Dire Distraction Page 18

  Well, she’d be damned if she was going to let them use her to hurt either one of them. After all, she wasn’t exactly a helpless female. She twisted, trying to break her bonds. But the rope was nylon, and the more she struggled, the tighter the knots seemed to pull, the binding cutting into her wrists and palms.

  Next she tried to work her feet free, but again the knots refused to budge. Maybe if she could lift up, she could slide her hands over the top of the chair. It wouldn’t give her much, but it might allow her to at least pull herself out of the barn.

  Using her feet to push upward, she tried sliding her arms along the back of the chair, ignoring the bite of splinters as she moved. But just as she thought she might be making a little headway, she felt her hands hit something hard. A brace in the back of the chair. The rope had been threaded through it. There was no way to pull herself free.

  For a moment, defeat threatened to swamp her, but then she thought about all the reasons she had to live. Most of them involving Avery. She’d only just found him, and she sure as hell wasn’t going to give him up without a fight.

  Using her body for leverage and her feet to guide her, she began to inch the chair forward, the odd hopping motion sending dust flying into the still air of the barn. Ignoring the pain from the ropes cutting into her ankles and the blood dripping down her wrists, she continued the combination. Hop—slide—hop—slide. Each movement taking her closer and closer to her objective, a small saw hanging with several other tools on a pegboard near the far wall.

  It wasn’t the best of plans, but at the moment, it was all she had. Hop—slide—hop—slide. She’d made it only about halfway when she heard a door behind her swing open, the creaking sound filling the barn as the horse in the stall stomped in protest. Heart pounding, Sydney frantically scanned the immediate area for some kind of weapon, the tools, unfortunately, still tantalizingly out of reach.

  “Well done,” a man said as he moved into the light. Fine-boned with straight blond hair, he was well dressed and, judging from the fine lines around his eyes, just past middle age. His smile was cold, his green eyes devoid of emotion. “You almost made five feet. Of course, judging from the blood on the ground, I’d have to say the price was rather high, especially since you managed to accomplish nothing.”

  If she could have called up enough saliva, she’d have spit at the bastard. But her mouth remained stubbornly dry. So she settled for glaring at him instead.

  “Cat got your tongue?” the man taunted, his eyes narrowing, a hint of cruelty flashing there. “I’d have thought you’d be full of questions.”

  For a moment, she continued to stare at him defiantly, and then with a soft sigh, she capitulated the round. “What do you want with me?”

  “With you personally, nothing,” the man said. “As with most things in life, it’s all about who you know. And in your case, I’d say you’ve made the wrong connections.”

  Behind him, just visible among the shadows, two men with guns stood guard. Not the best of odds, but if she could keep him talking, maybe she could still figure a way out.

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she bluffed, not willing to give him anything without a fight—even information.

  “Why am I not surprised? They teach you how to handle this kind of thing at Langley, don’t they? How to hold out and keep from talking? Only you see, I already have all the information I need. For instance, I know that your father will do almost anything in order to guarantee your safety. And I also know that, if he were asked to do so, Avery Solomon would die for you. Men are so predictable in that way.”

  She swallowed a curse, kicking out with her feet in the hopes of at least causing him some pain. But he stepped easily out of her reach, a smile twisting on his face.

  She struggled for balance and then lifted her gaze to meet his. “You seem to know everything about me. It seems only fair that I know something about you.” She held his gaze, not allowing herself to flinch when he reached out to caress her cheek.

  “Such a lovely woman. And a spitfire to boot. I can see why Avery loves you. You’re very much like his wife.”

  “What the hell do you know about Evangeline?”

  “I know that if she’d lived, she’d have left him. She wasn’t the type to suffer overly protective men. Particularly Neanderthals like Avery.”

  “You have no idea what you’re talking about. Avery and Evangeline loved each other. And if she’d lived, they’d still be together.”

  “And you’d be out in the cold.”

