential when her life was destroyed that Mattie choked back a hysterical laugh. “Like that’s going to make everything all better.”
“Lady, I’m just doing my job the best way I know how. If you’re as smart as your file claims you are, you’ll make it easier on both of us and cooperate.”
“I will play no role in the ruination of my life.”
“You should have thought about that before you got involved with those thugs.” He jammed his thumb in the direction from which they’d come. “If those bastards get their hands on you, you will find out the true meaning of brutality.”
“I’d rather die than spend the rest of my life in prison.”
“Keep it up and you’ll get your wish.” He looked at his watch. “Now let’s move out.”
He set a grueling pace as they trekked toward the pick-up location. Mattie felt as if she were walking toward the firing squad. She couldn’t believe she’d blown her only chance of escape.
Within minutes, the Whop! Whop! Whop! of the chopper’s rotor blades rent the air. Through the trees she spotted the large craft perched on a rocky ridge in a clearing. The fuselage was yellow with black lettering.
They were twenty yards away when a man in khaki pants and a parka opened the chopper’s hatch and stepped out. “About damn time,” he said, his eyes going from her captor to her and lingering.
Mattie looked away, wondering if this would be the last time she saw trees, the last time she breathed in mountain air and freedom.
“She give you any problems?” the man asked.
Her captor gave her a measuring look. “None I couldn’t handle.”
“Get her in the chopper. Pilot’s RTG. Let’s see if we can beat this cold front.”
Her captor took her arm and led her toward the chopper. She was about to step inside when a gunshot stopped her dead in her tracks. She spun to see the man in khakis crumple to the ground.
“Holy hell! Rusty!”
Her captor went for his weapon, but he wasn’t fast enough. A third man in a flight suit emerged from the chopper leveling a deadly looking weapon at her captor’s chest.
“Drop the gun, Cutter, or I swear you’ll join him.”
THERE WAS NOTHING Sean Cutter hated more than a traitor. That deep-seated hatred boiled inside him as he stared at the CIA chopper pilot he’d known and trusted for the better part of his professional life.
“What the hell are you doing, Meeks?”
“What do you think?” Grimacing, the pilot jumped from the chopper to the ground, his eyes flashing from Cutter to Mattie.
“I think you’re selling your soul,” Cutter said.
“What can I say? They pay better than Uncle Sam.” Meeks crossed to Mattie and licked his lips. She cringed when he ran a fingertip from her chin, down her neck to her shoulder. “I don’t know why The Jaguar wants you so badly, but he made me an offer I couldn’t refuse.”
“How much?” Cutter asked.
“A million and change.”
“Generous.”
“I thought so. A hell of a lot more than a CIA pilot will ever see in his lifetime.”
“Too bad you won’t live to spend it.” Cutter edged closer, but Meeks smiled and set his finger against the trigger. “Don’t get any closer, Sean. You know I’ll put a bullet in you.”
Cutter glanced down at the man lying on the ground in a widening pool of blood. “Evidently you don’t have any qualms about taking out one of your own.”
“Not one of my own. I’m a free agent now.”
“You’re a coward and a traitor.”
The pilot smiled. “But very rich.”
“So tell me, Meeks. How does this work? You kill two federal agents and deliver a DOD scientist to a terrorist group? You think they’re really going to pay you?”
“I’ve already got half of it.”
“And you think the CIA is going to walk away and let you live happily ever after?”
“I’ll be able to afford to get lost anywhere in the world.”
“There’s no place remote enough on this earth that will keep the CIA from finding you.”
“Unless they think I’m dead.” His eyes flicked to the pistol at Sean’s hip. “Give me your weapon, GPS unit and radio.”
When Cutter hesitated, the other man pulled back the slide on the weapon. “Do it or I’ll take out your kneecaps first.”
Hoping to buy time, Cutter pulled the radio and GPS unit from his belt and tossed both to the ground.
Meeks stepped forward and crushed the radio beneath his boot. “The gun, too, Cutter. Stop wasting my time.”
Relinquishing his weapon was the one thing Cutter would not do. He knew Meeks was going to kill him, then deliver this scientist to a dangerous terrorist cell. If he wanted to prevent both of those things from happening he was going to have to make a move.
Putting his hand on his weapon, he stepped closer. “You son of a bitch.”
Cutter’s nerves jigged when the other man shifted the gun to his chest. “Nice and slow. The gun. Now.”
Cutter went for his weapon, brought up the muzzle. But he wasn’t fast enough. The other man fired. The bullet struck him in the chest like a baseball bat slamming in a homerun. The breath left his lungs in a sound that was half roar, half curse. He reeled backward, lost his footing. The next thing he knew his back hit the ground. Pain radiated through his chest. He couldn’t move. Couldn’t breathe. Dizziness descended like a fast-acting narcotic.
Through the haze of pain Cutter was aware of the pilot pointing the weapon at the woman. “Get in the chopper, bitch.”
Cutter felt himself fading in and out of consciousness. But there was no way he could let Meeks fly out with Mattie Logan in tow. She was a walking time bomb. If The Jaguar got his hands on her, the world would pay a terrible price.
He tried to sit up, but searing pain sent him back down. He tried to draw a breath, succeeded only in making an undignified sound. Damn. He hadn’t wanted things to end this way…
He was wondering how the situation could get any worse when four men wielding semiautomatic rifles stormed the clearing.
SHE WAS GOING TO DIE. If not by the hand of the pilot, then certainly by one of the gunmen. Two minutes ago her biggest concern had been clearing her name. Now, at the mercy of five brutal killers, she figured she’d be lucky to walk away in one piece.
Mattie couldn’t take her eyes off the man called Cutter as he lay on the ground a few feet away. A crimson stain the size of a saucer bloomed on his shirt. She hadn’t wanted to go back with him, but she certainly hadn’t wanted to see him shot down like an animal.
She stood frozen, her heart pounding wildly as the four men verged on the pilot. The leader of the group was a thin man of average height. His coal-black hair was swept back from a high forehead. Eyes the color of midnight swept from the man on the ground, to Mattie.
“I see you are a man of your word,” he said to the pilot.
“Signed, sealed and delivered,” the pilot replied.
The man’s black eyes swept down the front of her. “You are not what I expected.”
“I don’t know anything,” she blurted.
Sick amusement danced in his eyes. “What you know remains to be seen, doesn’t it?”
She jolted when he raised his hand and brushed her jaw with his knuckle. “It makes no difference to me if you are a woman or a man. One way or another, you will tell me everything you know about the final phase of EDNA or I will hurt you in ways you could never imagine.”
She believed him. And suddenly she was very sorry the man who’d come to take her back was lying on the ground, dying.
The terrorist motioned toward the fallen agent. “What happened?”
“He made a move.” The pilot shrugged. “I had to take him out.”
“I told you I wanted him alive. Sean Cutter and I have unfinished business.”
“He didn’t give me a choice.”
The other man’s expression darkened, but he said nothing.
The pilot glanced toward dark clouds roiling on the horizon. “Look, there’s a storm moving in. Pay me that last half of the money and I’ll drop you and your associates wherever you need to go. But we’ve got to move now or else risk getting stranded on this godforsaken mountain.”
For the first time Mattie realized that in the last few minutes the wind had picked up. Snow mixed with sleet was swirling around the treetops. A thin layer already covered the ground.
She knew these men were going to kill her. The ringleader had all but promised to torture her for information about EDNA. Once they got what they wanted from her, she would be expendable. A chill that had nothing to do with the cold snaked through her at the thought of the horrors she faced in the coming hours….
“Get in the chopper,” the ringleader said to his men.
“I can take you as far as Canada,” the pilot said as they started toward the hatch.
“Excellent,” the terrorist said. “Let’s go.”
As the pilot stepped into the craft, the terrorist raised his handgun and fired a single shot. Blood spattered the yellow fuselage. The pilot pitched forward and landed on the ground with a thud.
“That’s for killing Sean Cutter,” the terrorist muttered.
Horror and disbelief pummeled her like fists. Another man dead. All because these men wanted the plans for the final phase of EDNA….
She wondered how long she would hold up under torture. She wondered how terrible it would be. And in that instant she decided there was no way she could let them take her alive.
“Fire!”
Mattie glanced toward the chopper to see black smoke billowing from its fuselage. Surprised shouts erupted all around her. The men scrambled from the craft. “Grab the extinguisher!” one of them shouted.
“Watch the woman!”
“The fire is coming from the engine! Quickly, put it out!”
Run!
The flight instinct kicked in with a vengeance. Refusing to think of repercussions, she spun away from the chopper and literally ran for her life.
She darted across the clearing to the forest, her feet barely seeming to touch the ground. She scrambled over the trunk of a fallen tree, through brush that tore at her slacks. She knew they would catch her; there was no way she could elude four men with guns. But terror and adrenaline were driving her, not logic.
Shouts erupted as she fled. She heard her pursuers behind her, following her, breaking through brush. Praying for a miracle, she glanced over her shoulder toward the place where the man called Cutter had fallen.
