Hard Target Page 3

  Tay's professional eye found the closed circuit cameras. One focused on the cage and rear entrance, the other on the compound.

  He also noticed several locals smoking nearby. This being a government building, smoking wasn’t permitted inside. But lounging around when the embassy was at full alert? That will change, he decided immediately.

  One local, most likely a driver, walked over to the cage. After he'd unlocked the gate and swung it around, Dawna backed the car inside.

  They climbed out and started toward the rear entrance. Behind them, the man relocked the cage. Two other men appeared inside the rear airlock. Spotting them, the locals jumped to attention. "That's the Ambassador," Dawna explained, falling into step beside Tay. "The man behind him is his escolta. I'll introduce you."

  Tay glanced around. Tropical foliage lined one side of the courtyard, and a small grassy area hinted at the embassy's previous life. His gaze focused on the one nearby building that didn't belong to the embassy. Most windows had been opened to catch the breeze, but no one stood near them.

  Tay paused. For a busy city, the apartment felt oddly quiet. Beside him, Dawna halted, too. Again, her perfume drifted around him. Automatically, he glanced down at her, all the while, drawing in his breath-

  Several sharp pings ripped through the courtyard inches from them. A chunk of cement flew away like a missile, while smaller pieces sprayed up to sting Tay's cheek.

  His hand flew outward, not to his face, but to Dawna as his training kicked it. Immediately, he shoved her to the ground, falling on top of her a split second later. He glanced up at the Ambassador, all the while pressing Dawna into the pitted concrete.

  The escolta had already hauled the Ambassador deeper into the embassy and out of sight. The local men outside flattened themselves against the short stairs. One dove into the building a second before another volley of gunfire chewed up a line from Dawna and Tay to the cement steps.

  Dawna tried to buck Tay off, but he resisted. She didn't need to see if the Ambassador was safe. He had eyes. Someone shouted at the back door of the embassy. Tay didn't understand the words, nor was he prepared to sit up and call for the English version. He tipped his head down until his mouth touched the soft curve of Dawna's ear.

  Trying to ignore the way she ground her buttocks into his groin, he whispered, "The Ambassador wasn't even outside yet. And you're still not convinced you could be the target?"

  Chapter Two

  The ambassador! Dawna's first thought went for his safety.

  But Tay's long, heavy frame crushed her into the gritty cement. Her head stung where she'd rapped it and her knee ached, too, having absorbed the full weight of both her and Tay.

  Another volley of shots peppered the wall beside the back door. Before Tay shoved her head down, Dawna caught a glimpse of an escolta dragging the ambassador back before falling on top of him. In front of them, Marconi scrambled for the door.

  For the next few moments, she could hear only shouting. No gunfire. She twisted about and peered through Tay's encircling arms. The building beside them - how many windows faced this side? Could she see anyone?

  Nothing. All the windows were empty.

  Tay whispered something in her ear, but her attention stayed focused on the ugly cement wall looming over the courtyard.

  Blast it! No movement, no more gunfire to help locate the sniper, nothing. Finally, Tay shifted, easing his weight away as he stood. She scrambled up, sweeping her wayward hair from her face. Tay grabbed her arm as soon as she was upright and together they bolted for the back door.

  Marconi held it open for them, encouraging them in Spanish to hurry. Dawna expected more shots to chase them into the building, but thankfully, the sniper didn't oblige. Inside, she glanced around. Only Tay and Marconi were with her in the mantrap.

  "The Ambassador?" Tay demanded as they surged through the rear door's metal detector.

  "Safe. Downstairs in the bunker," Marconi said in halting English as he pointed to the floor. "Señora Porter called the policia."

  "Stay here." Tay sprinted down the corridor toward the front entrance, jostling Lucy Porter as she stepped out of her office. Dawna followed him, but stalled halfway down, her knee sending out agonizing bolts of pain.

  Where the heck was Tay going? An hour in the country and he's already chasing snipers, totally unarmed?

  He reached Ramos. They spoke briefly before disappearing into the front mantrap. The red light above the metal detector flashed as Tay dashed through it. Ramos followed a moment later. The red light flashed again.

