Chapter Eleven

9:01 a.m.

Carmen finished washing her bowl and spoon in the sink, then dried and put them back in the cabinet so someone else could use them.

She nodded at DS and John and returned to her office. She had a dozen messages waiting for her. Some were lab results, some were requests for supplies and people, and one was a complaint thinly clothed in a suggestion from her new Homeland liaison that she take the time to sit down with him to discuss how to improve communication between her people and his.

Agent Rawley had all too quickly become a large pain in her ass, one she’d like to surgically remove.

She sent him a briefly worded message in return, asking if he could meet her at her office in a couple of hours to have his discussion.

He agreed. Good. Maybe now she could get some work done and begin responding to email messages.

She’d answered a half dozen when John set a cup of coffee in front of her.

“I hear you’re meeting with Rawley soon. He told me to keep my nose out of his business with you.”

Carmen sighed. She didn’t have time for juvenile stupidity, but perhaps she was going to have to make time to explain to Agent Rawley just what his job as her liaison was. “I suppose you’re going to insist on staying in the room, right?”

“Insist? No. But the guy is wound a little too tight. I’d like to find out why.”

She turned away from her computer to give John her undivided attention. He sounded sincere, his body language was relaxed, and his expression neutral, but his eyes told a different story. Cold, hard, and sharp enough to cut through to bone before you felt a thing.

“Maybe he’s worried he’ll miss something. Besides, I can take care of myself,” she said. “I’ve got a flyswatter in my desk.”

John’s eyebrows rose. “That’s supposed to make me feel better?”

Her phone rang.

The emergency ringtone.

“I’m sorry,” she said to him. “I need to take this.” The voice on the other end stuttered before becoming clear enough for her to make out words. “…CDC?”

“Yes, I’m with the CDC.” Sirens and screaming filled the background. She put the phone on speaker and set it on the desk so she could grab a pen and paper to take notes. “What’s happened?”

John shifted his weight, as if anticipating the command to run. Or attack.

The voice was muffled, then it became clear, and what she heard made her stomach clench. His voice was high and fast, and vibrated with tension. “…an ex-explosion. Wit- witnesses report a man walked into the ER and detonated some kind of explosive vest he was wearing.”

“A bomb?” A fresh bolus of adrenaline shot through her system, turning fatigue into battle readiness. Good God. “How many injured? Fatalities?”

John swore and ran out of the room.

Carmen blocked everything out but the shaking, shrill voice coming out of her cell phone. “I don’t know, ma’am. The hospital people told me to call you with this information.”

“Who is this?”

“Parker, hospital security. I have to go now, ma’am.”

“Wait! Which hospital?”

He’d already ended the call.

“Damn it,” she growled. She had teams at two different hospitals in Florida. She stabbed the screen of her phone, inputting the number for Dr. Stevenson, who was at Orlando General.

No answer.

She tried his partner, lab tech, and nurse, Jean Applewood.

“Hello?” Jean’s voice was weak and wobbly.

If she could have reached out to hold the other woman through her cell phone, she would have. “Jean, it’s Dr. Rodrigues. Are you okay?”

“Not really. I mean, I’m up and walking around, and a lot of other people aren’t, but I think I’m going to need some stitches. I got pretty cut up, and there’s a lot of blood…” Her voice trailed off, like she’d forgotten the question she was answering.

Several sets of feet pounded in the hallway. A moment later, the space in front of her desk was full of men. John, DS, Gunner, and Henry, all of them breathing fast but silent, listening to her conversation with Jean.

“Is Dr. Stevenson okay?” Carmen asked.

“No,” Jean said, her voice cracking. “He’s dead. A lot of people are dead.” She sniffed. “The extra people you sent us had just arrived, and we were briefing them. We were standing at the back of the ER, where there was enough space for everyone to gather around. The bomb destroyed that whole area.” A sob broke her voice, and she had to struggle to regain it. “We’re going to need a lot of help here.”

“Did you see the bomber?” John asked, slower than he usually talked.

“Um…just for a second.”

“What did he look like? Was the explosive attached to his body or in a bag or backpack?”

“He wasn’t very old, maybe early twenties, and I couldn’t see any bomb or anything like that. He had a jacket on. It looked wrong…bulky. Maybe it was…underrrneath.” The pace of her speech slowed, and her last few words came off her tongue like she’d just had a root canal. Thick and stretched out like someone had put her in slow motion.

A crash and several thumps came through the connection.

“Jean?” Carmen said loudly into the phone. “Jean?”

No answer.

No one in her office said anything or moved, just waited.

She met the eyes of every man in her office. Her gaze rested a second longer on John. He gave her a small nod. That tiny movement provided an additional rush of energy, support, and encouragement.

