CHAPTER Sixteen

 

 

What struck Nate first was the surreal impression of being underwater. There were no overhead lights. The lavish office was aglow from the luminous wall-length aquarium hosting a bevy of exotic deep-sea creatures. These creatures wound through undersea fauna and vivid coral with a predatory finesse−like their owner.

In that undulating light, Nate located the loathsome profile of George Barcuda behind his mahogany desk. A click sounded as he leaned forward, his fingers steepled before thin lips. Icy eyes studied his approach.

“You might think that you have the upper hand here,” he growled softly.

I do?

“But my men are on the way, and this will all be over shortly. I’ve had about enough of these damn engineers, and you and your sanctimonious idealism. I thought you would grovel. I thought you would be grateful for a job like this. I thought you would respect me and extend your loyalty towards me.”

“You didn’t hire me, George. You keep forgetting that.”

“Yes,” George spread his fingers, “well, I should have found some way to get rid of you long ago. It’s been difficult carrying on some of my deals with the right arm of the law sitting one floor above me.”

“That’s a goddamn shame, George.”

The man was unarmed. In fact he seemed unusually rigid. Awkwardly so. As if only his hands and eyes could move.

“Miss me?” Emily quipped from the dark as she stepped up behind George, a gun aimed steadily at the back of his thinning hair.

Nate felt a tremor charge through him.

“What the hell?”

“What the hell, indeed?” George chorused. “You might want to talk some sense into your girlfriend before she gets hurt. And she will get hurt as soon as the guards arrive.”

Nate ignored the warning. His eyes locked on Emily’s. There were puffs of swelling beneath them, a common reaction to the inhalant that had been forced on her.

“Are you alright?” he whispered.

“Yes.” She wrapped her fingers tighter around the grip of the handgun, and stood with her feet parted for stability. Her arms remained rigid, their aim, steadfast.

“Em, I saw you pass out. How−what happened here?”

***

Nate’s husky tone was like an aphrodisiac to her. Struggling against lingering effects of the drug, Emily blinked hard and focused on the piece of vermin sitting directly before her.

How indeed?

They say adrenaline is one of the most mysterious forces to be reckoned with, but fear runs a close second. She had loved ones that were in jeopardy. Her brother, whom she had loved for a lifetime−and Nate, the man whose feelings caught her off guard.

He had just called her, “honey.”

“When that cloth went over my mouth, I felt the effects within seconds. But even though I was fading, my eyes still worked. They worked…and I saw you.”

Emily had to look away from Nate’s charged gaze. It would undo her. She would crumble at the emotion seen there. Adrenaline would fade, and tears would destroy her advantage. Instead, she spoke with her eyes averted.

“I saw you,” she continued softly. “And I fought it. I fought breathing. I made it look like I passed out just so he would take that damn cloth away. I did end up losing consciousness a few seconds later, but the dose I took must have been minimal. I only inhaled when I screamed.”

Nate made a motion to round the desk, but she jerked her head, keeping her hands steady. Any amendment to this scene could afford George a chance to escape. Only with this gun could she force him into compliance. Granted, she doubted she could ever pull the trigger, especially now that she knew Nate and Colin were safe. But she had to gamble that George wouldn’t realize that.

Nate obeyed her silent signal, but she could see his hands fist with concern. Behind him, Colin met her gaze as he backed up towards the double doors, standing beside them to surprise any unwanted guests.

No, Colin. You are unarmed. Stay out of the way.

She knew damn well that he understood the message in her eyes. His grin confirmed it.

“When I woke up,” she continued quietly, “I could have sworn they dropped me in the Sound. It was dark, and the walls were rolling, and I saw fish—”

She had felt like Pinocchio inside the mouth of the whale. “It finally registered that I was in Barcuda’s office. I knew he was here. I heard him breathing before I even saw him. I guess it was dark enough that he didn’t notice I had opened my eyes. I was on the couch, and I tried so hard to stay still, but I just couldn’t stop shivering. It’s so cold in this office. Maybe he wants to believe he’s in the bottom of the ocean.” She smirked. “I’m ready to give him his wish.”

Nate’s fists constricted, but she shook her head and continued.

“It was only him,” she narrated. “Only Barcuda in the room.”

Her hands began to tremble.

Dammit, hold it together.

Colin moved, distracting her. He had yanked the belt from his jeans and was looping it through the handles of the double doors. Outside, security clearance would meet up with this leather barrier thanks to her resourceful brother. It wasn’t much, but for a few minutes she truly felt that the ratio was three against one. Even still, she did not trust George.

“Even though my eyes were closed,” she continued to rehash the events, “I could feel him standing directly above me, and then I heard that damn nasal whistle of his−”

Emily tried to stave off the recollection, but the clammy scent of Barcuda’s hair gel, along with the nauseating side-effects of the drug nearly made her gag.

“Emily.”

She broke from her reverie at the sound of Nate’s voice.

