No Woman Left Behind: A Lexi Carmichael Mystery, Book Six Page 6

  “We have to think of something.”

  “I’m working on it.”

  “I want to see the video. All of it this time.”

  He shook his head. “Not yet.”

  He held up a hand when I started to argue. “There are many reasons for that, the most important being that I no longer have access to a copy right now. It’s being tightly controlled at CIA headquarters where multiple teams, including some of the best network and digital forensic teams in the nation, are pouring over it.”

  He stood and joined me on the bed, putting an arm around me. I leaned my head against his shoulder. “I’m working on getting you a transcript. That way you can focus on the message without being distracted or distressed by the images.”

  I nodded. “Okay.”

  He was right. I needed time to get emotionally prepared and I couldn’t do that if I kept imagining Elvis strapped to a chair. “I’m going to have to see the video soon.”

  “I know.” He kissed my hair. “We’ll figure something out, cara.”

  I’m not sure whether it was the biological byproduct of extreme stress or a desire to rid myself of the numbness in my mind and heart, but I slid out from beneath the covers and straddled Slash, wrapping my arms around his neck.

  He looked at me with a question in his eyes.

  I was emotionally and intellectually adrift, scared beyond anything I’d ever known. I was desperate to regain my focus, but first I needed the comfort and release I knew Slash could offer. Without a word, I kissed him. Fast, hard, needy.

  He hesitated, then kissed me back. His hands slid into my hair, his mouth slanting over mine. Before I knew it, my sweater and T-shirt were off and his hands were everywhere. I reached for his shirt when his hands closed over mine.

  His brown eyes shone with a predatory glow. But there was something else in them—concern. “Are you sure, cara?”

  I didn’t know what he was thinking, but I knew the physical and emotional connection we shared would give me both the steadiness and relief I sought.

  I lifted his hands to my lips and kissed them. “I’m sure. I’m not very good at expressing myself, but the truth is, before I met you, I didn’t understand the cost of solitude. Now that you’re here, I don’t have to pay that price anymore. I’m never alone with you. You...anchor me.”

  He took one of my hands and pressed it to his chest. “No, you’re not alone.”

  I cupped his face in my hands and lowered my head to his, letting my tongue taste the fullness of his mouth. He yanked me against him, rolling me over and pinning me to the bed. He crushed his mouth against mine, a heady onslaught of pleasure and torment. His body burned so hot beneath my roving fingers, it seemed fevered. Or maybe it was me. At this point, I wasn’t sure where I ended and he began.

  “Cara, I love you.”

  I opened my eyes. He watched me intently. How was it I’d never noticed how symmetrically perfect his features were? A mathematical masterpiece created by a random collision of genes and DNA.

  He loved me.

  Slash’s eyes burned with a fierce light. “You’re mine. Understood?”

  I acquiesced. There was no submission here, only a joining of like minds and a promise of more to come.

  “Understood.”

  Chapter Ten

  We stood side-by-side in the hotel room, getting dressed. Slash passed me while retrieving his jeans from the floor and leaned over to kiss my bare shoulder. I didn’t even shy away at the unexpected gesture. I was becoming less and less self-conscious around him.

  I fastened my bra, then tugged my T-shirt over my head. “What now?”

  He shoved his feet into a pair of black boots. “We have a meeting with Woodward in about an hour to review options and go over all the intelligence we’ve accumulated to this point.”

  “And until then?”

  “You go to your parents’ house. I need to figure out the best way to tell Basia about Xavier.”

  “I should be the one to tell her about Xavier.”

  “We both know she’ll call you soon enough. Let me take first crack at it. I can give her the facts and fill her in on Xavier’s condition minus the highly charged emotional component that will likely be present between the two of you. You’re going to have your hands full with your parents for the next forty minutes anyway.”

  I wanted to argue, but he was right. My parents would be out of their minds with worry and I was the only one who could handle them.

  “Fine.” Sighing, I pulled on my jeans and laced up my tennis shoes. “I guess I’d better tell Bonnie, too, unless someone else already has.”

  Slash shrugged. “I think that’s doubtful at this point. She’d probably appreciate hearing it from you.”

  I sat next to him on the bed and he gave me a kiss on the cheek. I liked that—his spontaneous show of affection.

  “You better?” he asked.

  “Yes.” I paused for a moment. “It was more than the sex. You know that, right?”

  “I know.”

  Impulsively, I pressed a cool hand against his cheek. “You’re a pretty good guy.”

  He captured my hand, brought it to his lips and turned it over, pressing a lingering kiss to the inside of my wrist. “You’re not so bad yourself.”

  He stood, reaching into his jacket pocket and pulling out a half-eaten power bar. “Want a bite?”

  “Ugh. No thanks.”

  “Such disdain from a girl who eats processed peanut butter crackers from the vending machine.”

  I gave him a small smile. “I figure if I keep offering them to you, one day you’ll learn to appreciate the processed goodness.”

  He looked so appalled, I laughed. “Don’t worry. I’ll catch something to eat at my parents’.”

  “An even better idea. Let’s go.”

