“Got ’em.” Taylor held the plastic fob uptriumphantly.
“Nice going.” Will meant it.
“Thanks. You can pay for the rekey of my house.”
Will ignored that. “Now we just need to get rid ofthe bracelets. I’ve got an extra set of handcuff keys in myluggage.”
“Back at the hotel? How’s that’s going to help?”
“Hey, I’m open to suggestion. Unless the suggestionis you want to shoot the cuffs off.”
“It works in the movies.” Taylor was moving alongthe road, searching for his pistol. Will was forced to follow.
“I hope you’re kidding.”
Taylor grunted. He squatted down to retrieve hispistol, and Will was forced to squat too, watching as Taylor dustedoff the clumping sand.
“Nice of him to leave us these. We’d have a hell ofa time explaining how we both lost our pieces.” Taylorshoved the pistol into his shoulder holster.
“No kidding.” Will met Taylor’s eyes. “Hey.”
Taylor was silent.
“Just so you know, if I have to be shackled tosomeone, I’d choose you. Every time.”
He saw the glimmer of Taylor’s teeth as he curledhis lip in something that was not exactly a smile. “Just a wild andcrazy romantic, aren’t you, Agent Brent?”
“Yep, little man, I am.”
Taylor gave him a friendly shove, and they bothnearly overbalanced.
Maybe the camaraderie was a little forced, but ithelped ease the strain between them. Dusting off their hands, theywent to retrieve Will’s weapon.
He found his SIG Sauer P229 a few feet from the car.Wincing at the thought of grit working its way into the mechanism,he wiped away as much wet and sand as he could with the tail of hisT-shirt. He reholstered the pistol with a feeling of relief.
“I lost my pen,” Taylor said. “Do you haveyours?”
Will felt around, handed his pen over.
Taylor held it up. “I can’t seeanything.”
“What is it you need to see? Because unless you’replanning on writing your resignation, we need to get out of herepronto.”
“I know. Let’s get in the car.”
“Uh, don’t we need to change the tire first?”
“First we need to get out of these cuffs, but I haveto be able to see what I’m doing.”
“What are you doing?” Will inquired as theyunlocked the car. Taylor crawled in first, followed by Will, whoslid beneath the wheel. The pine tree-shaped deodorizer swayedgently, its artificial scent mingling with that of wet clothes anddesert rain.
“I’m going to make a shim and pick this lock.” Withhis free hand, Taylor reached up and turned on the dome lamp.Pallid light illuminated his face. For a second, Will stared athim, stared at a face he knew as well as his own: the wide,long-lashed green eyes, the full, sensual mouth, the silver streakin the dark hair starting to curl with the damp.
Unaware of his scrutiny, Taylor was busily takingthe pen apart, prying the silver clip from the body. “Hold yourwrist up.”
“I don’t recall lock picking as part of my FLETCtraining.”
Taylor grinned faintly as he slid the piece ofdismantled pen between the teeth and the mechanism of the cuffs.There were goose bumps on his brown, thinly muscled forearms. Thetip of his tongue touched his upper lip. Will felt an inappropriatelonging to pull him into his arms and hold him for a moment.
Possibly more than a moment. And possibly do morethan just hold Taylor. But definitely inappropriate.
Taylor levered the shim, wiggled it, pushed, and theteeth of the lock, thrown out of alignment, clicked over. The cuffopened. He smiled broadly.
Will rubbed his wrist. “Nice job, MacGyver.”
“Thanks. Now me.” He frowned, trying to crane hishead to see the lock mechanism properly.
“Someday you’re going to have to tell me where youlearned some of these esoteric skills of yours.”
“Boy Scouts.”
“You weren’t in the Boy Scouts.”
“True. I knew one or two, though.” He spared a winkfor Will. “Hold that cuff out of the way.”
Will obeyed.
It took a little longer, but in another minute orso, Taylor too was free.
Will expelled a long sigh of relief. They were backin action. Hopefully not too late to fix this fucked-up operation.“Let’s get that tire changed.”
Taylor tossed the broken pen into the cup holder.“Roger that.”
“And then,” said Will, yanking open the car dooragain, “we’re going to knock that goddamned giant off his goddamnedbeanstalk.”
Chapter Four
The rainlashing out of the darkness and streaming in rivulets down thewindshield looked white-blue in the artificial glare of theheadlights. The wipers could barely keep up. Ahead of them, thenarrow road was a winding, slick ribbon of night. The hills aroundthem were shapeless black bulk.
Eyes intent on the muddy road ahead, Taylor was gladWill had elected to drive. He’d rarely seen worse weatherconditions outside of Japan. “God almighty. What is with this rain?It’s summer.”
The car lagged as Will shifted into a lower gear.“We’re in the mountains. And July is the rainy season.”
“Great. On the upside, they can’t be making muchbetter time than we are.”
Will, his attention on the winding road ahead,grunted.
Taylor glanced at the dashboard: 3:18. It wasbeginning to feel like the longest night in his life. He refocusedon the screen of his BlackBerry GPS — essentially useless at themoment thanks to the lack of steady signal. Happily he could stillread a map, and the BlackBerry was at least serving as a light forhis navigating.
“Sierra Blanca Regional Airport is northwest ofhere. It looks like it’s just over an hour.”
“Okay. What am I looking for?”
“West Smokey Bear Boulevard.” He looked up from themap to stare at the nightmare landscape swinging past as Will spedalong the canyon road. “Jesus, I believe it. It’s like the BlackForest through here.”
“City boy.”
Taylor acknowledged it without resentment. “Youknow, no way is Nemov going to try and drag her on a plane. Hecan’t depend on us not going for help.”
Will threw him a somber look. “No?”
“Okay. Maybe he can. But I still don’t think he’sgoing to make for the airport. Not the local airport anyway. Ithink he’ll
