Taking Cover (Wingmen Warriors #2)

Taking Cover (Wingmen Warriors #2) Page 27

"You're kidding, right?"

Given the gleam in Crusty's eyes, Kathleen suspected there might be more to his Black Program operations with the OSI than he had shared.

With an abrupt nod, Tanner faced front again. "Which leaves figuring out how to get inside that locked office."

Kathleen's eyes homed in on the third-story window. Quinn's. They'd met him inside for two interviews, and she could envision his desk, filing cabinet, computer. His personal records on the testing process would likely be there. It wouldn't take her more than five minutes to find what she needed if it lived in that office. The window was even vented open two inches.

A length of rope. A grappling hook. And she would be inside.

Tanner followed her line of sight to the window, then back to her. His face tightened. "No. Think of something else."

So much for his including her. "Why? It's the fastest, easiest way. It makes sense."

"You're only hours out of the E.R."

"And cleared."

"I'll do it."

"Yeah, right. Like your shoulders will fit. Not to mention you have not been cleared by your doctor."

His brows slammed down. "Then we'll find another way."

"Your way, you mean," she snapped.

A whistle sounded from the back. "Time out, you two."

Tanner and Kathleen turned to look at Crusty.

Their old pal shook his head. "Just like old times."

No kidding. There went any hopes that Tanner might change. She didn't expect him to roll over in a complete surrender. Just a compromise. Some sign that he would share control with her.

Kathleen forced herself to think, reminding herself to work with Tanner and Crusty, her team. No lone-ranger strategies. "Do either of you have a better idea? Otherwise we're stuck spending the rest of Christmas in this parking lot."

Tanner's chest expanded, stretching his shirt just before a weary sigh rumbled free, filling the car. "We can get the rope back at base. Then I'll spot you."

That concession, albeit a begrudging one, stirred a hope she hadn't allowed herself to feel in years.

Damn. Who would have thought hope would be more frightening than the prospect of a lifetime alone?

Tanner paced under the window. Checked his watch. Scanned the deserted gravel parking lot. Paced again.

The hazy cover of night could engender a false sense of security, but Tanner refused to let it lull him. Lot lights combined with stars to cast a dim halo over the building, enough for Tanner to scout for the guard and watch for Kathleen. Pray she wasn't pulling some stunt while he wasn't looking.

Ten minutes had passed since she'd glided up the side of the building with catlike grace. That woman wreaked hell on his heart rate. He told himself she wouldn't fall and the worst they were facing was a possible confrontation with the guard.

Not that it helped.

They had to wrap this up. If the Randy inspector hadn't been logging in his hours, how many other projects fell into question? As long as Quinn was on the up-and-up, the fallout could be minimal. If Quinn had been taking advantage of Randall's slackness to cut corners, the ramifications could be mind-blowing, involving multimillion-dollar test programs.

Stakes high enough someone might be willing to kill for them.

Damn it, what was taking her so long? What if Crusty hadn't been able to keep the guard occupied?

Tanner traced and retraced his well-worn path under the window. Why had he ever agreed to this in the first place? His damned impatience had lead him to charge ahead rather than wait until the morning when they could have waltzed straight in with the security police.

If she didn't come out of that window in thirty seconds, he would…

He didn't have to answer his own sure-to-backfire question since Kathleen's white-tennis-shoe-clad foot eased over the ledge, followed by the other as she lowered herself into the night.

Relief kicked through him so intense it almost drove him to his knees. He watched her rappel down the building. The woman was so incredible she sucked the air right out of his lungs. With the fluid grace of a natural athlete, she closed the distance to the ground. Each glide sent her hair rippling, sent his pulse pounding through him with memories of having that body move against him with the same grace.

Her white shirt fluttered with each gust of wind, whipped like a glaring flag of surrender. She was too vulnerable. He wanted to urge her to hurry. Wanted her to take her time. Wanted her off that building.

He braced his feet in case he had to catch her if she fell. Which she wouldn't. Even knowing she wouldn't need him, Tanner waited below. Ready.

She flung away from the building, thudded, pushed away, thudded again—a foot slipping, then steadying.

"Kathleen," he growled low.

"Shhh. Almost there."

Two more and she would land. Except she skipped the last leg and launched herself into the air, landing like a surefooted cat.

He forced himself not to yank her into his arms. Too much emotion. Too raw. He needed time to find his own footing and get them the hell out of there.

Her eyes glimmered with ill-suppressed excitement. "Tanner, you'll never believe—"

"Not now. In the car while we wait for Crusty to come out."

The glint of excitement in her eyes dimmed. He grabbed her arm and tugged her around the corner toward their new rental. Whipping the door open, he urged her inside before circling the hood and sliding behind the wheel.

He slammed the door closed, kicking himself ten times over for ever putting her at risk in the first place. So what if she hadn't been caught? They were damned lucky. Tanner hooked his wrists over the steering wheel and reminded himself not to let his frustration lead him into saying things that would send his lone rangerette running farther away.

Kathleen rested a hand on his arm. "Did something happen while I was inside?"

"Nothing." His muscles bunched beneath her touch. "But it could have."

