The Perfect Hostage (A Super Agent Novella) (Entangled Edge) (8 page)

The cart attached to the ATV broke loose as both men and the ATV hit the lake and spun in circles. Saunders and John skated on their backs to a stop while the ATV righted itself, and the tires dug in again.

Lucie gasped. The ATV was headed right for them. Either it was an older model with no kill switch or the switch had been disabled.

John rolled, grabbing Saunders by the hood of his coat and jerking him into the ATV’s path. The impact made a deafening crunch. Lucie flinched, covering her ears. The cart skidded past John and crashed into the ATV, now stalled on top of Saunders.

Several seconds passed, the only sound the ATV’s motor. Lucie’s breath came fast, her pulse pounding loudly in her ears.

“John?” She struggled to her feet.

He came up on all fours, lifting a hand in a
stop
signal. “Stay there.”

“You’re hurt, and you’re barely dressed. We need to—”

“Stay there!”

She pulled up short, watching him as he crawled over to Saunders’s body and checked for a pulse.

John sat back on his ankles, exhaustion oozing from every pore. “He’s dead, Lucie,” he called. “It’s over.”

Ignoring his demand to stay where she was, she rushed the ice, falling down next to him and hugging him to her. She laughed with relief and tried not to cry.

Failed.

His hand stroked her hair like she was child. His voice came out soft and low. “You did good, darlin’, but I need you to do one more thing for me, okay?”

She lifted her head and nodded through the tears.

“There’s a helicopter on its way, but I won’t be awake when it lands. Tell them I’ve been knifed in the back, could be my kidney, and I need…”

His eyelids fluttered closed. He sank sideways, one hand fumbling in his pants pocket. Two cell phones fell out. Hers and his.

She shook his shoulders, slapped his cheeks. Tried to get him upright again. “John, wake up. What do you need?”

He didn’t respond, his body totally limp.

For the first time ever, French failed her. English did not. “God
damn
it! Don’t you do this to me.” She had to get him inside and warm him up. She tugged at his dead weight. “I love you, John! Do you hear me? I love you and I need you.”

He moaned, opened his eyes. With some effort, the two of them leveraged him into a sitting position. “I can’t feel my feet,” he murmured. “Grab my boots and coat.”

In the distance, she heard a
womp
ing noise.

The helicopter.

“I’ll be right back,” she promised, picking up both phones and running for the cabin.

The phones rang, one after the other. The display on John’s showed a weird number, but she’d seen it before on Zara’s phone.

Langley. The CIA.

Lucie’s phone ID read Zara’s number.

Brushing tears off her face, she answered her phone as she made it to the cabin’s front door. “John’s in trouble.”

“I know,” her sister answered. “Help’s on the way. Are you okay?”

No.
“What should I do?”

“Unlock the front door and let the men in the helicopter inside. They can help him.”

No need to unlock the door. “He’s bleeding. He said it was his kidney.”

A pause. Zara spoke with her hand over the phone. Probably to Lawson.

Lucie located John’s boots and coat, headed back out to the lake where John now stood. Lucie smiled. He was standing on his own.

In the background, Lucie heard Lawson swear on Zara’s end.

“Luce?” Zara came back on the phone. “Lawson said he’s going to need emergency surgery. They’ll take him directly to the medical center. Lawson and I will come get you and take you there.”

John’s phone quit ringing and started again. The noise of the helicopter blades echoed over the lake. Lucie raised her voice. “I’m going with him.”

She disconnected before her sister could say anything. Picked up John’s phone and answered it. “Who is this?” a male voice demanded.

“Lucie Morgan. Who are you?”

“Conrad Flynn. Might remember me from your last stint in Europe.”

She didn’t. His name, yes. He was director of the spy group and Zara’s boss, but the only person she
really
remembered from her so-called
stint
was John. Everyone else was a blur. “Before you tell me I can’t go with John on that helicopter, let’s get one thing straight. I’m calling the shots here, not you.”

Silence. Then, “How bad is he?”

“He’s hurt…” Her voice wobbled. “I’m not sure how badly.”

Across the expanse, John started walking toward her. More of a shuffle, and he was holding his side, but the fact he was walking was a good sign, right?

