Dire Distraction Page 4

  The boat lurched again, the motion sending Avery into the roof’s support beam, his head crashing into the overhang. This was definitely not a river to be taken lightly. His ears ringing, he found his balance again, grateful to see that Sydney had successfully piloted them around the maelstrom, the water calming a little as the rock faded to a shadow in the river behind them.

  “You all right?” she asked, shooting a sideways glance in his direction.

  “Fine.” He grimaced, rubbing the top of his head. “I don’t think this boat was really intended for someone my size.”

  Sydney smiled, her attention back on the river. “I’ll admit most of the people around here barely make it past five feet. But I’ve got a feeling there aren’t that many places in the world that were truly designed for a man your size.”

  “True enough.” He watched as the river rushed past, the trees along the banks bending with the force of the wind. “My mother used to say that if I didn’t stop growing, I was going to turn into Paul Bunyan.”

  “The one with the blue ox, right?” Sydney tilted her head to one side, her braided hair falling over one shoulder.

  “Yeah.” Avery grinned. “Exactly. And I figured that’d be a pretty good gig. I mean the dude had it going on. At least from the perspective of an eight-year-old. So needless to say, I drank my milk.”

  “And kept growing.”

  “To my mother’s dismay. Especially when she realized I didn’t have the talent to be a basketball player or the desire to play linebacker.”

  “You look like you could take out a player or two.”

  “That I can, but I never really saw the point in ramming guys just for the hell of it.”

  “So you joined the CIA.” Her laughter seemed at odds with the relentless fury of the storm, and yet still strangely in sync with it somehow. Sydney Price was definitely in her element.

  “Worse,” he said, still smiling. “I joined the Marines. Although to be fair, when they ram into somebody, there’s usually a damn good reason.”

  “I’m sure your mother was proud.”

  “Actually, she wasn’t. After basketball didn’t pan out, she’d kind of pinned her hopes on more traditional paths. Doctor or lawyer. She wasn’t really all that big on the military.”

  “What about your dad?”

  “He was never in the picture. I saw him only once, when I was about five. And it isn’t a very good memory.”

  “I’m sorry,” Sydney said, crinkling her nose in apology.

  “No worries. We did fine on our own. My mother was strict, but she was always there for me.”

  “And what about now? How does she feel about your working for Langley?”

  Avery sensed there was something more than casual banter to her question. “She never knew. She died before I joined the company. But I suspect she’d have approved even less. My mother was an opinionated woman. And the only thing she was less enamored of than the military was the government. Especially a prejudiced one.”

  “I can relate to that.” Sydney nodded. “On all counts. My mother does know what I do. And she most definitely doesn’t approve. She doesn’t consider it a fit occupation for an Asian woman.”

  “But you’re an American.”

  She shook her head. “Try explaining that to my mother. She’s from here. Laos. Raised in the Xieng Khouang Province.”

  “If I’m remembering right, they were hit pretty hard during the Vietnam War.”

  “Yeah, mostly by U.S. troops. I think it must have been really bad. My mother was only a little girl, but it definitely made an impression. And not a good one. Which is why my mother share’s your mother’s opinion of the U.S. military and by association the CIA.”

  “But she married a U.S. citizen,” Avery prompted, curious now.

  “She did. And my dad is as American as they come. Part Cherokee, actually. Born in the panhandle of Texas. They met when he was living in Laos, teaching English. It was love at first sight. In fact, there’s really only ever been room in their lives for the two of them. I was more like an afterthought.”

  “Were you born in Laos?”

  “Nope. Amarillo. But I spent some of my summers here. With ma tao.”

  “Your grandmother.”

  “You speak Lao.” She looked impressed, so much so that Avery found himself wishing that he actually could speak the language.

  “No. Just a smattering. I’ve worked a couple of operations in this part of the world. So I’ve picked up a few words here and there. But I doubt I could hold a conversation.”

  “Well, even a little is better than nothing.” She smiled. “People here will respect you for making the effort. Most foreigners don’t.”

  “So is that why you got posted here? Your fluency with the language and, I’m assuming, the culture?”

  “I imagine it’s why I got the job. But as far as the posting itself, I asked for it. Don’t get me wrong, I love Texas and I love America. But there’s a part of me that’s just more comfortable here.”

  “And, as far as Langley is concerned, it’s definitely an asset to have someone here who can pass as a native.”

  “Actually, I’ve never tried. I just play the mixed-race card. There are a lot of people here who fit that profile. Not really fitting into one culture or the other.” She shrugged. “I’ve felt that way most of my life. Both when I was living with my parents and when I was living here with my grandmother. After a while it starts to define you.”

  “I certainly can understand that. I think that’s where my mother was coming from all those years ago when she was fighting my career with the Marines. She wanted more than anything for me to be respected. And at least from her perspective, that wasn’t going to happen there.”

  “Well, if my intel on you and your unit is even half right, then I’d say you’ve more than proved her wrong.”

  “Don’t believe everything you hear.” It was his turn to smile.

  “No chance of that. Cynicism is programmed into my DNA. On both sides.” She turned the wheel to avoid a swell. “Anyway, the thing our mothers don’t understand is that it’s different now from when they were growing up.”

