Falling Hard Read online

  Harlan didn’t walk away. Glanced at Ward’s closed fist instead. “Pearce says he’ll only talk to you.”

  “Yeah, well, Pearce has been spewing a lot of nonsense since he’s been in the cell. Apparently being locked in an eight-by-eight steel box with little access to anyone and no sunshine makes him chatty.” Not that Ward underestimated the guy. No, Pearce had serious skills.

  They shared similar training through the Farm, the CIA’s secret training facility near Williamsburg, Virginia. Interrogation techniques, survival drills, sleep deprivation practice. Pearce could shoot, stab, fly a plane, and launch a rocket. And that was just a partial list. He honed his skills with more than twenty years undercover and in the field.

  “He might be ready to say something helpful.” Tasha shifted her weight back and forth. “Maybe earn an extra dessert.”

  She was not the type to fidget. The moving around was a message of some sort. Since Pearce’s accommodations were just about the last thing on Ward’s mind, he’d bet the same was true of her. This was about an actual visit to the nutcase.

  “If I go in, I’m taking a gun, then spraying the guy’s brains against the wall.” Sounded like a good plan to Ward, which was why he said it.

  Harlan shook his head. “You can’t see him. He’s playing a game and it will give him what he wants.”

  “He has valuable intel.” And there it was. Tasha’s point.

  When Pearce turned, he didn’t do it half-assed. He went right to the one man every intelligence asset hunted. From Mossad to MI6 to the CIA—every country—wanted a man known as Benton. A man with a hand in everything. Tentacles everywhere. He traded in weapons and lives. He set up an auction for the toxin that Pearce had tried to use to kill everyone in Liberty Crossing.

  Alliance brought Pearce down and grabbed the toxin before its widespread release. It qualified as a huge win, but they never got close to Benton. No one ever did. He continued to hide. And every single member of Alliance vowed to bring him down.

  But Ward couldn’t tackle that today. He had men on the ground and an operation to handle. “Yeah, well, I have other things to worry about. Like, four agents running loose in Pakistan.”

  Satellite images of Skardu and the surrounding areas continued to flash on the screens on the wall. The analysis of the intel didn’t stop even though verbal contact was on hold.

  “All good points.” Tasha watched the monitors. “Go see Pearce.”

  “Ward’s right.” Harlan said. “The timing doesn’t make sense.”

  “You’re not in charge. I am.” She stopped shuffling around and glanced at Ward. “So, go.”

  He knew better than to challenge that tone. “Yes, ma’am.”

  With a nod, she walked away. Went right up to the computer techs and loomed over their shoulders. She had them pointing and explaining and typing.

  Harlan swore under his breath, all British and proper but still effective. “Do you ever get tired of her bossing you around?”

  Now there was an easy question and Ward didn’t hesitate. “Never.”

  They circled around. Quickened their pace then slowed it down. Doubled back. Even stopped while West covered their tracks. A trip that would have taken fifteen minutes by foot if they walked in a straight line lasted a hour.

  Lexi could walk for miles in heat or cold. Being on the road with her father since she was a kid, she’d learned to adapt. She didn’t collect things. She didn’t demand certain foods or special treatment. She was grateful and tried not to complain. But the circling thing made her dizzy . . . and a little bit worried they were wasting time that could be spent running away.

  That would teach her to go for a walk with an undercover agent . . . or whatever West was.

  She guided him down the path to the small one-story building tucked into a grouping of trees. The beige of the walls matched the landscape around it. The place blended in. That was the point. West said he needed safe and quiet. This place should meet the criteria.

  “This is it.” More of a statement than a question. Nothing in West’s tone gave away his mood.

  He could be happy or pissed off. She was beginning to think those emotions looked and sounded the same on him. Despite being shot at, taking down Raheel in front of her, and engaging in that winding covert walk here, West’s affect never changed. He stayed on task and determined. Exactly what you wanted in a makeshift bodyguard—focus.

  While he scanned the surroundings and what could be hiding behind rocks and in trees, she studied him. The firm jawline and massive shoulders. There was nothing pretty about him, but he was compelling. The way he handled the weapon helped, completely in command and ready to kill if needed.

  That last part should scare the shit out of her. Her last boyfriend was a botany professor. Nice guy but not exactly a laugh riot at parties. He viewed the outdoors as work and defined date nights as dinner in. Not exciting but safe.

  She blinked a few times, trying to block out the pounding need to have West strip off that shirt. Adrenaline was kicking her ass and making her reckless. He already viewed her as a wild card. Had basically said so. Now he needed to see that she could handle this life, because she had no intention of abandoning the clinic.

  Gravel crunched under his boot as he turned to face her. “Now you decide to be quiet?”

  She had no idea what that meant. “What?”

  “You’re staring at me.”

  Rather than respond to that, she jumped right into the explanation. “Javed told me to come here if I ever got in trouble.”

  “That response raises more questions than it answers.”

  This guy liked to fight about everything. “How would you like me to construct the sentence?”

  He exhaled. Not short and not quiet. More like a get-your-act-together exhale. “Who is Javed?”

  She guessed her friend’s last name mattered for some reason. “Javed Gul.”

