Jo Leigh - Reckoning

“Oh? How?”

“She figured you were an out-and-out hound dog, but then you turned out to be a gentleman.”

He grunted.

“No, really. She said you made no pretense about not wanting anything serious, but you weren’t only thinking of yourself. She liked you.”

“She dumped me.”

“Doesn’t matter. She thought you were hot.”

“Hot, huh?”

His hand went behind her back and she let him push her forward. He washed her back, then rinsed it, and she just sat there like a lump.

“You want your hair washed?”

She nodded.

“You got it. Now, lean back and close your eyes.”

He dipped her into the warmth, holding her steady. She thought of movies she’d seen of people being baptized. The congregants had worn white robes, but still, it was just like that, and not only because of how he held her. She had lost the last of her innocence tonight. She’d taken a life, had seen her world turn to ashes.

He lifted her back up, and then he did the most amazing thing in the whole world. He poured shampoo in his hands and he washed her hair. So gently, so wonderfully, it was miraculous, life-changing, and he just kept massaging and massaging.

“You like that?”

She made some kind of sound, something in the affirmative vein.

He chuckled and he didn’t stop.

She jerked again, and blinked. She must have fallen asleep.

“Let’s get you rinsed off and put you to bed,” he said.

“Okay,” she mumbled.

She struggled to stay awake while he rinsed the shampoo out of her hair. Then he stood her up and got her out of the tub. Instantly, there was a big fluffy towel around her, and he dried her with the same care.

He led her out of the bath and when they were next to the bed he drew back the covers.

She looked at him. “I don’t have pajamas.”

“It’s okay.”

“You don’t either.”

“That’s okay, too. I’m going to be right over there.” He nodded toward a chair by the window.

“No,” she said. “You’re sleeping with me.”

“Tam—”

She turned to him, took hold of his shirt and met his gaze. “Please?”

He didn’t answer for a second as he searched her eyes. She felt sure he was going to tell her not to be ridiculous, but then he smiled and said, “Sure.”

“Nate?”

“Yeah?”

“Thank you for saving me.”

“You saved yourself.”

Tam shook her head. “No. You’ve saved me every single day since I met you.”

He leaned down and kissed her on the cheek. “Not yet,” he whispered, “but I will. I promise.”

That was good enough for her. She climbed into bed, and fell asleep.

BY THE SECOND HOUR OF the weekly status meeting, CEO Leland Ingram felt a trickle of sweat snake down his neck as he forced a laugh. Senator Jackson Raines had told a joke, a bad one, but there wasn’t a man in the room who didn’t act as if Raines was as funny as Leno.

Ingram admired the senator but he didn’t like the son of a bitch one damn bit. Still, there was no option but for Leland to smile, say the right thing at the right time and do some major ass kissing. That’s just the way it went, and Leland was nothing if not a pragmatic. He might be officially in charge of Omicron’s day-to-day business, but Raines was the guiding force behind its highly secret operation. One that benefited them both.

Raines sat in the king’s chair in the conference room. It was slightly higher, slightly bigger and at the head of the table so everyone else in the meeting would have to look up at him. The decorator who’d done this building and Omicron’s office in Colorado hadn’t understood the necessity of the king’s chair until Leland had explained it to him. Men need to know who’s boss, who has the final say. In this pansy-ass age of political correctness, it wasn’t words that communicated, it was body language, position, the king’s seat.

Raines brought in the money. Therefore, he was the king pin. He’d called the meeting for 7:00 a.m., knowing it would be difficult for the managers to get here so early. When Leland’s secretary had proposed bringing in coffee and Danish, Raines had given an emphatic no. It was all games. Games with damned high stakes.

Leland himself was the Prince Regent and soon the dynamic was going to shift in his favor. Not today. Today there were going to be fireworks. Nonetheless when the shipment went out and Leland put the money in Omicron’s secret offshore account, Raines would have to give Leland his due.

“Thank you, gentlemen,” the senator said, leaning back in his chair.

That’s all that needed to be said. The underlings moved out in an orderly fashion, taking BlackBerrys and PDAs with them, leaving Ingram to hear the private word.

When the door to the conference room closed, Leland prepared by focusing his gaze on the bridge of Raines’s nose. It would appear, from the king’s seat, as if his eyes were slightly downcast, but not subservient. That he might be receiving a dressing-down, but he wasn’t a toady.

“We didn’t get the chemist,” Raines said, his voice muted. “We didn’t get her data. And we lost three men.”

“We found her once, we’ll find her again. We know she’s still in L.A. And we destroyed the lab.”

“You found her and lost her. She could be anywhere by now. And the lab was never the problem.”

“We’re on it.”

“You’re on it?”

That was about fifteen decibels louder. By the end of the conversation, Leland fully expected to hear him roar with rage.

“What the fuck does that mean, you’re on it? Do you know where she is at this moment? Do you know if she’s still connected to that Delta Force bunch? Where’s the soldier who escaped from Colorado? What the hell kind of operation is this, that you can’t find a few grunts and a chemist?”

There it was. The roar. The voice that carried across the senate floor. Now Leland’s gaze moved down a half inch and he let his shoulders sag by the same degree. “Senator, I’ve replaced the man in charge and I believe the new man will have the Delta team within the week.”

“Based on what, exactly?”

“We’re meeting later to go over the details. I’ll give you an update first thing tomorrow.”

“I’d better have answers I can count on, Leland. We cannot have this situation exposed. The American people have a great need for the money we’re bringing in with this weapon. A great need, indeed. I will not disappoint the American people, are we clear?”

“Yes, Senator. Completely.”

“I want that update by seven.”

“Yes, sir.”

Raines leaned back and his posture eased. “Bring me up to speed on the plant.”

This was the part of the meeting Leland had been waiting for. He had no idea how in hell they were going to find the scientist or the soldiers. Eventually, they’d make a mistake and that would be that. Of course, he couldn’t say that to Raines, but he wasn’t too worried. Not yet.

Now, the plant, on the other hand, had exceeded his expectations. Putting it inside the Air Force base had been a stroke of genius, particularly as even the road leading to the perimeter fence was restricted.

Leland felt the same obligation to the citizens of this country as Raines. He wasn’t about to let the godless liberals and pantywaists put his country at risk. This country, his country, would not be subject to terrorism again. Not while he still breathed.

TAMARA’S GASP WOKE NATE from the first sleep he’d had in twenty-two hours, but he was instantly alert. He turned on the bedside lamp to find her eyes were wide open, her mouth, too, and she looked as panicked as a person could be and live through it.

He grabbed her by the shoulders and raised her to a sitting position. When she still didn’t look at him, he shook her gently, then not so gently. Finally, she focused, recognized him. Fell completely apart.