Flynn sighed on the other end. “He’s one tough SOB, so don’t give up on him.”

She would never give up on him. “He saved my life. Again.”

John raised a hand, reaching for her as he drew closer to the edge of the lake where the ATV had hit. “I have to go, Director.”

“Keep this phone on you. I’ll call you again in fifteen minutes.”

The line went dead.

Lucie shoved the phone into her pocket and started forward.

CRACK!

John froze, looked down, then up at Lucie, his eyes widening.

Panic grabbed her by the throat.
No.
“John! Don’t move!” The ice…the lake…it had to be frozen solid. Why was it cracking? “Don’t—”

Another crack echoed across the lake, and w
hoosh
, just like that, John was gone.

Chapter Nine

One second, John was hobbling toward her, the next, he was gone.

She dropped the boots and ran, screaming his name. Water rose from the jagged hole where he’d disappeared and a large crack jutted east, like a finger pointing at her.

She yelled his name again and his head bobbed to the surface. One arm flung out and he grabbed onto an icy mound of snow, spewing water and gasping. Lucie flopped onto her stomach, shimmied forward opposite the crack, and reached out with both hands.

His other arm emerged and he clutched her forearm. Locking both hands on him, she tugged, digging her toes and knees into the snow and scooting backward as she heaved.

He was too heavy. She tugged again, gritting her teeth.

His teeth chattered so hard, she could barely understand him when he spoke. “Careful. Ice…may…break…again.”

“I won’t let you fall!”

He met her eyes. There was admiration there. Even a little awe.

Overhead, the approaching helicopter appeared from behind a grove of aspen trees, its noisy blades kicking up snow and blinding her. John used the mound of snow and her counterweight to heave his upper body out of the water, but that seemed to tax the last of his energy. He flopped facedown onto the ice.

Tremors shook his body and Lucie was afraid he’d slip back in. She was shaking, too, her body numb with cold and fear. Still, she dug in her toes and held on tight.

The helicopter landed on the boat dock and three men spilled out, one of them zipping up a bright orange suit. Another, dressed in military attire, stomach-crawled to her, wrapping strong hands around her ankles once he made contact. The third man stood near the dock, securing one end of a yellow harness around a beam. The man in the orange suit carried the harness to the edge of the hole on the west side and jumped in. He bobbed in the water, locked the harness around John’s torso, and after making sure everything was secure, he touched the top of his head. A signal to the man at the dock. He pulled, and at the same time, the man in the hole lifted John from the water.

Lucie’s relief was so great, she laughed out loud. But she was so cold, the laugh sounded like a squeak. A second later, she was lifted and carried to the helicopter. The men loaded John onto a gurney. She accepted a blanket and watched them lift John in beside her.

The second the door closed behind their rescuers, the helicopter lifted off. John’s eyes were closed and his face was ashen. What was it that he needed for her to tell these men? He’d never answered her after he took out Saunders.

She grasped his cold, stiff hand and leaned in as the men began administering medical treatment. She needed to move out of the way, but not before she whispered in his ear. “Remember what you told me when you rescued me from Dmitri? ‘Never give up. Never surrender.’ Don’t give up, now, John. Don’t
ever
give up.”

His hand gave hers a tiny squeeze.

Chapter Ten

What John needed was three hours of surgery.

Once he was in the operating room, CJ, one of the rescuers, insisted Lucie see a doctor as well.

Her neck was bruised and so was her back. The doctors stuck her in a bed, put her on an IV, and ran some tests. She felt they were unnecessary, but at least they kept her from pacing the floor while she waited for John to get out of surgery. The doctor ordered a sedative. She refused.

An hour in, Lawson and Zara arrived, and behind them came the man named Flynn.
Director
Flynn. He shooed everyone out, including Zara, shutting the door so they could speak in private. Zara, insisting she be included, complained when he told her to leave, but Flynn gave her one look with his dark, steely eyes and Zara quieted, rolled her eyes, and gave Lucie’s arm a squeeze before allowing Lawson to lead her out of the room.

