24

In less than ten minutes, Griff felt the transponder vibrating, Livingston’s signal that he was standing by for the rescue. Ryan and Ty carried Mac to the side of the boat, while Griff grabbed a mooring line and tied it under his shoulders. Then he positioned himself on the gunwale. “Hand her to me,” he said. Once he had her secure in his arms, he turned and faced the water. Ryan and Ty gently lowered the two. The winds had calmed and the surface of the water posed no problem.

Griff freed himself from the rope and swam toward ROXI, a short distance away. As soon as he reached the submersible, the side door opened, and he slid Mac into the seat. “She’s in bad shape and desperately needs blood. The bastard pumped her full of heparin, and despite getting vitamin K, she’s still bleeding badly from two leg wounds.”

Livingston reached over and placed an oxygen mask over Mac’s mouth and nose before strapping her in. “Commander Fuentes will begin treating her as soon as I get back. A medical helicopter is on its way from Miami to transport her to the Navy hospital in Virginia.” He powered up ROXI. “Don’t worry, Griff. You’ve done your thing. Now let us do ours.”

“I want to go with her,” Griff said, knowing that wasn’t possible but hoping there might somehow be a way.

“You know this jewel can only carry two passengers. Besides, we need you with your team to wait for the authorities. They’ve already been instructed on what to tell them.”

“Ty and Ryan are perfectly capable of handling that without me,” Griff argued. “Can’t you send one of your freighters to pick me up?”

Livingston shook his head. “We won’t jeopardize the joint mission. If the Cubans see one of the Canadian freighters picking up an American after the incident on the yacht, there would be a lot of questions—ones we’re not willing to answer.” He waved Griff off. “We’ll take care of her while you and the rest of your team handle the police. I promise you’ll be able to join her soon.”

As much as Griff wanted to protest further, he knew he was wasting time—a precious commodity that Mac didn’t have. Resigned to the fact that he had to let her go, he moved away. The panel locked into position, and ROXI disappeared beneath the water. Griff swam to the back of the yacht. After he fastened the rope under his shoulders, Ryan and Ty hoisted him out of the water.

Back on deck, he turned to his men. “So what’s our story?”

They both began to talk at once, before Ryan pointed to Ty. “You go first.”

Ty nodded. “We had a quick talk with the owner of the yacht while you were gone. He’s pretty shaken up. Apparently he’s awaiting a trial for drug trafficking, and—”

“Livingston mentioned that,” Griff interrupted.

“We convinced him it was in his best interest to tell the Cuban officials that the three of us approached him about buying his yacht, and he took us on a test run.”

“Ty did the perfect good cop/bad cop impersonation,” Ryan added. “Just when the poor man was about to wet himself, the good cop threw him a bone.” He turned to Ty. “Tell him how you did it.”

Ty was obviously pleased with himself. “Before the bone, I mentioned that unless he told the authorities exactly what I instructed him to say, we’d let it slip that he was planning to unload a shipment of fentanyl to dealers in Cuba and was using us as part of the plan. The idiot had no idea we can’t prove that, but he was so afraid that he would have agreed to anything.”

Obviously impatient, Ryan picked up the story. “Then Ty told him we could make all his felony drug charges disappear. The guy couldn’t agree fast enough.”

“Anyway, back to the captain and the story he was to tell the authorities,” Ty said. “He’s going to say that while he was entertaining us as potential buyers, we were hijacked by the Cubans. They apparently received a tip that the yacht was carrying drugs. When they didn’t find any, they went ballistic and decided to kill us and steal the yacht. The three of us managed to overpower them. Unfortunately, they were all killed in the shootout that followed.”

“We went back and fired several rounds in the hallway with their guns to make it look authentic,” Ty added.

Griff, deep in thought, wrinkled his brow. “What about Petrović?”

Ryan made the sign of the cross in jest. “As soon as you went overboard with Mac, we wrapped his body in a tarp, weighted him down, and threw him over the side. After the harbor mess is cleaned up, the Canadian freighter will send a diver to retrieve it. That way, after Rashid is no longer a threat, the president can stand in front of the White House and announce to the world that the U.S. military has tracked down and subsequently killed international enemies numbers one and two. Quite a notch for his belt.”