But he was gone.
Chapter Three
Cutter was no stranger to pain. While the Kevlar vest had saved his life, it hadn’t prevented the bullet from doing a number on his ribs. The vial of fake blood had helped fool them into believing he was mortally wounded, giving him the chance to start the engine fire as a diversion. But with no weapon, no radio, and four well-armed killers to deal with, staying alive would surely prove to be a tad more difficult.
But it was Mattie Logan who was foremost in his mind as he hurried down the deer trail in search of her. He could hear the men shouting in the distance and knew it would be only a matter of time before they caught up with her. Within minutes of capturing her they would load her onto the chopper and cross the border into Canada. He had no intention of letting that happen.
He turned right at a jut of rock and poured on the speed. Agony tore through his chest with every breath, but he didn’t slow down. He didn’t let himself think about the pain or the odds he faced. He had to find Logan before the terrorists did….
Operating on little more than animal instinct, he ran toward the tall, dense piñon pines. Logan had fled southwest. If he held his direction, he would intercept her. Hopefully before the others did. But Cutter knew finding her wasn’t the toughest challenge he faced. The hard part was going to be getting out of there without getting shot….
The sound of footsteps sent him diving for cover in a blanket of juniper. Peering through the foliage, he caught a glimpse of blond hair and pale skin. He heard the hiss of panicked breaths rushing through clenched teeth.
Logan.
He caught her arm as she passed. Carried by the momentum of her sprint, she stumbled and nearly fell, but Cutter caught her. He slapped a hand over her mouth, catching the scream that would have revealed their position. He felt an impression of soft skin and small bones within his grasp. The hint of lemon and rosemary in silky hair as she swung around. But all of those things were punctuated by panic and terror. A dangerous state if he didn’t gain control of the situation pronto.
No time to take her to the ground and subdue her. No time for an explanation. For an instant, she fought back like an animal snared in the deadly teeth of a steel trap. He made eye contact and gave her a hard shake. “If you want to live, come with me,” he said in a low voice.
She went still and blinked at him as if waking from a bad dream. “I…I thought you were d-dead.”
“So did they, evidently.” He looked over his shoulder. “Let’s go.”
“How do I know I can trust you?”
“You don’t,” he said and hauled her into a dead run.
A DEAD MAN had saved her life.
It was the only thought Mattie’s brain could manage. She didn’t know how, but somehow Cutter had survived a gunshot to the chest. Though at the moment, running from men bent on killing them, she didn’t necessarily care.
Snow and sleet blinded her as she ran. It took every ounce of physical ability she possessed to keep up with Cutter and maintain her footing. One tiny miscalculation and she would fall—a mistake that would surely prove deadly.
It felt as if they had been running forever. Every muscle in her body ached with exhaustion. Mattie didn’t know how she kept going. The primal will to live.
“Whoa. Easy.”
She felt a hard tug on her hand. Cutter was pulling her back, slowing her down.
“Can’t…stop,” she panted.
“It’s okay.”
“They’ll kill us.”
“I’m not going to let them kill anyone.”
Mattie looked over her shoulder, but the trail they’d just traveled was deserted. She listened for footsteps, but the only sound came from their labored breathing and the soft thud of sleet against the ground.
Giving her a look that told her he was too damn beat to give chase if she decided to take off, Cutter released her, then bent at the hip to gulp air. “We need to rest, catch our breath.”
Mattie thought about running, but her legs had evidently decided they’d had enough exertion for one day. When she started to walk away, her knees buckled. She fell forward onto her hands and knees, and for a moment she could do nothing but breathe.
“Take a moment to catch your breath. Then we’ve got to keep moving.”
Mattie raised her head and glared at him. “It’s going to take a lot longer than a moment for me to catch my breath.”
They’d stopped in a small clearing. The boughs of the piñon pines were covered with snow. Mattie wondered if they’d gained elevation. If that was why it seemed colder, the air thinner and more difficult to breathe.
“Come on.” Cutter crossed to her and extended his hand. “Time to go.”
Mattie considered refusing his hand. But she wasn’t sure she could rise on her own, so she reached for him. “Back at the chopper, how did you manage the fire?”
“I didn’t.” He pulled her to her feet. “What you saw was a smoke grenade. A diversion.”
No, she thought. He was no ordinary cop. But if he wasn’t a cop what agency was he with? CIA? Homeland Security? She wondered why he had been sent to take her back. Why not local law enforcement? Why not the FBI or the U.S. Marshals Service.
“Who are you?” she asked.
“I’m the man who’s going to keep you alive.” His icy blue eyes burned into hers. “Right now, that’s all you need to know.”
THE SON OF A BITCH had beaten him at his own game once again.
The Jaguar paced the snow-covered ground with the sleek elegance of his namesake. Dark anticipation and a keen sense of unfinished business had him feeling restless and edgy. Not only was Sean Cutter alive, but he was psychologically and physically sound and working for the CIA again. That more than anything surprised The Jaguar. By all rights, the man should be dead. At the very least he should be locked in a padded cell.
He and the federal agent went way back, but their relationship was far from amicable. Cutter was the only man The Jaguar had not been able to break. Even under torture, the agent had maintained his silence. He’d defied a black art form The Jaguar had made his business and built a reputation upon. The sense of failure had nagged at him for two years. This time, he would make certain Sean Cutter talked, then was tortured and killed.
Bracing himself against the cold north wind, The Jaguar lit a cigarette and walked to the chopper, where two of his men were working on the engine.
“What is the status?” he asked.
“Operable.”
“Excellent.”
“The smoke was evidently from a smoke grenade and did little damage to the engine.”
A diversion, he thought. How very like Sean Cutter… Hatred churned inside him. He looked up at the swirling snow, felt the dark anticipation stir. “Is the chopper equipped with infrared?”
The other man smiled. “The American government spares no expense when it comes to hunting down those who would question their absolute power.”
The Jaguar nodded. “I want the scientist and Sean Cutter. I want them alive. And I want them now.”
“The weather could be a problem.”
He turned his gaze on the other man. “The last man who questioned my wishes lasted for fourteen hours in my torture chamber. When I tired of his screams I shot him. Perhaps you want to test your endurance?”
The other man looked away, his Adam’s apple bobbing twice in quick succession. “I am merely looking out for your safety.”
“That would best be done once we’re airborne.”
“I understand.”
The Jaguar scanned the rugged countryside, feeling an uncomfortable urgency to finish what should already have been done. “They couldn’t have gotten far.”
“Not on foot and in this weather. They have no gear. No weapon or radio.”
The Jaguar said nothing. But he knew the other man underestimated Sean Cutter. He himself had underestimated the federal agent two years ago. He would not make the same mistake twice.
CUTTER HAD NO PROBLEM with risking his life for the safety and security of the American people. What he didn’t like was the idea of risking his life for the likes of a traitor like Mattie Logan. He had zero tolerance for anyone low enough to betray their country.
She might look like an angel with her wide eyes and porcelain skin; she might even be one of the most stunning women he’d ever laid eyes on. But physical beauty made no difference to Cutter when it came to treachery.
He stared at her, keenly aware of her proximity, that she smelled good, that her complexion was as pale and flawless as a child’s. But there was nothing even remotely childlike about the rest of her. Her eyes were deep and blue and filled with a woman’s secrets. Within their depths he saw the remnants of terror and a jumble of emotions held on a taut rein. Her blond hair was pulled into a ponytail, but several strands had fallen free to frame her face. Strands his fingers itched to brush aside.
She possessed the kind of beauty that blinded a man. The kind of sexual appeal that made even a smart man do stupid things. All for the sound of her laughter or the promise of a touch. An element that made her every bit as dangerous as the terrorists aiming to kill them.
Ignoring the uncomfortable tug of something he didn’t want to identify, Cutter turned away. “Let’s move. Chances are they’re going to use the chopper to search for us.”
“But won’t the storm ground them?”
“It would if we were dealing with a sane person.” He shot her a sober look. “In case you’re not reading between the lines here, we’re not.”
“But they don’t have a pilot. They shot him.”
Impatient with her questions, he took her hand and pulled her into a jog. “The Jaguar wouldn’t have shot him if he didn’t have a backup pilot.”
“The Jaguar?”
He hadn’t meant to say the name aloud. Just hearing it sent a chill up his spine. Even after two years he could recall what it had been like to be helpless and hurting and look into the other man’s eyes and see pure evil.
“Stop talking and start moving,” he snapped. “Faster.”
She complied, but Cutter knew there was little chance of them outdistancing The Jaguar’s men. The terrorist surrounded himself with the most brutal men in the world. Men who would risk it all to advance whatever twisted beliefs had transformed them into terrorists.
Cutter had been in worse situations and still come out alive. But with a storm moving in and killers hot on their trail, survival seemed a long shot at best.
“Where are we going?”
He glanced over at his prisoner. She had snow in her hair. It clung to her thick eyelashes. Her cheeks were pink with cold, her eyes bright with fear. He wished she wasn’t so damn good to look at. The last thing he needed was a distraction….
