Mission Of Desire Part 13

"Dad, tell Nicole what you started to tell me last night," Danielle urged once they were seated in a booth inside the airport restaurant and the waitress had taken their drink order. "The whole story."

Nicole watched the colonel take a sip from his gla.s.s of ice water. She braced herself, suspecting she was in for yet another wild ride. The colonel leaned forward, the lines in his forehead above his s.h.a.ggy gray brows deep and ruddy from the Florida sun. His nose wasn't big, but its ball-shaped tip was ravaged by broken capillaries.

"Luke, your father, and I met at a bar in Madrid back in the late eighties," he began. "Two Americans in a foreign country who got to talking and discovered their lives were quite similar, with two little girls almost the same age. We'd meet up every six months or so, either in DC or abroad. Over the years, we developed quite a good friendship. Luke first introduced himself as an engineer for a petroleum company. As time pa.s.sed and his trust in me grew, he confided that he was also doing some undercover work for the government."

Nicole was silent, but she was certain her eyes revealed her astonishment.

"He didn't tell me much other than it wasn't dangerous." The waitress returned with their drinks. Nicole ordered a cheeseburger well done and reached for her Diet c.o.ke the way an alcoholic does vodka. She was hoping the caffeine and carbonation would curb the headache that was waiting to pounce.

"We got to talking that night." The colonel continued telling his story, but not without casting a scrutinizing eye at the occupants of neighboring tables every few minutes. "He said he was paid rather well for his services, but he had to hide the extra income from his wife. He didn't want her worrying about him."

Nicole flinched. That sounded like her father.

"He told me about an intricate arrangement he'd worked out with the agency that employed him. Rather than receiving a paycheck for his efforts, he'd asked that they purchase stocks in a certain company on his behalf. I don't know all the details, maybe he told me, I can't remember, but two years into it, he said he was ready to quit both his job with the petroleum company as well as the agency. He was tired of the travel and wanted to be home with his wife and children. A year or so pa.s.sed before I heard from him again, and when I did, I was scared for the guy. He was gaunt and thin, nervous. I thought he might be on drugs."

Nicole remembered Mr. Thomas had said the same thing.

"When I confronted him, he laughed and said he wished his problem were one as simple as chemical dependency. He reluctantly explained that he'd uncovered something big involving the sale of the military's weapons to anti-American radicals. The fraud was ma.s.sive in scope." He lowered his voice. "He feared it might be an internal operation. He didn't get too much into it, which was probably for my own protection, but he did mention that he'd discussed it with his go-to at the agency. They were going to meet in Yemen the following afternoon." He took another drink of water.

"A week later, I'd read that Luke had been killed by a car bomb. I thought, hoped, it might be just a coincidence. Car bombs are an everyday occurrence over there. Maybe a month after the car bomb, I was ambushed by two brutes at a hotel in Syria. They beat me up pretty good, took out all my teeth...one at a time. These are dentures." He pointed a finger with a well-bitten nail toward the pink flesh of his gum line. "They asked me all about Luke-where'd he hide the stocks-what did I know about an investigation he was working on, and so on. I didn't know anything so there was nothing for me to say. I was in bad shape." He ma.s.saged a knuckle into his temple, as if reliving the experience, the pain and fear. "They left me there, in a stairway, bruised and b.l.o.o.d.y. I never told anyone and never would have if Danielle hadn't called me and told me what they'd forced her into."

The food arrived and for a few minutes they were busy with the task of unwrapping their silverware from sealed paper napkins and salting their fries. The mood was solemn. No one seemed to have much of an appet.i.te. Nicole lost hers as soon as her eyes fell upon Rhyse Taylor and it hadn't come back. She took a few bites of her burger, then glanced at her watch. It was close to one o'clock in the afternoon. She needed to check on her mother.

"Excuse me," she said, getting up from the table. "I have to use the restroom."

"Danielle, go with her," the colonel grumbled, a mouthful of food balled against the side of one cheek. "We can't take any risks. They may be watching, waiting for their chance to grab her again."

"No, I'll be okay. Really," she added firmly when she saw Danielle start to rise.

It took a moment for Nicole's eyes to adjust from the restaurant's dim mood lighting to the brightness of the main concourse. Once they did, she spied a shadowed nook harboring a row of seats with Internet portals. She glanced back to ensure no one had followed her, then pulled the disposable cell from her bag and dialed her mother's number before she'd even disappeared behind a concealing pillar.

"She's not there."