“Who thought of this?” Without waiting for an answer, Griff continued, “It’s actually quite a good explanation. If the terrorists think Petrović is still alive, they’ll waste their time and effort trying to get their money back. I can only imagine how pissed they are that Petrović betrayed them and ruined their big plan to bring America to its knees.”

Both Ty and Ryan got quiet before Ty finally spoke again. “They’re definitely pissed. J-Lo and his merry band of intel gatherers picked up chatter about that. They also heard talk of them seeking revenge on Mac for making them lose their arms shipment. And somehow, Rashid managed to connect the dots. He figured out she was responsible for his brother’s death a few years ago in Bucharest.”

“That’s why Dino wasn’t able to tell you that help was on the way,” Ryan said. “He was afraid they might be listening in on the helicopter’s frequency. Knowing your location, they could make their move on both Mac and Petrović, and Dino wanted the element of surprise.”

“That makes me feel a lot better about Dino,” Griff said. “I thought he was abandoning both me and Mac.”

“He’d never do that to Mac,” Ryan said. “You—maybe.” He fist-bumped Ty.

“Funny. So, what about the bomb?”

“We wrapped it up and put it in the tarp with the body. It would be hard to explain why it was onboard,” Ty answered.

“You guys make me so damn proud,” Griff said. “Although I still can’t figure out how you got here so quickly, I’m definitely grateful.”

“You have Dino to thank for that,” Ty said. “He ordered a military helicopter to pick us up at Miami and transport us the minute you called in the coordinates.”

“And again, he couldn’t tell you because of the possibility that the terrorists might be listening,” Ryan added. “When we got close enough to the harbor, we dropped into the water just in the nick of time to come to the rescue and save the old man in a bit of a jam.”

“Old man, huh?”

Their attention was diverted by the sound of a motorboat approaching. The three of them looked over the side of the ship.

Five Cuban policemen approached. “Prepare to be boarded,” someone called over a megaphone.

“Put on your best poker face,” Griff instructed the others. “We’ve got one helluva story to sell.”

It took two days before the Cuban authorities finished their investigation and allowed the Americans to return home. During that time, there was zero communication with headquarters.

Griff nearly went crazy worrying about Mac. The last update he’d had about her condition came from Dino the day she was airlifted from the Canadian freighter to the Naval Medical Center in Virginia. Even after receiving several units of blood, she was in guarded condition, in and out of consciousness. He’d sensed fear in Dino’s voice, despite assurances that she was holding her own.

Finally allowed to leave Cuba, Griff, Ty, and Ryan boarded a plane from Havana to Miami, barely making their connecting flight to D.C. Upon arrival, they hopped the first cab they could find, shouting the entire way for the poor driver to go faster.

The cab hadn’t rolled to a complete stop in front of the hospital before Griff jumped out. Ryan was right behind him. Ty stayed behind long enough to throw a fifty-dollar bill at the cab driver, apparently for the abuse he’d taken during the fifteen-mile drive from the airport. Within seconds, he caught up with the other two.

“We’re looking for Mackenzie Conley,” Griff said, stopping at the information desk and shifting nervously from one foot to another. He hated the smell of hospitals.

The receptionist glanced down at the computer and, after what seemed like an interminable delay, looked up at him. “Are you Agent Bradley?”

“Yes, where is she?”

The clerk lowered her eyes a second longer before again meeting his impatient gaze. “I’ve been instructed to direct you to the chapel, sir.” She pointed to the elevators on her left. “Go to the second floor. The chapel is on your right.”

Griff sprinted that way with Ty and Ryan close behind. His legs felt as if they might give way. Why were they sending him to the chapel? One look at Ty and Ryan told him they were struggling with the same question.

As soon as the elevator door opened, they raced toward the chapel. Griff shoved through the heavy wooden door as if they were made of cardboard. The room was empty except for Director Dinorelli. He sat on the front pew and didn’t bother to look back or acknowledge them.

Griff’s heart sped up, and his entire body went cold. He forced his leaden legs to move. Standing beside Dino, he tapped his boss on the shoulder. “What’s going on?”

Without looking up, the head of the SWEEPERS unit scooted over and patted the seat beside him. “Sit down, guys.”