  He was toying with her. Playing a game with rules only he knew. But she wasn’t going to give him the satisfaction of playing. “You still haven’t told me who you are.” She sat back, feeling calmer. Knowing that the only chance she had to escape was to stay alert and not let him manipulate her emotions.

  He studied her for a moment and then shrugged. “My name is Michael. Michael Brecht.”

  “And you killed Evangeline.” She’d said it to keep him off balance, but the minute the words were out of her mouth, she knew they were true.

  Anger flashed in his eyes, but just as quickly was gone, replaced with a cold mask of indifference. Whoever Michael Brecht was, he hid his emotions deep. “I didn’t kill her.”

  “Maybe not directly, but you were responsible nevertheless. You’re the one who ordered Isaacs to build that bomb. And Kamaal to set it off.” Again she had the sense that she’d struck a blow. But Brecht still held all the cards.

  “You know more than I expected. I suppose I shouldn’t have underestimated you. Not that it matters, you’re only a means to an end.”

  “And when you’ve finished using me, you’ll kill me.” Again she’d clearly shocked him with her directness.

  “That depends on your father. But before we get to that, I’m going to see about that trade I mentioned earlier. Your life for Avery’s.”

  “But surely the pain is more powerful if you kill me and leave him to live with the loss.”

  “Been there, done that,” Brecht waved a hand in dismissal. “Avery’s been a thorn in my side for too long now. First he took away the most important person in my life. And now he’s a threat to everything I’ve been trying to accomplish.”

  “You’re talking about the Consortium.”

  Brecht’s gaze raked across her face, his eyes narrowed as he studied her. “As usual, Avery has chosen well. Perhaps when this is over, I’ll have to try to win you over myself.”

  “Not a chance in hell.”

  “Never say never, my dear. But first things first.” Brecht pulled a cell phone from his pocket and dialed, his gaze still resting on her face as he waited for the other party to pick up. There was an audible click, and then he hit the button for speaker phone.

  “Avery Solomon?”

  “Who the hell is this?” Even over the phone lines his voice had the ability to soothe her.

  “Unless I’ve totally misread your little band of miscreants, I’m guessing you already know that. Surely pretty Hannah has put it together by now.”

  There was a pause, and Sydney could almost feel Avery’s anger arcing from cell tower to cell tower. “Look, Brecht,” he said finally. “Whatever is going on here, it’s between you and me. Let Sydney go.”

  “I can’t blame you for trying, but I hardly think I’m going to fold when I’ve got the winning hand. But you’re right. This is between you and me. So I’ll give you a chance to right the wrong. Be an honorable man. Your life for hers. It’s as simple as that.”

  “Just tell me where to come.”

  “I’ll text you the coordinates. But make no mistake, if you don’t come alone, or if I see any indication that your people are trying to back you up, I’ll kill her. One wrong move, Solomon, and she’s dead. Am I making myself clear?”

  “Crystal,” Avery said, his big voice filling the barn, giving her strength and, despite the reality of the situation, hope. “But before we have a deal, let me speak to her. I need to know that she’s all rig
ht.”

  Again Brecht hesitated, and then with a sigh, he held the phone to Sydney’s ear. “Avery?” she said, hating that her voice sounded shaky.

  “Sweetheart, are you all right?”

  “I’m fine,” she said, forcing herself to sound calmer. “But you can’t come for me. He’ll kill you if you do. Please, Avery, if you love me, don’t come.”

  “It’s because I love you that I’m going to do it. There’s no way I’m leaving you there with that bastard.”

  “But I can’t…I don’t…” she started but stopped, tears filling her eyes. “I won’t let you die for me.”

  “Well then, sweetheart, we’ll just have to figure out another option.”

  Brecht jerked the phone away, teeth clenched, anger flashing in his eyes. “Believe me when I tell you, Avery, that you’re all out of options. I promise, I’ve seen to that. So come quickly. And come alone. Or she dies.”

  He hit the disconnect button and dropped the phone back into his pocket. Then he reached out to run a finger along the line of her jaw. She jerked back, almost upsetting the chair, and he laughed. “I’m afraid, my dear, that you’ve put your money on the wrong team. But don’t worry, there’s still time to change your mind.”