  “In some ways, definitely. But in others…” He trailed off, surprised at the serious turn of their conversation.

  “It is what it is, I guess.” She shrugged. “Anyway, add to all of that the fact that I’m a spook, and it isn’t really all that surprising that my mother disapproves of my choices. She’s all about the marriage-and-kids thing. Women in their proper places.”

  “And your father?” Avery asked.

  “I don’t know that he really cares what I do. I mean, he cares about me. And he wants me to be happy and safe and all that. But he’s really too involved with his own life to give too much thought to mine.”

  “Is he still teaching?”

  Sydney was silent for a moment, watching the river and the rain as she chewed on her bottom lip. “No. He works for the government. He’s in the diplomatic core.”

  “I see.” Avery frowned. “That must have been difficult for your mother.”

  “She’s just happy to be with him. One of the benefits of true love, I guess.”

  “You say that like you don’t buy it.”

  “I don’t think anyone should subjugate themselves to someone else. No matter what emotion is involved.”

  “You weren’t kidding about the cynicism.” He studied her profile for a minute, noting the stubborn jut of her chin. “It’s possible that what you see as subjugation is just commitment. Putting another person first isn’t always a bad thing.”

  “Have you ever been in love like that?”

  “Yes,” he said. “Once.” The word hung between them for a moment. It was the first time he’d felt uncomfortable around her, and he immediately regretted it, but he wasn’t ready to talk about Evangeline. “So where’s your father stationed?” he asked.

  “At the moment, Vienna.” Again she paused, and he was afraid she was going to as
k him about his wife, but instead she sighed. “He’s the ambassador there.”

  Avery frowned. “I thought Marshall Walker was the Austrian ambassador?”

  “He is,” Syd acknowledged, with a wry twist of her lips. “And he’s also my father.”

  “But your name is Price.”

  “It’s actually my paternal grandmother’s name. I started using it just after college, when I was first looking for a job. I didn’t want people to think I was trading on my father’s status. If you’ve heard of him, then you know he’s had a rather successful career.”

  An understatement. Marshall Walker was a mover and shaker. The top of the list when it came to D.C. headliners. There had even been talk of his running for president.

  “It’s just easier to divorce myself from all of that,” she continued. “Especially since I’ve been working with the CIA. There’s potential for real danger if the wrong people were to make the connection.”

  “I’m surprised actually that they let you do fieldwork—even with the name change.”

  “Well, I’ve always worked covert operations for one thing. Which means my cover is pretty damn tight. And my background is buried really deep. And it doesn’t hurt that no one out here really gives a damn about the ins and outs of American politics. Besides, I’m good at what I do. Anyway, you’re one to talk—Professor Solomon.”

  “Dean of students actually—and I’m pretty damn good at doing that. But you’re right, of course. Langley has made an art form out of creating covers. I was just surprised. I actually know your father, professionally at least.”

  “Then you must run in some pretty high-level circles.” She turned with a frown, her gaze assessing now. “My father isn’t the shake-hands-with-the-plebeians type.”

  “We served on a task force together once. And I’ve run into him from time to time in Washington over the years. Anyway, the point is, I’ve always been impressed.”

  “He’s a good man. Just a little myopic when it comes to certain things.” Again Sydney shrugged, but Avery had the feeling that there was more to it than that, but he didn’t know her well enough to push for more. And besides, he had more important things to deal with—like finding Shrum and, potentially, Evangeline.

  Chapter 4

  Syd slipped a sideways glance at Avery, then turned her attention back to the river. She wasn’t sure why she’d told him the truth about her father. It wasn’t something she usually discussed. But he’d asked her point blank and there was just something about the man that demanded truth. She wondered again just exactly who Avery Solomon really was. Clearly there was more to the man than just his job with A-Tac. Which in and of itself was pretty damn impressive.

  When she’d pressed her contacts for information, she’d been surprised with the range and accomplishments of the team Avery had assembled. They’d single-handedly managed to thwart a number of potentially deadly terrorist attacks, including an assassination attempt on one of the Middle East’s rising diplomatic stars.

  A-Tac was definitely one of Langley’s most elite units. And Avery had headed the team since its inception. Which made it all that much more puzzling that he’d come here on his own without their backing. She’d have understood if the op was off the books, but her orders had come from the top—the very top. And yet, here he was, hunting Shrum on his own.

  Not that she was complaining. The opportunity to work with someone of Avery’s caliber was a definite turn-on. And there was always the chance, if she handled it right, that she could segue this gig into a permanent placement with A-Tac. She’d hadn’t lied when she’d told Avery that she preferred going solo. But that didn’t mean she didn’t want to advance her career, and one way to do that was to make sure you were surrounded by the best of the best.

  It was one of the lessons her father had drilled into her at an early age. Always play tennis with people better than you. Much, much better.

  And if her intel was right, Avery Solomon was as good as they got.

  “Any chance this is going to let up?” Avery asked, breaking into her cascading thoughts.

  She looked up at the swollen sky and shook her head. “Probably not. It looks like it’s socked in for the rest of the day. Or what’s left of it.” She glanced down at her watch, surprised to see how late it had gotten.