“Right now we’re just trying to put some distance between us and those bastards with guns,” he said.
She was starting to breathe hard again. The way a woman did when she was in the throes of lovemaking. The image of her with her head thrown back, her body welcoming his, flashed unbidden in his mind’s eye. He imagined his hands on her body, her breaths coming short and fast as he worked her toward release….
Shoving the image aside, he picked up the pace. “Faster,” he said.
She struggled to keep up. “You never told me what agency you’re working for.”
“No, I didn’t.”
“I like to know who I’m dealing with.”
“All you need to know is that I’m the man who’s going to save your life.”
“The way I see it, you’re the man who’s going to make sure I spend the rest of my life in prison for a crime I didn’t commit.”
“Save it for the judge, blondie.”
“The judge has already made his decision. A decision based on lies and planted evidence.”
“You got caught,” he snapped. “Deal with it, because you’re not going to get any sympathy from me. Got it?”
“What I got is railroaded. I can prove it, but not from inside a prison cell.”
“There are young men and women risking their lives every day to keep this country safe,” he snarled. “I don’t have any compassion for turncoats, so cut it out.”
For several minutes the only sound came from the pounding of their feet against the earth.
“You want to know what’s really frightening about all of this?” she asked.
“You have no idea what’s really frightening,” he said bitterly.
“The real culprit is still out there. They probably have access to the EDNA project. They’re probably trying to get their hands on the final-phase plans. And they’re probably still planning on selling the information when they do.”
Cutter stared hard at her, looking for the lie he knew was there. But the woman staring back at him had one of the most guileless faces he’d ever seen. He was not gullible when it came to female charms. Not by a long shot. But he could feel the draw to her. A draw that was part sexual, part…something else. Like a full moon pulling at a restless sea and causing a dangerously high tide.
Cutter was too smart to act on any of the crazy thoughts running through his head. He knew all too well what could happen when you mixed sex with an assignment. The last time he’d given in to temptation someone had ended up dead. He’d nearly been killed himself and had spent a good part of the next year wishing he hadn’t survived.
“Unless you want to end up dead,” he said, “you’ve got to keep moving.”
“Maybe that’s a better alternative to spending the rest of my life—”
His temper snapped. Stopping abruptly, he swung around to face her. Roughly he yanked her toward him so that her face was only inches from his. Close enough for him to smell the rosemary and lemon of her hair. He steeled himself against the sweet warmth of her breath against his face.
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Linda Castillo
MIDNIGHT IN MONTANAWhen a federal transport was ambushed and overturned in the wilds of Montana, MIDNIGHT agent Sean Cutter was given forty-eight hours to track down a desperate woman. But falsely accused, Mattie Logan didn't want to be saved. It was Sean's job to convince her otherwise.A former Department of Defense scientist now targeted by the terrorist known only as the Jaguar, Mattie couldn't risk betrayal again. But neither could Sean. Caught out in the blistering cold, Mattie sought shelter beneath Sean's broad shoulders, each needing the other's warmth to stay alive. But would trusting one another prove to be more difficult than clearing Mattie's name?
Don’t look behind you!
The shadow of a man appeared seemingly out of nowhere and lunged at her. She pivoted, trying to scramble away. But she wasn’t fast enough, and a hard body plowed into her with the force of a Sherman tank.
Strong arms clamped around her like a vise and tackled her to the ground. Spitting dirt, she rolled and lashed out with both feet. Satisfaction flicked in her brain when her assailant grunted. The next thing she knew he was on top of her. With her arms bound, she could not defend herself.
“Get off me!” she shouted.
She caught a glimpse of dark eyes. She felt the tremendous force of his strength, and her only thought was that these were the last moments of her life.
“If you want to live, you’ll be quiet.”
Operation: Midnight Guardian
Linda Castillo
www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Linda Castillo knew at a very young age that she wanted to be a writer—and penned her first novel at the age of thirteen. She is the winner of numerous writing awards, including the Holt Medallion, the Golden Heart, the Daphne du Maurier and received a nomination for the prestigious RITA
Award.
Linda loves writing edgy romantic suspense novels that push the envelope and take her readers on a rollercoaster ride of breathtaking romance and thrilling suspense. She resides in Texas with her husband, four lovable dogs and an Appaloosa named George. For a complete list of her books, check out her Web site at www.lindacastillo.com. Contact her at books@lindacastillo.com. Or write to her at P.O. Box 670501, Dallas, Texas 75367-0501.
CAST OF CHARACTERS
Sean Cutter—It is the mission of a lifetime: apprehend escaped prisoner Mattie Logan before a terrorist cell can retrieve the secrets locked inside her head. Will his heart survive an encounter with the angel-faced beauty?
Mattie Logan—A brilliant former Department of Defense scientist, did she sell her soul for the likes of money? Or was she framed by someone she trusted?
Daniel Savage—Is he an innocent Department of Defense coworker willing to risk his career to help Mattie? Or is he the man responsible for framing her?
The Jaguar—A cruel terrorist with a personal vendetta against Sean Cutter. He will do anything to obtain the secret locked inside Mattie Logan’s head. Will he get to her before Cutter?
Mike Madrid—He is the man Cutter calls when the going gets rough and lives are on the line. But is he willing to go the distance to save the life of an alleged traitor?
Martin Wolfe—He’s at the very top of the CIA food chain. He wants the Jaguar caught at any cost. But does he deem Mattie Logan expendable?
Contents
Prologue
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Prologue
The prison van swayed rhythmically as it barreled into the night, but Mattie Logan didn’t sleep. The judge’s final word rang like a death knell in her ears.
Guilty.
The verdict had been handed down eight hours earlier in the federal courthouse in Billings, Montana. She couldn’t believe she would be spending the rest of her life in prison. How in the name of God had this happened?
She’d asked herself that question a thousand times in the past four months. Four agonizing months spent in a prison cell the size of a bathroom. A cell where she’d come very close to losing her mind. The only thing that had kept her going was the promise of justice. The hope that truth would prevail. Eight hours ago that hope had been ripped from her desperate grasp, and she was left with nothing but a keen sense of impending doom.
Mattie Logan, you are hereby sentenced to life in prison.
When she shifted on the bench seat, the shackles on her ankles and wrists rattled. The U.S. Marshal sitting across from her glanced at her over the top of his magazine but didn’t offer to loosen the cuffs. Because of the nature of her alleged crime, she’d been deemed a high security risk. The term was laughable—or terrifying, depending on your point of view. Nonetheless, three U.S. Marshals had been assigned to transport her from Billings to a federal prison facility at an undisclosed location in Washington State.
Mattie gazed out the small window at the stark winter-dead trees silhouetted against a jagged horizon. They were traveling on a desolate stretch of highway somewhere in the mountains and heading west. The bleak scene reminded her of her life—cold and desolate—and at that moment she’d never felt more alone.
She leaned against the seat back and tried not to think. But her scientist’s mind was always at work. It was one of the reasons she’d been hired to work on the top-secret EDNA project at the Department of Defense.
If only she’d known….
A loud bang disrupted the silence. The van swerved violently, tossing her against the wall. Mattie looked over to see the young marshal rise, his expression alarmed, his hand going to his sidearm. Had a tire blown?
Then a second bang sounded. The van veered left, the force throwing Mattie to the floor. A few feet away the young marshal clutched the balance bar as he stumbled toward the cab, his eyes trained on the driver.
“Sam, what happened?” he shouted. “Sam!”
The driver didn’t answer. Through the windshield Mattie saw the headlights play wildly over brush and sapling trees. Fear cut through her when she realized the van was careening into a ravine.
A violent bump sent her two feet into the air. The marshal stumbled and fell but didn’t drop his radio. “Bravo Victor Two Niner. We got a code—”
His voice was cut off as the van pitched. Mattie caught a glimpse of the driver slumped over the wheel. Out the window, she saw sparks and debris spew high into the air. Another lurch tossed her to the opposite side of the van and sent the marshal sliding across the floor. The female marshal was shouting as she grappled for her radio.
The lights blinked out, plunging them into darkness. The floor tilted, and Mattie began to tumble. She tried to raise her arms to protect herself, but the cuffs and shackles hindered her. A sound that was part scream, part moan tore from her throat when her head snapped back, shattering glass.
Then suddenly the van was still. In total darkness Mattie lay on her back. Somewhere nearby steam hissed. The side door was now above her and stood open. Cold air poured in, embracing her with icy fingers. Beyond, a sliver of moon illuminated fast-moving storm clouds.
The female marshal called out. “Is everyone all right?”
“I think my leg’s broke,” came a weak voice.
“What the hell happened?” came a third.
“Logan? You okay?”
Mattie did a quick physical inventory. Her head hurt. Raising her hand, she touched her temple, felt the wetness of blood. “I’m cut.”
“Stay put.” One male marshal groaned as he rose.
“What about Sam?” the female marshal asked, referring to the driver.
