Chapter Seven

Erika crouched down, keeping her profile low enough to blend into the crowd as Berlin altered his course, heading toward her. Fighting out in the open wasn’t an option. There were too many risks to those around them and she couldn’t put others in jeopardy or make the five o’clock news. Not to mention the fact someone could snap a picture for social media, which would be a whole other kind of disaster.

If she thought confronting him would be productive, she’d do it. What would it accomplish? With their training he wouldn’t give up information. She’d have to kill him or he wouldn’t hesitate to do the same. If she could get to Queen Elizabeth Park, she might be able to slip aboard a boat and disappear. Problem solved. At least until she could investigate who’d put the bounty on her head and why. Berlin was one of her own, which pointed to the agency sending him. And that was just impossible.

Jogging, weaving in and out of foot traffic, she took a sharp right.

She risked a glance back. Damn. He was fifty feet behind her. If she pushed harder, she might make it to the water in time. There were enough people and trees in the way to ensure he couldn’t get a good line on her.

Erika dug deeper, forcing herself into a dead run through burning thighs. There’d be fewer people at the park this time of day even with the picnicking lunch crowd. As soon as he got a clean shot, he’d take it.

She managed to put a little distance between them. Another backward glance said he was a good seventy feet. This was where things would get tricky. Weaving, which would prevent him from getting a straight shot, would slow her progress. With the sails in sight, she was getting closer to the water. But was she close enough to reach it before he caught up to her?

A bullet zinged past her left ear in answer.

That meant Berlin had to be holding his gun in his left hand. Otherwise the bullet would’ve come from the right since he was directly behind her. If she had to fight, she needed to disable his strong side first. Berlin was left-handed. She tucked away the information and pressed on.

Zigzagging, Erika’s pulse raced as she pushed harder. At least the latest kick of adrenaline staved off her headache for now. When it wore off, she’d need a quiet black room and ice packs but for now she could think clearly.

Breaking the tree line, she made a final push toward the water. Berlin couldn’t be far behind. She could hear his measured breathing.

There was no time to find a boat, no time to do anything except jump.

She dove into the water as another bullet zinged past.

The shock of total immersion in freezing-cold water engulfed her. Her lungs clawed for air in the forty-eight degree temperatures. A less fit person would go into cardiac arrest. Even with her conditioning, she had only a few minutes before her muscles would begin shutting down and she’d sink. Drown. Even less given how much energy she’d expend trying to stay afloat.

Once she managed dry land again, she’d have to consider hypothermia.

Before she could break the surface, Berlin came crashing down next to her. He reached for her arm to keep from sinking lower and managed a handful of her shirt.

Erika thrust her foot forward as she was dragged down with him. The toe of her boot connected with his stomach with enough force to break his hold. As he shot downward, she pushed off his shoulder.

Just before breaking surface, he caught her heel and dragged her down again. She had maybe thirty seconds of oxygen left before she would pass out and drown. He didn’t need to shoot her. All he needed to do was keep her from breathing for a few more seconds.

She’d have to swim now to reach life-giving air.

Erika grabbed two handfuls of Berlin’s pitch-black hair and thrust her knee into his face. She connected, forcing air bubbles out of his mouth. Now he needed air, too.

Punching, kicking, she had no plans to give up without a fight.

Another ten seconds and the job of killing her would be done for him.

With one last burst of energy, Erika struggled to break his grasp. Even if she freed herself, there was no guarantee she’d make it to the surface in time.

Dizzy, light-headed, she grabbed a handful of his balls, squeezing with relentless force.

More bubbles exploded from his mouth and his grip on her eased. She punched his left arm—his strong side—and then pushed off him, praying she’d break the surface in time. There wasn’t a second to lose.

Erika pushed through in scarcely enough time to catch a breath. She immediately folded over, swimming like a banshee toward shore. Her arms already moved slower.

They’d drifted out a good twenty yards and she expected Berlin to jerk her backward at any moment.

He didn’t.

She didn’t turn to see why not.

In fact, as soon as she pulled herself out of the water she stumbled, her movements hampered by the heavy weight of her thoroughly soaked clothes. Her boots sloshed. A chilly wind wrapped around her. Shivers racked her body.