  “Not likely,” she spat. “And besides, you’re not going to kill me. At least not yet. You’ve already said that you need me so that you can manipulate my father. And if he hasn’t already, Avery will figure that out.”

  “Ah yes, but you see the beauty of a man like Avery Solomon is that he’s predictable. Even if he believes there’s a chance I’m bluffing, he won’t risk your life on it. He’ll be noble to the very end.” Brecht stepped back, eyes sparkling with malice. “You know, if it weren’t so damned enjoyable, I might even feel sorry for him.”

  Sydney started to speak but held her tongue. There was nothing to be gained in tipping her hand. But clearly Michael Brecht didn’t know Avery Solomon as well has he thought he did.

  * * *

  “I’m here.” Avery walked into the barn, hands raised, palms turned upward. Everything depended on Brecht believing he’d truly come in alone. “Where’s Sydney?”

  “She’s safe,” Michael Brecht said, stepping into a pool of light cast from a bare bulb on the wall.

  “I want to see her,” Avery insisted, adrenaline coursing through his veins. There was no reason to believe that Sydney was dead. Because of her father, she was more valuable alive. No matter how much Brecht hated Avery. But fear worked its way up his spine anyway, the thought of losing her more than he could bear.

  Brecht tipped his head to one side, and a second light came on, this one over a stall. Beneath it, Sydney sat, gagged and bound to a chair. Avery took a step forward, but Brecht waved him still.

  “Not so fast. I need to be sure you’re unarmed.”

  “I told you I would be,” Avery snapped, his fear getting the better of him. But over Brecht’s shoulder, he could see Sydney nodding slightly, her green eyes telegraphing that she was just as angry as he was. And instantly he felt better. Sydney was a strong woman. And in the short time he’d known her, they’d already been through worse than this. All he had to do was keep Brecht distracted.

  “All right.” He held his arms out from his sides. “Have a look, if you don’t believe me.” Brecht signaled two men who’d been standing by the door. The first kept his gun trained on Avery while the second stepped forward. Gregor. Avery recognized him from Hannah’s photos.

  “Search him.” Brecht waved a hand, his gesture imperious, his expression smug. Bastard thought he had the upper hand.

  Gregor nodded, running his hands none too gently down Avery’s torso, arms, and legs. Carefully searching his ears, face, and mouth as well. “He’s clean. No weapons and no communications devices.”

  “Nice to know that you follow orders as easily as you give them,” Brecht noted as two more armed men walked into the barn. “Any sign of Mr. Solomon’s minions?”

  “No, sir,” the man replied. “He appears to have come on his own.”

  “What about his vehicle?” Brecht asked, his gaze darting from his man to Avery and then back again.

  “A jeep. The GPS and radio had already been disabled, and we checked thoroughly for any other kind of tracking device. It’s clean.”

  “Destroy it. And then keep a close watch on our perimeter. Despite Mr. Solomon’s apparent cooperation, it’s never a good idea to trust a gift horse.” For a moment, Brecht’s attention was centered on his men. And as the second group of men retreated, Avery took the opportunity to shift his position toward Sydney. They were only a few feet apart now, but Brecht still stood between them.

  “You seem to have thought of everything,” Avery said, more to keep him talking than because he cared. All he needed was a little more time.

  Over Brecht’s shoulder, Sydney’s gaze collided with his, and a million unsaid things were communicated with a single look. It was as if they were connected in some kind of cosmic way. Avery had never felt this way about another woman. Not even Evangeline. And his gut clenched at the thought that Sydney had come up on Brecht’s radar only because of her association with him. If he managed to get them out of this in one piece, he fully intended to spend the rest of his life making it up to her.

  “I didn’t get where I am by neglecting details,” Brecht was saying, thankfully not noticing their brief exchange.

  “Heading up the Consortium, you mean.”

  “That”—he shrugged—“and other things. You’ve no idea how many pies I have a finger in.”