  Dawna gritted her teeth.

  Ramos was armed. But the light had flashed its warning twice.

  Tay was also armed.

  When the system was masked, as it was now, there were no bells or whistles to alert an armed intruder. Just that quick indicator light and another one in the security room.

  Tay wouldn't chase a sniper unarmed. He was no fool. A betraying bastard who thought of his own career first -- oh, yes, he was one of them -- but he was no fool.

  She should have asked him if he had a weapon as soon as they'd met at the airport. Stupid of her. She'd been too wrapped up in all her idiotic emotions to think of such a basic question.

  That wouldn't happen again.

  Dawna didn't want to know the details of how he'd managed to travel through international airspace with a concealed firearm. She just didn't want an unchecked weapon in her embassy.

  She'd deal with him later. Let him run around chasing snipers. She had the building to secure and the ambassador to check on.

  Sirens echoed in the distance, closing in on them for the second time in a week. As she limped back to the rear mantrap on her way downstairs, she found herself facing Tay. He'd circled the building.

  "Did you see anyone?" she snapped, stepping away from him as soon as she regained her balance.

  Tay shook his head, turning to look out at Ramos who stood in the rear part of the large courtyard gesturing with typical Latin exuberance toward the adjacent building.

  "Everyone safe?" Tay asked.

  "Yes." Dawna grabbed his arm and lowered her voice. "Are you carrying a firearm?"

  Tay frowned. "Would it make a difference?"

  She threw down his arm in disgust. Her head throbbed, and she gingerly touched the swelling bump hidden under the hair above her ear. It felt warm and wet. Noticing Tay's steady look, she dropped her hand to her side and clenched her fingers to hide the blood she knew was there. She shifted back, turning her head slightly so he wouldn't notice the scrape. "Of course, it matters if you are carrying a weapon. I'm in charge of security here."

  "And I'm in charge of the investigation."

  "Bull. The policia out there are in charge. And this is my embassy." She shot a glance down the corridor to ensure they were alone. Then she glared back at Tay. His limpid, hazel eyes that could easily be her biggest weakness, now hardened as she gritted out, "Any breach of security in this embassy is my responsibility and you just breached that security, big time. You wrote the Standing Orders we follow. Does that give you the right to disobey them?"

  His mouth thinned. "Under certain circumstances."

  "Yeah," she muttered. "Under certain circumstances you can get away with a hell of a lot, can't you?"

  She pivoted, ignoring the fire in her injured knee. Her hot breath seethed through her clenched teeth. She had to get away from him, if only to count slowly to ten. One, two, three....

  After a few feet, she turned back. "From now on, you check your firearm at the door. It goes into the weapons' vault whenever you're in the building. And I'm going to make sure it's there, each and every time! Now, start a head count. I want to know exactly where and how everyone is."

  She turned, and when Marconi appeared at the top of the basement stairs, she barked out orders to lock down the building.

  Then, trying to avoid a limp, she stalked downstairs to the bunker to check on the Ambassador.

  Tay crushed the urge to stor
m after her and tell her once and for all he was above Standing Orders. He had a job to do and it didn't include following Dawna's regulations, regardless of how mad she got.

  But she was right, damn it. They needed to follow protocol, and check on the civilians. He stalked toward the front entrance and outside to see if any were trapped out there.

  He adjusted his weapon to ensure it stayed hidden, remembering the last time he'd seen Dawna angry. That unforgettable day after the unforgettable evening they'd spent together. She'd been called into the mock interrogation room, the one their unit used for training. She'd had to face her Commanding Officer.

  Tay had watched her from behind the two-way mirror, ordered there by the CO, who wanted him to confirm or deny her statement. Even now, he felt his face heat at the shared humiliation.

  Dawna had been spitting mad that day, but had managed to keep herself well-controlled.

  After she'd been reminded that fraternization with the staff was strictly forbidden and a severe reprimand would be placed on her file, she'd looked directly into the mirror.

  She'd known he was there. Be trail and hurt glared in her eyes.

