Chapter Three
Paige and Simone had swept the vessel for any trace of illegal activity while
Walter and Sylvester had gone to the control room to begin their work. Paige
had found a few questionable items, like white powdery residue in some plastic
baggies in a trash can. Taking pictures with her camera phone, she had cleared
her half of the vessel before heading up to the deck where a surveillance
center had been installed.
Simone joined her about ten minutes later. "Did you see anything suspicious?"
the French agent asked as she strode into the room.
"Yes, I took photos." Paige touched the screen of her cell before handing
it to the other woman.
Watching as Simone swiped through the pictures, Paige tried not to yield
to the irrational jealousy at the thought of Walter and her. . .together.
She wondered what she had missed the first time they had worked with the
Interpol agent. She'd been so wrapped up in worrying about Sylvester plus
Drew pressuring her to go out with him, she hadn't noticed anything untoward.
Something had occurred between the agent and the genius, that much was now
obvious.
"Oh, is this your son?" Simone asked, holding up the phone. "Sorry, I didn't
mean to pry," she added as Paige just stared at her. "It's just that Walter
has told me so much about him."
"Yes, that's Ralph," she replied, snatching the cell from the other woman's
hand. She had to bite her lip to keep herself from asking when the two of
them had discussed her son. Had Walter been in contact with her since that
first case? She didn't know why, but the thought of them communicating without
her knowledge felt like a betrayal.
Simone smiled. "He's cute. Walter says he's even smarter than he is. I could
tell he's very fond of him."
"Yes." Tears welled up in her eyes and she had to take a deep breath. "Aren't
we supposed to keep a lookout?" she asked, waving her hand at the dark monitors.
"Of course." The agent powered up the console and one by one, the cameras
came online.
Paige saw Walter and Sly pop up on one of the screens, appearing to be in
the middle of a serious conversation as they both typed on their laptops.
They must have taken out their coms because she couldn't hear what they were
saying. Wishing she could read lips, she sat down, leaning back as she crossed
her arms.
She watched as Walter closed his eyes, his lips compressed as what she could
only describe as anguish spread over his features. Wondering what could be
causing him such pain, she peeked over at the woman seated beside her, who
was looking at another monitor.
An awkward silence grew, at least Paige thought so. The other woman seemed
perfectly content to stare at the screens. She and Simone had nothing in
common, well, other than this mission. . .and Walter. His gruff attitude
the day before had hurt, although she didn't know what she'd expected. She'd
told him to stay out of her personal life. He was doing as she requested.
Then why had it brought her to tears when he'd been so cold and impersonal.
It was what she wanted. Wasn't it?
Sighing wearily, she tossed another glance Simone's way. She could see why
Walter would be attracted to her. She was beautiful, smart, determined. .
. Paige knew she was being bitchy but she imagined the French woman collected
lovers like some women collected shoes. She had suspicions about her genius
boss, suspicions explaining why he was so clueless around women. A sophisticated
woman like Simone would expect. . .well, things. . .things he'd probably
never done before.
Paige didn't think Simone would deliberately be cruel, but. . . Tipping her
head back, she shut her eyes. She had to stop caring, she needed to stop
caring. . . But she just couldn't. The thought of Walter being humiliated
at the hands of the woman sitting beside her. . .any woman, really. . . It
angered and sickened her.
"Are you unwell?" The French accented voice startled her. She shot a glance
at the other woman and plastered a phony smile on her face.
"No, I'm fine." Returning her gaze to the screens, she watched as a black
Humvee pulled up the dry dock's access area. "Who's that?" she asked, pointing
at the monitor as four men climbed out of the vehicle.
"Merde." Simone tapped her com. "Cabe, men from the cartel have arrived.
I've ID'd one of them as Luis Ramón, one of the cartel's chief lieutenants.
We're going to need back-up."
"Copy that," the agent replied. "Walter, Sylvester, you hear that?"
"They took their coms out," stated Paige, still curious what the pair had
been talking about. Looking at them, they were still busily hacking away,
the conversation between them obviously over, their ear pieces laying forgotten
on the control panel.
"Well, hell. Tell them to get out of there, then get out yourselves." Cabe's
growl set both women in motion.
Walter frowned as he heard two sets of shoes clanking their way down the
spiral staircase on the other side of the computer room. He glanced up then
stared as Paige and Simone burst through the narrow archway.
"The cartel's here," Simone said breathlessly. "We need to get out of here."
A loud clanging sound rang out above them, followed by voices and footsteps.
Lifting his eyes upward, panic spread through his body, his heartbeat grew
rapid and his breathing shallowed. In a matter of minutes, they were going
to be caught, and by the frightened expression on Sly's face, the odds they
would die were nearly 100%.
"I can't leave," Walter said, his eyes returning to his notebook. "I haven't
finished installing the code to override the jamming software."
"Walter, we have to get out of here," declared Paige nervously. "These are
drug lords. They kill people."
"I know. I need just five more minutes." He glanced up from his laptop. "Go.
I'll catch up."
The liaison shook his head. "No way. We all go or we all stay."
"No." He turned away, refocusing his efforts. "Go. I'll be right behind you."
Out of the corner of his eye, he glimpsed Paige as she crossed her arms over
her chest. "I'm not falling for that one again. If you're staying, I'm staying,"
she declared stubbornly.
"Fine. Simone, get Sylvester out of here."
"Walter." He heard a level of panic in the human calculator's voice warning
him the other man was close to shutting down.
"It'll be all right, Sly. I'm almost done. Go."
