She stared into two round icebergs, eyes as crystal blue as she'd ever seen. They would have been beautiful had they not been so full of evil. His eyes were cold, calculating, emotionless—the opposite of Dak’s, though he certainly had the calculating part as well.
"I am Bo Taylor," the stranger said with an odd sort of pride in his voice, as though he were giving himself some kind of grand introduction to speak at a TED talk. "I used to work with your ex-boyfriend, Dak. He and I had a little disagreement. Maybe you heard about that."
She didn't respond, merely glowered at him from her chair.
"At this very moment, Dak and his friend are being pursued by some men who very much want him dead. They will stop at nothing until he is. Or until he kills them. The beauty of all that is, either way, Dak loses. If he is killed, perfect. I let you go and I disappear with my new identity, never to worry about looking over my shoulder for the rest of my life. On the other hand, if he kills the men who are after him, he becomes the monster they already believe him to be. More will come for him until, inevitably, he dies."
Bo shrugged and tossed his head to the side. "You may be wondering why I'm here with you. Let's just call it a little insurance policy. Dak has the tendency to be lucky. If, by the remotest chance, he's able to slip through the fingers of those who are chasing him, I'd prefer to have a bargaining chip."
"You won't get away with it," she managed through the gag. Her voice was muted, choked, but her words were clear enough. "Dak will find you. And he will end you."
Nicole had no idea if she was right. She didn't have a clue what kind of people were trying to corral the man she loved. There it was. An admission. Even in her private thoughts, she knew it to be true. She still loved him with all of her being. Dare she hope he still felt the same, after all the things she'd said to him, all the reckless, bitter darts she'd flung from her mouth?
She wasn't sure, but at the moment, hope was all she could hold on to.
Ten
Nazaré
Dak heard the problem before the door to the stairwell was completely open. Footfalls, multiple pairs of them, echoed up from below. He stood in the doorway for a moment, listening. No one was barking orders. If the hit squad had radio communications—and he was sure they did—no words were said.
This team knew the plan and every person in the group operated as a single unit, an extension of command.
The group did their best to stay silent, but there was no mistaking the sound, not to Dak's well-trained ear. He and Will were out of time. The elevator would be covered. Maybe they could get off on the second floor and find a way out through a window. Dak doubted that notion's plausibility. It didn't matter. He knew the assault team would have the elevators covered, and probably shut down. If they hadn't done that yet, it would come.
Dak knew he had to make a decision. Will looked at him, silently begging for answers.
If they went down, they'd have to shoot their way out. Dak didn't like the idea of killing other American soldiers. Maybe they weren't American. The colonel could have brought in bounty hunters from all over the globe to track down Dak and his friend. Even then, Dak loathed the idea of killing people who'd been hired for a job, a job they believed to be just. Some mercenaries didn't operate with a conscience. He'd seen those types before, but without a way to distinguish the bad apples from the good, he preferred to run rather than fight his way out.
His thoughts instantly flashed back to the current predicament. There was no way down to the main floor that didn't involve a bloody gunfight. That left one option: they'd have to go up and risk a daring escape across the rooftops.
"Come on," he whispered to Will. Without waiting for a reply or a breath of protest, Dak slipped into the stairwell and started to climb.
Will had no choice but to follow. He hurried after his friend, staying close behind him, using the edges of the steps to keep silent. The two kept their feet apart as they climbed to prevent their pants from swishing together as they moved. They rounded the top landing and slowed at the doorway to the rooftop. Dak pushed gently on the bar, then waited.
Will's eyebrows knit tightly together at Dak's hesitation. "What are you doing?" he mouthed.
"Wait," Dak ordered silently.
Will drew his weapon and aimed it down the flight of stairs, certain the assailants would appear around the corner of the next landing below. He didn't dare look over the railing in case one of the men below happened to look up.
Dak listened intently. The sound of a door being jerked open reverberated from below. The second it did, Dak pushed the rooftop door open and stepped out into the warm, bright sunlight. He winced and wished he had time to get his sunglasses from the bag on his back, but that was a luxury he couldn't afford.
He hurried out onto the roof and surveyed the immediate area. The next building was fairly close, and one story below Will's, but after that, he recalled the gap between the second apartment complex and the third spanned at least sixty feet, separated by a small courtyard in the middle.
Dak pictured the attackers' approach to Will's apartment. He visualized them moving down the hall with every second he stood still on the roof. They would enter the apartment soon, breaching the door and sweeping every room until they realized their quarry was gone.
"Come on," Dak