No one moved.

“I don’t wanna sit. I want to see Mac,” Griff blurted.

Dino finally made eye contact with Griff, who immediately shifted from anxiety to outright fear. He had known Dino for a long time, and that look on his face had always been a precursor to bad news.

“She had begun to rally. Vitals looked better, even though she still hadn’t come out of the coma. The doctors were fairly optimistic, but said she wasn’t out of the woods yet. They said recovery would probably take a few more days, since she’d lost nearly two-thirds of her blood when—”

“Dammit, Dino. Where is she?” Griff interrupted.

Dino’s eyes grew sad, and he lowered his head. “I’m sorry, Griff. Apparently, she threw a blood clot this morning because of all the vitamin K they had to give her. She’s gone.”

The room began to spin as Griff’s entire body went limp. Hands grabbed him from behind and prevented him from crashing to the floor.

Dino leaned over and gently pulled him down next to him. “You did everything you could to save her, but that psychopath made sure she wouldn’t live. I’m so sorry.”

Griff stared straight ahead at the altar. Gone! Mac was gone. His beautiful, courageous, funny Mac. His heart wrenched in pain, as if crushed by some invisible hand. And knowing he’d never gotten the chance to tell her that he loved her—that he’d never stopped loving her—only made the pain worse.

Now she’d never know.

He buried his head in his hands and sobbed, his unabashed sorrow exposed for all to see. After a while, he managed to compose himself and turned to Dino. “Where is she?”

“In the morgue. They’re doing an autopsy, and then she’ll be cremated, according to her directive on file at the agency. Because there’s still a very real threat of a terrorist attack, I’ve set up a small memorial service to be held tomorrow at the chapel at Langley.”

“Why Langley?” Ryan asked, dabbing at his own wet eyes.

“We can’t take a chance of Rashid or any member of his terrorist group setting off a bomb at a civilian church. Remember, they’re still reeling from a lost opportunity to strike the United States and will be looking for any way to make headlines.”

Lost in his thoughts of Mac, Griff murmured to no one in particular, “I never got the chance to tell her…”

Dino put his arm around his shoulders. “She knew.”

Griff sat on the balcony of his apartment watching two children playing in the pool. He’d been out there since four in the morning, having tossed and turned most of the night. Sleeplessness had become the norm for him.

Since Mac’s funeral, he hadn’t bothered to shave, and he didn’t care what he looked like. What was the point? Nothing mattered anymore. As for food, there were so many takeout containers in the trash, it was overflowing. But he wasn’t up for a walk to the dumpsters. He was afraid he’d see someone and have to pretend to be normal.

He spent his days moping around, wishing Mac was still alive, but he knew nothing was going to bring her back. If he was ever to move on, to get his life back, he had to accept it. How the hell was he supposed to do that?

The future held no interest for him, not without her. And he blamed himself. He was supposed to keep her safe. What he wouldn’t give for a redo of that horrible day at Miami Children’s Hospital, when Petrović had out-schemed them and kidnapped her. Knowing how obsessed the man had been with her and how terrified she was of him, he should never have let her go to Miami in the first place. If only…

He shoved the table over with all the anger in him, sending the empty beer can clattering to the floor and causing two kids outside to stop playing and look up.

He didn’t remember much about the memorial service at Langley. Seemed a part of him had died that day, too. He should have been the one in the urn.

His new, government-issued cell phone vibrated on the table, jarring him from his memories. Glancing at caller ID, he hesitated before picking it up. After a long one-on-one with his boss over way too many drinks following the service, he’d accepted that Dino had no other choice when he misled him about rescuing Mac. Since then, the director had been calling at least once a day, usually twice, to check up on him. He was tired of saying the same old thing every time.

I’ll be fine. I just need more time.

I’m working it out. I’ll be back on the job soon.

He wasn’t sure he would ever be fine again or able to go back to work in the same office, knowing she wouldn’t be there. He sucked in a gulp of air before he answered. “Hey, Dino. I’m okay. Really.”

There was a moment of silence before the director replied, “You’re not okay, and we both know it. This downward spiral you’re in is going nowhere. You need to pull it together, man, and get on with your life. You’ll never do that until you accept reality. Mac’s dead.”