  We grabbed our coats and drove to my parents’ house. I checked the house as we pulled up out front. The bay window had already been boarded up. The February wind was cold as I exited the car and I shivered, pulling my coat tighter as we walked up the sidewalk. Two policemen were standing guard at the front door. Slash and I stopped to chat with them. I learned there were more two more officers around the back and felt better for knowing it.

  Slash gave me a quick kiss on the porch, then left.

  I went into the house alone and found my family in the living room. Rock and Beau pounced on me immediately, asking questions, but my mom shooed them away. She ushered me to the couch, where I sat sipping a hot cup of tea and giving them a diluted version of everything I knew to this point.

  My mom covered her mouth when I explained how the gunman was shooting at me. “Someone wanted to kill you?”

  “Not exactly. He never intended to hit me. It was supposed to be some kind of threat or warning.”

  “A warning? What the hell?” My brother Rock slammed his fist against the table. “Let me get this straight. This South African psychopath, Johannes Broodryk, hired a trained assassin named Abri Pentz to shoot, but not hit you, and then kidnapped one of your friends?”

  “Not just any friend,” I corrected. “Elvis was with me in the school when it all went down. He was as instrumental as I was in putting a stop to that operation. Broodryk kidnapped Elvis first and is now trying to engage me.”

  “Engage you? Why? What exactly does this nut job want?” Beau asked.

  I wrapped my fingers around my teacup. “I don’t know what game he’s playing yet.”

  My dad shot up from his chair. “This is some kind of game?”

  My mom started crying, so I scooted closer to her on the couch and put an arm around her. “Mom, it’s okay. Really. Please don’t cry.”

  She swiped at her eyes. “If only you would have taken those ballet lessons when I begged you.”

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sp; I smiled a little at that. “Sure, Mom. Go ahead and pull the guilt card on me now. Yes, Dad, this whole situation is some kind of a game to Broodryk. He wants me to play.”

  My dad frowned. “You will not.”

  “Agreed,” said Beau.

  “We’re all in agreement on that.” Rock snatched his laptop and opened it. “We will not sit around here and do nothing. We have to research this guy. Figure out where he is, what he might do next.”

  At that moment, I had never loved my family so much. Their support, love and indignation meant more than I could ever express. Despite our—okay, mostly my—eccentricities, we were a family, a united front. Team Carmichael. Why hadn’t I ever appreciated it properly before?

  “Knock yourself out, Rock,” I said. “But the best minds in the international community are already on it. They are piecing together his activities, and the movements of the shooter, over the past sixty-two hours or so. Still, I’ve learned never to underestimate the prowess of an investigative reporter, especially when he works at the Post and is my brother.”

  “Damn right.”

  My dad stretched out a hand to me. I looked at it and then put my hand in his. He pulled me to my feet and into a bear hug. I wrapped my arms around him and tried not to cry. I didn’t want to worry my parents more than they already were. We were all at the breaking point.

  “Okay, what next, pumpkin?” he asked, his face against my hair. “What do we do?”

  “I don’t know. I have to meet with the agents in less than an hour. Slash is coming to get me. This time, I have to actually watch the video. Broodryk’s message is for me. There may be something he says or does that only I will understand. Earlier today, I wasn’t prepared to see the video. Now that I am, I have to figure out the best way to help Elvis. Falling apart won’t solve anything.”

  “We’re here to help. Just tell us what to do.” My dad hugged me tighter.

  I felt a lump in my throat. “I don’t know yet, Dad. Just be careful. All of you. Slash told me everyone will have a security detail until we get a handle on this.”

  “Agent Woodward urged us to take off a few days and stay together here at the house,” Rock said. “I’ve been told I have to sit on the story until further notice. National security and all that crap.”

  “It’s a good idea. We can’t risk him doing anything more to Elvis in retribution.”

  “Well, I’m not just going to sit around doing nothing,” Beau said. “I’m a law enforcement officer. I don’t subscribe to running scared of criminals nor of sitting around doing nothing.”

  “You’re not being idle. Help Rock research. I’ll be reviewing the video and the intelligence on the whereabouts of both Broodryk and Pentz shortly. We all can do something.”

  “What’s Slash doing?” my dad asked. “Where is he right now?”

  “He’s talking to Basia for me because I needed to come here to see you first. I’m glad I did. But I still need to call, uh, Elvis’s girlfriend.” The words stuck in my throat. “Then I have to see the video. It may help us pinpoint Broodryk’s general location if we get lucky.”

  “And if we don’t?” Beau asked.

  “Then the ball is in Broodryk’s court.”

  Chapter Eleven

  The call came sooner than I expected. Not thirty seconds after I hung up from talking with Bonnie, Basia called me.

  “Slash said Xavier is in critical condition. He said I can’t go to see him in Greece.”

  I hated the way her voice shook as if she were barely holding it together. I wondered how I sounded. I sat down at my parents’ kitchen counter and looked out the window at the gray sky.

  “I’m sorry, Basia. Slash is right. It’s not safe. But Xavier is receiving the very best care possible. Slash has hired some Italian medical specialists to fly out there and consult. They’ll report back. Xavier is safely under guard and receiving excellent services. You’re fortunate you weren’t there during the attack.”