Nicole didn't need to lift her eyes from the phone to know who was standing behind her. Every nerve ending in her body was tingling with electricity. The muscles that ran down the backs of her legs felt weak and her heart was racing. There was only one person on earth who could make her body react this way.

Kira.

Chapter Twenty-one.

Nicole turned. High heels and sleek straight-leg sharkskin striped pants with a matching jacket, blond hair pinned into an elegant chignon at the back of her head, and a rolling carry-on suitcase sitting at the heels of her pointed pumps-Kira looked every inch the professional career woman strolling through the airport on business travel. If she'd expected to blend in with the ma.s.ses, she'd made a grave miscalculation. The simple line of her slacks accentuated the perfect shape of the faultless body within them, and the prim hairstyle pulled back from her face only accentuated the perfect bone structure and the beautiful eyes.

Their eyes met. With a shiver of vivid recollection, every detail of their last encounter filled Nicole's head, making rational thought impossible. She remembered the weight and feel of Kira's naked b.r.e.a.s.t.s brushing up against her own; the taste of her mouth; the gentle, seductive caress of Kira's fingers gliding along her inner thighs before skillfully dipping between her legs.

White-hot liquid heat seemed to flow from some region in Nicole's lower stomach to spread like wildfire across her loins. She fought for control but both her mind and body were refusing to cooperate. Part of her yearned to reach out and pull Kira into her arms. She fought the desire, the need, and pushed it to the back of her mind by reminding herself that this woman had placed her mother in danger.

"Where's my mother? Where have you taken her?"

"Calm down, your mother is safe, but if you don't do as I say, things may not end up well."

"If you lay one finger on her, I'll-"

"Not here. Put the phone away and go to the ladies' room. It's just beyond the American Airlines ticket counter, on the left."

"Where's my mother?" She crossed her arms, still holding the phone.

"Still as stubborn as ever." Kira rolled her blue eyes. "Go to the ladies' room, Nicole," she went on in a harsh whisper, glancing at the lone traveler seated at the end of the tables trying to connect to the Internet. "Danielle is bound to come looking for you. If she finds us here together, this entire operation will be blown!"

"You're sticking with that same bulls.h.i.t story you've been feeding me for the past week?"

Kira raised an eyebrow. "You do want to see your mother again, don't you, Nicole? Then go to the ladies' room!" Kira was clearly growing more agitated with each pa.s.sing second. "Now!"

With no other choice, Nicole walked to the ladies' room but discovered it was blocked off by two orange safety cones and a sign that read Closed for Cleaning. An airport janitor stood outside the door, a bucket of dirty water on wheels at his side and a wet mop in his hands. Nicole felt herself starting to panic. Maybe Kira had meant another ladies' room?

"The ladies' room is open...for you." The janitor's baritone voice was deep and familiar. It took a moment for her to realize it was Bogie dressed in gray coveralls. He inclined his bald head in greeting, then pushed the door slightly ajar so she could go inside.

The restroom appeared vacant, but she checked each stall just to be certain Stella wasn't hiding in preparation for another kidnapping attempt. At the last stall, her heart finally slowed to an almost normal beat and the fog encircling her brain gradually cleared. She tapped her foot angrily. Had she fallen for another one of Kira's tricks? She'd just voluntarily isolated herself in a restroom with no chance of escape, not with Bogie guarding the door.

"When are you doing to learn to trust me, Nicole?"

She whirled around.

Kira was washing her hands at one of the sinks and watching her by way of the reflection in the commercial-sized mirror.

"Where's my mother?" Nicole covered the short distance between them in three long strides. "What have you done to her?"

"Saved her," Kira stated in her maddeningly nonchalant manner as she pulled a paper towel from the stainless steel dispenser bolted to the wall and casually dried her hands. "I warned you Danielle was up to no good, but you just wouldn't listen."

"You haven't answered me. Where's my mother?"

"Right about now," Kira checked the diamond-encrusted silver watch encircling her slender wrist, then tossed the used paper towel into the garbage, "she's probably having lunch with the distinguished senator from Virginia and his wife. I said she was safe, Nicole." There was a curious longing in Kira's blue eyes as she turned to face her. "Why do you continue to doubt everything I tell you?"

"You're kidding, right? Should I start from the moment we met? Everything about you has been a lie."