Mattie looked toward the cab. By the light of the moon she could see that the driver was slumped across the seat at an odd angle.
“I’ll check.” One of the male marshals went to the driver.
“We’ve got an engine fire,” came another voice.
“Let’s get everyone out of the van.”
Mattie shoved herself to a sitting position and looked around. Through the cab window she saw the yellow flicker of flames coming from the engine. Somewhere in the van, the injured marshal groaned in pain.
The other male marshal came up beside her and squatted. “I’m going to take the shackles off your ankles so you can climb out.”
Still numb with shock, Mattie nodded. “Okay.”
Quickly he removed the shackles and tossed them aside. Leaving the handcuffs in place, he took her arm firmly and guided her toward the open door where the female agent was waiting. “Get the prisoner to a safe place and keep an eye on her. Get on the radio and get an ambulance and the local sheriff’s office here ASAP. I’m going to get Sam out in case the van blows.”
“Roger that.” The female marshal heaved herself through the open door, then leaned down and offered her hand to Mattie. “Come on.”
Mattie braced her feet on the seat back and let the woman pull her from the van. Cold night air engulfed her as she emerged. She smelled gasoline and smoke. Felt heat from the engine fire. The female marshal pointed to a fallen log several yards away. “Sit down and don’t move. You got that?”
On shaking legs Mattie stumbled over to the log and sat down hard. She didn’t know if it was from cold or shock, but she couldn’t seem to stop shaking. The van had ended up on its side thirty-five feet down a treacherously steep ravine. The interior lights were out, but a single dim headlight shot a beam through the darkness, exposing a cliff that surely would have killed all onboard had the van gone over.
The female marshal tugged her radio from her belt. “This is Bravo Victor Two Niner—”
A soft thwack! sounded. Startled by the sound, Mattie looked up in time to see the female marshal collapse. Concerned, she rushed to the fallen woman and knelt.
“Are you all right?” she asked.
At first she though the marshal had succumbed to some injury sustained in the crash. Panic hit when she found herself looking at a hole the size of a dime in the woman’s forehead.
“Oh my God.” Mattie staggered back. She looked around, spotted the two male marshals climbing out of the van. “I think she’s been shot!” she cried.
The two men looked at her. “What are you talking about?”
Thwack! Thwack! Thwack!
Both marshals jerked as if an overzealous puppeteer had yanked invisible strings. Something dark and shiny bloomed on one of the men’s jacket. They collapsed and lay still.
Mattie stared at the fallen men in disbelief. Someone was shooting at them, but she couldn’t fathom who or why. What was going on?
A light slashed through the darkness at the top of the ravine. Relief swept through her when four men emerged from a black SUV. She was about to call out to them when it struck her that they were speaking in a language she wasn’t familiar with. Who were they? How had they arrived on the scene so quickly?
Instinct sent her slinking behind the fallen log. From her hiding place, she watched as they started toward the wreckage and the downed U.S. Marshals. Were these men rescuers? Or were they the shooters?
One of the men stopped at the nearest fallen marshal. “Where is your prisoner?” he asked in a heavily accented voice.
The marshal groaned. “Help us…”
“Where is your prisoner?” the man repeated.
“Got…away,” the marshal groaned.
The man drew back a booted foot and kicked the marshal. “Where is she!”
The marshal ground out a curse. “Screw…you.”
Hissing a word Mattie didn’t understand, the man pulled a gun from his belt. “Stupid American,” he said and shot the marshal at point-blank range.
Horrified, Mattie scrambled back, put her hand over her mouth to keep herself from screaming. She’d never seen anything so brutal in her life. Who were these men? Why had they shot that marshal in cold blood? And why were they looking for her?
But deep inside, Mattie knew what they wanted. The knowledge terrified her almost as much as the brutality she’d just witnessed.
The killer stepped back, his eyes skimming the area, a predator hungry for a kill. Mattie instinctively sank closer to the ground.
“Check the van!” he shouted to the other three men. “Find the scientist. I want her alive!”
Knowing she would be discovered within minutes if she didn’t get out of there, she frantically looked around. But there was no place to run. No place to hide. Oh dear God what now?
The ravine offered her only route of escape. It was steep and rocky and as black as an abyss, but if she wanted to live she was going to have to risk it. Silently she slithered on her belly to the edge of the cliff.
“There are tracks here!” came a gruff male voice scant yards behind her.
“Spread out!” came the killer’s voice. “I want her found!”
Gripping an exposed root, Mattie slid over the ledge. Her feet dangled. She could hear rocks falling below. Saying a silent prayer, she let go of the root and tumbled into space.
Chapter One
Sean Cutter knew from experience that good news never came in the dead of night. For an instant he considered not answering his cell phone.
“Cutter,” he growled.
“It’s Martin.”
Uneasy surprise rippled through him at the sound of his former superior’s voice. Martin Wolfe was CIA and at the very top of the agency food chain. At one time the two men had been friends, but that friendship had ended a year ago when Cutter walked away from a career he’d invested twelve years of his life in. A fact that made this call at two o’clock in the morning all the more ominous.
“Why in the bloody hell are you calling me at this hour?” Cutter snapped. But he’d always known the call would come. He’d known one day they would want him back, that he wouldn’t be able to refuse.
“The Jaguar is in the country,” Wolfe said.
The name slammed into Cutter like a fist. For several interminable seconds he couldn’t speak.
“You there?”
Shaking himself mentally, Cutter sat up, threw his legs over the side of the bed. “Talk to me.”
“I got three dead U.S. Marshals and a missing Defense Department scientist. The Jaguar wants the scientist.”
Cutter got a bad feeling in the pit of his stomach. “Why?”
“She was the brain behind the EDNA Project.”
The situation solidified in a terrible rush. The EDNA Project was a top-secret weapons program funded by the Department of Defense. Though his knowledge of the weapon itself was limited, he knew DOD had been developing a new generation of weapons. A technology The Jaguar would do anything to obtain. If he got his hands on the scientist, he would possess a weapon the likes of which mankind had never seen.
“Martin, I’ve been out of the CIA for two year—”
“I need you back, Sean. I don’t have to tell you what this son of a bitch is capable of.”
Cutter knew exactly what The Jaguar was capable of. He had the scars to prove it. And even after two years, he still had the nightmares…
“If he gets his hands on EDNA, every city in the world will be at risk of being incinerated. We can’t let that happen.”
Cutter closed his eyes, the gravity of the situation sinking in. “Why me?”
“Because you know The Jaguar better than anyone. You’ve got the training. The experience.”
The killer instinct, Cutter thought darkly and felt a little sick. After what happened on his last mission, he’d sworn never again…
A refusal teetered on his lips, but he didn’t voice it. Sean Cutter might have walked away from his career, but he never walked away from duty. Not even when he knew it could probably kill him.
“I want you to find the scientist before The Jaguar does, and bring her in.”
It seemed a simple assignment on the surface. But Cutter knew there was more. With Martin Wolfe, there was always more. “What else?”
“I want you to bring The Jaguar in this time, Sean. Homeland Security has given me forty-eight hours to get this done. After that I have to take this public. Bring in local law enforcement and FBI.”
“And if The Jaguar gets to her before I do?”
“You have the authority to do whatever it takes to make sure she doesn’t talk.”
“What are you saying, Martin?”
“I’m saying she’s expendable. If the situation boils down to her life or the population of Los Angeles or New York or Houston, I want you to take her out.”
Cutter closed his eyes, dread seeping from every pore like fear sweat.
“I’ll catch the next flight out.”
“I’ve got a Lear waiting.”
“Pretty damn sure of yourself, aren’t you?”
“No, but I am sure of you.”
If only you knew, Cutter thought, and disconnected.
He sat down hard on the bed, dread roiling in his gut. Putting his face in his hands, he tried not to think about what he’d done.
IN THE PREDAWN DARKNESS, Mattie took the trail at a reckless speed. The cuffs binding her hands hindered, but she didn’t slow down. Her labored breaths echoed against the canyon walls. A cold wind swept through the gorge, whipping the trees into a frenzy.
She’d been running for what seemed like hours. She didn’t know where she was or where she was going, raw panic driving her forward. All she knew was if she stopped she would die.
She couldn’t believe her life had come to this. One short year ago she’d been living comfortably in a Washington, D.C., suburb. She’d driven her little blue Jetta to work every morning. She’d been happy. Challenged by her work. And falling for her attractive coworker, Daniel Savage. Everything had come to a grinding halt the day two grim-faced CIA agents walked into her office and arrested her for treason.
Treason.
Even now the insanity of the charge still stunned her. Overhead a spear of lightning split the sky. Mattie ducked reflexively but she didn’t slow her pace. She knew it would take a miracle, but if she could reach a phone, she could call Daniel. He would know what to do. He would help her if she asked, even if it meant risking his own reputation to do it. All she had to do was find a house or passing motorist.
Something rustled in the brush to her right. Biting back a cry, Mattie veered left. Don’t stop! the little voice inside her head chanted. Don’t look behind you!