She spoke to DS first. “I’m going to need more people down there. Bring me a list of everyone who’s not already out on assignment or off sick and can otherwise drop what they’re doing to help get this disaster under control.”

“Yes, ma’am,” he said, turning and running out.

She looked at Dr. Gunner. “Are you and Joy recovered enough to assist?”

“Abso—” he began.

“No, we’re not.” Joy pushed her way into the office and sent a glare at Gunner. “Not if there’s a chance of more violence. Especially not if you’re planning to go down there yourself. Are you?”

“That’s not entirely my decision to make.”

Joy crossed her arms over her chest as if she had no doubt about the outcome of the decision. “You’ll need someone here at headquarters to keep things running smoothly.” Joy pointed at Gunner and herself. “We can do that.”

Carmen said, “Give me a minute to speak with the director.”

They nodded and took a step or two back.

Her call to her boss was answered on the first ring.

“Carmen, good,” he said, his tone brisk. “Have you heard about the explosion at Orlando General Hospital?”

“Yes, sir. I just spoke with a member of my team who was there. Her partner was killed in the blast. Our additional people had just arrived, but I don’t know their condition.” The words sliced and stabbed at her throat on their way out. “I’m assuming the worst.”

“I agree. We need to treat this as a hostile environment. I have Florida’s Surgeon General on another line. She’s asking for the highest level of assistance possible from us.”

Warm energy surged through her at his words. “I’m very happy to hear that, sir.”

“With a possible measles outbreak in two separate sites—”

“Three,” Carmen interrupted. “A hospital in Titusville just reported two suspected cases.”

He acknowledged that new information with a grunt. “And now a bombing at one hospital,” he continued. “Coordinating our response is going to take extra effort. I’d like you to head it up personally. We can’t afford any mistakes. Clear communication is going to be key in keeping this health threat from getting past us.”

“I agree wholeheartedly.”

“Good. Do you have someone who can help coordinate some of the work here at the office? This is a situation where we need all hands on deck.”

“Yes, sir. Dr. Gunner Anderson and his partner Joy Ashiro have volunteered to remain here.”

“Excellent. Keep me apprised of events as they happen and call if you need anything you can’t authorize on your own. This is your show.”

“Thank you, sir.” Carmen hung up the phone and studied her people. “We’re to treat this as a high-level threat. I’ll be flying out with our A-package medical support unit.” She focused on Gunner and Joy. “Whatever you’re working on, put it on hold and come back here so I can go over things with you.”

Gunner looked like he’d just tasted something extremely sour.

“Gunner,” Carmen said, stressing his name.

His gaze snapped to her face.

“I need someone competent, confident, and who can’t be bullied by anyone else to cover for me here.”

“Don’t blow hot air up my skirt,” he said, crossing his arms over his chest. “I’m not that kind of girl.”

Carmen narrowed her eyes at Gunner. “I don’t give false praise. I need you here. With Joy backing you up, I won’t have to worry about messages getting lost or crossed, supplies and equipment will be managed properly, and there isn’t an intimidation tactic in the world that can ruffle your feathers.”

He didn’t look mollified in the slightest. “Still feels a little warm on this side of the desk.”

Prickly. She shrugged. “Put on some sunscreen and get back to work.”

A smile broke his cool facade. “Another good one.” He glanced from her to John and back, his expression speculative. “You two sure are on the same frequency.”

“Yeah, well,” John said with a shrug. “I’ve always wanted to be a bad influence.”

He certainly wasn’t going to like her next order. “John, I want you to stay here and help Gunner and Joy.”

As she suspected, his sense of humor went completely and immediately AWOL. “I’m coming with you.” His tone was final.

Too bad he wasn’t the one in charge. “John, Rawley is my liaison. Your injuries preclude you from undertaking this investigation.” Because there would be one. A big, messy, sphincter-tightening search for those responsible.

He took a step closer and leaned toward her. “Rawley can have the investigation. I’ll be busy protecting you.”

She shook her head. “You’re not medically cleared for any kind of work—”

“I don’t give a shit if I’m cleared or not,” he interrupted. “You’re not going to an active outbreak site that’s also been targeted by terrorists without someone looking after your security. I may not be fit enough to investigate, but I don’t need to be one hundred percent healthy to watch your back.”

She wasn’t going to let him throw his life away. “John—”

“Let him look after your security,” DS said as he walked into the room. “He’s right. Those two goons who tried to pick you up at the airport weren’t looking for your favorite cookie recipe. The second you show your face in Florida, you’ll be an even bigger target than you already are.”

Carmen snapped her mouth shut. She didn’t want John in danger, but she also knew he’d fight her on this. He’d made up his mind, and nothing short of locking him up would stop him. The stubborn idiot.

“Dress him up like he’s one of your lab people, and he’ll fly under everyone’s radar,” DS continued. “I have a dozen people prepping to head to Orlando, and Rawley’s on his way here.”