  “So have you got somewhere we can put in for the night?” Avery asked, his gaze moving to the river banks and the palm trees whipping wildly in the wind.

  “I was hoping we’d make it as far as the cut off to Shrum’s. But it doesn’t look like that’s going to happen. Better to just find a place to hunker down and ride out the storm. Then we can try again in the morning. There’s a place a couple miles up the river from here, belongs to a friend of mine.” Belonged. She contained a shudder. She hadn’t been to Tim’s place since he died. Too many memories. Still, this wasn’t the time to let emotion stand in the way. “It’s nothing fancy but it should be dry.”

  “Beats sleeping in the rain,” Avery said, with a shrug.

  “Sorry this hasn’t exactly been a luxury cruise.” She forced a smile, pushing her thoughts firmly to the present.

  “I knew what I was signing on for,” he assured her. “You’re the one who’s being asked to take an unnecessary risk. This isn’t exactly a sanctioned op.”

  She turned to him in surprise. “But my orders came straight from Langley. I was told to give you carte blanche. No way is this mission off-book.”

  “I didn’t say it was,” he said, his liquid brown gaze meeting hers. “I said it was unsanctioned.”

  “It means the same thing.” She studied his face, trying to figure out what it was she was missing.

  “Actually, it doesn’t. If you go off-book, and believe me, I’ve been there and done that, you’re completely on your own. If you’re unsanctioned, you’re acting within the protection of the company.”

  “Until it all goes south,” she said. “At that point, the results are exactly the same. Langley hangs you out to dry.”

  “Well, there are differences. But I’ll grant you the outcome is pretty much identical.”

  “And finding Shrum is important enough for you to hang your career on it?”

  “Yeah, for me it is. But that’s not necessarily the case for you. I’d just assumed they’d read you in enough to know what the risks were. But since they haven’t, and since your career is only just starting, I’ll totally understand if you want to opt out.”

  “And what? Leave you on the river bank with a map?” She shook her head with a laugh. “I’ve no doubt that you’re good at what you do. And I’m sure you’re more than adept at handling dangerous situations. But sanctioned or not, your safety has been charged to me. And I’m not one to step down from a challenge. Besides, so far the only real danger we’ve faced has been the river.”

  “Famous last words,” Avery said, the thought clearly meant as a joke, but when he stilled suddenly, his brows drawing together as he turned to face the river behind them, she felt a shiver of worry trace its way up her spine.

  “You seeing something?” She asked, shifting so that she could better follow his line of sight.

  “I don’t know. Between the dusk and the rain, it’s hard to be sure of anything really. Add the sharp bends and twisting trees and I’m probably jumping at shadows.”

  “But—” she prompted.

  “But I thought I saw another boat out there. Smaller. And definitely faster. If I’m right, it’s still pretty far behind us.”

  “Yeah, but if it’s a speedboat, it’ll catch up really quick.”

  “You think it’s Wai Yan?”

  “Hard to say, these guys don’t exactly display their colors. But it’s a strong possibility.”

  “You said you had a truce. You think we should be worried?” he asked.

  “I think out here, we’d be foolish not to at least pay attention.” To underscore the fact, she opened a small footlocker sitting at the base of the wheelhouse, pulling out a pair o
f field glasses. “See if you can spot anything. And in the meantime, I’ll see what I can do to fortify our position.” She bent again and pulled out a rifle and then a handgun, sliding the gun into the space at the small of her back, then checking the chamber of the rifle.

  “You see anything?”

  “Roger that,” Avery acknowledged, handing her the glasses. “Seven o’clock, port side.”

  Syd took the glasses and gave Avery the rifle, which he slung over his shoulder, then she turned so that she could see the water behind them. At first, there was nothing but the heavy mist from the rain, but then a shadow detached itself from the far bank, the outline of the boat becoming more defined. Definitely a speedboat.

  “Looks like it’s closing fast.” She lowered the glasses, turning her attention back to the river in front of her, yanking the wheel to avoid a boulder jutting up out of the water. “Damned if we do, damned if we don’t,” she said, more to herself than anything, but Avery heard her.

  He rechecked the rifle and then tested its weight against his shoulder. “Glad to know my guide is prepared.”

  “There’s more ammo in the locker.” She nodded, still concentrating on the rush of water ahead. “And a couple of smaller guns as well. I keep them out of sight most of the time. But as I said, no sense in taking chances. It’s nasty weather, and it’s almost dark. I’d say anyone on the river is suspect.”

  “Including us,” Avery said, pulling a Walther PPK from a side pocket in his duffel. Like Syd, he slid it into the waistband of his pants.

  “Yeah, well, there aren’t really any truly good guys, are there?” She’d meant the words to be teasing, but somehow they’d come out a little stronger than she’d intended.

  “I don’t know about that,” Avery said. “I just think one has to choose one’s heroes carefully.”

  “So you really believe in heroes?”

  “I work with them every day.”

  The words were spoken with understated conviction, and she found them oddly comforting. Although she wasn’t really sure she believed them. People always had their own reasons for doing things. It was just the way humans were built. Self-preservation was hard-wired.