The shadow of a man appeared seemingly out of nowhere and lunged at her. She pivoted, trying to scramble away. But she wasn’t fast enough, and a hard body plowed into her with the force of a Sherman tank.
Mattie had expected claws and teeth or maybe an expedient shot to the head. Instead, strong arms clamped around her like a vise and tackled her to the ground. Spitting dirt, she rolled and lashed out with both feet. Satisfaction flicked in her brain when her assailant grunted. The next thing she knew he was on top of her. With her arms bound she could not defend herself.
“Get off me!” she shouted.
She caught a glimpse of dark eyes. She felt the tremendous force of his strength, and her only thought was that these were the last moments of her life.
“If you want to live you’ll be quiet.”
Mattie barely heard the rough whisper over the wild pounding of her heart. She tried to twist away, but he was heavy and strong, pinning her with ease.
“What do you—”
A hand slapped over her mouth, cutting her words short. “Shh.”
Mattie stilled, and for an instant the only sound came from their labored breaths and the tinkle of sleet against dry leaves. Blinking hair from her eyes, she looked up, found herself staring into icy, blue eyes.
“There are four heavily armed men less than two hundred yards away,” he said in a low voice. “Make another sound and they’ll kill us both. Do you understand?”
For an instant the sense of helplessness and terror nearly overwhelmed her. But Mattie could tell by the look in his eyes that if he wanted her dead, he would have already done it.
She jerked her head. Never taking his eyes from hers, he removed his hand from her mouth and put his finger to his lips. His eyes scanned the surrounding darkness. Reaching out, he grasped the base of a long-dead bush and dragged it over them. The bush was large and full and in the semidarkness would cover them completely.
He turned to her and looked into her eyes, his expression tense. He was lying squarely on top of her with some of his weight on his elbows. “Don’t move,” he whispered. “I’m not going to hurt you.”
His body was rock hard, his muscles taut. At some point during the struggle her legs had opened, and he was lying between her knees, pressed intimately against her. He was no longer breathing hard, but she was.
“The tracks end here!” A heavily accented voice cut through the night like a blade.
“She’s using the stream to hide her tracks.” Another voice. Frighteningly near.
“We should have had her by now. We’re running out of time.”
Mattie listened, praying they wouldn’t be discovered when she saw a pair of boots and the butt of a semiautomatic rifle a few yards to her right. He was standing so close she could smell the stench of his sweat. Her breaths grew rapid and shallow.
“We’re safe,” the man lying on top of her whispered. “Just calm down.”
In the last hours she’d seen too much violence to keep a handle on the fear barreling through her. She could feel her entire body vibrating as a fresh wave of panic engulfed her. She began to hyperventilate. Her face and hands were tingling. If she didn’t get a grip, she was going to give away their hiding place and get them both killed.
Dry grass crunched as one of the killers drew closer. For a terrible instant Mattie thought he’d heard her panicked breathing. She imagined him raising the rifle and shooting them the same way he’d gunned down the three marshals. The urge to jump to her feet and run was strong. She could feel her muscles twitching as the flight instinct kicked in.
“Easy,” the man lying on top of her whispered. “Slow, deep breaths.”
But Mattie was beyond hearing, beyond logic. She tried breathing through her nose, but she could no more slow her breathing than a marathon runner who’d just run ten miles.
Grass and leaves rustled nearby and she knew one of the men was approaching. This is it, she thought. I’ve given away our hiding place and now they’re going to kill us.
The man on top of her shifted, and suddenly she was aware of the way his body fit against hers. Surprising her, he set his hands on either side of her face. His palms were warm and amazingly gentle as he brushed back the hair from her face. Mattie looked into the startling blue of his eyes. And even though the threat of death was so close she could feel the cold scrape of it against her spine, her only thought was that no man had ever looked at her the way this man did.
“What are you doing?” she asked.
“Saving our lives,” he said and lowered his mouth to hers.
CUTTER CONSIDERED HIMSELF a master of improvisation. He possessed an uncanny talent for making the best of a bad situation and the ability to adapt to current conditions. They were traits that made him the best of the best. At the moment, kissing this woman seemed like the most expedient way to keep her from getting both of them killed.
He hadn’t expected to get caught up in the softness of her mouth. Sean Cutter didn’t get caught up in anything, especially when it came to his job. But that was exactly what happened when his mouth made contact with hers.
She tried to turn her head, but he caught her cheek with his palm and deepened the kiss. She opened her mouth—to protest no doubt—and he seized the opportunity to take the kiss deeper. Another mistake, he thought dazedly, but by then he’d stopped counting.
Her mouth was warm and wet against his. Her body was curvy and soft and fit perfectly beneath him. He could feel the warmth of her quickened breaths against his cheek. And despite the fact that they were seconds away from being discovered by four men who would not hesitate to execute them, he found his body responding to hers.
He struggled to control the hot rush of blood to his groin, reminding himself of all the terrible things that could happen next. But her mouth was incredibly soft, her body a promise of all the things he’d denied himself for what felt like a lifetime. And while Cutter was a whiz at improvisation, he hadn’t a clue how to stanch good-old-fashioned sexual arousal—no matter how dangerous.
But the kiss was working. Slowly her body relaxed against his, and her breathing slowed. Cutter broke the kiss and for several agonizing minutes neither of them moved while the four killers smoked cigarettes and spoke in a language he was all too familiar with. If the woman could feel his erection against her, she gave no indication. She was probably too terrified to notice. He should be, too, considering they were inches away from getting shot. But Cutter had already faced the worst thing a man could face. He didn’t have a death wish, but not much truly scared him anymore.
After what seemed like an eternity, the men moved on. Cutter lay on top of his prisoner for several more minutes, listening to the men’s retreat. Once he deemed it safe, he tossed the bush aside and rose.
“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” Glaring at him, the woman sat up and with cuffed hands brushed at the leaves and dust on her clothes.
“Saving your life.”
A twig was sticking out of her hair. She was still wearing the slacks and jacket she’d worn to court. Both knees of her slacks were torn. The top button of her blouse had popped off at some point and he could see the lacy outline of her bra. Damn.
“You had no right to…to—”
“You were hyperventilating. If I hadn’t done something, you would have gotten both of us killed.”
Even in the semidarkness, he saw her pale. “Who are you?”
“I’m the man who’s going to take you back. For now, that’s all you need to know.”
“I don’t want to go back.”
He jabbed a thumb in the direction of where the four men had disappeared. “Maybe you’d rather take your chances with those cutthroats.”
“I’m innocent.”
Cutter couldn’t help it. He laughed. “Yeah, so am I.” Bending, he grasped her bicep to help her up.
“I’m not going anywhere with you,” she said as she got to her feet.
“Here’s a newsflash for you, blondie. You don’t have a say in the matter.”
Of their own accord, his eyes did a quick sweep down the front of her. Even though her suit was rumpled and torn, he could see that she was slender and willowy and built just the way he liked. Her hands were cuffed, accentuating curves he had no right noticing at a time like this.
He removed the master key from his belt. “Give me your wrists.”
She blinked. “You’re uncuffing me?”
“We need to move quickly before those bozos realize they fell for the oldest trick in the book.” He glanced up at the sky. Storm clouds were billowing to the northwest. The weather had been an issue during his briefing in the Lear jet that had taken him from Chicago to a small airport in Kalispell, Montana. A cold front chock-full of nasty precipitation was barreling down from the Canadian border. Cutter figured they had another hour before the skies opened up. Hopefully, enough time to make it to the rendezvous point where the agency had a chopper waiting.
She offered her wrists. “Who were those men?”
“Old friends of yours, no doubt.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
But a tremor went through her as he removed the cuffs. A shiver that didn’t have anything to do with the cold and told him she knew exactly what he was talking about. “Save it for your appeal,” he snapped, and shoved the cuffs into a compartment in his belt.
She turned to him, her eyes wide and beseeching. “I don’t know those men. And I didn’t do anything wrong.”
Another laugh squeezed from his throat, only this time it was bitter. “You sold out your country. As far as I’m concerned that puts you on the same level as those animals searching for you.”
As a man who had dedicated most of his adult life to protecting the country he loved, the thought of someone selling out for the likes of money disgusted him beyond words.
The problem was Mattie Logan didn’t look like a traitor. Blue eyed and blond haired, she looked wholesome and kind. But Cutter knew all too well that looks could be deceiving. Mattie Logan might look like the girl next door, but a traitor lay beneath the innocent facade. Remembering the way his body had reacted to her just a few short minutes earlier, he silently reprimanded himself for his weakness and vowed not to let himself be taken in again.
“I didn’t do any of what they accused me of,” she said.
“I don’t care.” And he didn’t. Not one iota. All he cared about at the moment was getting her to the chopper-pick-up location an hour to the south. “Let’s go.”
“Please,” she said. “You have to believe me.”
“I don’t have to do squat.”
“I would never compromise EDNA. That project was the greatest achievement of my career. I safeguarded it with my life.”