  “Keep explaining.”

  That attitude was starting to get problematic. Made her want to kick him, and it probably wasn’t a good idea to nail him in the thigh while he held the gun. “Javed works with Raheel, the guy you took down earlier, which now feels like months ago.”

  “Not even close.”

  It would help their communication if West didn’t take her so literally sometimes. “What was with the covert craziness getting here? I told you no one knows about this place.”

  His eyebrow lifted. “You’re alive, aren’t you?”

  Talk about dramatic. “Was there a possibility I wouldn’t be?”

  With a hand on her elbow, he dragged her off the hard-to-see path and closer to the side of the house. “Why the hell did you bring us here?”

  “I just told you.” She was not a fan of the manhandling. Or the way he talked to her. “And do not swear at me.”

  “You’ve got to be kidding.” His eyes bugged out. “I’ve heard you swear.”

  The list of things he did that annoyed her grew with each passing second. She shrugged out of his hold and faced him. “Not at you. And for the record, you’re warning when I first picked you as my bodyguard wasn’t strong enough. You’re more than difficult.”

  This time he went with an inhale. She could visibly see him bring his body under control. His shoulders rose and then fell. The harsh lines around his mouth eased. He even lowered the gun . . . a little.

  “Okay.” His voice continued to sound strained. Maybe even more so. “Tell me why you think this is a smart place for us to be.”

  “Much better.” She treated him to a smile, hoping that might calm whatever seemed to be zipping around inside of him. “Thank you for not being an asshole.”

  “Don’t get used to it.”

  She decided to ignore the snap in his voice. With this guy she had to ignore a lot in order to keep a massive headache at bay. “Javed is part of the Fearless Five.” When West didn’t say anything, she tried a little more information. “Do you know who they are?’

  “Yes.”
/>   That seemed pretty clear. “We met when he brought some climbers to the clinic. He and my dad are close and—”

  West held up a hand. “You’re with him. I get it.”

  That made one of them. “With?”

  “Sleeping with.”

  This guy could make conclusion jumping into an Olympic sport. “Women and men can be friends without sleeping together.”

  This time West screwed up his mouth in a way that telegraphed how seriously he took her comment—not very. “Let’s not get into that debate.”

  She was starting to see why she gravitated toward botanist, researcher, studious types. They didn’t argue her to death. “Fine.”

  “So, Raheel and Javed are both Fearless Five.”

  “Yes. I told Javed what I saw. About the trucks.” West returned to the staring thing. The standing there and not talking. It made her twitchy. “You know what I mean, right? The reason you’re here.”

  If possible, his eyes narrowed even further. “Spell it out.”

  That set off an alarm bell ringing inside her. “Should I be worried you don’t know?”

  He shook his head as he dragged her around the side of the house and out of sight of anyone who might wander by, which should be no one. This was not the kind of town where people broke into the home of a Pakistani army pilot. Not unless he did something very wrong and not if they wanted to live.

  “You saw weapons being moved. Caravans, late at night, headed toward the base of the mountains.” West delivered the explanation as he continued his not-so-subtle surveillance. He looked in windows and scanned the horizon.

  Night had fallen. Skardu suffered from a severe electricity shortage. Plans were under way for a massive project, but those would not be completed for years, which meant relying on generators and limited spurts of power. In their case, the light from the gray sky and flashlights.

  She could only see his face now because he stood inches away and held a light. Not big. Just a round disk, and when he clicked it, it lit up the small area around him. She’d never seen anything like it before.

  Figured he had one. She’d bet he had a rocket launcher in those pants pockets somewhere. He struck her as being prepared for anything, except maybe her.

  “At first you thought it was Pakistani movement on the Siachen Glacier, but you—being reckless—followed and saw stockpiles of weapons and an encampment. Things that shouldn’t be there.” He wasn’t listing off direct quotes, but close.

  Impressive in a freaky kind of way. But she would not let him see that the realization set off a flurry of anxiety deep in her belly. “Do you even need me for this conversation?”

  “Probably not.”

  “I assume all of that was in a file in a building somewhere.” Part of her wanted to know what was in that thing now. The other part wanted to be indignant and ticked off that a file even existed. That part answered him. “Good to know you can read.”

  “You should be more concerned with my ability to shoot.”

  She rested her back against the side of the house as he kicked at the ground and took out a small black disk. “I’m guessing you’re an expert in that area.”

  “Yes.” The disk popped up, opening a few inches until it looked like a jeweler’s magnifying glass. He put it up to his eye and shifted in a circle, watching the world through this lens.

  She wanted to ask what he was doing. She really did, but she had so many questions that she jumped to one of the most obvious to make sure she covered it. “You’re not going to qualify that by saying you only kill bad guys?”

  West stilled for a second, then continued. “Nope.”

  “I’m guessing your entire team shares these skills.”

  “We’re all trained. All have different areas of expertise. One guy likes to blow things up. This is mine.”

  He always said just enough to get her interested and listening, then he stopped. “You mean shooting?”

  “Shooting, tracking, sneaking up on people.”

  Sneaking? “But you’re so big.”