Being alone with Director Flynn made Lucie nervous. He was John’s complete opposite, brimming with a tightly controlled energy that reminded her of a panther.

Drawing up a chair, he didn’t start with a dozen questions like she expected. Instead, he told her a story about John in Moscow. How he’d helped stop the Russian president from starting a nuclear war and saved Flynn’s best friend on top of it.

Hero
, he called John, and Lucie nodded. “He’s my hero, too.”

Over the next twenty minutes, Flynn told her more stories about John’s latest missions—not specific details, but enough information so that she understood the danger and pressure he’d been under during them—and about how hard he was on himself because they didn’t turn out the way he thought they should have. Then he asked her to tell him about what had happened at the Morgan cabin.

He understood John, she realized, and it was easy to talk to him once she knew that. She told him everything she remembered—leaving out the fantasy sex, because that was TMI, as Zara would have said—and answered Flynn’s questions to the best of her ability.

“Saunders rode in on a four-wheeler,” he told her, “and from my techie guru’s analysis of that laptop, he planned to fly you to Bolivia, and then from there to a few other out-of-the-way spots before he landed in Switzerland. The man with him was a former police officer who was discharged two months ago pending investigation. Saunders had promised him a chunk of your trust fund for helping him out, but our guess is he planned to leave the guy high and dry.”

Director Flynn sat forward and placed his elbows on his knees. His eyes were nearly black, the panther in him resurfacing. “My tech guy will get your money back, but it may be months or even longer before the investigation is over and all the bureaucratic red tape is cut.”

“I don’t care about the money.”

He chuckled. “Your father does.”

Her father. How was she going to face him? What would he say about the cabin? About the missing money? Would he blame her?

Lucie found she didn’t care. “I want John to be my family now.”

One of Flynn’s dark eyebrows rose. He smiled. “John’s a lucky man.”

No, he wasn’t. “After this, he’ll never want to see me again. All I do is cause him trouble.”

Flynn waved off her statement. “The man thrives on trouble.”

“Saunders had a file on John. He said he’s not the type to ever settle down.”

“And Saunders profiled you and your dad as
rich bastards who don’t care about anyone else
, that’s what you quoted him as saying, right? Is that label accurate?”

“No.”

He shrugged.

Point taken. Lucie looked down at the IV in her arm. “Can you get the doctor to discharge me?”

He nodded and stood. Held out a hand. “You’re a lot like Zara, you know that?”

She shook his hand. “She’s tougher. And nicer. But I hope to be like her when it comes to finding a good man who doesn’t care what my last name is or how much I’m worth.”

“I think you’ve found him.”

“I think I have, too.”

…

John woke in a recovery room. The shades were closed but sunlight crept in around the edges. A heart monitor beeped next to an IV pole. He floated in a sweet, drug-induced haze…one where Lucie was sitting in a chair by the bed, her hand intertwined with his as she slept with her head next to his chest.

He gave her hand a squeeze, watched her waken. She lifted her head and looked at him, a smile like he’d never seen breaking over her face. Amazed. Hopeful. Happy.

He gave her a loopy smile. His mouth was dry and his voice cracked when he spoke. “Tell me…you’re…okay.”

Her eyes glistened with tears. “Better than okay. The doctors saved your kidney and said you’ll be back to work in a few weeks. The ice bath gave you hypothermia but it also stopped you from bleeding out.”

His memory was fuzzy. “Did I kill him?”

“Both men are dead.”

He tried to call up some remorse. Failed.

But Lucie shouldn’t have witnessed such a horrible thing. She’d have nightmares on top of nightmares now. “Lucie, I—”

She kissed him…a soft, sweet kiss that told him it was okay.

Even in his woozy state, the touch of her lips sent his body into overdrive. When she started to pull away, he grabbed her arms and kissed her back, deepening it and hoping the kiss conveyed all the pent up feelings he couldn’t.

Her lips parted and she sighed into his mouth, giving him access to all of her. He took that as a good sign and swept his tongue around her mouth, enjoying the familiar feel of it.

Home
.

The drugs didn’t stop his lower half from responding to the heat suddenly coursing through his body. When they broke apart, Lucie could obviously feel how aroused he was, and laughed. “You just had major surgery.”