Cutter didn’t know the details of her case. All he knew was that she’d been found guilty of treason in a court of law. He trusted the justice system. It was his job to take her back. Black and white, just the way he liked it. Then he could move on to the most challenging phase of his mission: finding The Jaguar and bringing him to justice.
“Someone framed me,” she said. “It’s the only explanation.”
“If you don’t start walking, I’m going to put the cuffs back on and drag you down that trail.”
Rubbing her wrists where bruises had formed, she turned and started walking. “Don’t you care about justice?”
“Justice for whom?” Cutter usually didn’t indulge his prisoners in conversation, but her denials were beginning to annoy him. “The millions of people you endangered by selling EDNA? Did you happen to think about that?”
She started to turn and face him, but Cutter reached out and stopped her by grasping her arm. He wanted to believe he’d kept her moving because he was in a hurry to get to the rendezvous point. But deep inside he acknowledged that he did not want to look into those pretty blue eyes and know what she was. Beauty and evil just did not go together.
“I meant what I said about dragging you,” he warned.
“Please. I can’t go to prison for a crime I didn’t commit. You have to listen to me.”
“Do you have any idea how many times I’ve heard that?”
“It’s the truth! I’m innocent!”
“Take it up with the courts, sweetheart. Right now you have a date with a chopper, and come hell or high water I’m going to make sure you don’t miss it.”
Chapter Two
Dawn broke with a monochromatic sky and the tinkle of sleet against the ground. In the distance thunder rumbled menacingly. The hopelessness of her situation pressed down on Mattie like a lead weight as she made her way down the rugged trail. The last thing she wanted to do was get on that chopper and be transported to prison, but she knew if she tried to make a run for it, the man who’d apprehended her would stop her.
Mattie Logan, you are hereby sentenced to life in prison.
The words echoed until she thought she would scream with the injustice of them. But what could she do? Run? Convince this hard-nosed man she was innocent? Neither option seemed realistic.
“This is Delta Ringo One to Eagle. Do you read?”
Her captor’s voice drew her from her reverie. Mattie turned to see him speak into his radio.
“That’s affirm, Delta.” A voice crackled on the other end.
“I’ve got the package.”
“Roger that.”
“What’s your twenty on the rendezvous?”
“Coordinates two five three point one. What’s your ETA?”
The man punched numbers into a small device. “Ten minutes.”
It was the first time she’d had the chance to study him. He was lean and tall with an expression that told her he was serious about what he did. Wearing faded jeans, high-end hiking boots and a flannel shirt over a turtleneck, he didn’t look like any cop she’d ever seen. There was something dangerous about him that had nothing to do with some badge or even the semiautomatic pistol strapped to his hip. Something unpredictable that warned her not to cross him. But Mattie knew if she wanted to clear her name, crossing him was a calculated risk she was going to have to take.
“Be advised we have heavy weather coming in,” the voice barked from the radio.
“Time frame?”
“Front’s here, Delta. Get your butt in gear.”
“Roger that.” Frowning, he shoved the radio and hand-held device into his backpack and shot her with a dark look. “You heard the man, blondie. Let’s pick up the pace.”
For a crazy instant she considered making a run for it. Now that her hands were free, she would be able to run unencumbered. With a storm approaching, maybe her captor would be forced to return to the chopper without her. She envisioned herself barreling down the ravine to her left. If she could reach the stream…
“Don’t even think about it.”
Mattie glanced at him. Fifteen feet separated them. Not much of a head start, but suddenly she knew this moment would probably be her last chance for escape.
“I can’t go back,” she said.
“Don’t do anything stupid.”
“I know you don’t believe me, but I’m innocent. I swear on my life. All I need is the chance to prove it.”
“You’re not going to get the chance out here in the middle of nowhere.”
It’s now or never…
Mattie broke into a sprint toward the stream at the base of the ravine. She crashed through the brush, veered left to avoid a stand of sapling pines. She could hear his occasional curse behind her as his heavy boots pounded the ground. She ran as she had never run before, hurdling over fallen logs and rocks the size of basketballs. Her only thought was that if he caught her, her life would be over.
The next thing she knew, his strong arms were wrapped around her from behind. She screamed as he dragged her down. She fell hard on her stomach, twisted and lashed out with both feet.
He grunted when her heel caught his chin. She saw his head snap back, caught a glimpse of his angry eyes and a slash of blood where her heel had cut him.
“Stop resisting!” he growled.
But Mattie was fighting for her life. She’d been locked up for four months like an animal for an unspeakable crime she hadn’t committed. Her only hope of salvaging her life was escape. She’d decided a long time ago that she would rather die than spend the rest of her life in a cage.
But he was incredibly strong. An animal sound tore from her throat as he pinned her to the ground. He was sitting on her abdomen, his hands manacling her wrists above her head.
“Pull yourself together,” he snapped.
“I’m not going with you,” Mattie panted.
“You don’t have a say in the matter.”
Helplessness and impotent rage burned through her. To her horror, tears welled. Humiliated, Mattie tried to turn away, but he held her flat.
“You’ve left me no choice but to cuff you,” he said.
Mattie hated the cuffs; they made her feel like a criminal. He snapped the nylon restraints into place—in front—which made them marginally more comfortable.
He rose and helped her to her feet. “If you have a beef with the verdict, you’ve got to handle it through the courts. Not out here. There’s a dangerous storm on the way and four killers who will stop at nothing to get whatever secrets you have locked inside your head. Do you understand?”
“What I understand,” she said in a trembling voice, “is that neither justice nor my life means anything to you.”
He studied her as if she were a puzzle missing a vital piece, then he motioned toward the trail. “When we get to the chopper I’ll clean up that cut on your temple.”
The cut was so inconsequential when her life was destroyed that Mattie choked back a hysterical laugh. “Like that’s going to make everything all better.”
“Lady, I’m just doing my job the best way I know how. If you’re as smart as your file claims you are, you’ll make it easier on both of us and cooperate.”
“I will play no role in the ruination of my life.”
“You should have thought about that before you got involved with those thugs.” He jammed his thumb in the direction from which they’d come. “If those bastards get their hands on you, you will find out the true meaning of brutality.”
“I’d rather die than spend the rest of my life in prison.”
“Keep it up and you’ll get your wish.” He looked at his watch. “Now let’s move out.”
He set a grueling pace as they trekked toward the pick-up location. Mattie felt as if she were walking toward the firing squad. She couldn’t believe she’d blown her only chance of escape.
Within minutes, the Whop! Whop! Whop! of the chopper’s rotor blades rent the air. Through the trees she spotted the large craft perched on a rocky ridge in a clearing. The fuselage was yellow with black lettering.
They were twenty yards away when a man in khaki pants and a parka opened the chopper’s hatch and stepped out. “About damn time,” he said, his eyes going from her captor to her and lingering.
Mattie looked away, wondering if this would be the last time she saw trees, the last time she breathed in mountain air and freedom.
“She give you any problems?” the man asked.
Her captor gave her a measuring look. “None I couldn’t handle.”
“Get her in the chopper. Pilot’s RTG. Let’s see if we can beat this cold front.”
Her captor took her arm and led her toward the chopper. She was about to step inside when a gunshot stopped her dead in her tracks. She spun to see the man in khakis crumple to the ground.
“Holy hell! Rusty!”
Her captor went for his weapon, but he wasn’t fast enough. A third man in a flight suit emerged from the chopper leveling a deadly looking weapon at her captor’s chest.
“Drop the gun, Cutter, or I swear you’ll join him.”
THERE WAS NOTHING Sean Cutter hated more than a traitor. That deep-seated hatred boiled inside him as he stared at the CIA chopper pilot he’d known and trusted for the better part of his professional life.
“What the hell are you doing, Meeks?”
“What do you think?” Grimacing, the pilot jumped from the chopper to the ground, his eyes flashing from Cutter to Mattie.
“I think you’re selling your soul,” Cutter said.
“What can I say? They pay better than Uncle Sam.” Meeks crossed to Mattie and licked his lips. She cringed when he ran a fingertip from her chin, down her neck to her shoulder. “I don’t know why The Jaguar wants you so badly, but he made me an offer I couldn’t refuse.”
“How much?” Cutter asked.
“A million and change.”
“Generous.”
“I thought so. A hell of a lot more than a CIA pilot will ever see in his lifetime.”
“Too bad you won’t live to spend it.” Cutter edged closer, but Meeks smiled and set his finger against the trigger. “Don’t get any closer, Sean. You know I’ll put a bullet in you.”
Cutter glanced down at the man lying on the ground in a widening pool of blood. “Evidently you don’t have any qualms about taking out one of your own.”
“Not one of my own. I’m a free agent now.”
“You’re a coward and a traitor.”
The pilot smiled. “But very rich.”
“So tell me, Meeks. How does this work? You kill two federal agents and deliver a DOD scientist to a terrorist group? You think they’re really going to pay you?”
“I’ve already got half of it.”