  “It’s not about size, though I do use that to intimidate people.” He shrugged. “Bottom line, I’m the one who goes in first whether I’m taking on one or twenty. I don’t hesitate because that’s my role on the team. First in. Take out hostiles and provide covering fire.”

  And she sensed he liked it. Maybe it had something to do with the Marine mentality. “The others hesitate?”

  “They’re good.” West dropped his hand and looked at her. “I’m better.”

  Something thudded inside of her. It was as if her insides were running at high speed and slammed into a rock wall, leaving her breathless and a little dizzy. “I’m not sure what to say to that.”

  He flattened the monocle and tucked it into one of his pockets. “I need the location.”

  She didn’t pretend not to follow the thread. She knew what he needed and where the encampment sat, but that was her leverage. The only bit she had. “Not yet.”

  “We’re not negotiating, Lexi.”

  For once they actually agreed on something. “Right.”

  He aimed the light straight at her. “I’m serious.”

  She knocked it away again. “Do I not look serious?”

  “It’s very tempting to leave you here and head out on my own.”

  With her hands folded behind her, she pressed her palms against the building. The coolness of the wall seeped into her skin. “I have to take you there. You’ll never find it without me.”

  “Your faith in my skills is heartwarming.”

  “Which direction are you going to try first?”

  He shrugged. “I’ll make an educated guess.”

  “I go or you don’t get the information you need to quickly figure this out and then leave Pakistan before the government here realizes there’s a spy hanging around.”

  He frowned at her, which he seemed to be doing with increasing frequency. “We don’t use the word spy.”

  “Maybe you don’t but they will.”

  He shifted his weight, moving in until he almost stood on top of her. “You understand that interrogation is one of my skills.”

  “You mean torture.” A shiver raced through her as she said the word. It was a touchy subject in this area of the world. A lot of nasty history took place in and around here. People in town whispered about what happened when men disappeared. She tried to stay neutral and focus on health issues only. For the most part that worked, but she got questioning looks now and then.

  “You are going to give me the data. When we rendezvous with Josiah and the rest of my team, you will be taken to Islamabad, then to Germany for rendition, then—”

  “Do you think I don’t know what rendition means? I’m not a terrorist.” She’d just about had it with the mumbling threats. “And none of that is going to happen.”

  West shrugged. “Start with the location and I’ll see what I can do.”

  He acted as if she was the bad guy here. Never mind that she was the one to call the problem in. Without her reporting, he would not be here. The way she saw it, he owed her. “Stop threatening me.”

  “Stop fighting me.”

  “Sorry to disappoint you.” She tried to call up fear but didn’t feel it. Not toward him, regardless of what he said. His strength could break her in half, but something in her sensed he was there to protect her, not hurt her. “I’m not afraid of you.”

  The corner of his mouth kicked up. “You should be.”

  5

  THE STEEL clanked as the pressure lock rods released and the vault door leading to the open area in front of Pearce’s cell opened. He stood at the side of his bed, looking down. Not moving.

  Ward guessed this was some sort of power play. If so, Pearce would be going it alone. Ward had no interest in giving the guy one more ounce of attention than he had to, which was already more than Pearce deserved.

  Ignoring the chair, Ward moved closer to the clear . . . was that plastic? Whatever covered the openin
g, it allowed him to see Pearce yet kept the asshole locked in there. Well, that and the armed guards who watched over the underground cells beneath the nondescript beige building on the Liberty Crossing campus.

  Since he wanted to talk then leave, and do it fast, Ward started. “What do you want?”

  With deliberate, almost aching slowness, Pearce lifted his head. Then a smile spread across his lips. “Is that any way to greet an old friend?”

  One of Pearce’s assignment covers set him up as a professor at a university in Germany. Even beneath the scruffy beard and lose gray pants, he maintained the academic look. Bright blue eyes and what Tasha described as an objective smart-guy attractiveness that had fooled so many people over the years, Ward included. He hated Pearce for that reason alone.

  “I should kill you.” Ward swore if he could do it and walk out of the building without trouble, he would. Didn’t matter that the guards took his weapons and made him all but strip down before walking in the vault. He could choke this motherfucker and not have to beat back one second of guilt.

  “You won’t.” Pearce stood straight with his hands linked behind his back. “You couldn’t before and your pretty little girlfriend would get angry with you if you tried it now.”

  “You think that kind of talk will piss me off?” Ward took good-natured shit from the men on a daily basis about loving Tasha. Did not have any impact. He knew who he was and accepted that in many ways she was tougher than he ever was . . . and that was saying something. “You’re going to need to try harder.”

  Pearce’s head tilted to the side. His glasses slid on his nose but he didn’t make a move to push them up again. “I can’t figure you out. All rah-rah and supporting the team. Is it because you can’t lift a gun anymore? Such a terrible injury.”

  This was so amateur the shots bounced right off. “Want to see what I can do to you with this chair?”

  He’d been injured in Fiji and left the field. No secret there and no regrets, since he was on the job and watching out for Tasha at the time. But Pearce knew that, so Ward waited. Whatever Pearce really wanted to say would come out soon enough. Ward just had to be patient, and he could call up a mountain of that if it meant beating Pearce at his game.