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Alexandra tried to shake her head to clear her vision, but couldn’t, and the blurriness not only persisted, but was exacerbated by the speed they were going. One of the men pushed the wheelchair and the other strode at her side while they beat a path through the terminal.
She caught flickers of smiling faces, brightly patterned shirts and dresses, and the heavy scents of the exotic flower-covered carts mingled with the sharpness of jet fuel.
And it was warm. Very warm.
She’d been in Hawaii only once before, shortly after high school graduation. But she remembered the flowers. Leis. The guys in her group had had great fun talking about getting lei’d. It was such a great trip, with everyone so happy.
But now fear obliterated the memories. This was her chance to run, or to tell someone she was being held prisoner. But, besides being unable to move, she couldn’t speak, and screams were trapped in her throat while her heart beat at a nice slow and steady rhythm. Her mind was in full-blown panic mode, while her body didn’t so much as draw a hard breath.
It all started after they’d given her the food from the diner. She felt floaty at first, and unable to put a sentence together, but didn’t seem to care. Even when they pulled off the highway and told her to change into the sweats, she’d complied without thought, concern, or argument. Stripped out of the overalls and crumpled evening dress, right down to a skimpy thong, and although she felt the cold blast of winter as well as their stares, she hadn’t given a flying fig about either—which was so completely not her. But aside from a growing pain between her eyes, she felt completely normal, just mentally detached from reality.
But it was what they’d done to her just before landing in Honolulu that drove fear through her like a tornado. She’d felt a sharp pain in the side of her thigh and looked down to see the agent’s thumb pushing the plunger on a syringe, and she’d felt the burn of the drug being forced into her leg.
Intermuscular administration for horses meant a medication wouldn’t have any effect for up to thirty minutes, but she wasn’t sure what the time frame was for humans.
“You’re feeling nauseous, aren’t you?” The second agent had a tiny tube in his hand. “This will help. Special formula.” He stuck his hand up under her braided hair to create a space, raised the tube and she felt the trickle of liquid on her scalp, just above the back of her neck. Within seconds Alex had a burning need to blink her eyes, over and over again as though she couldn’t stop—until she realized she couldn’t move anything else.
She could feel her body, the clothes against her skin, and the seat she sat in, but couldn’t so much as wiggle a toe. Whatever the hell they’d given her left her physically muted, but her mind wasn’t affected at all. And she could blink.
The plane they were headed for was apparently being held, loaded and ready to push back, but waiting for them to traverse the distance between gates. The man at her side stepped in front of the chair to hand over their boarding passes, and within seconds they were barreling down the narrow ramp.
“Wait!” The shout was from a woman behind them.
There was just the slightest hesitation of forward movement, then Alexandra was being propelled even faster. But pounding feet were getting closer.
“Stop!”
When they did, the first thing Alex saw was an explosion of bright red hair and midnight blue eyes when the woman crouched in front of the chair, clipboard in hand and a gold name tag Alex couldn’t read because it was below her direct line of sight.
“You can’t be boarded if you’re ill.”
“She’s not sick.”
The woman stood. “There are rules. If she has a fever, she can’t fly.” She laid her hand on Alex’s forehead.
Both the agents produced their badges. “She’s our prisoner. Medicated to keep her compliant.”
“It’s a seven-hour flight. Will the meds last? The airline doesn’t want any problems on board. It’s not like the plane can land and let her off when you’re over the Pacific for the next five hours.”
“We’re federal agents and know our job. She’ll be fine.”
She bent to put her hand over Alex’s and stare into her eyes. “If you behave, everything will be okay.”
Alex was certain her words weren’t meaningless platitudes. She knew. Was promising others were aware of what was going on, and help was on the way.
Once they were free to proceed toward the aircraft, the feeling of being protected was reinforced by the direct stare of a man in dingy orange coveralls standing at the end of the loading bridge. Bright yellow earphones hung around his neck, and a big airport ID badge was clipped to his collar.
“I’m here to take the chair down to the hold, but I can carry her inside if you like.” Something about the lilt of Ireland in his voice was comforting.
“The chair’s not ours.”
“Oh, sorry, crossed wires, I guess.” He scooped Alexandra into his arms. “Which seat?”
“One B. Thanks.”
“No worries.” The strong arms and chest made her feel as insubstantial as a cardboard cutout. He lowered her into the window seat.
“I said...”
There was a pause, then nothing as the stranger fastened her seatbelt and whispered directly into her ear, “Help’s waiting.” He straightened her legs, tucked her elbows in alongside the armrests, and an odd tranquility washed over her.