She needed dry clothes and warmth soon.

If Berlin were alive, he’d have an easy shot before she broke through the tree line. Half expecting to feel a bullet rip through her, she managed to make it to the street where she hailed a cab.

A few passed by before one seemed to take pity on her and stop.

“Hey, you forgot to wear your swimsuit today,” an older man quipped with a smile as he hopped out to open the door for her. She never knew what kind of driver she’d get in Vancouver, crabby or outgoing. Given her condition, she was relieved this one seemed to have a sense of humor. It would make the ride easier if she made a few jokes and he laughed instead of him asking questions.

“Yeah. I was fishing when I got too close and fell in,” she played it off.

He moved around to the trunk, returning with a thick cotton blanket. “That should keep you from catching pneumonia.”

She thanked him as he returned to his seat.

“What were you fishing for?”

“A man,” she said, breaking a smile and trying to stop her teeth from chattering.

He laughed, adjusted the rearview and eyed her again as he shifted into drive. “Where to?”

Erika positioned the blanket over her as cover, and then slipped out of her wet clothes. She pulled dry clothes from her pack and dressed. “Million Air field. You know where that airstrip is?”

He eyed her through the rearview as though assessing her mental state. It was obvious she had no poles or fishing gear and she didn’t look like someone who could afford a private jet.

“Sure thing. You some kind of movie star or something? I don’t get out to the movies much, so I wouldn’t know.”

“No. But if you get me there quick I’ll tip you like I am.”

He nodded, smiled and floored the gas pedal. “Deal.”

Erika’s head shot back as she wrapped the blanket around her. Warm, dry clothes were the equivalent of the blaze of a nearby campfire.

The cab driver held up a coffee cup. “Just bought this. Looks like you need it more than I do.”

She thanked him graciously as she took the offering. Hypothermia was only one of her problems. Why would one of her own come after her?

The logical answer to why another officer would come after her was one she couldn’t fathom. No way would Murdock mark her as a traitor and send someone to eliminate her. He knew her better than that. He was like a father to her, for fuck’s sake. His devotion to Sanctuary was unmatched. He was one of the good guys. Period. Besides, he’d covered for her more than once. And yet, he’d sent her after Jace.

Totally different circumstances, she told herself.

Even so, she’d lay low for a few days while she figured out what was going on and who was involved. She knew just the place.

Erika tried not to think about the fact that she, like Jace, preferred hiding in plain sight over remote locations. Give her a spot near an airport, train station and bus lines any day over trees and open acreage. She’d been trained to survive under every condition and had no doubt she could. Still, if she had her pick she’d choose urban every time. Besides, she felt more like herself in a place where her black hair and blue streak fit in, even though both would have to go.

On the ride to the private airstrip, she verified Charlie would be arriving soon.

He confirmed.

If she were Jace, she’d go to Seattle, which was precisely the reason she’d decided on the desert.

Leaning deeper into the seat, she closed her eyes for the rest of the twenty-minute drive as she tried to get her body to stop shaking from cold.

The brakes groaned. The cab came to a stop. The airstrip was in front of her.

Charlie, a sight for sore eyes, waited on the tarmac.

Erika handed the driver a stack of twenties, tossed her backpack over her shoulder, thankful she hadn’t lost it in the water, and climbed out of the backseat.

Her teeth had stopped chattering and her core body temperature had risen to a reasonable temperature. Even so, she was exhausted.

She walked toward her pilot, a civilian and one of the many connections she’d made in her eight years at the agency. He flew mostly film executives, actors and actresses. He took on the occasional side job to put his kids through Ivy Leagues in the lower forty-eight, grumbling about Canadian colleges charging pennies in comparison. His kids had grown up trailing their father everywhere and he loved all things American, so he’d said he had no one to blame but himself.

“Where to, love?” Charlie asked, extending his hand to reach for her backpack. “You look like you swam here.”

“South. And, thanks, but I got this.” He only ever needed a general direction. They’d worked out years ago that she’d give him the destination once they were in the air. She climbed the stairs to his jet. “And I feel like I did.”

He smiled and retrieved a bag from the cockpit. “I never know what shape you’re going to be in. I’ve learned to be prepared for everything. Brought aspirin and a thick blanket.”