"Tanner, I spent two years married to a man who couldn't appreciate what I do for a living. This is who I am. This is what I do. If you can't get over that, all the talks in the world aren't going to do a bit of good."

"Damn it, Kathleen, I care what happens to you. Is that so terrible?"

Her gaze softened. She cradled his cheek in her palm, leaned to kiss him.

He tucked her close, alive and safe against him. He kissed her back, once, twice, before resting his forehead against her. "We should have waited until morning."

"No. We shouldn't have." Her hand trailed to his chest. "We did it, Tanner."

The grip of fear twisting round his heart for Kathleen started to ease with each steadying breath, with her light massage along his arm. Maybe she was right. He just needed to trust her. They'd worked together, gotten her in and out of the building without a problem. "What did you find?"

"Nothing."

"Nothing?" He'd gone through hell for nothing?

"A very telling nothing." Kathleen eased back, her hand still on his chest. "Quinn's already cleared out his office. Everything. The files are empty. The shredder is full. His computer is blank. He's probably halfway to Mexico by now. If we had waited until morning, we would have missed out, if we're not already too late to catch him before he leaves the country."

A rustling sounded behind them. In the back seat. Dread socked Tanner right in the gut just before the cold barrel of a gun pressed against his neck. He stared in the rearview mirror at the brown eyes staring back with frantic intensity.

Quinn Marshall's reflection smiled as he pressed the gun deeper into Tanner's neck. "Oh, I would say you're right on time to give me that ride over the border."

Tanner's hands fisted around the steering wheel. He hadn't checked the car before tossing Kathleen inside, and now the nightmares of his past replayed with chilling precision. Except this time there was no question but that he was to blame.

Chapter 16

Kathleen stared at the gun, blinked, stared again, and still her brain refused to process the obvious for at least three horrifying seconds.

The glow from parking lot lights spilled into the car too well for there to be any mistake. Quinn Marshall had a gun pressed to Tanner's neck.

The long barrel of the silencer pressed a hideous threat against Tanner's skin.

Bile burned a path up her throat. Forget calm under fire and combat training. All those hammered reactions fell away as she fought the need to scream.

A flicker of reason feathered through her panic. A scream would startle Quinn. His finger could twitch. Tanner would be—

She shut down that thought before it stole rational thinking altogether. Where was Crusty? She had to stall until Crusty stepped outside.

Quinn nudged the gun up into the underside of Tanner's jaw. "Drive."

A pulse throbbed in his temple. Tendons strained along his neck as he turned on the ignition. "Where? There's not a chance you're going to get out of the country. The security police are already on your trail."

Kathleen struggled for something to contribute. "We checked in with the security police the minute we got out of the desert."

"Damned shame the two of you are so competent." Quinn's gun shifted from one to the other with nervous jerks. "I'd hoped a walk in the desert would buy me more time. Or at least throw out the big guy's back."

She didn't see the need to tell him the investigation had been shut down for the holidays. Quinn had only made things worse with his tire stunt.

Hurry, Crusty. Hurry, hurry, hurry. "Give it up, Quinn. Don't add kidnapping charges to everything else. It's well past midnight and at least six hours to the border. When we don't make our morning meeting, the border's going to close up for you."

"Good point." Quinn's words raced with nervous intensity. "That's why we're not going to drive now. Time to improvise. Go back to base. Since you ruined my road trip plans, we're going to steal a plane. Then, my friend, you're going to fly us out of the country."

Kathleen twisted around. "You've got to be joking. That will never work. What about security?" She scrambled for something, anything. "He can't fly, anyway. He's grounded."

"He looks mighty healthy to me. An old ace like me feels safer in the air than on the ground." Quinn centered the gun on Kathleen's temple. "Quit stalling, Bennett, and drive back to base."

Tanner's biceps flexed and rippled even though his hands stayed on the wheel.

Kathleen stifled a groan. Not because of the gun to her head, but because of its power over Tanner. No doubt Quinn had chosen his tactics well.

During the twenty-minute drive back to base, Kathleen told herself everything would be fine. Quinn couldn't get away with hijacking a military aircraft. Tanner would undoubtedly do something. Or the base security police would stop them.

But there could be shots.

If only Tanner didn't make such a big target.

God, she hoped Crusty would send up an SOS soon.

She should have kept her mouth shut about search regs. She and Tanner could have been back at the Edwards Inn, tangled in the blankets and each other.

But she'd been too scared to have a more meaningful talk with Tanner after their earlier intimacy, too afraid of launching herself headlong into heartache. Her fear had launched them both headlong into a nightmare, instead.

Like with Andrew, she'd let her personal life interfere with her professional decisions. Except this time the outcome could be so much worse. Her culpability so much more. With Andrew she'd merely turned a blind eye. This time she'd been an active participant, inflicting her will on Tanner.

They neared the front gate, a guard standing vigil beside a tiny hut. Kathleen tensed, readying for a possible confrontation. The gate sign proclaimed the duty guard's name, Airman DuPree from Baton Rouge, Louisiana. The man who could end this nightmare.