She noticed his hands as he straightened up. They were clean. Didn’t look like worker hands. If she could have, she’d have shrugged. Because what did it matter? She was apparently headed for Texas, and it sounded like help was waiting for her there. She hoped like hell that’s what he meant.
Nothing seemed to matter now. The fear and worry dogging her for days had somehow evaporated. Was it the meds?
Or had the touch of two strangers, and the warmth in the man’s brogue settled her in a way similar to how she was able to calm a fractious horse? Did they have a gift like hers? Or was it the drug? And what kind of chemical could render her powerless over her muscles, yet allow her to stay upright, and blink her eyes. How the hell was that possible? Maybe something that blocked nerve receptors?
Whatever it was, it wasn’t going away, so she’d just have to sit there, staring straight ahead, or close her eyes.
She was afraid to sleep, to give up the last of her control. But that too was taken from her when the agent beside her slipped a tiny pill between her lips and unconsciousness descended slowly enough to be terrifying.
***
Extra abilities made it dead easy for Broughton to blend in with a new team. Not that he liked team work. He preferred solo ops. But here he was, and he’d make the best of it.
It was hot inside the cargo box of the maintenance truck, but even after the driver rolled them into position alongside the plane at gate twenty-two, they had to wait for the loading bridge to be connected. Only then could they engage the lift and enter through the back door.
Broughton mopped sweat from his face, and Gage grinned at him. “Texas heat’s hard on a northerner.”
“I adjusted to the heat in the desert easy enough, but this is different.” He’d been living in a cabin on the outer edge of a reservation in New Mexico for several years, hiding from the man he was now hunting after a long and unsuccessful stint undercover. Not making it into the inner circle still chapped his ass.
An engine whined and the floor shuddered while they were finally raised to the back door of the plane. The sharp bite of Jet A fumes swirled in when the door rolled up.
Aware of what was going on, the flight attendant merely nodded to them, then retreated into the galley, where she’d been instructed to remain until the targets were apprehended.
Gage and Broughton got behind the last of the departing passengers in the narrow aisle, and edged their way toward the front.
Even though they were in the first row, because Alexandra required assistance, she and her captors would have to remain seated until everyone else had disembarked.
Broughton inched forward, helping with overhead luggage while he glanced from the backs of the agents’ heads to the flight attendants standing in the doorway, saying the good-bye, thanks for flying with us stuff. They were doing a good job of maintaining normalcy.
Finally close enough, Broughton signaled, and the flight attendant addressed the agents. “I’ll bring the wheelchair right in as soon as the last person gets by,” she said, then held up her phone. “I’ll just check to make sure the electric cart is waiting as well, to get you to your connecting flight.”
She covered her ear as though having trouble hearing her phone, then stepped out onto the gangway. When she came back in, she said, “Small glitch. The wheelchair is with the cart at the end of the bridge. It would speed things up if one of you wouldn’t mind retrieving it. Unless of course you’d rather carry her to the cart, but it’s a rather long way...”
One agent cut into the line and headed out.
Broughton counted off the seconds, waiting for the sound of a scuffle, but none came. Perfect. One quietly in custody, one to go.
When the last passenger had deplaned, Broughton and Gage crouched in the aisle and waited. The flight attendant said to the remaining agent, “I’ll just make sure your partner knows how to set the brake on the wheelchair. Do you need him to help lift her?”
“No, I’m good.”
“Great, then come along.” And she slipped out.
The instant the agent stood, Broughton and Gage were on him. Jerked his arms behind his back, and shoved his face against the bulkhead.
“What the fuck?”
“Game’s over, pal.”
He turned his head as though to confirm what his ears told him. “Broughton. Fuck. Figured you for a plant way back, but couldn’t prove a thing.”
Hard to believe the way some minds worked. “How the hell could you be sharp enough to make me, yet stay under Rollins’s command? Took me a long time to decide which side of the fence you were on, and I’ve gotta say, it was a fucking piss-off to find out where you stood.”
Angie poked her head in the doorway. “All good here?”
“Yeah.”
Gage shoved the agent through the doorway, passed him to the waiting US Marshals.
Then all attention turned to Alexandra.
Hands folded in her lap, feet squarely on the floor, eyes staring straight ahead. Angie wiggled her tiny frame in so she was nearly in front of Alexandra. “You okay?”
She blinked.
“Got it. Let’s go with twice for yes, once for no. Are you okay?”
She blinked twice.
“Did they drug you?”
Two more blinks.
“Shit.” Angie was instantly on her feet, shoving past Gage and Broughton. “I need to find out what they gave her. Take her to the Steed, and I’ll catch up.” She took off at a run.
