do have it?”
Again, silence.
“Sir—”
Hatch slammed the control rod against the window and spun around. Something Jared had never seen before flashed through his old mentor’s eyes as the wooden slats continued to slap against the glass panes, and this time it wasn’t desperation.
“Alex Morrow is not dead.”
For the fourth time in ten minutes, silence locked in.
No matter what Sam Hatch claimed, this was more than some deep-cover agent trapped out in the cold, possibly for good. Jared waited until the blinds stilled, until the fire smoldering in Hatch’s dark-brown eyes cooled. Despite the fact that he no longer worked for the man, he owed Hatch more than he could ever repay and they both knew it. For that reason alone, he chose his words with care. “You want to tell me what’s really going on?”
“Can’t. Not now.” Hatch shrugged. “Later, perhaps.”
Perhaps.
Hatch expected him to risk his hide, Morrow’s, as well—if indeed it was still in one piece—on a flimsy ‘perhaps’? Jared stared into that iron gaze once more and held it. He knew better than most how hard Hatch took the loss of an agent. But ten-to-one Morrow was already dead and they both knew it. As a military general, DeBruzkya had subscribed to the school of slaughter first, ask questions later. Since his graduation to dictator, the bastard had taken the motto to new heights—and even grislier horrors.
Dammit, Morrow was dead.
But what if he wasn’t?
Despite Jared’s efforts to slough off the insidious whisper, it continued to cling. The doubt refused to surrender. Another minute, and he could feel his resolve buckling beneath it. Christ, why not? A one-man op, Hatch had said. Screw the odds. He’d be in and out before DeBruzkya even knew he was there. If he did get caught, so what? It was a better way to go than the path the good Lord had already carved out for him. Besides, if he did succeed, he’d kill two birds with one stone. Repay two men. Sam Hatch and Alex Morrow.
The geologist had obviously kept his word. It was time for Jared to return the favor. While he still could.
His decision must have shown on his face, because Hatch launched into the mission brief before Jared so much as nodded. “Good. You’ll leave with me. I’ve got a C-141 standing by at Lackland, secure comm link already on the plane. Decide on what you need in the air and call it in. It’ll be waiting for you by the time you touch down in Germany. Once you extract Morrow, you’ll need to hole up for a few weeks. Let things cool off before you risk executing part two of the mission.”
“Part two?”
Hatch nodded. “You’ll team up with Morrow and complete the original mission. We’ve added a few more pieces to the puzzle since Morrow’s disappearance. At first we assumed DeBruzkya was stealing gems to boost his coffers. It turns out he’s also obsessed with an ancient Rebelian legend regarding some mysterious “Gem of Power.” You can memorize the file on the flight and fill Morrow in. If there’s a kernel of truth behind this legend, I want you two to find it. And then I want you both to stop this bastard.”
Just like that, Jared’s decision reversed itself. “No.”
Hatch stiffened. Blinked.
“I’m sorry, sir. I can’t accept the—”
“Dammit, son, you just did. I could see it in your eyes.”
That was before he knew this was more than a simple grab and bag, and the old man knew it. “You didn’t let me finish. I’ll do the snatch. But immediately after, I leave. I can’t hang around.”
“What if Morrow’s injured?”
Crap. His gut had been clenched so tightly since the moment the chopper had set down, he hadn’t considered that. See? He was already slipping. If Morrow was alive, the man was bound to be injured—beaten and tortured within an inch of his life. Why else was Hatch so desperate that he do the snatch?
“Well?”
“You can have another medic standing by.”
“I want you standing by. I also want you to see the rest of this mission through.” When he refused to answer, Hatch stalked back to the windows. “Dammit, son, what else have you got waiting for you? A bunch of goddamned cows? You’ve owned this ranch for eight years now, so don’t rehash that half-assed line of garbage you dumped in my house about it being time to turn in your ARIES credentials and settle down. It stunk the first time.”
Jared jerked up from the edge of the desk as the last punch landed square and low, deep inside his gut. “If you were so sure I was lying, why’d you let me go?”
The man just stared. Breathed.
That steel-gray brow finally arched.
Horror congealed along every square inch of Jared’s body. A split second later, his stomach bottomed out as acid seared up his throat. Shame followed, hot and roiling. Hatch knew.
The man’s slow nod confirmed it.
Jared sucked in his air. Swallowed the bile. “Then how the hell can you even ask?”
“Because I know you.”
“Then you also know I’d do it if I could.” Hell, he’d still do the snatch. But not the follow-on mission. A mission that had the potential to drag on for weeks, months…or longer. “Find someone else. Someone who can see the job through. Please.” He didn’t care that he was begging. He couldn’t afford to.
“I’m asking you. I trust you.”
Jared slumped against the desk and clenched his fingers beneath the edge, dimly aware of the air ripping through his lungs as he worked to keep the tremors from racking his body. Of his heart hammering against the wall of his chest. Of the ice-cold void closing in as his remaining dignity died.
“I’m sorry, son. I know Janice shouldn’t have called me, but she did. Even then, I’d hoped—”
“Yeah. Me, too.”
Terse silence locked in once again. But this time, it was his. And this time, he was the one who finally broke it.
“All right. I’ll do it.”
Chapter 1
The world had gone dark again.
Silent.
No…it was her. She remembered now. Her eyes, they were closed. She tried opening them, but her lids refused to cooperate. She was still so very tired. She forced herself to fight the exhaustion deep within her bones and gather the dregs of her strength. It seemed to take forever, but she finally managed to pry her eyes open, to focus. The world wasn’t dark. It was light.
White.
And it wasn’t silent.
She could make out the constant hum and occasional clicks of machinery. The high-pitched, steady whine of electronics. A door opening and then closing somewhere in the distance. Voices. Muted and conversing in a clipped, guttural language she didn’t recognize, but voices nonetheless.
Thank you, God.
She searched the white and finally realized she was staring at portable, floor-to-ceiling curtains. That’s right. She remembered those, too. If she turned her head to the left, she’d be able to see the rest of the hospital room. Unfortunately moving her head took so much effort. So much energy. Energy she couldn’t seem to muster.
Do it.
Somehow she did—and gasped softly. The man was still there, handcuffed to the safety rails on the bed beside hers. He’d been beaten. Viciously. He was unconscious to boot. Or was he sleeping? She hoped so. She opened her mouth to call to him, to find out, but nothing came out. She tried