“Well, now you really are a Boy Scout,” she teased, grateful. She took the bag, thanked him and excused herself to take her seat in the back.

Emptiness settled over her as she buckled herself in the leather seat. Exhaustion won out and she tried to relax. There’d be no sleep, only a returning headache and a stack of unanswered questions.

Once they were stabilized in the air, she relayed her destination as Las Vegas.

Before she slipped over the border, which would be any minute, she needed to destroy her phone. No looking back.

In a moment of weakness, she decided to check her personal cell one last time. Even though it was for the best, her heart ached at the thought of breaking all connections with Jace.

For a long moment she stared at his name in her contacts list, her finger hovering over the envelope icon marked Messaging with a small number five on the top right.

Erika took a deep breath and touched the icon.

The first message read, “What the fuck?” The second read, “Why are you flipping out?” Her gaze moved to the third, hungry for answers. It read, “Is this about last night? Nothing has to change.” Was there any chance he hadn’t made her? Could she have this plane turned around and go back? Had she acted too hastily?

By the fourth message, her resolve was shrinking. It read, “I know who you really are and I don’t care. Be careful. This is bigger than you realize. Don’t trust anyone.”

Heat washed over her, but it wasn’t the heat of embarrassment that she’d been made, it was the flush of missing Jace. Her skin cried out to feel his body against hers.

His warning was timed to moments before she’d encountered Berlin. It was possible he’d been watching Jace and had discovered her. Berlin might not know who she worked for. He might’ve believed Jace was using her to store information in her place without her knowledge. When she bolted, Berlin might’ve thought she was in deeper.

Erika put her feelings in check and took a deep breath. Either way, she’d been made by Jace. Protocol required her to report it. And yet, she had to know what was on the file first. If she’d given this man a piece of her heart—and there was no question she had—she had to know what he’d gotten himself into. It was the only chance she might be able to help him get out. And maybe they’d both live.

The final message read, “Erika, please meet me on Mercer Island. Southern tip at the boat house. Four days from now. I’m in deep and I need to know how high up this goes. You’re the only person I trust. Nothing is what it looks like. I had no choice but to hide before. I have something of yours to return and I need to see you.”

Why would he want to meet in four days other than to get back the files and then kill her? This had to be a trap, no matter how badly her heart wanted to believe Jace actually wanted to see her.

And he must know she’d transmitted the data to headquarters already. Or maybe he figured she hadn’t had time.

If instructions or code had been embedded inside a photo, which was the most likely scenario, Jace had to know the receiver needed to know what they were looking for in order to find it. Decrypting or decoding a message could take days, weeks or months, even with the resources Sanctuary had. Even then, it wasn’t a sure thing.

Erika took the SIM card and battery out of the phone. She pulled wire cutters from the pilot’s tool box and destroyed the SIM, trying not to think about how badly she needed a drag off a cigarette.

Three hours later, the plane landed on a private air strip in Las Vegas, a city designed to accommodate people who needed discretion.

Charlie, who seemed to have sensed her bad mood, had kept quiet during the flight. As he set the plane down nice and easy, he finally spoke, “I arranged a limo for you this time.”

“Thank you.”

“Anything going on you want to talk about?”

“Work troubles.” Those pair of words didn’t begin to cover the half of it, but Charlie was a need-to-know type. He wasn’t a friend. Hers wasn’t a life built around backyard BBQs and pool parties. And yet, her existence had never felt empty before. Not since she’d lost her mother did she crave the familiar like she did right now.

Those migraines must be screwing with her head. As it was, a vise gripped her by the temples.

“What’s my cover story?” she asked Charlie as he docked the jet.

“You’re an up-and-coming musician out of the UK”

She rolled her eyes and laughed. “Guess I look the part today.”

He handed her a half-empty bottle of vodka. “You will now.”

Taking a swig to ensure her breath encouraged the lie, Erika suppressed a cough. The burning liquid felt good on her throat. She wiped her mouth then poured a few dabs of liquor onto her T-shirt. She tied the bottom, revealing her toned abs. “Better?”

“Perfection.” He paused. “You need anything else? Want me to wait here?”

