Nick had no such inclination as he disarmed the unconscious guard. "I promise I didn't see a thing. But if I had, I'm sure I wouldn't have been able to move or speak, either." He winked at her before shoving the guard's p.r.o.ne body into one of the partially empty closets.

Sa.s.sy shook her head, but she was smiling, too, even as her blush deepened. "You're both nuts. But I'm awfully glad you're here, even if you are crazy. How did you find me?" She directed the question to Nick. Apparently, she wasn't speaking to Bryan anymore.

"It's complicated. Let's just say Bear Bennett is incredibly resourceful, and we all should buy lottery tickets when this is over."

She c.o.c.ked her head. "I don't understand."

"You weren't in the southeast corner, but he hacked the system from three hundred miles away, and that's pretty d.a.m.n good," explained Nick.

"I still don't-"

"It doesn't matter," interrupted Bryan. "Get dressed so we can get you out of here."

She started to nod, then furrowed her brow instead. "No. If I leave before giving Johnson this story, he will undo a deal that was made to get Trey out of jail."

As she explained the situation, Bryan glanced at Nick. Hearing Sa.s.sy tell what Johnson wanted her to do with her story-blaming AEGIS for everything-made it clear that Johnson thought he was above the law. There was only one thing to be done. The one thing he and Nick were both very good at: tracking and eliminating targets.

Ford Johnson wasn't going to get the chance to undo anything. He was going down, tonight. And while there was no way Nick Donovan would be willing to walk away without going after Johnson, Bryan wasn't taking Sa.s.sy along for the ride while he and Nick searched the compound and took care of the man.

Bryan was confident that between the two of them, he and Nick could keep Sa.s.sy safe, but this was about not wanting her to see what they were going to do. Because Ford Johnson wasn't going to be arrested or taken into custody. They were way beyond that.

"A pilot is waiting in a float plane on the other side of the lake. Ready to fly over here and scoop us up as soon as I make the call. Let me get him here now to pick you up, while Nick and I look for Johnson."

Even before Bryan finished speaking, Sa.s.sy was shaking her head. "No way. You're not leaving me behind."

Bryan hadn't really thought that would work, but he had to try. "Be realistic. You're not at a hundred percent. You've been in a serious car accident." Going for guilt might be the only way to handle her. "If we're worried about keeping you safe, we won't be able to do this."

"So quit worrying about me. I'll be fine." The stubborn set of her chin concerned him. She wasn't budging.

Nick shook his head and spoke up. "We don't have time to argue about this. Sa.s.sy, stay here and keep the room clear for us. Hollywood and I'll be coming back this direction. It's the only way out on this side of the house that doesn't set off every alarm in the place. Leave the balcony open for now. We don't know what is hooked up where, and I don't want to set off anything accidentally."

Surprisingly, she was listening as Nick gave orders, and the mutinous expression she'd worn earlier began to fade. "Johnson said he'd be back here by eight o'clock to get the story."

"Then that gives us our timetable. Look at the clock. It's seven fifteen now. If we're not back in twenty minutes, go out the window and down the rope off the balcony. Make your way to the sh.o.r.eline, but on the opposite side of the island from the dock of this complex. If the pilot hasn't heard from us, he'll be there on the opposite side of the island by eight thirty."

With Nick giving the orders instead of Bryan, she was much more amenable to cooperating. Bryan tried not to be irritated.

Nick handed her the downed guard's handgun and a small flashlight. "Keep an eye on this guy. It'll probably be easier to just conk him in the head again if he comes to. I saw you do it in Africa with one of your shoes, so I know you're more than capable."

She gave him a grim smile and shivered. "Right." Clad in only a towel with the winter breeze gusting through the open balcony door off the water, she had to be freezing.

Bryan offered the only advice he thought she'd take from him. "Get dressed and be ready to go. We'll be moving fast when we get back."

"What are you going to do?" she asked and surprised him by reaching for his arm.

He put his hand over her chilled fingers and took a moment to meet her gaze before giving her palm a squeeze. Still, he kept his answer brusque. He couldn't sugarcoat this. "Come on, Sa.s.sy, you're a reporter. Use your imagination."

Chapter Twenty-seven.

December 30 Evening Sa.s.sY'S TEETH WERE chattering by the time Bryan and Nick left. She locked the bedroom door behind them and went into the bathroom to slip on the sweatpants and T-shirt that had been brought to her, along with the sweater she'd been wearing in the car accident. If she was going outside, this would be all about layering. She slid on the dirty socks she'd taken off before her shower and the boots she'd been wearing earlier. She looked around to see if she could find any other kind of jacket in the closet.

The guard was still out cold. She was relieved she didn't have to deal with him, even though she knew she could if it came to that. She found a long woolen scarf in the closet, some oversized gloves, a beanie hat, and an empty cloth messenger bag. Another gust of wind blew through the open balcony door. As she stuffed the gear in the messenger bag and slung it across her body, she wondered how long she might have to wait in the woods or out on the water for rescue. Feeling nervous, she wasn't sure what to do with herself. She checked on the unconscious guard again, then glanced at the clock and went back to the bathroom to brush her teeth. Bryan and Nick had been gone thirteen minutes. She had seven minutes left until she would need to make her way out by herself.