“Why didn’t she just call the marshals and get them to ask?”
Gage grinned. “I’m guessing she’s planning to deck somebody.”
“And you say she’s mellowed since she got married?”
“Oh, yeah.”
***
Alexandra desperately wanted to turn her head to see what was going on. A hand settled on her shoulder.
“Hey, you’re safe now. My name’s Broughton, and this is Gage. We’re the good guys, and we’re gonna get you out of here.” He flipped up the dividers and propped one knee on the seat beside her. “First I’ve gotta ask. Do you hurt anywhere? Have any pain?”
She blinked once.
“Good, then I’ll just slip my hands under and lift you.”
When she was safely in his arms, tilted so she was leaning against him, his body heat warmed her, even though she hadn’t been aware of feeling cold, and the smell of coffee on his breath was oddly comforting as he held her high over the seatbacks, and made his way to the rear door of the plane.
They must have come in through a back door. Took clout to pull off something like this airside. From dealing with horses on planes, she was well aware of how strict security was on the tarmac. Or at least it was at home in Kentucky. She’d never been to DFW, but it was fairly safe to assume security would be just as strict here as anywhere else in the country.
Broughton leaned against the wall while they were lowered from the side of the plane, and about halfway down, the door rolled shut, but thank heavens there was an interior light.
“It’s going to get pretty hot in here for a minute or two,” he said, and the rumble of his voice vibrated against her. He could have set her down, but she was glad he didn’t.
When the back opened again, Gage jumped out and Broughton passed her down to him. She caught a glimpse of a dull silver helicopter as Broughton hopped into it and Gage handed her up to him. She felt like a bucket of water in a fire line, but there wasn’t a damn thing she could do about it.
Once Broughton strapped her into a seat, he held a helmet in front of her and said, “We have to wear these. But they’ve got speakers built in, so I can still talk to you, and if the drugs wear off, you can talk to me too.” He eased it over her head and, with gentle fingers, checked the edges to make sure her hair wasn’t caught.
When he crouched in front of her, she noticed what a dark blue his eyes were. “You okay still?” His voice sounded different now. She blinked twice.
“Angie should be back any minute, and we’ll be on our way.”
From where Alexandra was sitting, she could see between the front seats and out the windscreen. Nothing to view but a bunch of shipping pallets. But then someone climbed into the pilot seat, and within minutes she could feel the vibration of the craft starting up.
When the pilot turned and gave Alexandra a wave, she was surprised to see it was Angie, the woman who’d gone after the agents. A tiny thing with short red hair, bright green eyes, and an obvious attitude. Very different from the redhead in Hawaii, although she’d seemed just as confident.
“Got some info on the drug they used on you. It’s not something I’ve ever heard of, but my sister, Eve, is a whiz at this kind of thing, so she’ll have you back to yourself in no time. Well, once we get to the ranch and she gets her hands on you, anyway.”
If nothing else, that sounded promising. Alex just hoped this ranch was close by, or she was afraid she was going to be horribly embarrassed. She hadn’t peed in hours, and she didn’t know if she currently had any control over that function.
Great, here I am being lugged around the country like an old sack of potatoes, and all I’m worried about is wetting myself. Funny how the embarrassment factor hadn’t even occurred to her until she’d been in the strong arms of the gorgeous man called Broughton. Was that his first name? Or his last name? Didn’t matter, because it suited him. Fit. Just like the strong, tanned forearms, and a deep voice that waltzed up her backbone and rested there as a warm presence.
Wait a minute. The Irish guy in Hawaii, the one who’d carried her to her seat, he made her heart flutter too. Was it something to do with the drugs in her system? She’d best be careful. If laughter had been physically possible, she’d be laughing at herself right now, at the weird directions her thoughts were going.
Best to switch a gear and pay attention to what was going on around her. Sure. All she could see was sky. Miles and miles of sky. Would that be nautical miles? And what made a nautical mile different from other miles? She groaned. Well, at least that’s what she did mentally while her body still refused to cooperate.
Fear edged in. What if this was permanent? What if they couldn’t reverse the effect of the drugs? She suddenly had insight into the plight of those with spinal cord injuries, or stroke victims. Was blinking yes or no the extent of her future? No, dammit!
Shout. She needed to shout no! This couldn’t be happening to her. She was an active person. Had a great veterinary practice, with hundreds of horses and horsemen relying on her knowledge and instincts. She couldn’t be trapped like this in a body she had no control over.