“No, thanks. You’ve been a huge help already. I’ll give you a ring the next time I need a lift.”

He opened the door and let the stairs down.

“Did you get those other items I requested?” she asked.

“Sure did.” Charlie reached around to the side of his seat and pulled out a paper grocery sack filled with necessities.

Erika handed him twenty-five thousand dollars in cash and winked before descending the stairs. “Thanks for the ride.”

“My pleasure, love. You know my cell.”

A quick smile and nod backward came before she took the stairs one at a time, slowly, gripping the bottle of vodka in her right hand as she checked her balance with the left.

The musician idea was brilliant, and she had no problem selling it with her blue mood. A short bald man opened the door of a white stretch limo before driving her to the Cartier Hotel—a pinnacle of Vegas extravagance and showy lights.

Moving through the crush of people, bumping shoulders as she made her way toward the hotel brought a sense of normalcy to her life. The vertigo she’d been experiencing on the plane had nothing to do with her headache and everything to do with missing Jace.

Stopping at the concierge desk, she asked for a laptop to be delivered to her room. The man behind the desk nodded. She slipped him a stack of bills as a tip. Her choices wouldn’t be questioned in a town like Vegas where the show wasn’t limited to what was onstage.

Her suite was on a floor that could only be accessed with a special elevator key, a necessary precaution now that Jace Mitchell knew everything. His text message, his concern, was most likely a distraction meant to disarm her. She couldn’t risk letting her guard down. And yet, her heart wished she could believe there was another reason he wanted to see her other than needing her for back-up. If she updated her boss, Murdock would send an assassin to Mercer. That would be the end of it.

She couldn’t even allow herself to think about Jace dying or never getting her necklace back. Her mind couldn’t go there, let alone her heart. She’d fallen hard for him. There was precious little left of her mother, especially since Erika’s memories were fading.

Looking back wasn’t an option. The past was pain.

The concierge had said he’d have a computer to her within the hour. That would give her enough time to shower and change before she started digging around for answers. She slipped off her boots, secured her weapons and undressed.

She popped a couple of pain relievers on her way into the shower.

Warm water sluiced her body and Erika practically cried with joy as the liquid eased her tense muscles. The past twenty-four hours had been both the best and worst of her life.

She gave herself the luxury of an extra five minutes in the shower before toweling off and opening the other bag from Charlie.

Scissors and hair bleach were her two new best friends.

By the time her laptop arrived, Erika was dressed and blonde with a pixie cut. She switched out the ID in her purse to match, and then headed downstairs to buy a hat, big glasses, a swimsuit and a sundress at the sundry shop.

Within fifteen minutes, she’d secured the items on her list and was back in her room with the laptop in front of her.

Even now, her body craved Jace’s touch. And since he was most likely trying to set her up so he could kill her, seeing him wasn’t a viable option anymore. Was it?

So, basically, she’d better get used to being alone. Damn, that word felt empty.

Now that she was cleaned up, she needed a good meal and some alone time with the computer. Her need to know exactly what Jace was involved in was more than professional curiosity at this point. A weak need from deep inside her wanted to be close to him. In some small way, a piece of her heart felt like these lines of code were the only connection she had to him.

It was important to keep up her strength so she ordered a BLT and soup from room service. Then, she retrieved the thumb drive and plugged it in, waiting.

The file labeled Pictures housed more than five hundred photos. She was looking for a needle in a freakin’ haystack. Tech could be working on this for months if she couldn’t give them better parameters, but another need caused her to examine every shot—a deep-rooted desire to know who else might be in Jace’s life.

There were no people, only seemingly random snaps of nature and cityscapes from around the world. Were they places he’d visited? Carried out assignments? Did they tell a story? If she stared at them long enough, would they give her any insight into the man she’d fallen for? A piece of her hoped she’d see a picture of him and yet she knew he wouldn’t be that careless. She glanced at the throwaway phone she’d set next to the computer, thinking how easy it would be to reach out to him. His number had been committed to memory.

The thought of making contact sent a sensual shiver racing down her back. His lips on hers, his body on top of her pressing her into the mattress and the skill with which he’d destroyed her with an orgasm made her want to punch the numbers on the cell. If she asked him to show up, would he?

