Smokescreen, page 12
Ethan pulled his key fob from his pocket, finger poised on the unlock button for the truck. As before, he held up three fingers, gave the area a final sweep and counted down to run. This time he didn’t send Ashley alone. They burst from the woods together as bullets flew right behind them, Ethan pressing the unlock button in time for Ashley to dive in through the passenger door.
Ethan skidded around the vehicle and stumbled to a halt.
A man was crouched near the back tire, a pistol equipped with a silencer taking dead aim at Ethan’s head.
He deflated as the man smiled, squaring his aim.
There would be no dialogue, just the shot that killed him. Well, he’d go down fighting. His muscles tightened into knots as he prepared to dive straight toward the man who could end his life and take Ashley away from him.
Before he could move, the back door of the truck flew open and crashed against the man’s arm, sending the gun skittering across the pavement.
Ethan flicked a quick glance to see Ashley duck back into the truck as the stunned gunman staggered to his feet. Ethan didn’t give him the chance. He launched himself at the truck door, swinging it shut with the entire force of his body, capturing his assailant’s arm and shoulder in the door with a thick crunch.
The man threw back his head and roared in pain.
With an uppercut, Ethan slammed the man’s mouth shut, driving his head back and dropping him to the ground. He lay there, stunned, cradling his injured arm as he tried to roll onto his side.
Ethan didn’t wait for him to get up. Instead he yanked the driver’s door open and shoved the key in the ignition before he settled in. “Put your seat belt on. You’re going to need it.”
He checked the side mirror, then yanked the truck into Reverse and to the left to avoid the man who’d staggered to his knees, clutching his injured shoulder.
Ethan meant to be out of range before he raised an alarm. Tires squealing, he threw the truck out of the parking lot and up the road, praying they had a jump on the white sedan and the dark SUV.
Rather than take the direct route to the highway, he spun a right onto 342 and thanked God again for the time he’d been stationed at Drum. Let them think he was headed toward the post. As long as no one picked up on his intent to get to Sackets Harbor and Tate’s B and B, they’d be safe.
He alternated between watching the road behind him and the road in front of him, while Ashley rode silently, clutching the package from Sean with both hands.
In the distance, a car fell in behind them, but it didn’t seem to be in a hurry. Ethan took the first left he could find and coached his leg muscles to ease up on the gas pedal, waiting to see if the car followed.
It didn’t. He allowed himself to relax for the first time since the shot fired twenty minutes ago. Unless he was wrong about everything, they’d managed to get away. He abandoned the mirrors and appraised Ashley.
With trembling fingers, she brushed long blond strands from her eyelashes and wrapped her hands around the envelope again. In spite of everything, including the white of her knuckles, she seemed to be holding on. Maybe there was a limit to even what her panic could do in one day. Her body had to run out of adrenaline at some point, didn’t it?
He wanted to reach for her, but there wasn’t a lot of wisdom in that. “You got this?”
Her eyes scanned the road, the glove box and finally her feet. She stretched her stiff fingers toward the heat vent before she answered, a tremble beginning at her fingertips and rattling her entire body. “Fine. Just cold. From the inside out.”
“Your adrenaline’s ebbing.” Ethan turned up the heat and tried to gauge their location. “Give it a few minutes. You’ll warm up.” He cleared his throat. “Quick thinking with the door.”
“When you didn’t get in the car, I knew I needed to do something. Did he have...?”
She couldn’t even say the word, and it was probably a good thing she hadn’t seen it. He certainly wasn’t going to tell her. “Weapon or not, you took him down and gave me the out we needed. I’d have been proud to have you on my team.”
“Well, there’s something that’ll never happen.” She crossed her arms over her chest, cutting off any further conversation.
He’d said the wrong thing. Done all of the wrong things. If he wasn’t careful, she’d shut down and walk away before they solved this thing...and before his feelings grew any stronger.
THIRTEEN
Ashley sank to the edge of the sofa and ran her hands along the multicolored upholstery, the fabric rough under her fingers. In other circumstances, the small bed-and-breakfast could have been a haven for her. The alcove at the top of the stairs held a small, modern sofa and a recliner, as well as a full bookcase standing sentry by a set of French doors leading out to a small balcony. The deep purple of the walls and the heavy lace curtains at the windows reached in and soothed something deep inside her. If she closed her eyes, she could imagine the harbor calling to her from just down the street.
Tate Walker and his ex-wife had chosen an ideal location for their B and B in Sackets Harbor, a place Ashley could find peace in a different situation.
For now she reveled in a few minutes of solitude after a few hours of sleep and a hot shower. She’d argued with Ethan about sleeping, knowing every moment counted, but even she couldn’t deny her mind needed refreshing for the job ahead.
She couldn’t sit here much longer. With Sean’s data in hand, she had work to do deciphering the code so Ethan could pass along vital intel. Every hour was valuable.
From the living room downstairs, Ethan’s words drifted, mingling with another muffled voice, though the conversation was too far away to decipher. The low drone of the TV overlaid the men’s discussion. Ashley closed her eyes again and let Ethan’s deep timbre wash over her, let herself get comfortable.
