“What?” she squawked when they came nose to nose.
“Bloody h—” That’s all George managed before she opened her mouth in what he knew would be a banshee scream. Despite the spike of adrenaline that sliced through his system, or maybe because of it, he had one of the weapons Benton had secured for him out of his waistband and aimed at her face before he finished his curse. “Don’t think about it, love,” he warned, his heart thundering, the hair on top of his head standing straight.
Shit. Fuck. Bloody, bloody hell!
Her mouth clamped shut and she blinked at him. He could almost see her make the decision to turn and run. As soon as she spun, he was ready. Snaking an arm around her neck, he pressed the barrel of the handgun to her temple. “Easy,” he hissed, “and you might just live.”
They weren’t the same words he’d used with that fat airport crewman in Cusco, but it was the same lie. Another thing he’d learned working for Spider was that people became delusional when their lives were hanging in the balance. They would believe anything if it meant they could cling to a sliver of hope.
He panted as the fear in him grew. His mind clamored with a million thoughts. But the biggest one was…what now?
If he shot her, the bark of the weapon would bring those inside running. And he’d be a dead man. If he let her go, she would scurry inside and alert the others. They’d undoubtedly catch him before he could make his escape. And he’d be a dead man. If he continued to hold her hostage while digging around inside his hold-all for the transmitter, he could push the button and blow the place sky-high. But he was inside the blast radius. So he’d be a dead man.
No matter how he looked at it, he was a dead man.
He nearly cried out in anger, in fury, in hopelessness. So close. So bloody close. He was just about to settle for option number three when a thought occurred. And then he nearly cried out in triumph. He didn’t just have three options. He had four. He could drag her with him to the front gate and give the guard the choice between opening the gates or watching her die from a fatal dose of lead poisoning. The guard would undoubtedly decide to open the gates. And once George was through, then he could grab the transmitter and punch the button.
“Don’t say a word,” he hissed in the woman’s ear. “And come with me.”
He’d just started to pull her backward when Daniel Currington pushed through the back door. “Penni, when you asked for bottled water, I didn’t know if you wanted still or sparkling so I grabbed both and—” Daniel dropped the bottles when he saw George. The plastic containers bounced against the slate stones making weird splonking noises. “You!” Daniel roared.
Then and there, George saw his life flash before his eyes and a terrible certainty filled him. Sweet Bella, I’m so sorry…
* * *
Terror…
That was the only word to describe what Dan was feeling. Straight-up, no-holds-barred, do-not-pass-go terror. It filled him. Ate at him. Consumed him until there was nothing left but the rot. And a fury unlike anything he’d ever known.
Not again. Not fucking again!
He would have roared the words into the sky. Shaken a fist. He couldn’t lose another woman he loved to a thug’s bullet. Life couldn’t be that unfair. The God he wasn’t even sure he believed in couldn’t be that unfair. Fuck!
“I know you,” he ground out, trying to force calm into his voice when calm was the dead last thing he was feeling. “I recognize the hat. You were at the bar in the hotel in Cusco. You were watching us.”
The man said nothing as his eyes darted quickly right and left, his receding chin twitching side to side. Dan glanced into Penni’s wide, dark eyes and wanted to cry for the bone-chilling fear he saw in them, for the terrible flush that blazed in her cheeks, and for the wetness that clung to her lashes. He dipped his head once, trying to convey that everything would be okay. But he wasn’t sure he’d succeeded in convincing her. Probably because he wasn’t totally convinced.
This man, whoever he was, had trailed them all the way from South American to Chicago, and had the audacity to break into the BKI compound. Which meant he was more than willing to go to great lengths to achieve his goal. Whatever that might be… Dan didn’t dare give himself time to contemplate it.
When one lone tear spilled over Penni’s lid, slipping down her cheek and wetting the butterfly bandage there, a lump formed in his throat. And since his heart had already jumped there when he saw Hat Guy with a gun to Penni’s pretty head, it was getting quite crowded, making it impossible to breathe.
“Were you the one on the tarmac too?” he asked, taking a step forward.
“Stay bloody well back!” the man shouted, his English accent thickened by fear and adrenaline.