Blinking wasn’t enough. Not by a long shot. But this wasn’t something she could muscle through. Her usual go-to attitude of grit and determination wasn’t enough. Her body had been tampered with. And out of the blue, a funny thought surfaced. She was freaking out, working her way to a panic attack, and not even drawing a hard breath. Hell, she couldn’t even hyperventilate. Not that hyperventilating was something she was prone to, but still. Freaking out like this should have visceral accompaniment, but there were no physical manifestations, just slow, even breathing. No pounding heart, no skin dampened by nervous sweat, and certainly no shakiness. She wasn’t numb, but might as well be.
“You okay?” Broughton was leaning forward so she could see him.
She blinked once.
He crouched in front of her. “Something’s wrong?”
Two blinks.
“Man, this is hard with the yes and no thing.” Frowning, he stared at her as though trying to see words in her eyes. “Does something hurt?”
Blink.
“Do you have a question?”
Blink. Blink.
“Where are we going?”
Blink.
“When will we get there?”
Blink.
Angie asked, “Are you scared?” Obviously the helmets all linked through microphones.
“Two blinks,” said Broughton.
“Is it about the drugs?” asked Angie.
Broughton interpreted the blinks. “That’s it.” He laid his hands over hers.
“My sister, Eve, is a doctor,” said Angie. “So’s my husband, for that matter, but Eve is the kind who is extremely well versed in bizarre stuff. I contacted her as soon as I got the name out of the idiots, and Eve said that although she knows the drug, she wasn’t aware of the effect you’re experiencing, so she figures it was combined with something else, which she’s researching while we’re in the air, and expects to be able to fix you up when we land, which will be in less than an hour.”
“Does that help?” asked Broughton.
When she blinked twice, he sat back in the seat beside her, but kept hold of her hand, and for that she was thankful. Her future still looked uncertain, but it seemed like these people were competent, so she’d just have to trust them for now. Hah. Like she had any choice.
Funny, she thought. She’d dedicated her life to communicating with horses, looking after the welfare of creatures she shared no language with. But never had she walked a mile in their shoes. Not that she was walking now, but it gave her a greater understanding of the need to communicate. She was incredibly adept at reading the body language of the horses, but never had she imagined what it would be like if she were working in the dark, unable to see them. That’s where she was now.
“I suppose we should expand on our introductions,” said Gage. “We all work for Meyers Security.”
“Even though I’m not a Meyer,” added Broughton. “And, for the record, these two, who look nothing alike, are brother and sister.”
Gage laughed. “The brothers all got our parents’ height, but Angie and Eve are throwbacks to Annie MacDonald, our dad’s tiny Scottish mother. Meyers HQ is on the family ranch, which is where we’re headed. We specialize in keeping people safe, or rescuing those who are in trouble. Just to give you the basics, most of us are retired Green Berets, or ex federal agents, but we also have a couple of medical doctors and researchers on the team.
“I bet you’re wondering why the hell you were kidnapped,” said Broughton. “It’s complicated, but bottom line, it wasn’t about you, but because you’re a dead ringer for someone else.”
“That sounds like they took you by mistake,” said Angie. “But it was on purpose, as a means of distraction.” While Angie told the story behind the abduction, pieces slid into place. Alexandra thought about that chance meeting with Rollins and marveled how each crossing of paths in a person’s life had meaning.
Sometimes you’d learn what that meaning was. Other times not. And if one could go back and change even one instant, everything that came after would also be changed.
That’s why she’d always been a strong believer in having no regrets, and accepting reality for what it was, just a moment in time.
The warm hand holding hers squeezed lightly when the helicopter set down. It was as though Broughton was saying he was there for her. Or was it good-bye?
He crouched in front of her to unfasten the safety harness, and she got a close-up of his hair. Thick, brown, and sun-streaked, with a surprising amount of gray sprinkled in. Maybe he was older than she’d first thought. It was always harder to tell the age of a man who spent a lot of time outdoors—as this one must, from the look of him.
He reached under her seat and she suddenly found herself sliding sideways all the way to the door, then being spun to face out. Gage reached up to grab her legs while Broughton lifted her from behind, and they lowered her onto a waiting stretcher. Better this way. She’d been starting to like being carried by a strong man, but she was certain her bladder was eventually going to let go.
Gage popped off her helmet. “There you go. Do you want to stay sitting up? Or leaned back?”
“Idiot,” said Angie when Alexandra didn’t blink. “One question at a time. Do you want to lie down?”
Alexandra blinked once.
“Gage has it,” she said, and Alexandra felt the thin mattress come up against her back.
Now she was adrift, floating above the ground while she was rolled into a vehicle. No comforting arms holding her, just wide web straps. There were loud sounds she hoped meant the gurney was being secured, but there was no one beside her and she felt very, very alone. And vulnerable.