  Tay dipped his head against the glare of the Bolivian sun. Without warning another, far older memory fought its way to the present. The same betrayal, another person.

  His mother.

  "You're never home, Nathan! You're married to your job, not to me. I've been betrayed by you and your police station!"

  Tay forced his head up and inhaled sharply. Hot air, tainted with exhaust fumes, filled his lungs as he shoved his mother's voice down where it wouldn't resurface.

  Slowly, he approached the police who'd been let into courtyard. This style of architecture sounded safe, with numerous fortified compounds patch-worked inside each city block, but he didn't like that the big, vehicular door needed opening constantly.

  "Señor Hastings," Ramos called, approaching him. Tay was surprised that the vigilante knew his name and seemed to have accepted his presence as a matter of course. "We have several eyewitnesses who saw a man run from the apartment building beside the embassy."

  Ramos indicated a small group of locals talking to a policeman, each of them pointing to the nearby apartments. "They saw a tall, thin man, with a white shirt and dark pants."

  Tay resisted the urge to roll his eyes. "That narrows it down. Half the male population in the city wears white shirts and dark pants."

  His eyes hidden behind sunglasses, Ramos shrugged. "No. This man was tall. Don't worry, señor." Ramos glanced around them. "We'll get the report from the policia."

  "I would prefer to handle the investigation myself."

  Ramos lifted his eyebrows. "Sergeant Atkinson is in charge of security," he hedged.

  Tay straightened. "Didn't she explain why I'm here?"

  "Si. To check the alarms and make sure we are following the regulations."

  And not here to investigate the attacks on the embassy. Tay sensed the unspoken words.

  So Dawna had earned the respect of her vigilantes. And in such a short period of time. Impressive. "I'm also here to ensure our investigation runs smoothly. And the best way is to run it myself."

  Again, Ramos' expression turned hooded. Then he answered, "You need not worry, señor. Sergeant Atkinson is very good at her job. She knows she can trust all the vigilantes to report everything to her."

  So why do I get the feeling you're hiding something, Tay wanted to ask. Instead, he nodded. "Good. I'll be expecting-"

  A small car roared up in what Tay realized was typical Bolivian fashion, that is, with little regard for safety.

  "The doctor," Ramos said with surprise in his voice.

  Tay lifted his eyebrows. A short, stocky and man alit and hauled out a small, black bag before setting the alarm on his car. He turned to Ramos and rattled off something.

  Ramos looked at Tay, his voice anxious. "The doctor has been called here. A woman is hurt inside. He says an injury from a fall?"

  Tay pivoted, his heart slamming against his ribs. Dawna! She'd touched a growing bruise on her head and nursed a limp when she'd stalked away from him. Damn! Why hadn't he said something? Done something?

  He bolted for the front door.

  "It's nothing, really, Ambassador," Dawna said as Tay skidded to a stop outside the ambassador's private office in the bunker. "I've bumped my head and scraped my knee before."

  Relieved to see Dawna upright and speaking, Tay blew out a long breath. It echoed around him.

  Although reinforced, the bunker was still recognizable as being the basement of an old school. Basements were rare outside of North America, and this one still bore signs of being chiseled out of the Andean bedrock.

  When he entered the room, she looked up from the chair in which she sat. The ambassador, wearing a blue latex glove, held a blood-stained cloth to her head and behind him, Lucy Porter wrung her hands in worry. The sight of Dawna's blood made something lodge in Tay's throat. He couldn't seem to clear his windpipe.

  Get a grip. He'd seen blood before. "Are you all right?"

  Dawna glanced up at him. "I'm fine. You were a little too enthusiastic when you shoved me to the ground, that's all. I'll live, though I'm not sure my outfit will." She flicked at her ripped pant leg, then made the hasty introductions.

  Someone pushed Tay aside. He was ready to slam the fool against the door jamb, but stopped when he recognized the doctor, escorted by Ramos. The ambassador spoke in smooth but urgent Spanish and the doctor nodded.

  "Relax," Dawna said, as if guessing Tay's thoughts. "This is Dr. Hernandez. The security agency sends him when we have a medical situation."