His last text message wound through her thoughts.

Her fingers trembled as she picked up the untraceable phone Charlie had bought for her. She wished she’d kept her personal one. At least she could see Jace’s words.

The way her heart burned it felt as if her chest might explode if she didn’t hear his voice one more time. Even though her mind hadn’t completely trusted him before, her body had. She’d fallen asleep in his bed, allowed him to care for her when she was sick. Didn’t that mean something?

When she really thought about it, he’d picked her up in that bar three weeks ago. He had to have known who she was all along. Before she could talk herself out of it, she punched in numbers on the cell, telling herself that she was only calling to arrange a way to get her necklace back.

He answered on the second ring.

“What’s going on, Jace?”

“You ran off before we could talk.” God, his voice slid through her, warming her, making her want dangerous things. Talking to him without being able to see him formed an ache in her chest. She dug her fingernail into her palm.

“I think we both know I had no choice. Did you know about the guy at my place?”

“God, no. What happened?”

“I left him in Victoria Harbor. At the bottom of the ocean.”

“There was more than a good chance I was being followed. That’s why I warned you to be careful. You weren’t the only one sent to find me.” He sounded tired.

“From the agency?”

“There are others.” Erika didn’t like the sound of this. Assigning more assets meant that Murdock didn’t trust her to get the job done. She had another random thought…all leads seemed to bring her right back to Sanctuary.

“What did you do to get all this attention?”

“You haven’t figured any of it out yet?”

“No.”

“Let’s get together to talk.”

“Not a good idea.”

“Why not? I fucking miss you, Erika. You’re the only person in this screwed-up world I feel like I can trust.” God help her, but she felt the same way. Her training had taught her to ignore feelings, to go with facts and informed decisions, anything else and she could make a deadly mistake. Her heart had other ideas. Just like making this phone call. And yet it felt right to talk to Jace.

“I know,” she said quietly, ignoring the cavern in her chest, the ache.

“Then agree to see me.” He suggested the only way to make things worse.

“I’d like my necklace back.”

“I’ll bring it.” His voice sounded hopeful and that hurt even more.

“That’s too dangerous,” she countered.

“Why? Because you have feelings for me?”

“I have a P.O. box. You can mail it. Or just send it to Sanctuary. You remember where that is, don’t you?”

When Jace didn’t response, she asked, “Who called you when we were at your place?”

“One of the guys whose been working on this with me. Said he had new information and wanted to meet.”

“And?”

“When I got there, he was dead. I got the hell out of there the second I discovered someone else had gotten to him first. The worst part is that I saw the guy walking out of the building as I cased it five minutes before. It just didn’t click at first.”

If Berlin had been sent to spy on Jace, it made sense the man would watch her, too. But then keeping an eye on someone and trying to put a bullet through their skull were two very different things.

Jace had taken a shower before leaving. If he’d been on time, would his contact still be alive?

“What did the guy look like? Do you remember?” Of course he did. Stupid question.

“Crisp suit. Clean cut. Dark hair. Looked European. I think I’ve seen him before overseas. Maybe Germany. I know he has ties to an organization in the Eastern Bloc we call Exacto.”

“Berlin?” The guy could’ve been using a relationship with Exacto as a cover, but he was Agency.

“It very well could be.”

“That’s the guy who came to my apartment.” Jace couldn’t have sent Berlin. No way would he be talking about it with her if he had. “What are they looking for, Jace?”

“Me.”

“He’s Agency.” Meaning he worked for Murdock.

“I know.”

“You think he’s playing both sides?” She had to cover every possibility.

“It’s possible. The information I uncovered is valuable to Exacto.”

“What do you have?”

“I’m not talking about it over the phone.” He got quiet. “Besides, I need to see you, Erika. Will you trust me?”

Those last two words were as foreign to her as love. When was the last time she really put her faith in anyone? Allowed someone to care about her? Murdock was the closest thing she had to family, and yet, she was as suspicious of him as she was everyone else. Then again, he’d trained her to be that way. “I don’t even know you.”

“I grew up in Virginia in what was supposed to be the perfect suburban family. Dear Dad was a decorated colonel. Mom stayed at home to take care of the family. We lived in a white colonial in a neighborhood with the best schools.”

