Sam smiled. “Not so much. I had a lot of good contacts. I saved an upper-level CIA operative’s ass during an incident at one of the U.S. embassies. He told me if he could ever return the favor to call him. So I did. Call him. It’s through him that a lot of our jobs are done, but we take jobs in the private sector as well.”
“Like?”
She couldn’t imagine normal, everyday people needing a military operation. Her father yes, but then he was as far from normal as one could get.
“Most of our hostage recovery missions are contracted through governments and not always our own. We’ve been hired by smaller countries without the military might of a more developed nation.
“In the private sector we’ve taken jobs to recover kidnap victims and we’ve also done fugitive recovery.”
Her eyes widened. “You mean like prison escapees?”
He smiled. “No, not quite. More like criminals who haven’t been apprehended yet or are on the run before they’ve been tried for their crimes. The job is a lot of things, but predictable and boring it’s not.”
“It sounds very dangerous,” she murmured.
“It can be, but we’re good at what we do. We hire and train the best.”
She grinned cheekily. “You sound like a commercial now.”
He reached over and chucked her on the chin. “No one likes a smart-ass.”
She caught his hand and kissed the tip of one finger. His eyes went molten, and for a moment he swerved as he took his attention from the road.
“You’re a menace,” he muttered.
Her eyes widened innocently. “What?”
He shook his head and chuckled but faced the road and returned both hands to the wheel.
CHAPTER 18
“I’M in position,” P.J. said into her receiver.
Out of habit, she took a wide, slow sweep from left to right with her scope and took in any potential problem areas.
“There’s a weak area to the west of the house. Three large trees connected by a mass of honeysuckle so thick you can’t see through it. Someone could hide in there and never be seen.”
“Should I break out the chain saw?” Cole drawled.
P.J. rolled her eyes. “You probably couldn’t handle that much power.”
“I’ll show you power,” he muttered.
“Children,” Dolphin reprimanded.
P.J. grinned and mentally counted to three. Yep, Steele broke in with his dry, no-sense-of-humor voice.
“Cut it, you two. We have a job to do here. I’ll take a look at your problem spot, P.J.,” Steele said. “You and Cole stay in position. Sam will be rolling in soon.”
P.J. pulled her field glasses up and watched, curious as to whether she’d actually be able to see Steele in the area. She knew she wouldn’t, but it was a game she never tired of. The man couldn’t always be that good, could he?
After several long minutes, Cole chuckled in her ear. “You won’t find him, P.J.”
She frowned. “How the hell do you know what I’m doing? I know damn well you can’t see me.”
“I could mess with you and say I can, but you’re predictable. I knew you’d be looking.”
Prompted by his needling to take him down a peg or two, she raised her rifle and did a meticulous sweep of the area where he’d taken position. She’d find his ass and nail it to the wall. Then he wouldn’t be so smug.
It took several sweeps and intense concentration, her eyes nearly crossing as she looked for any pattern that didn’t fit. She would have missed it if she’d so much as blinked, but there it was. A shoelace. Just the end between two leaves.
“Gotcha,” she whispered.
“Who you shooting now?” Cole asked in amusement.
“You. Just found you.”
Dolphin’s laughter broke in.
“Bullshit,” Cole said in a terse voice.
But there was a pause, and then the shoelace disappeared, and the foliage surrounding it shifted slightly as if blown by a breeze.
She laughed. “Nice move, but I’d have already nailed you. You gotta watch those huge feet of yours, Cole.”
“Son of a bitch,” Cole muttered.
“Is it true what they say about men with big feet?”
“Come down here and I’ll let you find out.”
She snorted. “You dream big.”
“As amusing as I find you two, I want radio silence and I want it now,” Steele ordered.
P.J. complied with the order and went silent. But she was still smiling as she went about her surveillance.
THE safe house was a large cabin ensconced in a wall of trees and buried in the foothills of the Appalachians. The area surrounding it was wide open and gently sloping. She could see its appeal from a protection standpoint. No way anyone could sneak up on you here.
Still, Sophie nervously surveyed the terrain and wondered if it would be safe. If her uncle would find her here, and if he did, would Sam and his team be enough to protect her?
Sam touched her hand, and she turned to look at him. His fingers curled around hers and he squeezed reassuringly.
“You’ll be fine here, Soph.”
She smiled and hoped it looked genuine. “How long do we have to stay here? Will you be going with the others when they go after my unc . . . my father?”
He looked startled by her question. “You’re so sure that’s what I’m doing.”
She shrugged. “It’s what I would do. He’s a threat to your family.”
“He’s a threat to you and our child.”
“Yes.”
“I don’t intend to let him remain a threat.”
She raised a trembling hand to her forehead.
“Are you okay? Is your head hurting? What about your arm?”
“I’m fine.”
He frowned but didn’t press. The SUV rolled to a stop, and Sam cut the engine before looking up to where Steele strode across the yard to meet them.
“Stay put until I come around for you,” Sam said as he opened the door and stuck a leg out.
She nodded, and he stepped out of the truck and shut the door, leaving her in silence.
He and Steele conversed, and Steele made several gestures at the surrounding area. Fear knotted her belly. Not fear for her safety. She felt at ease for the first time since she’d fled her father’s estate. This was a different fear.
She had to tell Sam everything. Soon.
Sam walked around the front of the truck and opened her door. He reached in to help her down and then hurried her toward the cabin.
She shivered as the cool, damp air brushed over her skin. The sun still hadn’t burned off the fog, and the ground was shrouded in light mist. She inhaled deep and pulled the moisture into her dry throat.
The wooden steps creaked under their feet as they climbed up to the porch. Sam opened the door and a rush of warmer air hit her in the face.
The inside was sparsely decorated, with only a couch and one well-worn armchair in the living room. A large stone fireplace dominated the back wall, but the hearth was empty and no fire blazed.
It wasn’t fancy, nor was it furnished beyond the bare necessities, but it felt safe. She had no idea if that was any real intuition or just a product of her wishful thinking. But for once it was nice to depend on someone other than herself for her well-being. She was tired—beyond tired—of running, of always fearing the current day would be her last.
Sam ran his hand up her back and over her shoulder before giving her a light squeeze.
“You okay?”
She turned and smiled at him and marveled at how nice it felt to really smile. To feel like smiling even amid such adversity.
“I’m okay. Better than okay. I was just thinking how nice it was to feel safe and to feel like I could depend on someone other than myself.”