Too comfortable. The instant she thought she’d found a place to hold on to, God snatched it away.
Her apartment.
The cabin.
Ethan’s truck—a home base for her throughout these past twenty-four hours. Now easily identifiable, it had to be ditched.
Tate had met them at a park-and-ride lot on north 81 near the Canadian border before they’d wound their way to Sackets Harbor, the trip taking much too long for Ashley’s taste. She’d ridden nausea the whole way, unable to stop watching out the window, even after Ethan and Tate had both assured her they weren’t being followed.
A small crash took her to the window, muscles trembling. Please, God. Not again.
In the backyard, early morning sunlight cast a soft glow across the lawn. Tate walked out of a wooden shed at the back of the property, surveyed his small yard, then dragged a manual push mower out and started to mow grass that, this early in the season, really didn’t need attention.
Tate Walker was exactly what Ashley pictured a friend of Ethan’s to be. Tall and muscular, in his late thirties, Tate’s black hair was already sprinkled with salt, his green eyes lined with military experience. His ready smile, even in the midst of chaos, had made Ashley relax and almost feel at home.
A creak on the stairs pulled her from the window and highlighted the silence in the house, the TV downstairs conspicuously mute.
Ethan leaned against the stair rail. The dark green of his sweater dragged the brown from his eyes and deepened the color to hot chocolate. Beneath his right eye, a cut marred his skin—a souvenir from their mad dash through the woods. He’d been watching her, and she had no idea how long.
When he realized he had her attention, he nodded, a grim look tightening the lines around his mouth. “You all right up here?”
Better now that he was here, though there was no way she’d ever say those words out loud. He might not be the self-centered man she’d believed him to be, but once this job was finished, he’d be on to his next mission. Another safe place gone. No matter how much she wanted to go to him now and let him hold her, she couldn’t. It would only hurt more later.
Still...something was wrong. It was written in the lines around his eyes. He was about to tell her they needed to run again.
She was tired. So tired. She’d dozed for a few hours in one of the guest rooms, but the first light of dawn had dragged her to consciousness again. The sleep wasn’t enough to compensate for two days’ worth of adrenaline and fear. She needed a safe place to lay her head for more than a few hours before they needed to find transportation and hit the road again.
She steeled herself, already reaching for the bag that held her newly purchased laptop and her one change of clothes. “Where to now?”
Ethan shook his head with a rueful smile. “Nowhere. At least not for a little while. Where we ditched the truck, they’re going to think we headed for Canada. And they’d have to dig pretty deep to find any way of connecting me to Tate and this place. The time we served together was...classified.”
Classified. Secret. Like so much else about him.
“Then what’s wrong?”
He shook his head and crossed his arms over his chest, though he still tried to look as though his leaning against the stairwell was supposed to be a casual thing. The tightness in his fingers on his biceps gave him away. “You know, Colson, it’s a good thing the bad guys can’t read me as well as you do. I’d never be able to go undercover again.”
“You’re easy to read.” She waved a hand, gesturing up and down his height. “Everything about you gives you away.”
“Only to you.” The words were low, almost gravelly with regret.
She couldn’t look at him anymore. Knowing him that well was only going to make goodbye harder. “You haven’t told me what’s wrong.”
“Because I really, really don’t want to.”
Ashley’s bones melted, bile rising in her throat. Tears beat against the backs of her eyelids as she sank to the couch. Sean. He had news about Sean, and from the sound of his voice, it wasn’t good.
“Ethan. Is Sean...?” She couldn’t even bring herself to say the word.
He was at her side, settled on the edge of the sofa, his shoulder leaning against hers. He didn’t put his arm around her, though she sure wished he would. “No. Sean’s status hasn’t changed as far as I know. I’ve got Tate working on it. He’s part of the old-school network I was telling you about, and I’m hoping he can get some answers, though it might not be quick. I have to believe, though, that Sean’s okay.” He dragged a hand down his uninjured cheek and along his chin, the stubble scraping harshly. “They won’t do anything to him until they know how much he was able to pass this way and, so far, we still have that information with us.” He leaned his shoulder heavier against hers and reached for her hand. “There’s something else.”
It wasn’t possible for her to sink lower, but she did, even as her heart twinged at the warmth of his fingers around hers. “Tell me before my imagination paints a worse picture than you’re about to lie out there.”
“I don’t know how...but they tracked us to your grandparents’ cabin.” Ethan squeezed her fingers. “It’s been burned. There’s nothing left.”
Ashley’s breath caught in her throat. Her grandparents’ pride and joy, the site of her happiest moments from childhood...gone. “Katrina?”
“I don’t know anything official.”
Needing to move, to pace, to do anything other than sit still, Ashley pushed herself up, pulling her hand from Ethan’s. She crossed to the French doors and started to step out but thought better of it. In the light of day, anyone could see her. Instead, she leaned her head against the white paint of the frame. “How do you know all of this? You don’t know anything about Sean, but you know my family’s cabin is gone?” Anger bubbled in her. At Ethan, at Sean, at the men who were intent on wrecking every part of her life all to keep their revenue stream flowing.