  “We have more information than you’d think. Certainly enough to have thwarted several of your attempts to upend peace accords and throw off political balance.”

  “All the talks,” Brecht said, “they’re nothing more than false hope. Sooner or later it will all come unraveled. Human nature is to conquer and destroy. Anything else is simply a fool’s game.”

  “But this isn’t about the Consortium, is it? At least not at its core. This is about you and me.”

  “Beyond anything you can possibly conceive.” Brecht’s face contorted, rage turning it red. Hatred flashing in his eyes. “But now, finally, Gerhardt will have peace.”

  “Gerhardt is dead. Whatever peace there is in that, he found sixteen years ago.”

  “When you killed him.”

  “It was self-defense. The kid drew a gun. He didn’t give me a choice.”

  “There’s always a choice, Mr. Solomon. You just made the wrong one.”

  “Or you did. As I remember it, Gerhardt was there representing the seller. A last-minute replacement due to a conflict. So instead, it was his job to sell thirty-five Soviet cruise missiles. We’d been tracking them for months. And when word got out that they’d surfaced, we set up the sting. Gerhardt’s die was cast the minute you sent him in to make the sale.”

  “My brother was my life. And you’re right, I did send him in. But you’re the one who pulled the trigger.”

  “And your guilt is what’s driven you all these years.”

  “Make no mistake, Mr. Solomon. It’s not guilt that’s driving me. It’s hatred. For you and for all the others like you. Sanctimonious pricks who believe they’re serving the greater good. The only people you serve are yourselves and your need for the next adrenaline high. You’re modern-day cowboys, and people like my brother get caught in the crossfire.”

  “Then why the hell did you send him into that kind of situation?”

  “Because he begged me.” Bitterness filled Brecht’s voice, his pain palpable. Above him, in the shadows of the loft, Avery saw a flash of movement. “And I never could say no.”

  “And so all of this—” Avery waved a hand as if a gesture could encompass it all. “Evangeline. The Consortium. Sydney. This is because of one bad decision?”

  Brecht roused himself from his memories, pulling a gun. “This is because of you. You killed Gerhardt. You took him from me. And so I’ve taken everything from you.”

  “T
hat you have. But you promised you’d let Sydney go, if I came. So now is the time to honor that promise.”

  “Ah, but there is no honor among thieves, surely you knew that much.” He leveled the gun, pointing it at Sydney. Terror clawing at his gut, Avery launched himself at her, tackling the chair, driving both it and her to the ground, covering her with his body, mindless of the barrage of bullets exploding around him.

  For what seemed like an eon, he held her, praying that he’d been in time, that she was still breathing. Bullets ricocheted everywhere. He could hear the reverb as it bounced off the barn walls.

  And then everything was quiet. In his peripheral vision, he could see Michael Brecht, gun still clutched in lifeless fingers.

  Slowly, almost afraid to breathe, Avery moved back, his hands reaching for Sydney, fumbling with her bonds, and then she was in his arms. Warm. Alive. His heart started to beat again. And he held her close, content for the moment just to feel the rhythm of her breathing.

  “Hey, I know you’re happy to see each other again,” Drake’s voice broke through the silence. “But, really, I’d think you’d find a moment to thank the cavalry.”

  Drake stepped into the first pale rays of dawn as they slanted through the barn. Behind him stood Harrison and Hannah. Nash and Tyler dropped down from their places in the loft. And the team stood quietly surveying the damage. Brecht was dead. As were most of his men. A few, like Gregor, had been taken captive. The backup men from MI5 were already moving them out to be transferred for interrogation.

  It was a win. And hopefully a death blow for the Consortium.

  “Are you okay?” Sydney asked, pushing back from his embrace to search his face.

  “I’ve never been better,” he said. “It’s finally over. Brecht is dead. And we’re alive and we’re together. And I love you more than you can possibly imagine.”

  “Well, if you like, you could try to show me.” Her lips curved into a sexy smile, her eyes full of invitation.