Simone placed her hand on his shoulder. "Be careful, Walter, s'il vous
plaît." She trailed her fingers down his biceps before giving him
a gentle squeeze. "Come on, Sylvester," she said as she drew out her service
revolver.
The two of them fled the computer room. Walter shook his head, the French
agent's reassuring yet suggestive touch scrambling his brain for a second.
Taking a deep breath, he resumed his typing.
Paige was pacing behind him, tension coming off of her in waves. Why had
she refused to leave? She certainly couldn't be worried about him. If she
was, she wouldn't have been flaunting the interloper in his face these past
months, knowing how he felt about her.
A burst of angry Spanish interrupted his wandering thoughts. "They're in
the surveillance room," Paige interpreted as she grabbed his arm. "Oh, God,
we forgot to shut off the monitors. They can see us right now. Walter, we
need to go."
The unexpected pressure on his upper arm, the same one Simone had touched,
jerked his head around to stare at Paige.
The look on his face caused Paige to drop her hand as if it were burned.
There was so much. . . She couldn't even describe it in only one word. It
was a seething mass of anger, annoyance, and. . .agony. All directed at her.
And all of it deserved.
She ducked her head away first, diverting her attention to his laptop. The
download bar was rapidly approaching completion. "Walter, it's done," she
said when he didn't react when it had finished.
Wordlessly, he yanked out the USB cord and shoved his computer into his backpack
before slinging it over his shoulders. "Let's go," he said briskly before
stalking out of the room.
When they reached the bottom of the nearest staircase, Paige glanced upward,
then tugged on Walter's sleeve, pointing at a foot on the top step. "Shit,"
he muttered, spinning around and heading in the opposite direction. She followed,
having a difficult time keeping up with his hurried pace.
Moments later, the other stairs leading topside appeared. Walter didn't even
stop, grabbing her wrist and pulling her toward another spiral set of stairs
going down to the next level. She discovered why seconds later, as footsteps
pounded down the other staircase.
Running down the narrow passageway, they climbed upward when they reached
a flight of stairs. He slowed down, cautiously approaching each door before
proceeding. After stumbling into a large room at the opposite end of the
vessel, Paige heard one of the men tell the others to keep searching. Glancing
at Walter, she saw he had also translated the order, and caught a glimpse
of panic in his eyes.
As soon as Walter entered the room, he realized it was a dead end. Spinning
around as Paige rushed in behind him, he discovered they were in the torpedo
room. There were two launch tubes, each large enough for a person to fit
within.
"Quick, get inside," he ordered, grabbing Paige's hand and pulling her to
the closest torpedo bay. "Feet first. Don't let the door close all the way."
She nodded. "Okay." She began to climb inside but paused when she was halfway
in. "Where will you be?"
"Right here." He pulled open the hatch on the second tube. "Dammit."
"What's wrong?" she asked as she slipped inside the narrow bay.
"There's a torpedo in this one." Clenching his fists, Walter frantically
scanned the room for another hiding place, coming up empty. The footsteps
were growing louder as did men's voices, heightening his anxiety.
"Get in," Paige hissed. He turned to see her scooting to one side of the
tube.
"There's not enough space for. . ."
"Dammit, Walter, don't argue. Get in here." Under her irritated tone, he
heard her terror. The drug lords were closing in and he really didn't have
any other choice. Taking a deep breath, he clambered up to the opening, sliding
the length of his body inside feet first, before shutting the hatch until
only a sliver of light remained.
He knew immediately he should have resisted her offer. They were lying on
their sides, face to face, their bodies intimately melded together from their
chests to their thighs. Closing his eyes, he stifled a moan as he became
aware of her every soft curve, breathed in her lavender scent, the heat radiating
through her clothing scorching his own feverish skin.
Paige wriggled, to get comfortable or to put some distance between them,
he didn't know. Either way, she failed miserably, her movement causing the
awkward situation to grow even more so. A gasp escaped her lips, drawing
his attention to her face, where her hazel eyes were staring back at him,
her pupils huge in the dim light.
He trembled with need, spiraling out of control as she shuddered against
him. Her heart was beating in sync with his, her breathing the same shallow
pattern. It was taking all of his rapidly dissolving willpower not to thrust
himself against the dampening apex of her thighs.
Then she tremulously lifted her hand and gently stroked his face before slipping
it behind his head and threading her fingers in his hair. It was if all their
animosity had been forgotten, as if he hadn't screwed up so badly, as if
she wasn't with the interloper. Just the two of them, all alone, together
like he'd imagined so many times in his dreams. He swallowed nervously, struggling
for air. Softly groaning her name, he placed her hand on her hip, gliding
it up to her waist.
She should have listened to him. He'd been right, there wasn't enough space
for two people in the slender tube. Watching him close his eyes, she became
aware of the solidness of his body against hers. His scent, a mixture of
soap and sweat, caused her heart to beat faster and made it hard to catch
her breath, as did the warmth radiating through his clothing.
Shifting so she wasn't lying on her arm, she gasped as he surged against
her belly, and she could feel every hard inch of him. His eyes met hers,
so dark and deep she felt herself drowning in them. She trembled with need,
spiraling out of control as he shuddered against her. It took every bit of
her rapidly dissolving willpower not to grind herself on his erection.
Instead she lifted a shaking hand, gently touching his face before sliding
her fingers into his curls. It was just the two of them again, like in the
dreams she still had of them together. She'd forgiven him for messing up
so badly, hoping he could forgive her for giving up on him. He groaned her
name as he reached out, placing his hand on her hip before gliding it up
to her waist.
"Oh, God, Walter," she whispered, moving her face closer to his, her tongue
moistening her lips as they neared his.