The aquarium had been torn apart. Dane struggled with the three German police officers who kept him from running into the hotel following the spectacular crash that had literally shaken the asphalt.
He’d seen Uther, helped along by an unidentified man, run to safety seconds after the explosion. Grabbing a BND agent, Dane pointed them out, and sent him to secure Uther.
Now, less than three minutes after the disaster, the hotel manager had cautioned that the entire building could come down if the explosion had threatened the integrity of the structure.
“Bugger that, she’s still inside!” Dane shouted to the officers who held him back. “There’s a woman inside.”
“Bleiben sie hier!”
“It is not safe!”
Dane continued to struggle. Much as he’d been working in opposition to Becca the past few days, there was no way he could turn and walk away from this disaster without her. New York was one hell of a tough woman. But she wasn’t a superhero. He should have been at her side to protect—
Catching sight of the slender, drenched figure walking through the shattered lobby doors, Dane stopped struggling. A massive chunk of acrylic—part of the aquarium—sliced through one of the doors in her wake. She didn’t blink or turn.
“Un-sodding-believable.”
She’d made it. The New York dame had actually made it!
“Let me go.”
Dane tore away from the officers and ran across the parking lot toward the most incredible sight he knew he would ever see.
Shivering, and soaked from head to single shoe, Becca stumbled across the parking lot, which was littered with fresh snow. Fat snowflakes fluttered from the sky. She held something in her hands, both cupped to her chest. At the sight of him, she cracked a weary smile.
“Been for a swim,” she said, her words slurred.
Dane got to her as she toppled into his arms. The black-and-white fish she’d had hold of slipped free and landed on the snowy pavement. He supported her so she could stand.
“Dane?”
“You’re safe, love. I can’t believe it, but you made it out.”
“The fish. You gotta save it. No innocents should suffer. It wasn’t their fault.”
“I’ll get an agent on it. Right now I’m more worried about the warm-blooded creatures.”
Nodding to one of the horror-stricken people loitering on the sidewalk, Dane silently ordered he tend the fish. Which, surprisingly, the man did.
“That was an awesome ride.”
“I’ll bet. Did I tell you already you’re an incredible woman?”
“You can tell me again. Did I…” Shivering violently, Becca coiled against Dane’s chest. Her lips were already beginning to blue. “Did I mention I don’t like large bodies of water?”
Despite himself, Dane chuckled.
Dane had conjured a thick wool blanket from one of the ambulance techs, and somehow Becca had been given a pair of boots. They were five sizes too big for her feet, and made her feel as if she was clomping about in cement blocks, but they kept back the cold, so she wasn’t complaining. But somewhere along the line she’d lost her gold choker. Which pissed her off.
Dane hadn’t let her get more than a foot away from him while he tried to locate the officer he’d sent after Uther.
“You find them?” she prompted.
Dane looked around. Weary-eyed civilians milled about in scattered crowds. “I still can’t place the officer I sent after them. Sod it! I didn’t even recognize Dimitri. He was in the hotel?”
“He plucked Uther off the top of the aquarium as we were making our escape.”
“You still have the stones?”
“Right here.” She patted her left pocket.
“Can I…hold them?”
“You never give up, do you, Dane?”
He embraced her. The warmth emanating from his body and seeping into Becca’s pores felt ridiculously calming. “Relax. Go sit inside one of the ambulances before you turn into an ice-pop. You okay?”
“Perfectly fine. Just a couple more bruises to add to my collection.” A monstrous sigh formed a cloud in the chilly air before her. Unable to disregard a silly worry, she muttered, “What about the fish?”
“Fish and Wildlife has been called in to salvage as many as they can.” He tapped her skull. “I meant, are you okay…in here. I can see you’ve got bruises and scrapes, but what are you thinking? Talk to me, love.”
“Stop calling me love. I’m not your love.”
She stomped away, hands on her hips. The movement exposed more of her flesh to the cold air, but she couldn’t even summon a shiver. A sweep of the parking lot revealed moaning and crying civilians, and a barrage of police vehicles and ambulances. As far as she knew, everyone had gotten out safely.
Had this been a result of Dimitri’s attempt to take her out? Why such a drastic process when a simple bullet to her brain would have sufficed? So many could have suffered, or worse, died, had the hotel not been cleared.
And now he had Uther Magnusson.
Turning abruptly, she slammed into Dane’s body. It was difficult to push away from his dreamy warmth. She wanted to hug him. To wrap her legs and arms around him and suck out all the heat. And so she did.
Snuggling into his trench coat and tucking her head against his neck, she closed her eyes and stilled her thoughts.
Dane tugged the blanket firmly about her shoulders. Then he slipped his hands up under the wool and around her back, pressing her even closer to his body heat. “Take all you want, love—sorry, Ms. Whitmore.”
A tear threatened, but Becca stopped the urge. Much as she wanted to coil up and have a good old bawling session, now was not the time. Secret agents did not cry. They got the job done. No tears, no fears.
But Dane was right. A little fear never hurt.
Standing in oversize boots that wouldn’t allow her to step too close without crushing his feet, she leaned into him and clung mindlessly. Ah, body heat. Delicious. “You can call me love.”
“You’re remarkable,” he whispered in her ear. “In-sodding-credible.”
“You’ve mentioned as much. You’re warm.”
“Much as I’d like to stand and hold you until the sun sets, I want to get you inside. I don’t want you looking like old polka dots over there.”
“Who?”
“The fish you walked out with. It’ll be fine—don’t cry. I’m here.”
