in the silence as he sat on the sofa.
She glanced at the window and saw the first hint of light. She wanted to get this over with before the sun came up. She didn’t want him to be able to watch her face. He read her too easily.
“We leave today,” she said. “So just go ahead and say it, Zach. It’s over, isn’t it?”
“It’s not that simple,” he said, his voice low and quiet in the darkness. “You have to choose.”
She hadn’t expected that. She crossed to the small dining set in front of the kitchen and pulled out a chair. The smooth wood was cold on her bare bottom. She shivered. “Between you and my job?”
“No, between your job and the real world. I made my decision a long time ago. I chose this world. I’ll never go back.”
She’d known from the beginning it wasn’t going to work. She’d known when he didn’t let her inside, when he didn’t share his heart, that this was just about sex. Maybe he picked a woman for every week off. Maybe she was the seventeenth one he’d brought to his cabin, just another notch on the bedpost.
“The job isn’t like selling insurance,” he said. “You can’t walk away from what you do. If you stay with the agency, you give it everything you have and there’s nothing left. You don’t get to be like everyone else. You live in the shadows, Jamie. You forget what it’s like to be in the light. You have the chance to be the best. You’ll pay a price for that. I want you to know—”
Her temper flared, and she cut him off. “What a terrific speech, Zach. How many times have you used it before? Shadows and light. Very evocative. But I’m not like your other bimbos. I’m not going to cry and I’m not going to beg. Save the rest of it for someone else. If you want me out of here, I’m gone.”
She rose to her feet. Before she could cross to the bedroom, he stood up and grabbed her forearm. She noticed he was careful to avoid the still-healing burns at her wrist. Damn him.
“This isn’t about me, Sanders,” he said. “It’s about you. You’re going to have to be faster, stronger and better. After a while, there isn’t anything left. I’m talking about an empty life. No family, no home—nothing normal.”
His words washed over her. She ignored them, ignored everything but the pain. She jerked free.
“You’re saying this because I’m a woman, right?” She shook her head. “You’re a hypocrite, Zach. I don’t see you having this conversation with Rick or anyone else.”
“Maybe they don’t have as much to lose.”
“Forget it. You’re asking me to give up everything I’ve ever worked for. Leave me alone,” she said. “I’m out of here.” She went into the bedroom and slammed the door. Ten minutes later, she was packed and heading out the door.
There was only one Jeep, but she didn’t care. She would leave it in town and pay someone to drive it back to him.
He made no move to stop her. She spared him one last glance as she started the engine. He stood in the doorway, wearing nothing but jeans. He was the most beautiful man she’d ever seen, and the most dangerous. As usual, she didn’t know what he was thinking and she told herself she didn’t care.
She put the Jeep into gear and started down the mountain. The beauty that had enticed her the first few days no longer impressed her. She wouldn’t be able to look at a mountain without thinking about Zach.
As the sun crept over the eastern horizon, she told herself at least she hadn’t cried. She would put this incident behind her and pretend it never happened. Then the lie got caught in her throat, and she had to fight back a sob. Who was she trying to kid? Zach had been right—she took things too personally. She wanted to tell herself that in a few days she wouldn’t even remember him, but she had a bad feeling she was never going to forget.
Chapter 4
The Present
Jamie raised the binoculars to her eyes and stared at the compound. The spring desert sun beat down on her. She’d never seen Zach Jones again. She’d heard about him, had even followed his career, without letting anyone know her interest.
Despite her accusations, she’d found out that he didn’t take women to his cabin. In fact, no one else knew the small wooden house even existed. Except maybe Winston Danville. Their boss knew everything.
“I owe you this for making me the best, Zach,” she said. “Then we’re even and I’m out of this business.”
She checked her watch. Three minutes.
In three minutes they would find out if their plan was going to work. She pushed away the tiniest flicker of fear. She’d always figured she was going to die on a mission. Why not this one?
“Party time,” she said.
She pressed her head into the crook of her arm and began to count. When she reached a hundred and eighty seconds, the ground started to shake.
The explosion was deafening. Even though Jamie was over a hundred yards from the compound and the ammunition depot was on the far side of that, she experienced a few seconds of not being able to hear anything. Dust and bits of debris pelted her like hail. The air was smoky, the smell acrid. Even as her mind registered all these impressions, her thoughts were overwhelmed by one piece of good news. At least there hadn’t been any surprises. Just a good, old-fashioned explosion.
She reached for her binoculars and quickly scanned the area. Dozens of men ran toward the inferno. No one headed her way. She shrugged into her backpack, then rose to a crouch and moved toward the compound.
The clock in her head told her about five seconds had passed since the ground had started shaking. Time was not her friend. In less than ten or fifteen minutes, the terrorists would stop chasing each other around and organize. Her window to find Zach and get out was seven minutes, tops. She would waste two of those just getting to the building where he was being held. She shook her head to clear any last cobwebs from the explosion. Her ears stopped ringing, and she could hear the sound of her own breathing.
Then her mind kicked into high gear. She needed all her mental energy to stay alert. Bits of metal and wood continued to fall from the sky. In the distance, a cloud of black smoke reached toward the heavens. Burning fuel. She inhaled, then coughed. The chemical smell grew as she got closer to the main compound.
The south and a bit of the east wall had been destroyed three weeks ago when Zach had been captured. The depot explosion had taken out most of the west wall. A large fire truck rolled out of a garage and headed toward the smoking fire. Jamie paused at the last shallow indentation before the compound itself and looked around.
Only a handful of men remained. Their uniforms weren’t much different from her own. In the confusion, she might just pass for another soldier. She tucked her long braid down the back of her shirt and pulled her cap low. After scanning the area one more time, she pulled out her nine-millimeter Smith & Wesson automatic and ran.
When she reached what was left of the east wall, she flattened against it. A minute forty-five seconds had elapsed. Her eyes burned from the drifting smoke. Sharp bits of wood dug into her back. She ignored it all and pictured the compound diagram. Prisoners were kept in the third building over. If it was still standing. If he was still there.
Adrenaline coursed through her, and her heart pounded, but her head was clear. Zach had made her the best. This situation wasn’t unfamiliar. She’d performed this particular exercise many times before. The only difference was, now it was personal. Pray that one change in circumstance didn’t get them both killed.
She pushed off the fence and ran into the compound. A few soldiers milled around. One she passed looked dazed. When he glanced up, his eyes widened. The edge of her left hand connected with the back of his neck, and he went down.
A jeep raced past her. The officer in the front passenger seat screamed orders. She ignored him and jogged toward