She went still. “And where is this cave?”
“Tibet.”
Her heart skipped a beat. “I thought you were in Copenhagen. Didn’t your committee send you there?”
“That was an easy problem to solve. I went straight from there to Beijing.”
“Why? Did they have a few brilliant computer whizzes you wanted to ‘liberate’?”
“Perhaps. Whatever I was doing is classified, Catherine.”
She dismissed the question. “Venable will find out. So what are you doing in a cave in Tibet?”
“I’m waiting for a helicopter to land to pick up our shooter. He’s on a plateau about five minutes from where I am.”
She inhaled sharply. “You found him?”
“I sent my men out questioning and searching the minute I got Erin to Hong Kong. I put an urgent on it. And I boarded a flight out of Beijing within the hour.” His brows lifted. “Would you expect anything else? Erin is one of mine. No one is permitted to touch her.”
“I’m afraid she doesn’t accept that designation,” she said dryly. “She’s an independent journalist and belongs only to herself, not to you, not to your committee.”
“And we respect both her independence and her vision. It’s what made her a Pulitzer Prize winner. It’s what made us have an interest in acquiring her for our project.”
“She turned you down, Cameron. She doesn’t want to be part of your ‘perfect’ future world.”
“Not at the moment. But as she becomes more discouraged and disillusioned at what’s happening around her, she might change her mind. She came close a few months ago.” He shrugged. “If she doesn’t, so be it. I still chose her, and I have to protect her. It’s my job.”
“As the Guardian?” she said mockingly.
“It’s what I am,” he said simply. “It took me a long time to decide I’d accept the responsibility. I take it seriously.”
“I’m sure you do. Everything from killing and blowing up fireworks factories to rescuing idealistic reporters from the bad guys.” She changed the subject. “Does this shooter have a name? Venable hasn’t been able to trace him yet.”
“Carlos Nagoles.” He smiled teasingly. “And my techs were able to track and identify him within eight hours. It’s wonderful what you can do without government red tape. He’s a killer for hire who works principally out of Hong Kong and Beijing. Very efficient. Very expensive.”
“You’re sure he’s the sniper?”
“Quite sure. I don’t make mistakes like that, Catherine,” he said gently.
“I thought he might have ties to the South American drug cartels.”
“And he might, but he’s freelance.” He paused. “You thought he might be connected to Santos.”
Her eyes widened. “How do you know about Santos?”
“Erin didn’t know enough about what was going on with you, so I had to tap Hu Chang. I would have gone to you, but I was pissed off that you hadn’t told me yourself.” He paused. “I’m still pissed off.”
“And, of course, Hu Chang told you everything he knew.”
“He’s a wise man. He wanted to enlist all the help he could to protect you. But we’ll go into that at another time.” He straightened. “I have to leave. I hear the helicopter. By the way, when we intercepted the message from the pilot to Nagoles, he mentioned that he’d been sent by Santos to pick him up. If you had any doubts it was Santos who was targeting you, that should put them to rest.”
“Wait. Do you have help to take Nagoles down?”
“It’s only a helicopter pickup. Nagoles is hiding in the rocks near the plateau. When the helicopter lands, he’ll surface, and I’ll have him.”
“Is that a no?”
He got to his feet. “I’m touched by your concern.”
“Cameron, listen,” she said urgently. “I don’t want this Carlos Nagoles dead. I want to ask him questions.”
“I thought that might be why you were trying to contact me.” He was heading for the cave opening. “I don’t promise you anything, Catherine. Santos’s errand boy piloting that helicopter will definitely go down. Nagoles? He tried to kill Erin. I’m not going to let him get a chance to do it again.” The glance he gave her over his shoulder was cool, narrowed, and razor sharp. “If you’re lucky, I might place a few questions to him. Emphasis on might.”
“Damn you. I need to—”
But the cave was suddenly gone.
And so was Cameron.
She was only surrounded by the shadowy darkness of her familiar bedroom.
And Cameron was somewhere on that mountain in Tibet, running toward the shooter.
And she wanted to be with him.
Who knew what kind of firepower the pilot on that helicopter would have?
Why was she worried? Cameron was totally remarkable and could certainly take care of himself.
And the bastard had refused to give her any reassurances about Nagoles. Cameron would do things his way and to hell with what she wanted. Which meant that she might lose her chance to get the information she needed about Santos’s location. So it was ridiculous for her to feel anything but anger at Cameron.
And stupid of her to still want to be on that mountain with him.
* * *
Cameron could feel the blood coursing through his veins as he ran down the rocky path to the plateau. Seeing Catherine again had made every sense come alive. Long, dark hair, sleek and shining, a slight tilt to those dark eyes that were bold and fierce and brimming with life against the gold of her skin. A mouth that was shaped as beautifully as the rest of her features. A slim body that was still sensual, sexual as well as strong. He loved her strength as much as that sexuality. In spite of his anger, she’d had the same explosive sexual effect on him as she’d had from the moment he’d met her. Sex and obsession. As Guardian, it wasn’t wise for him to form obsessions, but Catherine had definitely become an obsession. That was why he’d resented the fact that she’d not come to him for help when she’d been targeted. She had left him out, and it angered him … and hurt.
Stop thinking of Catherine. There was work to be done.
His gaze raked the clusters of rock ahead for signs of Nagoles. By nature, he was a hunter, and Nagoles was fair game. Not only was he a killer, but he was a threat to Erin and Catherine. Besides, he didn’t often get the chance to go one-on-one. To his infinite disgust, the committee regarded him as too valuable to the project to risk.
He could see the red-and-cream helicopter on the horizon. It was losing altitude, preparing to land.
Nagoles had still not come out of the rocks.
Wait.
Watch.
He dodged to one side for cover as he reached the rocks.
The helicopter was hovering.
Shit. There was a missile mounted on either side of the copter.
A complication.
Where the hell was Nagoles?
Then the helicopter was on the ground, rotors blowing snow in all directions.
“Here!” Nagoles was running through the boulders toward the helicopter, his right hand clenching on his rifle.