Money. It all boiled down to money.
The sofa squeaked as Ethan turned to face her. “While you were in the shower this morning, I had Tate turn on the news. I needed to see how many headlines a shooting at the airport and a dead soldier are generating. Turns out, not too many. They attributed the airport shooting to gang violence, and there hasn’t been a mention about Mitchum yet. But there was a story about a cabin burning farther upstate on the river and I recognized the structure. It made the news because they were afraid it would get out of control and spread to the woods.”
“And Katrina?”
There was another creak and then Ethan’s hands were on her shoulders, his forehead against the back of her head, just like in the woods. “On the news video, her car was still in the driveway. And the reporter said they’d—”
“Found a body.” Ashley pressed her hands to her mouth and tipped her head forward, squeezing her eyes shut as the tears forced their way out. What had they done? It had been her idea to hide at the cabin. It was her fault her cousin was dead. Somehow, she’d led the people who wanted to kill her straight to her family. There was no reason to murder Katrina, no reason to burn the cabin other than to send a message to Ethan and her. A message that said they’d better give up before they were caught.
A message that said they couldn’t win.
* * *
Ashley crumbled in front of his eyes. She buried her face in her hands, great sobs heaving her shoulders, choking her.
The sound cracked every last carefully constructed wall around Ethan’s heart. He wanted to walk out the front door and face these guys head-on, bare-fisted if it took that, just to free Ashley from this pain. As gently as he could, he turned her to face him and pulled her close, determined to shelter her from the world even if it was for only a few minutes. He held her tight, protecting her the way he should have when she’d needed him most.
“I’ve led these guys right to my family.” He heard Ashley’s muffled words against his chest as her sobs slowed. “What if Sean’s already—?”
Ethan didn’t give her time to finish the sentence. He pushed her gently away, planting his hands on her shoulders. He wanted to keep holding her, but he couldn’t let her believe the lie. “No. This is not your fault. None of this is your fault. This is the fault of power-hungry, bloodthirsty men who will stop at nothing to destroy our way of life and everything we stand for. If anything, Sean and I are to blame for getting you involved in the first place. We pointed those guys right to you, and I’m sorry. I’m sorrier than you know. You have to believe me.” He ran a hand down her hair, fingers tracing across her cheek, trying to telegraph his conviction to her, to let her know the weight of everything about this situation rested squarely on his shoulders, and he was going to make it right. “Look at me.”
She swallowed hard and lifted her head, eyes meeting his. The intensity of that green blew away everything he’d planned to say, every argument he’d prepared. Instead what he saw there brought the rush of every emotion he’d experienced since he’d jerked her into his life. Grief, triumph, fear...love. The onslaught tore down his last defenses. He scanned her eyes, seeing it all reflected at him. They were caught in this together, always had been.
His gaze drifted to her hair, to the window behind her, back to her eyes. He let his thumb shift to the side of her neck, where he brushed her hair aside, the soft skin warming his thumb and melting his fortitude. “The only thing that matters to me is you. And right now you’re safe.” Safe from the terrorists...but probably not safe from him.
He brushed a kiss across her forehead, and when she leaned in, he was finished. He knew he shouldn’t do this. She was an asset to protect, one whose presence tended to tear apart all of his training. And still, always, Sean was between them. He eased her away. As much as he didn’t want to, he had to step out of the warmth of her presence.
Backing toward the stairs, he shook his head. “I can’t. I have to protect you and I can’t if we...” He exhaled loudly, changing tactics. “You and Sean belong together. He’s the one who deserves you.”
Ashley’s eyebrows pulled together, grief overtaken by confusion. “That makes no sense. Sean is a friend. Our getting engaged was a huge mistake. I love him, but he’s like my brother.” She tossed a hand in the air in frustration, voice ragged with emotion. “It’s you, Ethan. It’s always been you.”
There was no more to be said. Ethan closed the space between them in two steps, pulling her toward him and pressing his lips to hers in a kiss almost a decade in the making, pouring everything he felt into her, from the fear he’d experienced the day she was shot to the grief over the happenings of the past two days, to his fierce desire to make sure nothing ever hurt her again...not even him.
She met him halfway, receiving everything he gave.
His fingers tangled in her hair, pulling her closer as he dived into the moment he never thought he’d have.
But then she broke the kiss, backing away from him and laying her hands against his chest, though she didn’t leave his embrace. She wouldn’t meet his eyes, just stood there as his arms slipped around her back and his heartbeat pounded against her palms.
She pulled in a ragged breath, let it out, then shuddered another one, tears pooling in her eyes and running down her cheeks. Finally she shook her head and pressed tighter against his chest, pushing him away.
“We can’t do this.” She sidestepped him and walked to the chair in the corner of the room, lifting her laptop with trembling fingers.
“What?” He hated the word. It sounded feeble and pleading. Everything he wasn’t supposed to be. But he’d just held everything in his arms and it was gone. Far from wrecking his focus, this moment solidified his desire to protect her to the end, and now she was separating them. How he sounded was irrelevant.