Griff groaned. “How, exactly, do you propose I do that? I’m not sleeping and barely surviving. I would be a hazard to anyone unfortunate enough to depend on me during a mission. I would—”

“Don’t you think I know that?” Dino interrupted. “I talked to Rutherford about you yesterday.”

“You discussed me with the shrink? I don’t need psychobabble, boss. I need Mac alive and laughing at the dumb things I do, like she always did.”

“I want her back, too, but that’s not going to happen.” Dino’s voice softened. “Rutherford suggested you get away for a few weeks. Clear your head. Get some closure.”

“I suppose he thinks I need antidepressants as well,” Griff said, more sarcastically than he intended. He knew Dino was only trying to be helpful.

“Who doesn’t need to feel good? But no, he’s aware you would never take them. Like I said, he does think a getaway would do you a world of good, though.” He paused and waited for a reaction. When there was none, he continued, “Do you remember that little place where Lydia and I go wherever we need to escape the nine-to-five crazies?”

“The one by the ocean?”

“That’s the one. I want you to go there and spend some time connecting with nature. Unleash your inhibitions. Cavort nude on the private beach, if that suits you. Smell the salt water. If, at the end of two weeks, you still aren’t ready to come back to work, we’ll figure out what to do next.” His voice cracked. “I won’t lose both you and Mac without a fight. I’m begging you to do this for my sake.”

Griff’s first instinct was to say no—to remind Dino that no amount of swimming naked in the sea would make him feel whole again—but he knew his boss was right. “Send me the information, and I’ll call for a reservation.”

“Already done,” Dino said. “There’s a rental car parked in your space at headquarters, so you don’t even have to put the miles on your new truck. Key’s under the rug.”

Griff brushed the stubble on his chin. “Guess that means I’ll have to shave.”

“A cleanup would be good,” Dino said.

“I’ll do it only because it’s you asking,” Griff said, “but be forewarned, my phone stays here. If I’m going to spend time with nature, like you said, I don’t want the damn thing ringing every hour with you guys checking to see if I’m okay.”

“Fair enough. All I ask is that I’m the first call you make when you return.”

“Fine.” Griff disconnected then glanced around the apartment. He really should spend some time cleaning up before he left so he wouldn’t come home to uninvited roaches—or worse.

“Screw it,” he said.

Twenty minutes later, he had showered and shaved. Although somewhat leaner, he surprisingly looked human again. Maybe two weeks isolated on a deserted beach would be the perfect way to make his peace with Mac’s death. If nothing else, maybe the sound of the waves splashing against the shore would lull him into a good night’s rest.

On the way out the door, he took one more look around his apartment, then went back inside and called the cleaning service he used occasionally. Cockroaches, he could deal with, but rats? Not so much.

He drove to SWEEPERS headquarters in Granger. A tricked-out cherry-red Jeep Wrangler sat parked in his spot. Seeing it, he couldn’t help but grin. Dino was really trying hard. Griff found the key exactly where it was supposed to be, climbed in, and cranked back the hardtop before heading south. Dino had even programed the GPS for his trip.

The eight-hour drive was uneventful, and he only stopped twice to heed nature’s call and grab a burger. Once he turned off the interstate, he relied solely on the GPS as he drove the final forty miles on an isolated road that ran parallel to the ocean. Even in the dark, he could see how beautiful the view was with the full moon dancing on the shimmering water.

It was almost ten when he pulled up to the small cabin that sat about a hundred yards from a white, sandy beach bordering the water. After parking the car, he grabbed his suitcase and headed for the front door, anxious to see if the inside was as quaint and charming as the outside. Dino had said the key would be in the large flowerpot on the porch, but he couldn’t find it.

Great, he thought. He didn’t even have a phone to call anyone.

He walked around to the back of the house, hoping to find a door open or a small window he could break. Glancing toward the water, he saw the view was amazing.

And then he saw her—a woman walking barefoot in the sand, coming his way. Although he couldn’t see her face, there was something familiar about the way she walked.

A sudden jolt of electricity surged through his body as he stared. How can it be? Every nerve tingled. His breath caught in his throat. What he was seeing was not possible.

“Hello, Griff.”