“And you think the CIA is going to walk away and let you live happily ever after?”
“I’ll be able to afford to get lost anywhere in the world.”
“There’s no place remote enough on this earth that will keep the CIA from finding you.”
“Unless they think I’m dead.” His eyes flicked to the pistol at Sean’s hip. “Give me your weapon, GPS unit and radio.”
When Cutter hesitated, the other man pulled back the slide on the weapon. “Do it or I’ll take out your kneecaps first.”
Hoping to buy time, Cutter pulled the radio and GPS unit from his belt and tossed both to the ground.
Meeks stepped forward and crushed the radio beneath his boot. “The gun, too, Cutter. Stop wasting my time.”
Relinquishing his weapon was the one thing Cutter would not do. He knew Meeks was going to kill him, then deliver this scientist to a dangerous terrorist cell. If he wanted to prevent both of those things from happening he was going to have to make a move.
Putting his hand on his weapon, he stepped closer. “You son of a bitch.”
Cutter’s nerves jigged when the other man shifted the gun to his chest. “Nice and slow. The gun. Now.”
Cutter went for his weapon, brought up the muzzle. But he wasn’t fast enough. The other man fired. The bullet struck him in the chest like a baseball bat slamming in a homerun. The breath left his lungs in a sound that was half roar, half curse. He reeled backward, lost his footing. The next thing he knew his back hit the ground. Pain radiated through his chest. He couldn’t move. Couldn’t breathe. Dizziness descended like a fast-acting narcotic.
Through the haze of pain Cutter was aware of the pilot pointing the weapon at the woman. “Get in the chopper, bitch.”
Cutter felt himself fading in and out of consciousness. But there was no way he could let Meeks fly out with Mattie Logan in tow. She was a walking time bomb. If The Jaguar got his hands on her, the world would pay a terrible price.
He tried to sit up, but searing pain sent him back down. He tried to draw a breath, succeeded only in making an undignified sound. Damn. He hadn’t wanted things to end this way…
He was wondering how the situation could get any worse when four men wielding semiautomatic rifles stormed the clearing.
SHE WAS GOING TO DIE. If not by the hand of the pilot, then certainly by one of the gunmen. Two minutes ago her biggest concern had been clearing her name. Now, at the mercy of five brutal killers, she figured she’d be lucky to walk away in one piece.
Mattie couldn’t take her eyes off the man called Cutter as he lay on the ground a few feet away. A crimson stain the size of a saucer bloomed on his shirt. She hadn’t wanted to go back with him, but she certainly hadn’t wanted to see him shot down like an animal.
She stood frozen, her heart pounding wildly as the four men verged on the pilot. The leader of the group was a thin man of average height. His coal-black hair was swept back from a high forehead. Eyes the color of midnight swept from the man on the ground, to Mattie.
“I see you are a man of your word,” he said to the pilot.
“Signed, sealed and delivered,” the pilot replied.
The man’s black eyes swept down the front of her. “You are not what I expected.”
“I don’t know anything,” she blurted.
Sick amusement danced in his eyes. “What you know remains to be seen, doesn’t it?”
She jolted when he raised his hand and brushed her jaw with his knuckle. “It makes no difference to me if you are a woman or a man. One way or another, you will tell me everything you know about the final phase of EDNA or I will hurt you in ways you could never imagine.”
She believed him. And suddenly she was very sorry the man who’d come to take her back was lying on the ground, dying.
The terrorist motioned toward the fallen agent. “What happened?”
“He made a move.” The pilot shrugged. “I had to take him out.”
“I told you I wanted him alive. Sean Cutter and I have unfinished business.”
“He didn’t give me a choice.”
The other man’s expression darkened, but he said nothing.
The pilot glanced toward dark clouds roiling on the horizon. “Look, there’s a storm moving in. Pay me that last half of the money and I’ll drop you and your associates wherever you need to go. But we’ve got to move now or else risk getting stranded on this godforsaken mountain.”
For the first time Mattie realized that in the last few minutes the wind had picked up. Snow mixed with sleet was swirling around the treetops. A thin layer already covered the ground.
She knew these men were going to kill her. The ringleader had all but promised to torture her for information about EDNA. Once they got what they wanted from her, she would be expendable. A chill that had nothing to do with the cold snaked through her at the thought of the horrors she faced in the coming hours….
“Get in the chopper,” the ringleader said to his men.
“I can take you as far as Canada,” the pilot said as they started toward the hatch.
“Excellent,” the terrorist said. “Let’s go.”
As the pilot stepped into the craft, the terrorist raised his handgun and fired a single shot. Blood spattered the yellow fuselage. The pilot pitched forward and landed on the ground with a thud.
“That’s for killing Sean Cutter,” the terrorist muttered.
Horror and disbelief pummeled her like fists. Another man dead. All because these men wanted the plans for the final phase of EDNA….
She wondered how long she would hold up under torture. She wondered how terrible it would be. And in that instant she decided there was no way she could let them take her alive.
“Fire!”
Mattie glanced toward the chopper to see black smoke billowing from its fuselage. Surprised shouts erupted all around her. The men scrambled from the craft. “Grab the extinguisher!” one of them shouted.
“Watch the woman!”
“The fire is coming from the engine! Quickly, put it out!”
Run!
The flight instinct kicked in with a vengeance. Refusing to think of repercussions, she spun away from the chopper and literally ran for her life.
She darted across the clearing to the forest, her feet barely seeming to touch the ground. She scrambled over the trunk of a fallen tree, through brush that tore at her slacks. She knew they would catch her; there was no way she could elude four men with guns. But terror and adrenaline were driving her, not logic.
Shouts erupted as she fled. She heard her pursuers behind her, following her, breaking through brush. Praying for a miracle, she glanced over her shoulder toward the place where the man called Cutter had fallen.
But he was gone.
Chapter Three
Cutter was no stranger to pain. While the Kevlar vest had saved his life, it hadn’t prevented the bullet from doing a number on his ribs. The vial of fake blood had helped fool them into believing he was mortally wounded, giving him the chance to start the engine fire as a diversion. But with no weapon, no radio, and four well-armed killers to deal with, staying alive would surely prove to be a tad more difficult.
But it was Mattie Logan who was foremost in his mind as he hurried down the deer trail in search of her. He could hear the men shouting in the distance and knew it would be only a matter of time before they caught up with her. Within minutes of capturing her they would load her onto the chopper and cross the border into Canada. He had no intention of letting that happen.
He turned right at a jut of rock and poured on the speed. Agony tore through his chest with every breath, but he didn’t slow down. He didn’t let himself think about the pain or the odds he faced. He had to find Logan before the terrorists did….
Operating on little more than animal instinct, he ran toward the tall, dense piñon pines. Logan had fled southwest. If he held his direction, he would intercept her. Hopefully before the others did. But Cutter knew finding her wasn’t the toughest challenge he faced. The hard part was going to be getting out of there without getting shot….
The sound of footsteps sent him diving for cover in a blanket of juniper. Peering through the foliage, he caught a glimpse of blond hair and pale skin. He heard the hiss of panicked breaths rushing through clenched teeth.
Logan.
He caught her arm as she passed. Carried by the momentum of her sprint, she stumbled and nearly fell, but Cutter caught her. He slapped a hand over her mouth, catching the scream that would have revealed their position. He felt an impression of soft skin and small bones within his grasp. The hint of lemon and rosemary in silky hair as she swung around. But all of those things were punctuated by panic and terror. A dangerous state if he didn’t gain control of the situation pronto.
No time to take her to the ground and subdue her. No time for an explanation. For an instant, she fought back like an animal snared in the deadly teeth of a steel trap. He made eye contact and gave her a hard shake. “If you want to live, come with me,” he said in a low voice.
She went still and blinked at him as if waking from a bad dream. “I…I thought you were d-dead.”
“So did they, evidently.” He looked over his shoulder. “Let’s go.”
“How do I know I can trust you?”
“You don’t,” he said and hauled her into a dead run.
A DEAD MAN had saved her life.
It was the only thought Mattie’s brain could manage. She didn’t know how, but somehow Cutter had survived a gunshot to the chest. Though at the moment, running from men bent on killing them, she didn’t necessarily care.
Snow and sleet blinded her as she ran. It took every ounce of physical ability she possessed to keep up with Cutter and maintain her footing. One tiny miscalculation and she would fall—a mistake that would surely prove deadly.
It felt as if they had been running forever. Every muscle in her body ached with exhaustion. Mattie didn’t know how she kept going. The primal will to live.
“Whoa. Easy.”
She felt a hard tug on her hand. Cutter was pulling her back, slowing her down.
“Can’t…stop,” she panted.
“It’s okay.”
“They’ll kill us.”
“I’m not going to let them kill anyone.”
Mattie looked over her shoulder, but the trail they’d just traveled was deserted. She listened for footsteps, but the only sound came from their labored breathing and the soft thud of sleet against the ground.
Giving her a look that told her he was too damn beat to give chase if she decided to take off, Cutter released her, then bent at the hip to gulp air. “We need to rest, catch our breath.”
