Page 20 of Hawk on the Hunt

“Fine.”

Dylan turned to the door and opened it. In the foyer, Zara was still standing in the same spot as before, however she held her purse in her hand again, and the contents, which had been strewn over the floor earlier, had been collected. Yankee and Tiger waited with her, though they remained a few feet away from her.

Dylan met Zara’s gaze as she watched him reemerge from the office and approach her. A million questions shone from her eyes, and he knew he needed to explain everything to her, or he would never regain her trust. He could only hope that she was willing to listen to the fantastical things that made him and the other Stargate agents special. And that she could set her disbelief aside when she heard the truth.

He was only a few yards away from her, when everything around him blurred. The loud boom of an explosion pierced his eardrums, and debris rained down on him. Stones and concrete broke all around him, while a cloud of dust blinded him for a moment. He heard screams all around him, but couldn’t make out any words, because his ears were ringing. He wiped the dust from his eyes, desperately trying to see where he was, and what was happening. He turned on his own axis, but there was only dust and rubble. He let his eyes roam, searching for anything that identified the building he was in, when he spotted a plaque. Speaker of the House, it said. But before he could make sense of what he was seeing, he spotted a body amongst the rubble. He forced himself to step closer, and as the dust settled, his vision became clearer, and he recognized the person.

“Zara!” he screamed, knowing he was too late. Her body lay limp among the destruction. She was gone.

12

Zara stared at Dylan as he suddenly froze only a few feet away from her, his face turning into a mask of pain. She’d seen him like this before, many times in fact, and she knew what it was.

She approached, reaching for him. “Oh my God, Dylan.”

But before she could put her hand on his arm to comfort him, Tiger jerked her back.

“Don’t touch him!”

She whipped her head to look at him. “He needs help. He’s got a migraine.” They had been debilitating, though he’d always recovered quickly, even though he didn’t take any medication for them.

“Migraine?” Ace asked, shaking his head. “Is that what he told you?”

Zara hesitated, finding Ace’s question peculiar. “What else would it be?”

But Ace didn’t answer her question, instead, he looked back at Dylan, whose knees suddenly buckled. Dylan didn’t collapse, because Ace caught him as if he’d anticipated this. Dylan’s head moved. He was breathing hard now, and his eyes scanned the area around him as if he was only just now realizing where he was.

“You’re okay?” Ace asked.

Nodding, Dylan stared at Zara. Now on his own two feet again, he bridged the distance between them, and drew her into his arms, holding her so tightly she could barely breathe.

“You’re here,” he murmured into her hair.

“What did you see?” Ace asked.

Dylan released her, and she looked up at him, recognizing worry in his eyes.

“I was in the rubble of the Capitol. A bomb detonated.” He swallowed hard.

“What?” Zara took a step back, shaking her head automatically. What was Dylan saying?

Dylan hesitated, and exchanged looks with the other three men. His expression serious, he finally addressed her, “I have premonitions.”

She continued shaking her head. “No. You had a migraine attack.”

“No. All those times when we were together, and you saw me like this, I had visions of future events. That’s my gift.” He motioned to the others. “And theirs. That’s what the CIA program was about.”

“That can’t be. Are you saying you’re a psychic?” She looked at the others, wondering if they would refute Dylan’s claim. But all three of them looked somber. This wasn’t a joke.

Before Dylan could answer, Ace interrupted, “He can tell you all about that later.” Then he stared at Dylan. “Did you see who or what caused the explosion? Any details you can share? Anything?”

Again, Dylan swallowed hard. He reached for her hand, clasped it, then looked at her instead of Ace. “You died in the rubble of the Capitol. I saw you. I couldn’t stop it. I was too late.”

Barely audible gasps came from the three men. Zara’s heart stopped, and she sucked in a breath and held it for several seconds, while her brain tried to understand the words that Dylan had spoken. She didn’t feel her body anymore. She felt as if she was outside of it, looking at the scene playing out in the foyer of the large mansion. Maybe she was having a nightmare. Maybe she wasn’t even here. What if she’d gone home after work, instead of following the tracker she’d activated on Dylan’s cell phone? What if none of this was real? Maybe Dylan hadn’t even come back to D.C. This could all be an elaborate dream she’d concocted to finally explain why he’d left her.

“Zara, did you hear what I said?”

His voice pulled her out of her thoughts. Her throat was too parched to form a word, her body trembling all of a sudden. She shook her head, and suddenly tasted something wet on her lips. It tasted salty, and she realized what it was: tears were streaming down her cheeks.