Tess Gerritsen - Double Impact

“You are not to concern yourself. I will return for you in twenty-four hours. You have my word.”

Her anxiety crossed a whole new threshold. Before she could demand more answers, his mouth swooped down and captured hers. The heat and insistent pressure of his lips soon banished all other thought. It didn’t matter that they were standing in an empty street in a place where death lurked, especially for a woman, around every corner. There was only him and the way he kissed her, as savagely as a starving barbarian and yet with all the infinite finesse of a masterful lover.

It had to be the last time.

Ami knew at that instant that if she didn’t go now-today-she would never be able to leave him without telling him the truth.

The whole truth.

IN THE HOTEL, Ami relaxed on the bed, feigning interest in a French magazine. Michal had ordered issues of every fashion and beauty magazine available from the little tourist shop across the street, for the good it did since she didn’t know any of the languages. In their former life together she must have been multilingual, though she couldn’t imagine it now. Somehow, there had to be a mistake. Yes, she dreamed of him…or someone like him. Before Michal had yanked her into his world, she’d only sensed what the man in her dreams looked like. It wasn’t beyond the scope of reason that she might have subconsciously superimposed his image into her dreams after the abduction. In fact, if Robert were here, he would insist that was precisely the answer to her current dilemma.

She couldn’t possibly be this Amira Peres that Michal believed she was, or Jamie Dalton as the CIA insisted. Everything inside her stilled. The Israelis were wrong, as well. They were all wrong. She wasn’t even a shrink and that sounded foolish to her. How could everyone else be wrong?

She shuddered and pushed the unpleasant thoughts away. It was almost time. She glanced around the room, noting the serving cart that room service had delivered. Michal had ordered the fruit, cheese and wine for her, as well, before he’d left. He wanted her to lack for nothing during his absence. Raoul had consumed most of it at Ami’s urging.

She stole a sidelong look at him now. It had taken all of her persuasive powers to talk him into partaking of the wine. He was on duty, he’d told her over and over. But her persistence had won out. No one knew they were here, she’d argued. Michal would never have left her here were it not completely safe. Raoul had nothing to worry about. He should eat, drink and enjoy his day off.

He had done just that. Now he lit another cigarette causing her nose to wrinkle, drained the bottle into the delicate stemmed glass and then gulped it down just as quickly. She stifled a smile. Why hadn’t he simply turned up the bottle and saved the wear and tear on his wrist pouring the stuff?

She’d plotted her strategy all day. Michal had departed the city shortly before noon to join his men. She didn’t know the rendezvous point or what the mission was, but she had garnered that it would take approximately twenty-four hours. It was almost dark now. Raoul had to have a slight buzz. If she could get out of the room she could hide out on one of the boats. The hotel wasn’t that far from the port. While they had enjoyed that leisurely stroll this morning, Michal had told her that boats arrived and departed from the port at all hours of the day and night. She repressed another shudder when she considered what their cargo might be. She’d have to be extremely careful in her selection or she’d end up in more trouble than she was now.

Her plan didn’t include leaving the country aboard one of the vessels, she only wanted to hide out there until Michal and his men stopped searching for her. She’d noticed one large fishing boat that was under repair, that one surely wouldn’t be going anywhere.

Michal would expect her to flee the city. With that in mind, he and his men would do a quick sweep of the city and then start searching for her beyond that perimeter. She, meanwhile, would leave the boat and take a taxi to the closest embassy. Though she didn’t have any money of her own, Michal had left what appeared to be a sizable tip for the room service waiter. Ami swallowed tightly. She had taken it before the cart arrived. Raoul hadn’t noticed or didn’t care.

Ami had never stolen anything in her life-at least in the part of her life that she remembered. But extreme situations called for desperate measures. This, she concluded gravely, was as extreme as it got.

“I think I’ll take a bath.” She sprang up from the bed and gave Raoul a big smile. “Let me know if anything exciting happens.”

Raoul tamped out his cigarette. “Señora, I fear the only excitement will be in my imagination.” His slow perusal of her body and accompanying wolfish grin told her he was thinking about her naked in that enormous tub.

She kept her smile tacked into place as she headed toward the en suite bath. On second thought, she hesitated at the armoire long enough to take out one of the silky gowns Michal had purchased for her. When she closed the drawer, she made sure a pair of black lacy panties dangled from it. She crossed the room, the gown tossed over her shoulder, and turned on the stereo so that sensuous music drifted from its decades’ old speakers. She had no idea what the words to the song meant, but they sounded sexy enough.

“You don’t mind, do you?” she asked of the man staring openmouthed at her. When she started to unbutton her blouse, his eyes bulged.

Raoul’s harsh intake of breath was indication enough that he would be preoccupied while she pretended to bathe. Belatedly, he shook his head in answer to her question.

“Good.” She crossed the room, taking care to sway her hips provocatively. When she reached the door, she paused. “I’ll be a while,” she purred, gifting him with another wide, teasing smile before she closed and locked the door behind her.

She threw the gown to the floor and quickly turned on the water in the lavish tub. Who would have thought that such elegant amenities would exist in a hotel that hadn’t been renovated in several decades? She remembered then that Michal had mentioned that in the 1960s the place had been a hotel casino. Maybe that was why it was decorated so extravagantly. What had most likely been quite elegant more than forty years ago put a new slant on the phrase “shabby chic.”

It would serve her purpose nicely.

She pushed up her sleeves and, using the cheap stopper, since the original drain mechanism apparently no longer worked, she adjusted the drain to suit her. This would allow the water to escape to an extent but would simultaneously permit the tub to fill enough to create the volume of splashing noise she wanted. The idea was to make sure it was noisy, but didn’t overflow anytime soon.

With that out of the way, she quickly dried her arms and moved to the window. The casing and sashes were old, the latch slightly rusty. But, with effort, she managed to open it. The window wasn’t large, but she could fit through. Since the sashes opened inward she was able to lean fully out through the opening. The room was on the third floor, but she’d already decided on an escape route. An old rusty pipe about six inches in diameter, probably a drainpipe of some sort, was attached to the building’s facade about eighteen to twenty inches from the window. Every few feet there was a raised collar-like section that appeared to connect the lengths of pipe. That would, hopefully, keep her from sliding straight down too fast and injuring herself.

Taking one last look over her shoulder at the closed door, she said a final prayer and climbed out the window. Holding her breath, she swung one arm then one leg over to the pipe. Once she’d locked on tightly with both arms and both legs, she eased up just a little on her grip so that she would slide downward fireman-pole style. The rust bit into her palms like sandpaper, but she ignored it. She had to hold on tightly, ease down just a little at a time.