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He didn't give her a chance to finish the thought, let alone speak it.
Before Dylan realized what was happening, she was lifted out the window and over the solid bulk of his shoulder. She heard his boots clanking on the rattling iron of the fire escape. Then she felt her whole world shift as he incredibly - impossibly - vaulted over the railing with her.
They hit the dark pavement three stories below.
It wasn't the bone-breaking crash she anticipated, but a soft, almost graceful connection between his feet and the ground. She was still trying to process how that could be when suddenly she was pushed into the back of an open delivery truck that idled near the place they'd touched down.>She scoffed, too bold for her own good. "Why? So you can go after them too?"
Rio's mind switched into immediate reconnaissance mode. He threw a glance at her belongings and saw a messenger bag slung over the hotel chair. The bag looked like it probably contained a computer. He stalked over to it and withdrew a thin silver laptop.
He opened it and hit the power button, which must have given the woman an idea that she could make another break for the door. She bolted, but Rio cut her off at the pass. He stood in front of her, his back against the heavily locked panel, before she even had a chance to imagine freedom.
"Holy shit," she gasped, blinking at him in disbelief. "How did you get - ? You were all the way across the room - "
"Yes, I was. And now I'm not."
Rio stepped forward, away from the door, forcing her to retreat. She backed up as he kept advancing, obviously unsure what to make of him now.
"Sit down," he ordered her. "The sooner you cooperate, the sooner this will be over."
She took a seat on the edge of the bed, watching as he went back to her computer and fired up her Internet connection. Her e-mail was a revelation. Aside from the usual personal garbage and a recent airline ticket change, Rio found several messages in her Sent folder going out to some kind of news organization - a few of them complete with photos. He clicked one open and quickly scanned the contents.
"Ah, Christ. You've got to be kidding me," he muttered. He swung a glare at her over his shoulder. "You're a goddamn reporter?"
She didn't answer, just sat there biting her lip like she wasn't sure if a yes might get her killed faster than a no.
Rio put down the laptop and started pacing tightly.
He thought the situation had been bad before? Well, now he was faced with a nuclear-grade disaster. A reporter. A reporter with a camera and a computer and an Internet connection. No amount of mind-scrubbing was going to take care of that.
He needed an assist here, and he needed one pronto.
Rio grabbed her computer and called up the instant messaging software. He typed in a masked ID that would route to the Order's tech lab at the compound in Boston. The address was monitored 24/7 by Gideon, the warriors' resident computer genius. Rio entered a cryptic message using code that identified him, his location, and his need to contact.
The response came back from Gideon almost immediately. Whatever Rio needed, the Order would provide. Gideon was standing by for details.
"You got a cell phone?" he asked the reporter sitting mutely near him. When she shook her head, Rio snatched the desk phone and typed in the hotel's landline. "What room number is this? The number, damn it!"
"Uh, it's 310," she replied. "Why? Who are you calling? Are you going to tell me what's going on?"
"Damage control," he said, about a second before the telephone started ringing.
He picked up the receiver, knowing it was Gideon even before he heard the slight English accent on the other end. "I'm calling on a scrambled signal, Rio, so speak freely. What's up? More importantly, where the fuck have you been all this time? For crissake, it's been five months since you went off grid. You don't write, you don't call...don't you love me no more?"
God, it was good to hear a familiar voice. Rio might have smiled at the thought but things were too far south on his end. "I've got a situation here - it's not good, my friend."
Gideon's humor vanished and the warrior was all business. "Talk to me."
"I'm in Prague. There's a reporter here with me - a female. American. She's got pictures from the mountain, Gideon. Pictures of the hibernation chamber and the glyphs on the walls."
"Jesus. How did she get in there to take pictures? And when? That cave's been sealed up since you guys were there in February."
Ah, hell. No getting around it. He had to just spit the truth out. "The cave wasn't sealed. There were some delays...I didn't secure the damn thing until today. After the pictures were taken."
Gideon blew out a curse. "All right. I'm assuming you've scrubbed her, but what about the photos? Do you have them?"
"Yeah, I have them, but here's where it gets worse, Gid. She's not the only one who's seen them. They've already gone out via e-mail to the paper she works for and several other inpiduals. If I could've contained this by scrubbing her, I would have. Unfortunately, it's bigger than that, my friend."
Gideon was quiet for a long moment, no doubt calculating the endless ramifications of Rio's fuckup, even though he was too much of a diplomat to list them off. "First thing we need to do is get you out of there and somewhere secure. The woman too. Think you can hold her until I can arrange a pickup?"
