Kitabı oxu: «Operation: Midnight Guardian»
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
MILLS & BOON
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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?”
Pulsuz fraqment bitdi.
