Deadlock

'Why are you surprised? It's the best solution to the problem. No loose tongues, no witnesses.' He turned away. 'But get them up here fast. I need to get on the road after that bitch.'

EMILY HAD DRIFTED OFF TO SLEEP.

It was a restless, uneasy slumber, Garrett thought, but he'd take what he could get.

He carefully moved away from Emily and got to his knees. He tucked the blanket closer around her, then rose and started to dress. They should be landing soon, and he needed to talk to Ferguson.

Emily muttered something, and her hand was reaching out from beneath the blanket.

Reaching out for him?

He dropped to his knees again and took her hand. She quieted im¬mediately. He sat there, looking at her, waiting until her sleep deep¬ened again. That unconscious gesture of need and trust had taken him by surprise.

Good God, she was treating him like the father she had lost all those years ago.

No, she had never looked on her father as the Angel of Death. Whatever was going on between them had nothing to do with pater¬nal feelings.

On either side.

He cautiously released her hand and rose to his feet. He waited, gazing down at her. After a moment, he turned and went to the cock¬pit. 'How soon are we going to land?'

'Another ten minutes or so.' Dardon glanced at him as he sat down. 'How is she?'

'On the edge. Fragile as hell.'

'What happened to her?'

'She doesn't want to talk about it.' He added roughly, 'Hell, I don't want her to talk about it. She nearly fell apart when I pushed a little.'

'They're going to push her more than a little when you turn her over to Ferguson. She's caused too much uproar for them to just leave her alone.'

'And, of course, that's all her fault. She's a victim, dammit.'

'Easy.' Dardon held up his hand. 'I'm not saying that she's not. Just that everyone from the media to the U.N. is going to want an¬swers, and they're not going to be patient about it.'

Garrett knew that was true. It was what he'd been worried about since he'd realized how breakable Emily had become during those weeks of captivity. 'The media will be after her like a river of piranhas. And Ferguson and the rest will want her to furnish information so that they can go after Staunton and revenge her.' His lips twisted. 'Even if it kills her to do it.'

'Staunton?'

'He's our main target,' Garrett said. 'Get on the phone and see what you can find out about him.' 'What do we know already?' 'Nothing. I can't talk to her about him yet.' Dardon made a face. 'Great. You don't know anything?' 'I know I'm going to kill him.'

Dardon gave a low whistle. 'Radical. I thought it was going to be an in-and-out job.'

'It's not turning out that way.'

'You know, violence may be the last thing she needs. She appears very frail.'

'Then appearances are deceiving. She's going through a rough patch now, but you should have seen her following me through that blizzard. She was wounded and suffering from shock, but that didn't matter. No complaints. No hesitation. She just kept going.'

Dardon's brows rose. 'My, my, you sound like a proud papa.'

That damn father image again, Garrett thought. 'When did you ever know me to feel paternal toward any woman? She's just got guts, and I admire her for it.'

'And you're proud of her.'

He was proud of Emily. He was feeling possessive and protective in ways that he'd never experienced for any woman. Even though lust had been very present when he'd been holding her, it had not been the dominating factor… yet. What the hell was happening to him? 'Just find out about Staunton.'

'Why don't you ask Ferguson?'

'Ferguson always has his own agenda. I may not want him in¬volved.'

'How are you going to avoid it if you have to turn Emily Hudson over to him?'

'I'm working it out.'

Dardon's gaze narrowed on his face. 'That usually means compli¬cations. I take it you're not ready to share?'

'There's nothing to share.' He repeated, 'I'm working it out.' He stood up and took out his phone. 'Find out about Staunton.' He was dialing Ferguson as he stepped out of the cockpit. He glanced at Emily; she was still sleeping. But she was restless, and that sleep was probably filled with nightmares.

'Garrett?' Ferguson answered on the second ring. 'Where the hell are you? What's happening?'

'I got Emily Hudson out.' He kept his voice low, his gaze on Emily. 'Levy is dead.'

Ferguson started to curse. 'I guess one is better than none. Bandits?'

'Yes, Shafir Ali. He's dead, too.'

'And this Westerner you thought was involved?'

'I didn't see anyone but Shafir.'

'Where are you? When can I take Emily Hudson into custody?' 'That's up to her.'

'No way,' Ferguson said flatly. 'It's up to me. I'm the one who's tak¬ing the heat. The sooner I can produce the woman, the better for me.' 'But not necessarily better for her.'

'We made a deal. I gave Dardon the evidence. Now where are you?

'We made a deal that I'd go in and get Emily Hudson and Levy out if they were still alive. I've fulfilled my part of the bargain.' 'Where is she?'

'I'll have her call and tell you herself.' He hung up the phone. He had almost felt the scorching heat of the fury and frustration Fergu¬son had radiated. The first thing the CIA man would do would be to mobilize all his forces to try to locate him. Which meant Garrett would have to move fast, whatever he decided to do.

He checked his watch. They should be landing in five minutes, and he couldn't let Emily sleep any longer. He grabbed the clothes that Dardon had brought for Emily and crossed back to her.

She opened her eyes as soon she sensed him kneeling beside her. Garrett…

'We have to get you dressed. We're going to land. I told Dardon to check your sizes. I hope the clothes fit.' He pulled the cover down. Sit up.

She slowly sat up. 'I'm… stiff.'

'You have a right to be.' He slipped the straps of her bra over her arms and went around and fastened it. 'Dardon got his research wrong. This is too big for you.'

'I lost weight. I had trouble eating.'

He was silent. 'I should have thought of that. The other clothes will probably be loose, too.' He came around and held up the briefs, pants, and shirt. 'You're stiff and sore, and that leg is bothering you. I can either let you struggle to do the rest yourself, or I can help you and we'll get it done quick. You decide.'

She gazed at the clothes. He was right, it was stupid to try to be independent when it would hinder both of them. 'Help me. It's a lit¬tle late to worry about being embarrassed. I feel… comfortable with you.

'That's not really what I wanted to hear.' He began to dress her. 'Comfortable is boring. I've never aspired to boring.'

'WHERE IS THIS FIELD LOCATED?' Emily was gazing down at the flat, barren meadow below them as the helicopter began its de¬scent. 'I don't see anyone in sight.'

'We're about sixty miles from Kabul. You'd see an army of people during the growing season. It's a poppy field. The farmers harvest their opium and ship it out to the world. They can afford to stay in¬doors during the bad weather.' He shrugged. 'And it's convenient for us to have a landing spot where there's no one around to be too curi¬ous. I didn't think you'd like to be bombarded right away.'

'No.' She could feel her muscles tightening in response to that thought. 'No, I wouldn't.'

'Don't tense up,' Garrett said quietly. 'And don't start shaking. It's not going to happen. I promise.'

'I'm not-' She drew a deep breath. 'I'm not that fragile or-I was cold.'

'Whatever you say,' Garrett said. 'But I'm still not going to let you be put in the spotlight. I have a certain