"That's not entirely true. Okay, yes, we fabricated the attack on the bus in Muranga and, yes, lied about the threat to the village you were a.s.signed to teach. Simple psychological tactics I initially employed to gain your trust and cooperation. You were alone in a strange country and I needed to take advantage of the situation. When people are frightened or in shock, it's easier to obtain the truth. At that point, I didn't know how you were involved in all of this. But," her tone grew softer, "I've been honest with you ever since."

"Honest? As in telling me my mother is safe? If she is, why not let me talk to her?"

Kira pulled a tiny cell phone from her pocket and pressed a b.u.t.ton.

"Nicole wants to speak with her mother," she said. "You don't believe me? Here. Talk to her yourself."

Nicole grabbed the phone. "Mom? Mom, are you there? Are you okay?"

"h.e.l.lo, dear, of course I'm okay. In fact, I'm marvelous," Nicole heard her mother declare in the high-pitched, melodious voice she only used when she was trying to impress someone or had imbibed one too many c.o.c.ktails. The last time Nicole could remember her mother adopting the tone was when they'd run into the wife of one of the executives from her father's petroleum company at the mall. The affectation in her dialect was usually accompanied by a sudden change in posture and bearing, as if her body had suddenly become possessed by the spirit of a pampered Southerner.

"I just cannot tell you what a delightful time I've had today, and it's all thanks to you. First, the personal tour of the White House and now this elaborate luncheon. You should see the table setting! I wish you were here, Nicole, there's a handsome young gentleman, the senator's nephew, and he is so polite and courteous. Excellent husband material," she revealed in a hushed overtone. "By the way, did you know your car was towed? Someone left a message yesterday from an impound lot. Oh-I have to go, they're serving the first course and I don't want them to think me rude. Good-bye!"

Nicole was thunderstruck. She leaned her weight against one of the sinks and lowered her head into her hands. "What's going on? How is it my mother is having lunch with a senator?"

"There's not enough time to explain." Kira plucked the phone from Nicole's limp fingers. "Suffice it say that your mother was going to be used in a scheme to extort your father's stocks from you. Yes, I've known about the stocks for some time now," she said when she saw the look of surprise on Nicole's face. "But we were hoping you'd found something much more valuable to us inside that safe deposit box. Anyway, we had to get your mother before they did. Although I don't believe they would have physically hurt her, you and I both know the mental stress of being taken from her home by armed men in the middle of the night might have sent your mother over the edge for once and for all."

"Who would dare do such a horrible thing? And why?"

"The stocks are worth a bundle. The two men tasked with abducting your mother are already in custody, but they're little more than hired hands. As far as who would dare do such a thing? It's only the two sitting at the restaurant awaiting your return that need be of any concern to us at this moment."

"Danielle?" Nicole was incredulous. "Are you sure?"

Danielle had appeared so convincing. But then again, so did Kira. In fact, Nicole had yet to see something absolute that would confirm that she was on the law's side as she continually proclaimed to be. No badge, no government-issued windbreaker with the letters of her agency emblazoned upon its back with bright gold letters, and certainly no supportive sidekicks from the local police milling about in the background.

But somehow she'd arranged the luncheon for her mother.

Kira glanced down at her watch. "We've no more time for discussion. Pull up your shirt."

Nicole's jaw dropped.

Kira laughed at the look on her face. "As much as I'd like to see you naked again, this isn't the time or the place. I need to fasten a piece of surveillance equipment to you."

Kira lifted her suitcase, placed it on the countertop, and unzipped it. She withdrew a tiny device no bigger than a jeans b.u.t.ton and as flat as a credit card from inside. Five inches of black wire dangled from it.

"This is an audio and video recorder. We'll be able to monitor and record everything they say to you. Bogie will always be within transmitting distance, but I warn you now, Nicole, this might become dangerous. I'll do my best to make sure nothing happens to you, but you need to know what you're getting yourself into if you agree to wear this."

"Of course," Nicole replied, her head still spinning. "What about my father? Rhyse Taylor said he'd been working undercover. If that's true, it means he wasn't a criminal, right?"

"I'll fill you in on all of that later, when we have more time. Right now, we have to hurry," she said, turning back to the gear inside her suitcase. "You've already been gone five minutes. If we delay much longer, they'll grow suspicious. And we don't want that, Nicole, believe me."

Nicole watched as Kira methodically took a pair of scissors to a roll of flesh-colored tape. She then grabbed a hand-sized tool that looked like a hole-puncher to cut a tiny segment of fabric from her shirt just under the crew-neck collar.

"Can you move your necklace?"