Nick had mentioned climbing down from up here. She didn't want to think about having to do that on her own, but she needed to explore the possibility, so she walked out onto the redwood balcony. From the deck area she could see much farther than she had from inside. Johnson's home was extensive.

A pile of coiled rope lay on the boards. Her stomach churned, but she forced herself to look at the braided nylon. One end of the rope was tied to the railing. Beside the rope was a climbing harness that she recognized as rappelling equipment. She'd tried to rappel. Once. For a story she'd been working on. She had a lovely scar on her ankle to show for it, too.

She sincerely hoped she didn't have to use any of that equipment by herself. To take her mind off the possibility of climbing down that rope and revisiting her fear of heights, she looked out over the well-lit property.

There were two outbuildings between the main house and what she a.s.sumed must be the sh.o.r.eline. The outbuildings were connected with an illuminated walkway between them. Elaborate, well-lit paths led from both sides of the main house through the trees down to those same outbuildings, and one larger path curved and wound around from the front door of the main house down to the sh.o.r.eline.

As she stood taking it all in, a figure exited the outbuilding closest to her and started up the side walkway. Deeply involved in conversation on what appeared to be some kind of two-way radio, there was no stealth in the man's movements as he headed for the side door of the main house. He had no idea anyone was up here watching.

But standing on the balcony, Sa.s.sy was silhouetted by the light in the room behind her. She dropped to her belly on the deck and scootched into the shadows as best she could. The balcony door was wide open. If the man looked up, he would be able to see that. Thankfully he was much too involved in his conversation. He was going to pa.s.s right beneath her and go directly inside.

"Yes, sir. I've rigged all the buildings except the boathouse, Mr. Johnson. They'll blow simultaneously. I'm on my way to get the computer and Donald. The men from AEGIS should be here soon. The remote trigger you have is now live. Are you sure there's no way to salvage the house?"

There was another pause. What was going on? How did they know about Bryan and Nick?

"I understand. It's just . . . it's a pity. It's a lovely place."

The man had stopped walking and was now directly underneath her. If he looked up, he would see her staring straight down at him through the boards. She lay perfectly still and strained to hear what he would say next.

"Yes, I understand. I'll make sure of it. It will look like a gas leak. I'll get the computer, take care of the girl, and gather your papers before I meet you on the dock. The remote will work up to a mile away."

Sa.s.sy didn't move. The house was set to explode? Did they know Nick and Bryan were already here? Who had set them up? The only thing she knew for certain was that Johnson was at the dock with a live remote trigger.

She had to warn Bryan and Nick, but she was stuck on the balcony until the man moved out from under it. And she wouldn't have much time, because he was on his way upstairs to get the computer from her. She glanced at the coiled rope. G.o.d, she was going to have to do this.

Finally he moved inside. She lay still a moment, waiting until she heard the door close beneath her before scrambling to her feet. Racing to the bed, she grabbed the computer and stuffed it into the bag, replacing the gloves and scarf. There was no way she was leaving that story behind.

She stared at the rope like it was a snake. How fast could she get down that thing? And where should she go when she reached the bottom? After Johnson, or after Nick and Bryan?

She tossed the rope over the balcony and took a deep breath. She could do this. After clipping herself into the harness, she attached the carabiner to the rope. G.o.d, she was sweating like it was high noon in August, and it was only thirty degrees out.

She swung her leg over the balcony next to the wall, straddling it for a moment, getting used to the weight of the bag and the feel of the harness. She'd done this before. Plus, she'd read extensively on the subject so she could finish that d.a.m.n story, after she'd hurt her ankle. How bad could it be?

She swung her other leg over and looked down, possibly a huge mistake. If she fell, she'd doubtless break . . . something. Don't think about that.

She had to do this. The guard would be in the room any second. She squeezed her eyes shut, put one foot at a time on the wall beside the balcony, and took the first step back.

Ten seconds later she hit the mulched flowerbed with a m.u.f.fled humph. Relief flooded her system as she looked up at the rope dangling from the railing. She'd done it, and she'd survived.

There was no way to hide her escape route. The guard would know AEGIS was there as soon as he saw the rope. But he'd still need to get her computer before his boss could blow the house.

Stopping Johnson before he did anything with that trigger was foremost in her mind. She unsnapped from the harness, dusted herself off, and ran.

BRYAN AND NICK were on the first floor and having no luck. The place was empty. Where were the guards?

Bryan had that funny p.r.i.c.kly feeling on the back of his neck, like something was about to go t.i.ts up in a big way. This place should have had more security. Where was everyone?

They'd searched the entire second story and every room except the kitchen on the first. It wasn't just dumb luck that they weren't encountering any kind of resistance. Something was bad wrong.

Bryan had the overwhelming urge to go back upstairs and check on Sa.s.sy. He'd learned enough over the years not to ignore that gut instinct.

"Nick, this doesn't feel right. I'm going back to get Sa.s.sy."

"I'll check the kitchen and meet you down by the lake in ten."

Bryan nodded and headed for the second floor, flattening himself against a wall as he heard a door to his right open. Finally. It was a guard tucking a radio into his pocket.

