[ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]
out of the corner of her eye.
You re a nervous passenger.
Not usually.
I don t think I believe that.
Let s just say that I think Kyle s reflexes are better than yours.
She lifted her chin to acknowledge his point.
I don t have a single favorite author, she said abruptly.
Really? No author that stands out? He didn t comment on the extended length
between question and answer. Wise of him.
Lots of authors stand out, that s why I don t have a single favorite. I have lots of
favorites. Depends on what kind of book I want to read, what my mood is, which of the
author s books I m reading.
Give me an example.
Okay. Sometimes I m really in the mood for a thriller. But do I choose romantic
suspense? Maybe Nora Roberts. Or just straight suspense, with a good bit of gore and
psycho freaks? Then I might go for James Patterson or Thomas Harris. Or maybe
something with a sci-fi edge, like William Gibson? Or maybe I don t want a thriller, I
want a romance. But even there, you have historicals, paranormals, fantasy,
contemporary, all kinds of things.
I see what you mean. What about music?
Same thing. She gestured to the iPod sitting in the console between them. I have
music for every mood and genre. You re welcome to look.
I have no idea how to use one of those.
She gaped at him. He cleared his throat and looked pointedly at the road.
Snapping her eyes back to the road, she closed her mouth. Seriously?
I ve never had much interest in having one. I d rather be aware of my
surroundings.
Well, that made sense. Probably not a good plan to have the security guys paying
more attention to Theory of a Deadman than to the job at hand. She did wonder though&
What kind of music do you like?
Julian shrugged. Whatever. I ll listen to pretty much anything that s on, I m not
picky.
Maddy shook her head in wonder. I can t imagine that. I love music.
She thought she saw the corner of his mouth curve up, but couldn t tell for sure
without turning to look.
What about your favorite color? Do you have one? Julian seemed intent on
distracting himself by asking questions.
I do, actually. I like platinum. The real one, not the hair color.
Platinum. That s not a real color.
Maddy barely held back a snort. Of course it is. The metal has a distinctive color.
It s not flat like gray, but not as flashy as silver.
Out of the corner of her eye she saw him open his mouth and then close it again. She
pressed her lips together to hide her smug satisfaction.
Over the next hour, they spoke infrequently, Julian seeming loath to do anything that
might take her attention from the road. It really amused and touched her that this tough
guy exhibited such trepidation over her driving.
Julian s cell rang just before the MacKay Bridge. When he hung up after the brief
conversation, Maddy looked over expectantly.
He paled under his tan. Road. We re hundreds of feet over Halifax Harbor. I d just
as soon not test the safety of the rails.
She rolled her eyes. Was that Kyle?
Yes. He s going to pull ahead and you can follow him.
Good idea. We aren t that far from the airport now.
Julian didn t relax until they parked. After a cursory look around, he practically dove
out of the car.
Grinning, Maddy followed suit.
Kyle shook his head slightly at Julian s haste.
Should I be offended? He s a very nervous passenger.
Kyle s mouth tightened briefly. It isn t you. Julian had a & narrow escape once. He
is edgy in the passenger seat.
Damn. She wanted to know what happened, but it seemed both rude and invasive to
ask. Why the hell didn t those little psychic blips show her
The explosion threw him across the interior and into the reinforced side of the limo.
He automatically rolled to protect the client, only noticing the pain in his shoulder and
chest as he settled around the smaller man.
The limo flipped, tossing Julian like a pinball. Alcohol decanters smashed, spraying
alcohol and crystal shrapnel. With a heavy crash, the limo skidded to a halt, bouncing
Julian and his charge sharply. One of the bulletproof windows gaped open and the panels
on one side had folded into the cabin of the limo like origami.
Dammit! What the fuck is going on? Julian roared over the sounds of gunfire and
breaking glass.
Fucking ambush. Kyle s voice centered him.
A quick replay set the scenario in his head. The limo driver had hit the car bomb.
The explosion had tossed the limo like a Matchbox car. Fuck.
FUBAR. The situation had just gone FUBAR.
Julian moved slightly to check his charge. Fortunately, the man was unconscious.
Unfortunately, that would make moving him a bitch and a half. Julian s hands moved
over him, checking for injuries. In a detached way, he noticed the blood spattering the
backs of his hands.
Situation? Julian frowned. His voice sounded distant, tinny. Something warm slid
down his back.
Limo driver s dead. Follow-on car is disabled, but not destroyed. Mr. Moyoti?
Alive, unconscious. Broken arm, probable concussion.
How about you?
He didn t bother to check himself. Functional.
Chopper en route. ETA twelve minutes.
Bullshit. No way the chopper would be here in less than twenty. Gritting his teeth, he
eased Moyoti flat. Julian turned to pull his G36 from the rack. His back erupted in a flash
of pain that momentarily blinded him. His hand convulsed on the stock, the polymer
edges biting but not breaking the skin.
What the fuck was that?
His vision cleared, but the pain remained. Forcing himself to work through it, he
unfolded the buttstock from the receiver and slapped a magazine into place. He pulled the
magazines over, his shoulders and back screaming. More warmth slid down his back. He
was bleeding.
His vision grayed around the edges again. He did not have time for this shit.
Maddy shook her head to clear it and rolled her shoulders, shrugging off the phantom
pain.
You re getting the visions, aren t you? Kyle sounded somehow satisfied and
concerned at the same time.
She blinked and turned away. I m not talking about this now.
You keep saying that. We have to talk about it sooner or later.
I m voting later. We have a plane to catch. She ducked around to get her luggage
without looking at him. She didn t want to deal with this. Yes, she knew she had to, but
that didn t mean she wanted to. They d be stuck on a plane together for hours with no
escape she wouldn t be able to avoid this discussion. And though it disgusted her to
think so, she recognized that if she had any other option if her safety were not at
issue she would run like a rabbit from a fox.
And like the rabbit, odds were good they would chase her down.
* * * *
She d never flown on a private plane. The jet was a sleek, gunmetal gray with a
discreet stylized falcon in black on the tail section. It didn t look like the small planes
she d seen before. This one seemed to have an engine mounted on the top.
She stood next to the limo, clutching the laptop case. What is that?
Dassault Falcon 50.
Maddy tilted her chin, giving Kyle a distinctly skeptical look.
It s French, he offered, as if that explained everything. Maybe it did.
Kyle ushered her to the metal stairs, urging her up the steps. She ducked into the
plane and froze in shock. Only Kyle nudging her from behind pushed her another few
steps inside.
Stay in here. We need to load the baggage.
Since she was still gawking, she didn t think that would be a problem. She d
expected it to look kind of like a first class cabin. It didn t. It looked like the inside of a
yacht. A small galley at the front had gold accents. No kidding gold accents. And a huge
plasma TV. Four leather recliners made up the front seating section, with fold-down
[ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]