Didn’t he know it. Already his side and back were screaming in grief, regardless of the drugs. “What can I say? I can’t resist you.”

She straightened and looked down at him. The smile faded. “So you’ll stick around this time?”

“Does it look like I’m going anywhere?”

A knock on the door interrupted them. Charles Morgan stuck his head in. “May I come in?”

Lucie tensed. “The nurses said I was the only person allowed in here.”

John supposed Lucie was the closest thing he had to family outside of Lawson, but she still wasn’t a relative. “How
did
you get them to let you in?” he asked.

A flush rose on her cheeks. “I told them I was your wife.”

John smiled.

Without missing a beat, she smiled back.

Home.

Charles cleared his throat, looked chagrined. “The nurse said it would be okay for me to visit John for a minute or two. It’s important. I need to talk to both of you.”

Lucie shifted her body, shielding John and his roaring erection. “Now is not the time to talk about the money.”

Ignoring the pain in his back, John stretched to peer around her.

Charles stepped into the room, his gaze roaming over Lucie as if he were seeing her for the first time. “I don’t care about the damn money.”

“You don’t?”

“My daughter was kidnapped and nearly killed. Again.” He moved forward. Stopped. “Lucie, I’m sorry.”

The wind went out of her. Her butt hit the side of John’s bed. “For what?”

Charles put his hands in his pockets. “Every time I look at you, I see your mother. You may not believe this, but I cared for her a great deal. It’s difficult for me to…ah…not think of her whenever I see you. I was giving you the money to relieve my guilt over what I did to her, not being able to marry her, and, in turn, to you. But now…I just want you to come home.”

The drugs were screwing with him. He could have sworn there were tears in the man’s eyes.

Charles wasn’t done. He walked around the bed to John’s other side. “And you, young man, I owe you a great debt.”

John didn’t want the man in debt to him. All he cared about was Lucie. “I love Lucie, sir, and if she’ll have me, I’d like to stick around.”
Permanently
.

His future plans must have shown in his eyes. Charles smiled a knowing smile. “If that’s what Lucie wants, you’re welcome in our home, son. Anytime. I’ve been an idiot and I hope you won’t hold that against me.”

Son
. John’s head rejected the term like always, but his heart didn’t. He squeezed Lucie’s hand again. “Lucie’s my home, sir. I know that now. Wherever she is, I’ll be there.”

John felt her reassuring squeeze back.

“Very good.” Charles looked from John to Lucy. “Olivia and I have discussed it. I’m selling that damn cabin and Olivia wants to find a weekend place closer to Arlington. Closer to you and Zara, before the baby comes. What do you think, Lucie? Can you stand having us around a bit more?”

Lucie leaned over and threw her arms around Charles, nearly making the man fall on top of John. She was so full of life, so full of everything he’d always needed and never had. He wanted to grab her and hug her to him and never let her go.

Charles gave his daughter an awkward pat on the back, glanced at John with a smile.

“I believe my minute is up. I’ll let the others know you’re all right.”

“The others?” Lucie asked.

“The rest of the family. They’ve been calling and stopping by. Everyone’s quite worried about both of you.”

Lucie made a surprised sound in the back of her throat. “
Vraiment?
”

“Yes, really.”

She walked her father to the door, hugged him again, and saw him out. Once he was gone, she came back and sat by the bed. “I have a family. A real family.”

“Looks that way.”

“Not them.” She met his eyes. “You.”

The pain in his back meant nothing when she looked at him that way. His past failures had less hold. “I’ve never said this to anyone before, Luce, but I, ah…” He took a deep breath to steady his shaking body. To steady his heart. “I love you.”

“Good thing, since you’re going to be at my mercy for a few weeks.”

The sheet tented again. “I hope to be at your mercy for the rest of my life.”

She stood and leaned over him, touching his lips with hers. “I love you, John Quick.”

He kissed her back. “We still on for Disneyland?”

“
Bien
sûr
.” This time, she laughed, light and easy. “The happiest place on earth,
oui?
”

“
Oui
,” he answered, knowing the happiest place on earth for him would always be with her.

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