I Spy a Naughty Game

palm.

“Tio?” Dietz barked at the younger man.

“On the roof. He slipped onto the compound with the fake ID I made for him and commandeered the helicopter, just like you ordered.”

“Excellent. Let’s go.”

Ross would shit brass monkeys when he got wind of this, in mere moments. Even though Ross had to know there was a mole in SHADO, he would never expect a direct assault from the inside. The idea made him smile.

At this hour there were few operatives in the building; it was the lull before the morning bustle, which was precisely why he’d chosen this time. Casualties were unavoidable, such as the two guards on his cell block that Hanson had dispatched, but would be kept to a minimum. He wasn’t, after all, a vicious man — simply a practical one. Waste not was his belief.

He and Hanson made their way cautiously down the corridor, passing the other cells, all vacant. He supposed that as their sole guest he should feel special.

The first guard lay prone at the end of the corridor. Dietz stepped over his bulk, noting a curious lack of blood. He directed a sharp look at Hanson as they continued on. “Did you kill him?”

“I incapacitated him. He’s out for a while.”

Killing a man who posed an imminent threat was not wasteful. It was one thing to act in an expedient manner, quite another to act in cowardice wearing the guise of mercy. Dietz wondered which described Hanson’s reluctance to permanently remove the guard as a threat. That was the chance one took when trying to mold someone so young and inexperienced. He’d have to address the issue with the man later.

They stepped over a second guard, also unconscious, he presumed. At the elevator, Hanson swiped his electronic card to gain access, and they rode up in tense silence. The true test was yet to come — he’d leave either in the helicopter or in a body bag. But one way or the other, he was leaving.

As a security measure, the elevator from the basement jail ascended only to the first floor. From there, they’d negotiate a couple of corridors to reach the elevator that would take them to the helipad on the roof. Perhaps luck would remain on their side and they would get away cleanly.

As if the thought had conjured them, a handful of agents jogged around the corner at the end of the hallway, weapons drawn. Spitting a curse, Dietz raised his arm and fired several shots at the group, scattering them. The agents took cover in open doorways and returned fire, bullets slamming into the wall as he dove to one side.

The bastards, firmly entrenched and blocking the route to the elevator, had him and Hanson pinned. Unless he did something fast, this was going to end badly.

He ducked through the open doorway next to him and looked into a woman’s shocked face dominated by huge blue eyes, and grinned.

“Hello, dear,” he said, leveling the gun at her heaving chest. “Let’s go for a stroll, shall we?”

Emma stared into Dietz’s smug face, unable to comprehend for a second, but catching on fast. The sound of guns that had drawn her from the office, not to mention the one in his hand, told most of the story. “How the hell did you escape?”

He advanced quickly, moving to stand behind her and shoving the muzzle into her right temple. “We’ll have plenty of time to chat on our helicopter ride. Let’s go.”

She held fast even as a chill swept through to her bones. “If you kill me, you won’t make it out alive, and I’m not planning to cooperate. I’m not going anywhere with you.”

“Yes, you are. Otherwise, I’ll be forced to negotiate a hostage to take your place. Are you the sort of woman who would send a man in your stead? Can you live with the death of a fellow agent on your conscience?”

“Robert Dietz, throw out your weapon and come out with your hands up!” an agent shouted from the hallway.

The disgraced leader whispered in her ear. “Well?”

Loathing for this worm filled her, and a sinking sense of helplessness. She would never allow one of her comrades to be hurt if she could prevent it, and he knew it. “I guess I’m going for a ride,” she hissed.

“Good girl.”

The praise, a twisted version of the same words Blaze had spoken, sickened her. Coming from his lips, it sounded perverse.

“Hold your fire!” he yelled, then urged her forward. “Move.”

She did as she was told, heart pounding wildly in her chest. He guided them into the corridor using her as a shield, and she was greeted by the horrible sight of a young agent lying on his back. Avery Hanson. His body was riddle with bullets, blood spreading across the tile, eyes staring heavenward. From his position, opposite the agents’, it appeared he’d been with Dietz. She’d never have believed this man would be a traitor.

And now he was dead because of his choices.

“Lower your weapons and give us a clear path to the roof, or I’ll splatter her brains all over the place,” Dietz said to the closest agent. “Make sure everyone knows.”

The agent complied, carefully reaching for his cell phone. Tears stung Emma’s eyes as she continued forward, hardly aware of anything except how surreal this felt. Two minutes ago, she’d been safely ensconced in her office, nervous about the upcoming mission. And yes, excited. She had to admit that now, since she might not get the chance later.

Would Dietz kill her as soon as they lifted off? Or would he keep her around for a while? She didn’t want to die, but some things were worse than quick death. Anyone who betrayed his country by selling out to terrorists could do terrible things to a lone woman under his control.

Blaze.

More than anything, she wished for his protective embrace and scent wrapped around her. His cocky attitude and quirky personality. She’d wasted seven months when they could’ve been together, and now…

Dietz shoved her into the waiting elevator, and the doors slid closed, creating an ominous silence. Much like a tomb.

As the car ascended she steeled herself for whatever was to come.

* * *

“Congrats on the promotion, man.”

Bastian Chevalier, crouched over a stack of boxes in his new office, straightened and turned toward Blaze, green eyes twinkling in amusement. “I’m not sure ‘congratulations’ is the right word, but thanks. Come in.”

Skirting a pile of debris, he nodded. “Overwhelmed already?”

“You could say that. I’ve already had five calls from the White House and one from a pissed-off four-star general, all regarding the stolen weapon.”

“Ouch. Sucks to be you.”

“Today, yes. Tomorrow? I hold out some hope.” The other man pushed a hand through his blond hair with a sigh.

“Anything I can do to help?” Blaze didn’t know Bastian very well, but he’d always liked the guy and wondered why the hell Dietz had gotten the CEO’s job over him in the first place.

“I wish. Unfortunately, my system only makes sense to me — and maybe Michael, since he knows me better than anyone.”

Is that so? Interesting, especially since he’d never seen them exchange more than the few cordial words necessary to run day-today operations. “How long have you two known each other?”

“Years. Before he and Maggie…” His gaze shifted to the floor, but not before Blaze caught a flash of profound sadness in his eyes, quickly covered. The other man pushed at his rolled-up sleeves and dug into another box. “Anyway, a long time. How about you? You’ve been at SHADO for three or four years, right?”

“Just two.”

“Former military?”

“FBI.”