Nicole pulled the silver chain so that its length hung across her left shoulder.

"It cuts clean, no tearing or fraying of the fabric, so that the hole is invisible to the eye," Kira explained, her hands softly brushing against the skin of Nicole's sternum while adjusting the camera lens to align with the hole, then taping it to the shirt.

"The camera is flimsy but it does the trick. The microphone is more important anyway, but sometimes noises get confusing, so it's better if we can watch what is going on as well."

They were standing close to one another, almost as close as they'd been as lovers, but now Kira was all business.

It disappointed Nicole just a little bit that Kira seemed so unaffected by their proximity.

"It's Danielle's T-shirt anyway, so cut away."

This comment garnered a raised brow from Kira.

"I asked her to bring me a clean shirt," Nicole explained. Standing so close to Kira was pushing Nicole's willpower to the breaking point. Kira seemed impervious, though, and not the least bit jealous about how she came to be wearing Danielle's shirt.

"So how'd you manage to escape from the handcuffs?" she asked, somehow managing to keep her voice steady. How could someone have such an incredible effect on her? In the middle of an airport restroom, no less?

Kira lifted her eyes from her task, a faint glint of humor on her face. "Lucky for you, I had an extra key. Otherwise, who knows what might have happened to you today? I'm sure you will be pleased to know it still caused me a lot of discomfort. Shevchenko is the one who had that key."

Nicole pictured the scene: the Ice Princess nude and vulnerable, most likely seething; Stella, amused but respectfully deferential as she released Kira.

"Here." Kira pulled a slim, oblong piece of black plastic that looked like a ballpoint pen from the suitcase when she was finished. "It's a stun gun. Press the b.u.t.ton at the top and the bottom will emit 100,000 volts of electricity. It has to make contact with skin to work."

"Why would I need that?" Nicole looked at it distastefully.

"Chances are you won't. We'll be watching and listening the entire time via the camera and mic, but sometimes things don't go as planned."

Nicole sighed, placing the pen in the pocket of her linen pants. She felt suddenly like the weight of the world was on her shoulders. "I don't know if I can do this."

"Relax." Kira patted her on the back platonically-too platonically for Nicole. She wanted something more than that. "You're doing a great job. Far better than any of us would have ever believed for someone just off the street and untrained. You're a natural, Nicole. Now listen carefully. Danielle will take you to the bank to get the stocks. When you return-"

"How do you know this? And why would I go with her? And why do I need a stun gun?"

"They want the stocks more than anything. They'll come up with some reason and Danielle will take you to the bank. Their plan is that when you return with the stocks in hand, the two guys that we have in custody now would run her car off the road. They would jump out of the car flashing weapons and demand the stocks in exchange for your mother, whom they would have tied up in their backseat." Her blue eyes kept darting to the tiny hole above the shirt's Old Navy graphics, studying the placement of the lens to ensure it wasn't noticeable. "All the while, Danielle acts the innocent. But when the plan goes awry, she might react violently, so I'd feel better if you had something on you to defend yourself with."

"How do you know all this?" Nicole shook her head, trying to get it all straight in her head.

"Did I mention I work for the United States government?" Kira smiled.

"I believe I heard you mention that once or twice." Nicole managed a wan smile, adding in her head, but you've never offered any proof. "Danielle told me a woman claiming to belong to the government forced her hand, blackmailed her," she added, somewhat reluctantly. There was still a tiny nugget of uncertainty about Kira's role in all of this lingering in the back of her brain. Please convince me.

Kira leaned closer, gently cradling Nicole's chin in her hand. "Answers will have to wait, Nicole. Our time now is at an end. Can you trust me," she asked in an unbearably tender voice, "just this once?"

Nicole felt desire mixed with love race through every vein in her body. She felt weak, unable to even nod in acquiescence.

"I'll try," she whispered.

Chapter Twenty-two.

Nicole walked through the airport on shaky legs, her palms sweaty. She tried to concentrate, but her nerves were playing havoc with her train of thought. She imagined she could hear the Mission Impossible theme music playing as she made her way through the concourse.

"Focus!" she berated herself as she almost tumbled over a wheeled golf bag carrier an Asian teenager was towing behind him as he hurried toward one of the electronic check-in kiosks scattered throughout the terminal. The cold feel of the plastic taped to her chest felt alien. It chafed against her skin as she moved. She glanced down, looking for the hole. Was it visible? How sensitive was it? Could Bogie hear her heart pounding?