  The doctor was quick and efficient, speaking to her in broken English as he examined her head and applied some butterfly strips to the cut on her leg. When he was done, he tugged her tattered pant leg over his handiwork.

  Behind him, Lucy made a soft, sympathetic noise. Tay glanced up at her. With a face pinched with worry, she looked worse than Dawna. "Lucy, you'd better sit down. Should we have the doctor to look at you, too?"

  "I'm okay. Just too much excitement." Lucy kept staring with wide, desperate eyes at Dawna, who returned the look with a barely perceivable shake of her head. What was she trying to tell Lucy? Not to show any weakness?

  The doctor finished up his examination with an order to rest and be careful bathing her cut. He gave her a short list of symptoms to look out for.

  But already Dawna had straightened her clothes, effectively preparing to continue her work.

  She had no intention of being careful. Anger boiled in Tay. He gripped the door knob that he only just realized he was still clutching, in order to stop himself from yelling that he wasn't here to destroy her career.

  Regardless of how her unit had instructed him.

  "Ambassador?" he began through his clenched jaw. "I'd like to speak with Sergeant Atkinson privately for a moment."

  The ambassador looked down at Dawna, and she nodded with obvious reluctance. Her mouth pursed, she followed Tay into the corridor.

  "What?" Dawna asked after she shut the ambassador's office door.

  "You're going home to rest. Now."

  "Forget it!" Dawna straightened, smoothly and easily, as if she hadn't been hurt at all. She brushed imaginary dust from her suit, ignoring the rip at her knee.

  "Sergeant-" he began.

  She mimicked his formality. "Mr. Hastings." With arched eyebrows, she continued, "Look, Tay, I'm fine and I have no intention of going home to rest. Someone is trying to kill a member of this embassy, very likely the ambassador. Which means my place is here, doing the job you trained me to do."

  "I can handle things."

  She shot him a lethal look. For a moment, he expected a sharp retort of how poorly he'd handled things three years ago, but the reminder didn't come.

  Instead, flicking up her fingers in succession, she snapped, "I know the people here. I hired them. I coordinated with the security agency to get the best escoltas. I work with th
em every day and I know the city."

  "I can remove you from your post." Damn! Why did he say that? The threat was a trump card given to him by the MSGU because they wanted to see Dawna fail. In their eyes, she'd humiliated them. On the long flight down here, he'd decided he wouldn't play that card at all.

  Dawna froze. "Are you here to return me to my unit?" Hurt flickered bright in her eyes and her voice dropped to a whisper. "Are you that anxious to see me fail?"

  "No." No, he couldn't send her back to the MSGU with another black mark on her record. To punish her now for wanting to do her job was as wrong as when her unit's Commanding Officer punished her three years ago.

  She deserved a hell of a lot better treatment than that. In fact, he owed her an explanation of why it appeared he'd gone unpunished.

  The need to blurt out the truth hit him hard, but he caught the explanation before it reached his lips. If he explained the truth to her, he'd be selfish and a danger to the other undercover operatives whose lives depended on his silence.

  Instead, he reached out and touched her. A small compensation for never being allowed to tell her the truth. A short caress of soft, warm skin to rekindle the memories he'd carried all over the world for the last three years. And hadn't been able to recreate in any other woman.

  He brushed her chin with his rough-skinned thumb and her perfume strayed into his nostrils. It was sharp like fresh mint, as if a sensory appendage to her personality. "I'm only trying to protect you, Dawna."

  Her jaw tightened as she slapped away his hand. "You didn't protect me three years ago. Why should I expect it now? Besides, I don't need any protection."

  Then she shoved past him to head upstairs. For a moment he stood facing the wall. Then he turned, staring down the short, claustrophobic corridor. The door at the end of the bunker slammed shut behind her. Abruptly, an odd thought spiked through his frame.

  Had she locked him in?

  Relax, Hastings, she wouldn't. There were others in the bunker. Tay calmed himself with a deep breath as he stalked to the door and shoved it open. Relief washed over him. He wasn't trapped.