Iris Johansen - Deadlock

"No!"

She heard him mutter a curse as she dove for the weapon. An agonizing pain shot through the back of her neck. Darkness.

THE BLOOD WAS RUSHING TO her head.

She was being carried in a fireman's lift, she realized dazedly. Garrett…

She started to struggle. "Let me down."

"Stop struggling, or I'll drop you on your head. I'm having enough trouble."

"The hell I will." She spaced the words slowly and with precise venom. "Let-Me-Down."

"Fine." He dropped her in a heap on the veranda. "Walk. Hurry. Get moving. And if you try to run away, I'll deck you again."

He would do it. His eyes were blazing in his taut face. "You're an¬gry. Good. Then go away. This is none of your business. I don't need you anymore."

"You're my business." He jerked her to her feet. "And I need you. So shut up and do what I tell you." "I don't-"

"Listen to me," he said harshly. "I made a choice. I knew I might be serving you up to Staunton, and I still made it. But I'm not going to let him win this round. No way."

"I'm the one who-"

"No more talk." He spun her around to face the beach below. "Take one look and see what we're facing and then we go."

"I have to-" She broke off again as she saw that the helicopter had landed on the beach, and men were pouring out of the belly of the aircraft. Staunton was on the beach and directing his forces. Even from this distance she couldn't mistake his lean frame. She couldn't take her eyes away from him. She whispered. "There he is."

"I gathered that," Garrett said. "Now think, dammit. Do we stand here and let him take us, or get out of here and live to fight again?"

Some of Staunton's men were running toward the hospital. Staunton himself was standing, head lifted, staring up at Garrett's house. She doubted if he could see her standing in the shadows cast by the house, but she was starting to shake. No, don't let him do that to you, she thought.

Staunton was gesturing, pointing, then started up the path. "Emily."

"You go. I can't run from him."

"And I can't go without you. So whatever threat he is to you, goes for me, too. What happens is going to be your responsibility." Joel.

She closed her eyes. "Don't say that."

"I'll say anything I have to say. From now on, the gloves are off."

And whether he said it or not, the truth was evident. Responsibil¬ity. Guilt. Blame. It was happening again.

But she couldn't let it happen again.

She turned away. "Let's go. Get me out of here."

"At last." He grabbed her hand and pulled her toward the path that led around the house. "Run!"

Five minutes later they were at the concrete pad on the other side of the island.

"Get in." Garrett opened the passenger door. "I won't turn on the lights until we're on our way. Staunton should be right behind us. With any luck, he'll be delayed searching the house."

"It's Staunton who seems to have all the luck." She jumped into the helicopter. "Get out of here. I don't want him shooting you."

"Neither do I." Garrett started the engines and the rotors whirred. "But it may happen. I see lights on the hillside."

So did Emily. Men running toward the helicopter pad, flashlights beaming in the darkness. Was one of them Staunton?

Garrett glanced back at the house. "Here we go." The helicopter lifted off the pad. "We're almost-"

A bullet shattered the glass beside her!

"Shit." He spun the helicopter away from the direction of the house. "Keep low."

But Garrett couldn't keep low, she thought desperately. Another bullet struck the fuselage of the aircraft. "We'll be out of range in a minute," Garrett said as they climbed higher. "If they don't get the gas tank." "Comforting thought."

"I told you, the gloves are off." Garrett gazed down at the men milling below them. "Is that Staunton looking up at us?" A shock of fair hair, long, lean body. "Yes."

"Then they won't try for the gas tank. Staunton doesn't want you dead." He veered away from the island. "Though he wouldn't mind me getting deep-sixed. I guess we have to be grateful for small-"

His telephone rang.

"I'd bet Staunton wants to vent his displeasure." He turned up the volume as he punched the button. "Garrett." "I want to talk to Emily," Staunton said.

"She may not want to talk to you." He gazed inquiringly at Emily.

She slowly reached out her hand and took the phone. "What do you want to say, Staunton?"

"I just wanted to hear your voice. I've missed you. I've never been as intimate with anyone as I was with you. But we never took that final step. You ran away too soon. Garrett took you away, and I was very an¬gry about that. But now I've found you, and everything will work out."

"I'm going to kill you, Staunton."

"Really? But I notice you're the one on the run."

"And I notice that you failed to get your hands on me again, even though you seem to have brought in your own Delta Force."

"But it was very close. And I won't let it be a complete failure. I can't touch you right now, but I made Garrett a promise. I've been told he seems to have some involvement with that hospital on the beach. Thirty seconds."

"What are you going to-"

Fire stroked upward into the dark sky as the hospital exploded.

Emily stared in horror down at the roaring inferno below. "Why?"

"The hospital was empty. I was disappointed. Destroying things isn't very satisfying, but I take what I can get. I believe you're still close enough to see Garrett's house. It will be much more noticeable shortly. I've ordered it torched. I'm hanging up now. I look forward to seeing you soon, Emily."

She was barely aware of hanging up the phone as she gazed down at the island. "Did you hear? He's torching your house."

"I heard," Garrett banked the helicopter to the left. "But we're not sticking around to watch his fun."

She could already see flames curling inside the house on the hill. The windows were glowing balefully as the fire devoured it. "I'm sorry. I should never have stayed with you after you got me out of the mountains. He might not have-"

"Shut up. It was my choice." He didn't look at her. "And you al¬ways have to take responsibility for your choices."

"Irana's hospital…"

"I'll build her another one." His lips tightened. "Not here. Not now. Not until I kill the bastard. He was too disappointed that he couldn't chalk up any body counts."

"She loves this island."

He was silent a moment. "So do I."

And she had taken this place away from both of them.

But only while Staunton still lived.

"I want you to take me to Athens and-"

"Let you go after Staunton on your own," he finished for her. "No way."

"You have Irana and your own life to protect. Look what happened here."

"I almost got you killed. Staunton wouldn't even have known you were on this island if I'd done what I should have done when he phoned me.

She frowned in puzzlement. "What you should have done?" "Hung up. I had a hunch he was tracking me. I took a chance be¬cause I wanted a few more minutes to try to negotiate." "Negotiate what?" He didn't answer.

"Answer me." She was staring at his closed expression. "I know about Staunton's negotiations." She was thinking, trying to put it to¬gether. "How did Staunton find out that you were the one who helped me? How did he get the phone number to call you?" But he didn't have to reply. She was remembering that moment outside the camp. The young man with the warm, comforting smile. "Your friend. The man who helped you to find me. His name is… Karif?"

"His name was Karif Barouk."

Past tense. She felt sick. "He's dead?"

"Yes."

"Staunton?" "Yes."

"Why didn't you tell me?"

"Why should I? I knew you'd react the way you are now. You're feeling guilty as hell about the hospital and my house being destroyed. It was Staunton who should feel guilty, not you. As for Karif…" He paused. "I'm the one who asked him to help. I thought if he kept his mouth shut, he'd be safe. Karif was sometimes careless. But a good friend, the best friend."