Mattie thought about running, but her legs had evidently decided they’d had enough exertion for one day. When she started to walk away, her knees buckled. She fell forward onto her hands and knees, and for a moment she could do nothing but breathe.
“Take a moment to catch your breath. Then we’ve got to keep moving.”
Mattie raised her head and glared at him. “It’s going to take a lot longer than a moment for me to catch my breath.”
They’d stopped in a small clearing. The boughs of the piñon pines were covered with snow. Mattie wondered if they’d gained elevation. If that was why it seemed colder, the air thinner and more difficult to breathe.
“Come on.” Cutter crossed to her and extended his hand. “Time to go.”
Mattie considered refusing his hand. But she wasn’t sure she could rise on her own, so she reached for him. “Back at the chopper, how did you manage the fire?”
“I didn’t.” He pulled her to her feet. “What you saw was a smoke grenade. A diversion.”
No, she thought. He was no ordinary cop. But if he wasn’t a cop what agency was he with? CIA? Homeland Security? She wondered why he had been sent to take her back. Why not local law enforcement? Why not the FBI or the U.S. Marshals Service.
“Who are you?” she asked.
“I’m the man who’s going to keep you alive.” His icy blue eyes burned into hers. “Right now, that’s all you need to know.”
THE SON OF A BITCH had beaten him at his own game once again.
The Jaguar paced the snow-covered ground with the sleek elegance of his namesake. Dark anticipation and a keen sense of unfinished business had him feeling restless and edgy. Not only was Sean Cutter alive, but he was psychologically and physically sound and working for the CIA again. That more than anything surprised The Jaguar. By all rights, the man should be dead. At the very least he should be locked in a padded cell.
He and the federal agent went way back, but their relationship was far from amicable. Cutter was the only man The Jaguar had not been able to break. Even under torture, the agent had maintained his silence. He’d defied a black art form The Jaguar had made his business and built a reputation upon. The sense of failure had nagged at him for two years. This time, he would make certain Sean Cutter talked, then was tortured and killed.
Bracing himself against the cold north wind, The Jaguar lit a cigarette and walked to the chopper, where two of his men were working on the engine.
“What is the status?” he asked.
“Operable.”
“Excellent.”
“The smoke was evidently from a smoke grenade and did little damage to the engine.”
A diversion, he thought. How very like Sean Cutter… Hatred churned inside him. He looked up at the swirling snow, felt the dark anticipation stir. “Is the chopper equipped with infrared?”
The other man smiled. “The American government spares no expense when it comes to hunting down those who would question their absolute power.”
The Jaguar nodded. “I want the scientist and Sean Cutter. I want them alive. And I want them now.”
“The weather could be a problem.”
He turned his gaze on the other man. “The last man who questioned my wishes lasted for fourteen hours in my torture chamber. When I tired of his screams I shot him. Perhaps you want to test your endurance?”
The other man looked away, his Adam’s apple bobbing twice in quick succession. “I am merely looking out for your safety.”
“That would best be done once we’re airborne.”
“I understand.”
The Jaguar scanned the rugged countryside, feeling an uncomfortable urgency to finish what should already have been done. “They couldn’t have gotten far.”
“Not on foot and in this weather. They have no gear. No weapon or radio.”
The Jaguar said nothing. But he knew the other man underestimated Sean Cutter. He himself had underestimated the federal agent two years ago. He would not make the same mistake twice.
CUTTER HAD NO PROBLEM with risking his life for the safety and security of the American people. What he didn’t like was the idea of risking his life for the likes of a traitor like Mattie Logan. He had zero tolerance for anyone low enough to betray their country.
She might look like an angel with her wide eyes and porcelain skin; she might even be one of the most stunning women he’d ever laid eyes on. But physical beauty made no difference to Cutter when it came to treachery.
He stared at her, keenly aware of her proximity, that she smelled good, that her complexion was as pale and flawless as a child’s. But there was nothing even remotely childlike about the rest of her. Her eyes were deep and blue and filled with a woman’s secrets. Within their depths he saw the remnants of terror and a jumble of emotions held on a taut rein. Her blond hair was pulled into a ponytail, but several strands had fallen free to frame her face. Strands his fingers itched to brush aside.
She possessed the kind of beauty that blinded a man. The kind of sexual appeal that made even a smart man do stupid things. All for the sound of her laughter or the promise of a touch. An element that made her every bit as dangerous as the terrorists aiming to kill them.
Ignoring the uncomfortable tug of something he didn’t want to identify, Cutter turned away. “Let’s move. Chances are they’re going to use the chopper to search for us.”
“But won’t the storm ground them?”
“It would if we were dealing with a sane person.” He shot her a sober look. “In case you’re not reading between the lines here, we’re not.”
“But they don’t have a pilot. They shot him.”
Impatient with her questions, he took her hand and pulled her into a jog. “The Jaguar wouldn’t have shot him if he didn’t have a backup pilot.”
“The Jaguar?”
He hadn’t meant to say the name aloud. Just hearing it sent a chill up his spine. Even after two years he could recall what it had been like to be helpless and hurting and look into the other man’s eyes and see pure evil.
“Stop talking and start moving,” he snapped. “Faster.”
She complied, but Cutter knew there was little chance of them outdistancing The Jaguar’s men. The terrorist surrounded himself with the most brutal men in the world. Men who would risk it all to advance whatever twisted beliefs had transformed them into terrorists.
Cutter had been in worse situations and still come out alive. But with a storm moving in and killers hot on their trail, survival seemed a long shot at best.
“Where are we going?”
He glanced over at his prisoner. She had snow in her hair. It clung to her thick eyelashes. Her cheeks were pink with cold, her eyes bright with fear. He wished she wasn’t so damn good to look at. The last thing he needed was a distraction….
“Right now we’re just trying to put some distance between us and those bastards with guns,” he said.
She was starting to breathe hard again. The way a woman did when she was in the throes of lovemaking. The image of her with her head thrown back, her body welcoming his, flashed unbidden in his mind’s eye. He imagined his hands on her body, her breaths coming short and fast as he worked her toward release….
Shoving the image aside, he picked up the pace. “Faster,” he said.
She struggled to keep up. “You never told me what agency you’re working for.”
“No, I didn’t.”
“I like to know who I’m dealing with.”
“All you need to know is that I’m the man who’s going to save your life.”
“The way I see it, you’re the man who’s going to make sure I spend the rest of my life in prison for a crime I didn’t commit.”
“Save it for the judge, blondie.”
“The judge has already made his decision. A decision based on lies and planted evidence.”
“You got caught,” he snapped. “Deal with it, because you’re not going to get any sympathy from me. Got it?”
“What I got is railroaded. I can prove it, but not from inside a prison cell.”
“There are young men and women risking their lives every day to keep this country safe,” he snarled. “I don’t have any compassion for turncoats, so cut it out.”
For several minutes the only sound came from the pounding of their feet against the earth.
“You want to know what’s really frightening about all of this?” she asked.
“You have no idea what’s really frightening,” he said bitterly.
“The real culprit is still out there. They probably have access to the EDNA project. They’re probably trying to get their hands on the final-phase plans. And they’re probably still planning on selling the information when they do.”
Cutter stared hard at her, looking for the lie he knew was there. But the woman staring back at him had one of the most guileless faces he’d ever seen. He was not gullible when it came to female charms. Not by a long shot. But he could feel the draw to her. A draw that was part sexual, part…something else. Like a full moon pulling at a restless sea and causing a dangerously high tide.
Cutter was too smart to act on any of the crazy thoughts running through his head. He knew all too well what could happen when you mixed sex with an assignment. The last time he’d given in to temptation someone had ended up dead. He’d nearly been killed himself and had spent a good part of the next year wishing he hadn’t survived.
“Unless you want to end up dead,” he said, “you’ve got to keep moving.”
“Maybe that’s a better alternative to spending the rest of my life—”
His temper snapped. Stopping abruptly, he swung around to face her. Roughly he yanked her toward him so that her face was only inches from his. Close enough for him to smell the rosemary and lemon of her hair. He steeled himself against the sweet warmth of her breath against his face.
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Linda Castillo
Тип: электронная книга
Жанр: Современная зарубежная литература
Язык: на английском языке
Издательство: HarperCollins
Дата публикации: 16.04.2024
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О книге: MIDNIGHT IN MONTANAWhen a federal transport was ambushed and overturned in the wilds of Montana, MIDNIGHT agent Sean Cutter was given forty-eight hours to track down a desperate woman. But falsely accused, Mattie Logan didn′t want to be saved. It was Sean′s job to convince her otherwise.A former Department of Defense scientist now targeted by the terrorist known only as the Jaguar, Mattie couldn′t risk betrayal again. But neither could Sean. Caught out in the blistering cold, Mattie sought shelter beneath Sean′s broad shoulders, each needing the other′s warmth to stay alive. But would trusting one another prove to be more difficult than clearing Mattie′s name?