  She spoke in barely a whisper. “Do we know what happened?”

  “No. Xavier hasn’t regained consciousness. He needs time to heal. He probably tried to fight back or help Elvis when they came for him. He’s lucky to be alive.”

  “What are you going to do?”

  “I’m going to figure out a way to save Elvis. I have to start with the video. I couldn’t...” My voice caught and I cleared my throat. “I haven’t been able to watch it yet.”

  “He’s going to kill Elvis, isn’t he?”

  Anxiety shot through me. “I can’t even begin to think about that.”

  She started to cry. “Why is that horrible man doing this?”

  I knew why. Payback. Revenge. Retribution.

  “I’m going to think of something. Okay? I promise. Don’t worry about Xavier and Elvis. They’re both smart and strong. Xavier will pull through and come home to you. Elvis will hang on. We have to believe that.”

  “God, how can you do this? How can you be so focused and calm?”

  “I’m holding it together the best I can. You have to be strong, too. Show up for work, keep engaged and do the best you can. We have to stay resilient for them.”

  “Oh, God. Oh, God.” She cried harder. “How are you able to think?”

  I closed my eyes. “Okay, I’ll tell you the truth. When I saw Elvis on that video a while ago, I totally lost it. But I’m done with that. I’ve got to get my head in the game.”

  “I don’t know how to do this, Lexi. I’m too scared to think clearly.”

  “We rely on each other. That’s how we do it. We’ll make it if we stand together.” I suddenly realized what a significant statement that was, coming from a loner like me.

  “I’m glad you have Slash there to help you.”

  “Me, too.”

  We talked for another minute and I hung up. I lay my head on the counter. I wasn’t sure I could speak to one more person about the situation. In fact, I was done talking. I had to pull myself together and do something.

  I lifted my head when I heard a footstep. Slash stepped into my parent’s kitchen, carrying his briefcase. I guess the officer outside had let him in.

  “Basia?” he asked, motioning to the cell phone still in my hand.

  I nodded and set it down. “I spoke to Bonnie before that. I’m totally wiped.”

  He walked over and rubbed my back. “It’s hard. They look to you to make things right.”

  “It’s a lot of pressure.”

  “Si. But remember we’re in this together, okay? You aren’t carrying this alone.”

  “Thanks, Slash. I needed to hear that.”

  He’d found time to shower, shave and change into blue jeans and a black sweater. His face was drawn and his eyes looked tired, but other than that, he didn’t seem any worse for wear. I’m sure I looked like death warmed over. Twice.

  He put down his briefcase and held me in a long hug. “How’d it go with your parents?” He rested his chin on top of my head.

  “As well as can be expected, considering I told them one of the world’s top assassins was taking a potshot at me on behalf of a crazed cyber terrorist and one of my best friends had been kidnapped.”

  “No easy way to explain something like that.” He touched my cheek. “You ready for this?”

  “No. I don’t think I could ever be ready for what I’m about to see. But I’m going to do it anyway.”

  “I hope this will help.”

  He returned to his briefcase, punched in a code and popped it open. He took some papers right off the top and handed them to me.

  “It’s a transcript of the video. Word for word. I thought it might help.”

  “It will. Thanks. I’ll read it on the way.”

  He drove in silence as I read the transcript, once, twice and then t
hree times. My stomach heaved, but I kept control. I was grateful Slash didn’t interrupt or ask questions because I needed time to process.

  Slash pulled up to the guard gate at the underground garage. We completed the same security song and dance we’d done before, finally taking the elevator to the ninth floor. Everyone in the conference room fell quiet as soon as we entered. All seats at the conference table were taken except for two. I counted at least seven others standing. A large SMART board stood in the corner with what appeared to be the video cued and ready to go. I was the only woman.

  Looking around the table, I recognized one of the FBI agents from the cybercrimes unit. He’d debriefed me in the hospital after the school incident. The two open seats were at the head of the table next to Dex Woodward and across from a guy in full military uniform. Slash and I were ushered to the two open chairs and instructed to sit.

  The table groaned under an impressive array of expensive tech equipment. I recognized most of it, but there were items even I hadn’t seen before. Elvis would have known what they were. I wanted to ask about them, but Woodward was in a hurry to get started.

  “How are you, Ms. Carmichael?”

  I looked around. Everyone was staring at me.

  I cleared my throat. “I’ve been better. But I’m okay for now.”

  “Good. We need to get started. I don’t need to tell you that time is of the essence. If we want to keep the hostage alive—”

  “His name is Elvis. Elvis Zimmerman.”

  Woodward dipped his head. “Of course. If we want to keep Elvis Zimmerman alive, we need to act immediately. Our first concern is figuring out what Broodryk wants us to do next.”

  I swallowed hard. “I don’t think he wants you to do anything. This is about me.”

  “Which is exactly why we need your thoughts on the video. You’re the only person we know who has had direct contact with Broodryk. You not only saw him, but you interacted with him. Recently. That’s important.”