He closed his eyes and shook his head. I must be losing my mind. Maybe I should have gotten a prescription from the company shrink. When he opened them again, she was almost to the porch.

“Mac?” he said softly, afraid she might vanish at the sound of his voice.

She threw her hands in the air. “Who else would it be, Bradley?”

“But…but…” He dropped his suitcase and ran to her, crushing her against his body and holding on as if the light breeze might blow her away.

“Careful, hotshot. I’m still not one hundred percent.”

He held her out so he could touch her cheek, still not convinced he wasn’t hallucinating. But it wasn’t an illusion. This was Mac, the woman he loved. Mac, somehow back from the dead, in his arms and smiling up at him. “How? Why? Oh, I don’t give a damn. You’re alive. That’s all that matters. I’ve been waiting a long time to do this.” He bent down and kissed her, unable to get enough of her. It left him dizzy and excited.

When he finally released her, she was smiling. “I’ve been waiting a long time for that very same thing. I guess it took my dying to knock some sense into us.”

He stared into her eyes, still not convinced he wasn’t imagining her. “Is it really you?”

“In the flesh.”

“I still wish Dinorelli hadn’t let me believe you were dead.”

“He did it for my safety.” She grabbed his hand. “Let’s go inside. We’ll have a stiff drink, and I’ll tell you everything.”

“I could definitely use one.”

Inside, she poured the liquor and handed him a glass. Sitting on the couch, she waited for him to settle in beside her.

He downed the burning liquid in one gulp. “Now I’m ready.”

She took a sip. “Intel picked up several conversations from the terrorist cell after I was airlifted to Miami. Seems Jamil Rashid was obsessed with getting revenge for his brother’s death. J-Lo overheard them planning to take me out at the hospital.”

“So Dinorelli faked your death and whisked you away to a safe house.” Griff got up and refilled his glass, then brought the bottle over to refill hers.

“Yes. According to Dino, they’re closing in on Rashid and his group. They even pinpointed his exact location once, but by the time they could confirm it and get the drones in position, he was gone.”

“That still doesn’t explain why I was kept in the dark. Does Dino have so little faith in me that he couldn’t trust me?” He stopped and took another drink. “These last two weeks have been hell. Between grieving for you and blaming myself for not being able to save you—”

“I’m sorry.” She laid her head on his shoulder. “Dino told me everything you were going through. I was hurting for you, too. But he knew the terrorists would be listening to any chatter, watching your every move. That’s why he booked this cottage in his name, rented the Jeep himself. He even had a spook follow you for the first thirty minutes to make sure that even after all that, someone had not picked up your scent. You are the tops in your profession, but Dino wasn’t about to trust your acting skills when it came to my life.”

He ran his fingers through her hair. “Guess I can’t blame him.” He leaned over and kissed the top of her head, catching a whiff of the apricot shampoo she always used. “How long will you have to stay here?”

“Until Rashid is dead. That could be tomorrow, or it could be a week, maybe even a month from now.” She cocked her head and gave him a mischievous look. “You gotta admit, this isn’t a bad gig, as far as safe houses go.”

He couldn’t wait any longer and pulled her into his arms. “My biggest regret in all this was not telling you how I really felt. And then I thought I had lost that chance forever. The truth is I’ve loved you from the first day you walked into the office and gave me attitude. No matter what happens, you need to know that.”

She lowered her eyes. “I thought you would never be able to see me as anything but damaged goods after what Petrović did to me.” She raised her eyes to meet his, her eyes shiny with tears. “He used terror to control me, and God help me, I let him win.”

Her eyes drifted to the door when there was a slight scratching noise. Griff scrambled off the couch, dove for his bag, and pulled out his weapon, certain the terrorists had somehow managed to follow him here. “Don’t open the door,” he screamed.

She turned and winked. “Put the gun away or you’ll scare Roxy.”

“Roxy?”

As soon as the door was opened, a golden retriever puppy bounded in, rushed over to him, and immediately began covering his face with sloppy kisses.

“Bet you thought I didn’t remember your lame-ass comment back on the boat. Since you’re the one who brought it up, I decided you needed another female around to teach you how to smooth-talk a lady.”

“Point taken. Now will you get this mutt off me so I can do to you what she’s doing to me?”