Carol Ericson - Trap, Secure

That wouldn’t make Gage very happy. He’d be counting on her help once she regained her memory. If she claimed no knowledge of Zendaris’s drug empire, Gage wouldn’t believe her, anyway.

She wasn’t sure he believed her now.

Despite her injuries, the hike through the jungle hadn’t sapped her strength. Gage had stopped a few times for water, and it was enough to carry her through. She seemed to regain strength with each step away from the compound.

“We’re here.” He parted some branches for her, and she peered into a clearing. A helicopter beckoned, promising freedom and maybe an identity.

“You know how to fly this thing?”

“I do.”

“But you’re not U.S. Military.”

“I used to be.”

If he planned to grill her, she planned to give as good as she got. She’d drop it for now and let him concentrate on flying. “Where are we going?”

“First stop is a CIA compound in Panama. There’s a hospital there.”

He was CIA? “Then what?”

He hoisted the bags into the helicopter. “We’ll see.”

She shrugged out of the backpack, and Gage stored that next to the other two bags. Then he helped her into the helicopter and secured her seat belt, his hands lingering near her shoulders.

Had he wanted to touch her? Reassure her? She needed it but she’d ask nothing of him. Getting too close to this man would put her on dangerous ground.

He punched some buttons from the array in front of him and even on the ceiling of the chopper. When the blades started thwacking, she clenched the edge of the seat with clammy hands. The sound caused her insides to twist.

Gage pointed to the headphones hanging in front of her, and she slipped them onto her head. His voice purred intimately into her ears. “Are you okay?”

She nodded and gritted her teeth.

He fiddled with more dials and gadgets, and then flashed her a thumbs-up signal.

Just as the chopper lifted from the ground, a new barrage of noises assailed her. This time Gage swore into her ear, and she jerked her head toward him.

“What’s wrong?”

The helicopter shuddered and lunged into the air as the smell of fuel saturated the cabin. With his jaw clenched, Gage slammed a lever forward and the chopper jumped.

She tried again. “Gage, what’s wrong? What’s happening?”

“Someone’s shooting at us.”

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