Shadow Soldier. Dana Marton
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She felt the car lift from the ground and wanted to offer to get out. She was about to ask but then changed her mind. He had made it clear where he wanted her, and she did feel safer inside. Marginally. She might never feel completely safe again. People were trying to kill her. She wanted back her sane, ordinary world where things like that didn’t happen.
He was done in minutes and back in the driver’s seat next to her. “Are you ready?”
She wasn’t ready for any of this, but they couldn’t stay there in the middle of a field. She nodded.
He wiped his dirty hands on his jeans, then turned the key in the ignition, bringing the engine to life. He put his right hand on the wheel. His left held his gun out the open window, the barrel resting on the top of the side-view mirror.
The gesture had such a movie-like feel, she had trouble grasping the reality of it. Just that morning she’d been thinking how well her life was coming along. Sure, she was nobody’s idea of a perfect woman and would probably never fit into size-four pants, but she’d learned to live with that. She had a great house, two argumentative zebra finches, and a smoothly running consulting business she’d built with her own two hands.
“I keep thinking I’ll wake up to find all this was a nasty dream, brought on by eating too much chocolate before going to bed.”
Only when Alex turned to fix his attention on her, his dark eyes intense, did she realize she had spoken out loud. He hesitated for a second, as if weighing her words. He probably thought she was a complete idiot.
But he didn’t scoff at her. “That’s not going to happen, Nicola. I need you to be able to deal with the here and now.” His voice was calm and serious, the expression on his face somber.
She took a steadying breath then nodded as the truth of his words sunk in. She would handle whatever came their way. Because her only other option was to die.
Chapter Two
The General’s grip tightened on the phone at his ear. “What happened?” How was it possible that the girl had gotten away?
He leaned back in his leather armchair and rubbed the awakening ache behind the barely visible burn marks on his temples where the electrodes had been placed during the endless torture. Since then, when he got tense, he was prone to violent headaches.
“Forgive me, General. There was a man—”
“Get rid of the car and the body.” He stumped out his cigar. If someone saved her, it meant she had been watched, protected. He hadn’t expected that. A tactical mistake. His enemy was shrewd and the men behind him many. “And don’t come in.”
“Yes, General.”
He got up to pull down some of the bamboo shades, the glaring sunlight aggravating the headache. “Make sure you are caught soon. You know what to say.”
“Yes, General.” The answer took longer to come this time, but he had no doubt his men would follow his orders—even to their death.
He hung up the phone and looked out into the courtyard patrolled by his soldiers. Today’s mission had failed, but the rest of his small team was safe. The authorities would never find them. He knew what he was doing—he was a Meng, descendant of the famous fugitive.
His men would locate the girl again, and this time they would know what they were up against. An armed bodyguard. Maybe more. It didn’t matter. They would be ready. He had plans that would change his country, as well as the United States of America. Indeed, they might change the world.
But first he needed Nicola Barrington.
“THIS IS IT?” Nicola stared at the dubious-looking farmhouse as Alex pulled behind the building. The paint on the wood siding had peeled away years ago, only a few brownish-green patches hung on for dear life here and there. At least a third of the roof shingles had permanently departed, window blinds hung broken, and the porch railing appeared to have lain down to rest. The weeds they passed in front were respectable enough for a small jungle. The backyard was no better, dominated by an ancient oak and a dilapidated barn.
The uneasy feeling that had begun somewhere around her midsection when Alex had slowed the car in front of the place grew until tension stiffened her muscles and balled in her stomach. “Do we have to go in?”
“Yes.” His foot barely touching the gas, he let the car roll forward on the narrow path of gravel. “It’s safer inside. Get down. I’ll be right back.” He stopped the car and got out, leaving the motor running.
After a split second of hesitation, she did as she’d been told, knowing his orders were for her protection. She didn’t have to wait long before he came back and pulled the car into the barn.
He shut off the motor and got out to open the door for her. “We’re going in. Stay behind me.” He brought two Kevlar vests from the back of the car and handed her one. “Put this on.”
She tested the weight—surprisingly light. She had expected it to feel like old-fashioned armor, with steel plates inside, or something similar, but the vest didn’t feel like it held metal panels. The material was flexible. She fumbled with the Velcro.
“Hang on.” He stepped closer, his voice, despite having kept it low, echoed in the empty barn. “Lift your arm.”
She looked away while he secured the bulletproof vest on both sides. The large open space of the barn with all its shadows and smell of moldy hay made her nervous, though she knew he had checked it out before they pulled in. And having him in her personal zone made her jumpy, too. Massive in the shoulders, he towered at least a full foot over her.
She tended to be self-conscious about her height and weight. Richard, her ex-fiancé, had teased her plenty about both. She was “easier to jump over than run around,” he used to tell her. She’d stayed with him too long, wanting to please her father. God, she’d been stupid. Nothing she’d ever done pleased the man.
“There.” Alex stepped back then put on his own Kevlar before moving outside. He closed the barn door behind them but didn’t start out at once. He stayed motionless for several seconds while he surveyed their surroundings. Gun in hand, he led her across the small backyard, always one step ahead of her, shielding her from the road.
When they reached the house, he pushed her to the side, the gun in his right hand, his left on the door. It opened silently and did not, as Nicola had expected, fall off the hinges. The small entryway was dark. She could just make out the second door, solid steel by the looks of it.
Alex pushed a couple of buttons on the numeric keypad under the doorknob. “This way we don’t have to worry about a key.”
She followed him into the main part of the house and watched as he disabled the security system. He took off his vest and tossed it in the corner, shaking his head when she wanted to do the same. Weren’t they safe?
She looked around in the room that showed none of the neglect that plagued the exterior of the building. Tall ceilings, gleaming wood floors, spotless modern furniture and an entertainment system that would have made her own cry in envy. She had expected a card table with folding chairs and maybe a mattress on the floor. But despite the niceness of the place, she couldn’t relax. Maybe the house had bad feng shui. She stole a glance at