Rawley was going to squawk. “We also need to establish better security at the affected hospitals,” she said. “I don’t want another bomb taking out any more people.”

“That’s Rawley’s job,” DS said.

“My thoughts exactly.”

Her cell phone rang with the CDC director’s ring tone. Carmen answered it, hitting the speaker-phone icon before the first ring finished.

“Rodrigues.”

“You’re good to go,” the CDC Director said. “The Florida Surgeon General has also mobilized a National Guard medical unit to join us. They’ll be providing medical and security assistance.”

“We’ll need them.” The weight of what had happened, the loss of life, and the sheer terror the people in that hospital had to be under froze her vocal chords. She stopped to catch her breath. “We’ve lost some people, sir.” She gazed into John’s eyes and saw a determination there that could withstand an ice age. “It’s been suggested I take a bodyguard.”

“Who did the suggesting?”

“John Dozer.”

“Who did he suggest?”

“John Dozer.”

The director sighed. “Is he in any shape for it?”

“He thinks he is.”

A snort. “I admire the man’s courage and dedication, but I’ve got to wonder just how many times his mother dropped him on his head when he was a baby.”

John rolled his eyes.

“I’ve wondered the same thing, sir.”

“Well”—another sigh, one heavy with suffering—“it’s up to you, as long as you have someone keeping you from dying of anything other than old age.”

“Thank you, sir.”

“Keep me in the loop, Carmen. This has the potential to explode in our faces.”

“I will, sir.”

“Good luck,” he said, then ended the call.

John told her very seriously, “My mother was always careful when carrying me around. She never once dropped me on my head.” He looked thoughtful for a moment. “She paddled my ass a few times for doing stupid shit, but…” He shrugged.

If he thought that was going to convince her to take him with her, he really had hit his head too hard. “Maybe it’s all the times you knocked your head on the ground, then, because walking into the chaos down there with cracked ribs and a concussion isn’t a good idea.”

“You need someone dedicated to your security,” he growled.

“I’m not disputing that. I just don’t think it should be you.”

He narrowed his eyes at her. “Who, then?”

“DS is pretty good at that stuff.”

“Stuff?” John asked, his voice rising. “Stuff? This is your life we’re discussing. Your health and…and happiness.”

“No,” she said baldly. “This isn’t about just one person. Your health is just as important as anyone else’s.” I won’t allow you to sacrifice yourself for me. She wanted to say it, but those words would tell him more than she wanted about how she felt about him. Enough for him to use her feelings against her.

Carmen deliberately turned her back, sat down in her chair, and regarded her computer. In order to have all her people ready to fly down, she had a mountain of emails to send.

Her office door closed with a soft snick.

The angrier John was, the quieter he got. She winced—she hadn’t heard him leave, just the door closing. He must be furious. Well, he could just suck it up. She was going to make sure he got healthy. Whether he liked it or not.

Her chair was jerked around, surprising her into a gasp. “What?”

John stood over her, his hands braced on the arms of her chair. His teeth were bared, and his eyes practically glowed with anger and need.

His hands closed around her upper arms, and he pulled her to her feet.

“John—” She had no idea what she was going to say, but it didn’t matter, because he leaned down and took her mouth in a furious kiss.

He tasted so good, a rich coffee and dark chocolate mixed with a flavor all his own. She was addicted to him, and one hit was all it took to make her lose her mind.

Damn him. Damn him.

His kiss lit her on fire, and the heat of it melted the icy rage and fear she’d been carrying around in the pit of her stomach since Jean’s phone call. She’d been so cold for much longer than that, and now all she wanted was to handcuff the man to her so she never had to wonder where he was, so she could warm herself with his hot kisses.

If she let him come with her, he’d be in danger.

But was he in any less danger if he stayed?

Was anywhere safe?

She buried her hands in his hair. Although he had both of his arms wrapped around her, she was the one directing their kiss.

Damn it.

“You are a menace to my thinking,” she told him with heat.

“Since you do the same to me,” he growled, “I’m thinking we’re even.” He leaned down until he was nose to nose with her. “I’m coming with you.”

She pinched her lips together. “You don’t get to tell me what I can or can’t do, Agent Dozer.” If he couldn’t deal with the fact she didn’t have to follow his orders, no part of a relationship between them could work.

He stared at her, his breath washing over her face, like a man possessed. Then he blinked, and his expression changed. His hands gentled, and he slowly drew them across her back, massaging her muscles as they passed, until he was barely touching her at all. His gaze turned somber, and his mouth softened.

“I’m fucking this up, aren’t I?”

She’d have answered him, but she wasn’t entirely sure what he meant by this.

He gave her a sad smile and said the last word she ever expected to hear from him: “Please.”