“Sounds nice.”

“It was…to an outsider.”

“What does that mean?”

“My parents took great pains to ensure they kept up appearances. Mom hid her bourbon in the laundry room. Dad liked to use her for a punching bag as a way to deal with his stress but he never touched her face. There wasn’t much I could do about it when I was a kid. By the time I could handle myself with the old man she begged me not to. When I pleaded with her to let me do something about it she said she didn’t want my help. I was smart enough to get good grades and the hell out of there. I got a degree in Economics from Boston College with a double minor in Arabic and Mandarin. Straight out of college I got a knock on the door and figured I’d spend my life working on the CIA’s business side. I would’ve gone into the military but the old man ruined it for me. He stained it with his actions. No way was I following in his footsteps, even though our home ran tighter than any military barracks. Two years into my new job I got tapped by Murdock.”

“And discovered you had a darker side.”

“Yeah, something like that.” He paused. “I don’t visit my parents. I was probably the only one in the agency who didn’t have people show up on Family Day.”

“Given what you told me, I’m surprised. Wouldn’t they want to keep up the facade?”

“I didn’t invite them. I have no stomach for bullshit. Once I got out of their home I had nothing else to say to either one of them.” The bitterness in his tone was a knife to her chest. He was opening old wounds, hurting, and everything inside her wanted to reach out to him and somehow make it better. Pain was the one thing Erika could always relate to.

“Are you an only child?” She shouldn’t keep talking to him because he was getting inside her head. And a traitorous part of her believed in him, wanted him there.

“I had a sister.”

“But you don’t stay in touch with her?” It wasn’t really a question.

“I tried at first. They told her I’d shipped out overseas and limited our contact. She was so caught up in being the perfect daughter, doing everything they expected of her, it was hard to make a real connection. Then it just became easier to slip into my dark hole and disappear. Guess that makes me an asshole.”

“Or just a human being.”

“After the things I’ve done, no one would accuse me of that.” There was a hint of sadness to his normally self-assured voice. It was too subtle to be fake.

Jace, his voice, was cracking through her walls. She couldn’t afford to allow it. “We knew the deal when we signed on.”

“Yeah, sure. I was twenty-six years old. I knew what I wanted for dinner that day, not what signing up for this life would do to my future.”

“So you regret it?”

“Not really. I don’t know who I am without this job anymore.”

“I need to know what’s going on if you want me to help you, Jace.”

“Is that what you want? To come to my aid? Or are you playing with me to find out what’s on the information you stole?” His tone was razor sharp, and just as cutting.

“I was trying to do my job. Don’t take it personally,” she shot back, not wanting to reveal just how much it hurt. “And don’t call me until you’re ready to deal.”

* * *

Daylight was giving way to dusk for the second night when Erika saw a shadow hovering from the light beneath her door. Someone was out there, lurking, and she was no closer to figuring out what was on the thumb drive. Everything she tried to learn about Exacto was classified as above her pay grade.

She jumped into action, palming her SIG Sauer and a camera the size of a writing pen. Her weapon led the way, aimed chest-level at whoever was on the other side of that door. A body shot would be her best option since it didn’t require as much precision.

Following the movement of the person outside, her weapon zigzagged left to right.

She glued herself to the wall, moving forward without making a sound, in case he slipped a camera—some of which were no larger than the head of a needle—under the door.

A flutter in her chest accompanied the thought it could be Jace.

She bent down and placed the pen at the side of the crook in the door, angled toward the person connected to the shadow. His shoes were three and a half feet from the door, men’s work boots. She shifted the camera to scan him, staring into the wireless handheld screen in her palm.

Jace.

Her heart stuttered as her body flushed with heat. She didn’t want to admit just how much she wanted to open the door and run into his arms. Except that she couldn’t be sure she could trust him.

Jace paced, looking as though he was trying to decide whether or not to knock. With him this close her insides heated, softening her bones to the consistency of warm Jell-O.

She steadied herself as he crouched low. Try to slip something lethal under the door, buddy, and see what happens.

With her left hand wrapped the around the door lever and her gun in her right, Erika was ready to spring into action.

He slid a loosely folded piece of paper under the door and then folded his arms.