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“And then, we should be at our destination.”
“A house,” she said wistfully.
“A house,” he said, and then he caught his breath and drew her to a halt. “And there it is!”
“Really?”
He pointed straight ahead.
A wide field of uncut wild grasses stretched before them, bending and swaying under the lash of the wind and the rain, and beyond the grassy field, on a knoll perhaps two, three hundred feet away, rose a house.
It had the four walls and roof Alessandra had hoped for. It wasn’t big, but it didn’t have to be. It was a house, and it was theirs.
Alessandra gripped his hand. “Tell me it’s not a mirage.”
Tanner grinned. “It’s real. And it’s all ours, until they come and get us.”
She laughed and stepped out of the trees, but he pulled her back
“Not so fast. You’re going to stay put while I check things out.” She started to protest, but he stopped her. “No arguments, Alessandra. I’m doing this alone. If something goes wrong, head back into the swamp.”
“No! I am not going to let you—”
“Goddammit, woman, I’m not asking, I’m telling. Things go bad, you make for the river. Hide, wait for a lull in the storm. Then get into that canoe and paddle like hell.” He hesitated. “And if Bright Star turns up, if they take you—if I’m gone—remember that the name of the game for all these bastards is money. You’re worth more to them alive than dead.” He reached out, stroked her wet hair back from her face. “You do whatever they tell you to do, Alessandra. Understand?”
Tears glittered in her eyes.
He dug into his pack, took out the satphone and handed it to her.
“Chay’s number is programmed in.”
“Tanner. Listen to me…”
He shrugged off the backpack and let it fall to the ground. Then he unholstered the SIG-SAUER and handed it to her.
“Use it if you have to. No hesitation. No second-guessing. Just do what you have to do.”
The tears were running down her face.
“Please. I don’t want to leave you…”
He pulled her to her toes and kissed her.
It was a hard, deep kiss that said everything he wanted to tell her, and when she threw her arms around him and returned his kiss with all the sweetness and passion a man could want, he knew that he stood on the threshold of something that was, in its own way, even more dangerous and exciting than the life he had created for himself at STUD.
One last kiss. Then he unslung his MP7, cradled it in his arms, cleared his mind of everything except the task ahead and left the relative safety of the swamp for the long, open stretch of grass.
The rain drove against his face with the force of a million tiny needles. The wind whipped the tall grass around his legs as he ran a zigzag course towards the house.
He’d made this kind of run scores of times before.
It was exhilarating and terrifying at the same time. You never knew if you’d reach your target or be cut down halfway to it. Always, you ran for yourself, but also for the men with you.
Their lives were as important as yours.
Now, something new had been added.
He was running for Alessandra.
