“What kinds of weapons are you talking about?”
“We believe the weapons being tested at Bitterroot are a new generation of chemical weapons. Poisonous gases contained in a vial the size of a pencil eraser but capable of killing hundreds in a mat ter of minutes. We don’t know how long it will be before these weapons are fully tested and operational. But you know what could happen if something that deadly fell into the wrong hands.”
“If some of the inmates are being killed, what happens to the bodies?”
“Cremation.”
Emily wanted desperately to believe he was lying. That he’d made up a fantastic story in order to gain her cooperation. But too much of what he’d told her explained what she’d already suspected.
All she had to do now was figure out what she was going to do about it.
Chapter Six
Zack had never been good at waiting, and riding out the storm was no exception. He cursed the snow as he paced the length of the room for the umpteenth time. Outside the wind continued to rage, battering the old lodge with powerful gusts that shook the walls. A few feet away Emily sat on the bench with her arms wrapped around herself, staring into the fire.
He hadn’t liked seeing her go pale when he’d told her what he had discovered about Lockdown, Inc. But her reaction told him two very important things. One, that she believed him. And two, that she wasn’t involved. He didn’t want to examine too carefully why both of those things pleased him so profoundly.
“What happens next?”
Zack stopped pacing and came over to her side. She looked fragile and feminine sitting on the bench with her chin on her hand, watching him with those cautious whiskey eyes. But while she might be the epitome of feminine beauty, he knew there was nothing fragile about her. What he couldn’t explain was why he felt so compelled to protect her. Judging from his track record, Zack figured he was the last man for the job.
“We wait the storm out,” he said.
“If what you’re saying is true, aren’t the people from your agency out looking for us?” she asked impatiently.
“I don’t know.”
“What do you mean you don’t know?”
“I mean there could be a problem.”
“What kind of problem?”
Zack said nothing. He didn’t quite know how to tell her he couldn’t trust the people inside his own agency. He didn’t want to believe it himself. But the facts didn’t lie.
“Look,” she began, “when the visibility improves, this mountain is going to be crawling with men on snowmobiles and skis, not to mention choppers.”
“I know,” he said. “Damn it.”
“So what’s your plan?” she asked.
Zack felt like a fool for not having one. But then, he’d assumed he would be able to count on the agency to bail him out if he got into trouble. “I need to get to a phone,” he said.
“That’s your brilliant plan?” Her laugh grated on his nerves like fingernails scraping down a chalk-board. “I hate to break the news to you, Mr. Secret Agent, but there isn’t a phone around for miles.”
Temper simmering, he turned to her. “There has to be a ranch or ranger station or something,” he said.
“If you’re really an agent for some obscure government agency, why can’t you call the people you work for?”
Zack hadn’t wanted to tell her about the mole. The less she knew about his mission and the agency, the better off she’d be. But thanks to him, she was in this as deep as he was. She deserved to know how serious the situation was because he was starting to wonder if they were going to get out of this alive.
“I think someone at the agency blew my cover,” he said hesitantly.
“You mean someone sold you out?”
“It’s the only way the people at Lockdown could have found out my identity.”
“My God.” Her gaze searched his. “Where does that leave us?”
He shook his head, angry that he was in this situation but even angrier because he hadn’t seen it coming. “On our own for now.”
She took a moment to mull that over. “You mentioned earlier that there are other agents working undercover. Is it possible they’re the ones who—”
“No,” he said shortly. There was no way fellow agents Kendra Michaels or Jake Vanderpol would have sold him out. He’d known both of them for almost five years. They were two of the best operatives he’d ever known. Good people who would risk their own lives to save a fellow agent.
But Zack knew that if Marcus Underwood was demented enough to test chemical weapons on inmates, he was cruel enough to torture an agent for information. If he’d gotten to Kendra or Jake…
Torture was every agent’s worst nightmare. Even though the agents at MIDNIGHT had been trained to endure it, everyone had a breaking point. The thought made him break out in a cold sweat.