She released a few tears. Couldn’t be helped. She’d been dangling a good ten feet from the floor when the cable had snapped and she had jumped. She had survived the Great Water Disaster. She had…faced her fear.
“I did,” she murmured. A sob segued to a choking laugh.
“Did what, love? Is that real laughter or have you gone a little loopy?”
“It’s real,” she assured him. “I’ve faced an irrational fear and come out alive.”
“That you did. I’m proud of you.”
And that surprising affirmation made her feel even better.
Now it was time to focus. “Do they know who planted the bomb?”
“We got an anonymous phone call, traced it to inside the hotel. BND is working to decipher it right now.”
“Right. Well, I’m making a guess it was Dimitri.” She pulled far enough away to look at Dane’s face. The warm contact was replaced by a gush of cool air. Struggling against her body’s desire to snuggle and her logical need to finish the task, she felt logic win. “Is there any way we can view the hotel’s security tape?”
He nodded. “Right. Good idea.”
It took a virtual act of God to finally convince the building inspector to allow one BND agent inside the hotel to acquire the security tapes from the office. Half an hour later, in the comfort of a warm van outfitted with surveillance equipment, Becca and Dane scanned through the morning’s tapes.
There were no signs of anyone approaching the gigantic tank to plant or press any sort of substance against it. They scanned through the tapes of patrons sitting in the Atrium bar. Dane proposed an indirect method of delivery.
Becca repeatedly played back a few minutes of tape featuring a tall figure in a dark baseball cap. He approached the bar, sat down, spoke to the bartender. While he waited for a drink, he pointed his finger at the base of the aquarium. A quick call on his cell phone followed. When his drink arrived he paid, then left. Didn’t even take a sip.
She pointed the man out to Dane.
He leaned in for a closer look. “Can you notch that one up, Hans?”
The security technician assisting them tapped his keyboard. The screen shot increased fifty percent, but it made the face blurrier.
“It’s got to be Dimitri,” Becca said. “He was wearing all black when he took off with Uther.” She pushed back her heavy, wet hair. “Can I get a match on that time, Hans? See if it coincides with the phone call to the police warning of the bomb?”
Hans tapped on a few keys and the digital recording forwarded. “It matches.”
“He’s our man,” Dane said.
“What time is it?” Becca asked.
“Noon,” Hans replied. “There is coffee in the emergency vehicles.”
“Thank you, Hans. But we’ll take it to go. I suspect Uther and Dimitri are on their way to New York.”
“What for?” Dane asked.
Dane shrugged.
“I’ll tell you about it in the taxi.” Tugging the blanket about her shoulders, Becca stepped outside onto the slushy asphalt, but gave a protesting whimper when Dane pulled the blanket completely off.
“Here.” He shed the fleece-lined trencher from his shoulders and swung it about hers. “Wear this, and button it up so you don’t flash anyone.”
Becca flipped up the hem of her torn red blouse to survey her exposed skin. “You don’t like the style?”
“Personally, I love the teasing bit of belly button. But, besides the frostbite, I think you’re a more conservative dresser.”
“Frostbite bad.”
“Body heat good,” he offered as he hugged her close. “We’ll have to get you proper shoes, as well.”
“Louboutins?”
“How ’bout a sexy pair of Jimmy Choos?”
Nestling her head against Dane’s shoulder, Becca gave the latter some consideration. “Choo. Good.”
The cab to the Brandenburg Airport blasted blessed heat into the back seat. Jimmy Choos had not been available; the closest stores offered cheaper fare. The best Dane could manage was a pair of flat white boat shoes from a tourist shop outside the hotel. But they felt like Cinderella’s glass slippers when her prince put them on her feet.
Trench coat buttoned up to her neck, Becca dialed Zeek to report.
“What’s going on, Becca? You don’t sound right.”
“Bomb. Big one. Lots of water.” She sighed and shrugged a hand through her still damp and slightly crunchy hair. “I’m fine. But the target has been kidnapped.”
“Uther Magnusson?”
“Currently headed toward New York, is my guess.”
“Is that a good guess?”
“Yes. I need an agent put on Sabrina Morgan. She may be in danger. She also holds a third diamond with the same data coded inside the crown.”
“We were not aware there was a third. Excellent work, Becca. I’ll get an agent right on it, take the diamond into evidence and post operatives at JFK.”
“Great, but I’m already forming a backup plan in case he slips through customs. If we can get to Sabrina first, maybe I can lure Dimitri to me.”
“Don’t take unnecessary risks, Becca. Just secure Uther.”
“I can’t do that unless I attract Dimitri. Don’t worry, I have an idea.”
There was a pause on Zeek’s end. “You ditch MI-6 yet?”
“Haven’t tried.”
“Be careful.”
“I always am.” Becca tugged the lapels of Dane’s coat to her chin. “Talk to you soon.”
Too weary to even click off, Becca laid her head back against the seat. If luck held out, they might apprehend Dimitri and Uther at the airport. But in the event that scenario didn’t pan out, she must figure out a plan for New York.
Dimitri had been posing as a prince?
An idea emerged. Though risky to her cover, it would lure the Russian right where she could nab him.
She scanned through her list of contacts on her cell phone and found Rubi Cho’s number. It rang once, and Cho, in her usual perky voice, announced she would listen only if the caller had something juicy to say.
“Have you gone to press yet?”
“Becca Whitmore! In print, yes. But if you have a scoop, I can post something online. What is it?”
“I’ve got a big scoop for you.”