“If he touched you—”

She shook her head, but it was more of a twitch. “I don’t think Barcuda really believed that I was conscious, but he talked to me as if I were. He told me you were both going to die.” Her voice caught. “That you would run out of oxygen soon, and that I could join him later to collect the bod—”

On that last word, she choked.

Nate moved so fast she had no time to react. He was around the desk, his large hand seizing the gun, while an arm slipped around her waist, drawing her behind him.

“George says a lot of things.” Nate stepped up, embedding the muzzle of the gun between the man’s boney shoulder blades. “People are beginning to realize that it’s all talk, right George? In fact, he is probably grateful to have the authorities come claim him. If he was to be released on the street right now−well, there are people out there that aren’t too happy that he didn’t make good on his delivery. Or that his interpretation of the design was flawed.”

Nate glanced over his shoulder. Amber eyes basked over her, defeating the control she had tried so hard to maintain. A smile tugged at the corners of those eyes despite his lips remaining firmly set.

“Now, while you’re back there, can you remove my belt and use it to tie up the Barracuda here? And while you’re fishing around in my pants, can you grab my cell phone and press speed dial 1. This place will be flanked with law officials in mere minutes.”

After Emily expedited those tasks with tremulous hands, making sure to give an extra vicious tug of the belt around George’s wrists, she glanced up expectantly at the office doors.

“It won’t be long. That speed dial put you through to some important local officials. They know that if a call comes in on that line to bust a move.”

“So now that George is a willing audience here,” Nate continued with his gun trained on back of the grey suit collar, can you explain how you single-handedly corralled this man’s gun and subdued him?”

Across the room, Colin crossed his arms. “Yeah, I have to admit, I’m rather eager to hear that one too.”

Emily exchanged glances with both men and finally managed to regulate her breathing.

“It wasn’t anything glamorous,” she started. “I was sitting on the couch, seemingly out of it in his opinion. And then, when he got too close I—I—just exploded. I didn’t think. I just attacked him. Arms. Nails. Legs. I resorted to childhood defense tactics.”

In retrospect it must have been a comical tableau to any outside viewers. Another video of her to add to NMD’s security montage. “All I knew was that I wanted him to suffer. I—I dove at him and knocked him back against his desk, and he kind of flopped backwards into his chair. To say that the element of surprise was on my side would be an understatement. When he was in the chair, I just grabbed for the gun.”

***

Nate felt a chill that had nothing to do with the temperature of this office. With his free hand, he reached for her arm, sliding his hand up and down that sleek limb.

“You could have been killed.” His voice was clogged with emotion.

“It didn’t matter at that point.”

“Barcuda’s men could have shown up…and then what?”

“They didn’t.”

“Barcuda himself could have overpowered you.”

In his chair, George growled out an unintelligible curse.

“She was a goddamn psycho, that’s what she was,” he spat.

Behind the chair, his fingers twitched in their leather binding. He tried to angle his head enough to glare at Nate, but ended up staring forward at a bulbous dogface puffer fish swimming idly in the tank.

“Yeah, you’re a big man, Morrison. You have to let your sexy psychotic engineer do the dirty work and you come swooping in for the glory afterwards."

"The glory would have in been watching her do it," Nate responded.

Barcuda budged against his confines. “These are not necessary. I am sure that once I speak with the officials they will realize that this was all a misunderstanding, so please give me the dignity of removing this damn belt,” he hissed in contempt.

"Dignity is not a word that's coming to mind right now." Nate snorted.

"Ben suggests a good horseshoe to the rear."

Barcuda's eyes flicked over to Colin. "Who the hell is Ben?" he spat.

Colin grinned. "You didn't know that he was co-designer of the Hyperion? And here he eluded you all this time."

Barcuda's eyes rolled again until he met Emily’s reflection in the glass tank. His gaze narrowed. "You..."

Nate stepped in closer, eclipsing the man's view. "You aren't even permitted to look at her, so just sit your ass still and be damn grateful I don’t give you a third nostril."

Shuffling as best he could with his arms encumbered, Barcuda slammed his shoulder against the desk.

"You better hope your authorities arrive before my men. Which I really doubt is likely."

"You realize that with Phil’s testimony, Emily’s testimony, and the benefit of some connections I have in the Navy, you are going to be doing some considerable time for treason.”

Barcuda snorted. “An empty threat if you’re all dead.”

“I’m sure your men won’t stick around when they find out who you were working for.”

A strangled sound and then George barked, “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“I investigate, George. That’s what I do. And I happened to discover that you have already collected some pretty large sums of money from a particular foreign faction for a contract on the Hyperion. I researched that faction. Prison might be the safest bet for you right now. That is, if they don’t find a way to infiltrate your cell and make you pay for the loss on their investment.”

For the first time, Barcuda blanched. He looked nauseas.

“So if I were you,” Nate continued. “I’d sit tight and let the authorities come escort all of us out of the building. It’s your best option.”

“The better option would have been to put him in the Hyperion and let him drill himself a grave with it,” Colin muttered as he ruffled his hair.