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Ranger laughed. Fuckinglaughed. “What the fuck is wrong with you? The Queen B told you there were missions that sucked and none are glorious. You joined our team, and this is the type of shit we do.”
He didn’t know Ian's connection to the woman on the gurney? Thought he was upset over a prison break?
Maybe he wouldn’t kill him. Did Beatrice know, or was this some weird karmic Murphy’s Law thing coming around to haunt him?
He took a breath, steadying his hands before he injected the adrenaline. “Never mind.”
“To be honest,” Ranger said, “this is a rare one. Most of our missions involve rescues, but this is the first one I’ve done where the target was pretending to be dead.”
Ian watched as the last of the liquid went into Vivi’s vein. Jaxon had told him it would take approximately five to ten seconds for her to revive. He tossed the used needle into the sharps container, at the same time counting off the seconds on his watch.
Five, four…
“Uh oh.” The van began to decelerate and Ranger glanced in the rearview at him. “We’ve got trouble. Get back up here.”
Two, one…
Vivi gasped, her body jackknifing straight up. Ian caught her by the shoulders. “What the fuck?” he asked Ranger. “What kind of trouble?”
At that moment, a revolving blue light cut through the windshield and raked over them. Vivi’s eyes were clouded and she continued to gasp for air. Confusion knit her brows and she gripped Ian’s arms.
“Can’t outrun ’em.” The van slid to the side of the road, kicking up gravel. Ranger glanced over his shoulder and ordered, “Get her back in the body bag and get your ass up here.Now.”
Like that was gonna happen. Ian slammed her down on the gurney. “Vivi, listen to me. You have to play dead. Don’t move. Don’t breathe. No matter what happens.”
A hint of recognition crossed her face, and on its heels, fear. “Ian?”
Her voice was raspy, but even so, he found his own breath stick in his chest. God, he’d missed her. Her voice, her smile. Regardless of what was happening, all he wanted to do was grab her and squeeze. Prove to himself she was really alive.
Her breathing evened out and her eyes cleared. His relief at that fact didn’t take away the anger boiling under his skin over the subterfuge, but now wasn’t the time to dive into either that or his fucked up feelings about her.
He shut down his emotions, like the good soldier he was. “Play dead,” he commanded, and then flipped the material back over her face. “Or you really will be.”
Four
Everything came rushing back at once. Waking in a body bag was a nightmare. Feeling like she was in space hovering over herself had seemed like a dream.
But when she’d heard a set of men’s voices a few feet away, she’d realized it was neither a dream, nor her worst nightmare.
Beatrice had come through. Vivi was free. Sure, she was in the rear of what she assumed was a coroner’s van, and something was wrong, but she could breathe again.
Play dead. Ian’s voice rang in her ears, even as she trembled from the adrenaline coursing through it. Her brain wasn’t fully online, and her CIA training was far in the past, yet some deep-seated survival instinct kicked in when the door squeaked open.
“A single corpse,” she heard one of them say. Not Ian; the driver. “The paperwork is all here, Officer.”
The beam of a flashlight teased the edges of the bag. She wondered why Ian hadn’t closed it—that was sure to give them away, wasn’t it?
Holding her breath, she steeled her body to keep it from trembling. She was out of that horrible place, and she wouldnotgo back, no matter what. She’d take a stand here rather than ending up inside a prison again.
The owner of the flashlight climbed in, causing the back end to dip slightly. Forcing herself into her mind palace, she entered her favorite room, full of peace and comfort and…
She nearly jumped when the man patted her foot.
Bastard. He felt his way up her calf, making sure the lump under the fabric was human and not hiding drugs or other contraband.
Don’t breathe, don’t breathe.
The hand stopped at her hip. “Why’s the zipper open?”
