Her stomach tightened with fear. God, he’d gone absolutely insane. “You can’t do this, Hank. You’ll get Lana and yourself killed if you try to negotiate with these people on your own. We need to be smart here.”
“I am being smart. I’ve caused enough damage, Sarah.” Determination hardened his tone. “I got us into this mess, and I’m sure as hell going to get us out of it. I’ll be in touch, darling.”
“Hank—”
The telltale click in her ear told her he’d hung up. Sarah sank onto the edge of the bed, feeling as if she’d just had the wind knocked out of her. That stubborn jerk! Why couldn’t he make an intelligent decision for once in his sorry life?
Her hands shook wildly as she brought up the contact list on her cell phone. Enough was enough. She wasn’t letting Hank Kelley put his life, or their daughter’s, in danger. Not for a second longer.
A chipper voice answered the phone as she was connected with the military base. “Put me through to Colonel Keaton,” she demanded, her unsteady voice betraying her lack of confidence.
“Who may I tell him is calling?”
“Sarah Mistler Kelley.”
There was a tiny beat as the switchboard operator must have recognized the name, and then, “Right away, ma’am.”
Several seconds later, Keaton came on the line, barking out his name and rank.
Beating straight to the punch, Sarah introduced herself then said, “Colonel, I need you to get an urgent message to Captain Jim Kelley.”
As the days ticked by on Deacon’s mental calendar, he wondered if he’d ever be able to keep his promise to Lana. He hadn’t changed his mind, though. Not by a long shot. After that video-camera scene with Le Clair, along with the conversation he’d had with Echo and Tango, he was more convinced than ever that he needed to get Lana out of here. The only glitch was, Le Clair wasn’t going anywhere.
Back at the cabin, the boss had hopped the jet several times, leaving his men in charge. Deacon suspected he was meeting with whoever had hired him, and then, of course, there was the trip to Montana, where, according to Echo, the mercenary’s body had been dumped. With Le Clair breathing down their necks, Deacon was stuck. He’d already decided that he needed Le Clair gone in order to liberate Lana. He’d formulated a plan, gone over the details a hundred times, but he couldn’t execute it until Le Clair took one of his day trips. Which for the moment, didn’t seem to be happening.
There was a chill in the air as Deacon walked along the quiet sidewalk toward the apartment building. The men had been assigned to monitor the street in teams, to ensure the location remained secure. Tango walked a few yards away, on the other side of the road, looking very nondescript with his head buried in a newspaper. But like Deacon, Tango was on guard, watching the neighborhood for any sign of police presence. There was none, and Deacon wasn’t sure if he was relieved or annoyed as he headed into the lobby.
He almost wished the cops would come pounding on the door. He’d taken on risky jobs in the past, a couple of kidnappings involving shady CEOs, the killing of a South American rebel leader who’d been selling little girls in the sex trade. Not once had he felt an ounce of guilt during those missions. He’d felt no pity for the men he’d helped abduct, no remorse when he put a bullet in that rebel’s head.
But this job was different. Lana Kelley was a good person, right down to her core, and she didn’t deserve a single minute of what had happened to her. And Le Clair was just sitting around, constantly whispering into his cell phone, as if the big guns in charge didn’t know themselves what the next step would be.
Whatever it was, Deacon knew it wouldn’t bode well for Lana, and he was determined to do something to change that.
He might be a cold bastard, but he refused to let this woman die. He’d done a lot of things in his life, most of them less than pleasant, but the killing of an innocent? That was something he’d never been—and never wanted to be—a part of.
It didn’t help that Lana Kelley had completely gotten under his skin. Each moment he spent with her only heightened his respect for the fresh-faced beauty. He suspected she might be stronger than he’d ever be. Not to mention smart and kind and unbelievably forgiving. She should loathe him for his part in this, but she didn’t. She should shy away from his touch, but she didn’t.
He didn’t deserve that kind of trust, but maybe if he saved her…maybe if he made sure she survived this, he might find some sort of redemption.
When he entered the apartment, he heard activity in the back bedroom. Immediately his guard shot up. If Le Clair was doing anything to hurt Lana, he knew without a doubt that he would kill the bastard.