The guard walked up the steps Bryan had been planning to use and headed straight for Sa.s.sy's room. When the guard closed the door behind him, the final sound of a lock sliding into place had Bryan sprinting after him. All he had was the element of surprise.

Without hesitation, Bryan threw himself against the door, breaking the lock and knocking the guard to the floor. Where was Sa.s.sy? He wrestled the man on the ground, and they rolled onto the balcony through the open gla.s.s door.

Sa.s.sy was nowhere to be seen, and Bryan wondered briefly if she'd given up waiting and had gone over the side of the balcony the same way he and Nick had gotten in. She'd freeze to death if she didn't have any more clothes on than he'd seen her in earlier.

He saw the flash of a knife and felt a sharp stinging pain as the guard got a good swipe in. Bryan was about to get himself killed if he didn't focus. He threw a punch and caught the guy on the side of the head. The man's grip on the knife loosened. The metal handle made a distinctive sound as it skittered across the boards and over the side of the balcony. The guard followed the movement with his eyes, and Bryan hit him again, knocking him out cold.

Bryan stood and studied his shoulder where he'd been cut. He was bleeding, but he was pretty sure the guard hadn't hit anything vital.

He scanned the room. Sa.s.sy was plainly not here. He looked out over the top of the balcony and saw a small figure rushing down the path toward the water. It was Sa.s.sy, but what was she doing?

She was headed for the dock. Big surprise. She was not going through the woods like Nick had asked her to and like Bryan would have expected her to, if she was meeting them on the opposite side of the island. Where the h.e.l.l was she headed?

The guard's radio squawked. "I've got movement on the path. What's going on up there? I need you to get one more thing from my office before we blow the buildings."

Blow the buildings? s.h.i.t! Who did he go after? Nick or Sa.s.sy?

Dammit. There was no choice. Sa.s.sy wasn't inside. Nick was. Bryan turned from the balcony and ran for the stairs.

He found Nick in the office going through file folders and papers on what had to be Johnson's desk.

"You won't believe what I've found." He held up a handful of manila folders. "h.e.l.l, it's all here. These files go back years. The cartels, the trafficking. There's even something with Dad's name on it. But I don't understand why Johnson left it all out like this. Something's seriously f.u.c.ked."

Bryan longed to stop and see if there was anything about Afghanistan and his team in the Helmand Province, but they were out of time. "Nick, we gotta get out of here. Now! The place is rigged to blow."

"What?" Nick clutched several folders and glanced longingly at the others on the desk for a split second before joining Bryan to head for the exit. "Where's Sa.s.sy?" he asked, stuffing the files inside his shirt.

"She's headed for the lake. I saw her upstairs from the balcony of the bedroom." Bryan explained what he'd overhead on the two-way radio as they sprinted for the front door.

Sa.s.sY HUSTLED ALONG the path with the messenger bag banging into her hip, wondering if she was making the biggest mistake of her life. She wasn't sure she could have gotten past the guard downstairs to find Nick and Bryan without alerting Johnson that something was up, so this seemed the best plan.

Johnson wouldn't blow his house up with the news story he wanted still inside, would he? Although what she'd do when she got to the lake, she had no idea. Distracting him seemed like the obvious choice.

Once she got past the outbuildings, the main path to the lake was curvy, and some places were better lit than others. She rounded a particularly dark corner, and suddenly there was the boathouse and dock. She skidded to a halt and stepped off the path.

Johnson stood at the end of the pier. She recognized him because the light caught his silver hair and the glint off his gla.s.ses. How could she divert his attention without him setting everything off?

He had that remote trigger somewhere that would blow up the house and outbuildings, along with Nick and Bryan. That was exactly how he'd planned to take care of his loose ends after she got his story written-all in one big, not-so-tidy package.

The guard up at the house would be wondering what was going on by now. What should she do? Go back for Nick and Bryan? She crouched beside a tree, frozen in indecision.

Johnson was prepping a boat. She wasn't sure how long he'd wait for Donald and the other guard, but she got the feeling Ford Johnson was not a patient boss. He tossed a bag into the craft and lifted a walkie-talkie to his lips. His voice carried, and she heard the anger in his tone.

"Where are you, dammit? We need to be gone. Now."

The radio remained silent. Johnson stood in the middle of the dock, peering through the shadows toward the house. Sa.s.sy shrunk back further into the darkness.

"s.h.i.t." He reached into his jacket and pulled a device from his pocket. It was the size of a cell phone. He walked up the path, staring into the night before heading back to the dock.

Oh G.o.d, was that the remote control? How horribly had she miscalculated? She should have found Bryan and Nick before coming this way. Was he going to blow the house with them still inside?

Johnson held the walkie-talkie in one hand and stood in the middle of the pier, holding the other device at an odd angle.

"No," Sa.s.sy cried, rushing from her hiding place. Johnson looked up in surprise as she ran toward him. He dropped the walkie-talkie and pulled a gun from his waistband with one hand, still holding onto the cell-phone-like trigger with the other.

Behind her, she heard a huge rumbling. The ground shuddered beneath her feet. Johnson was aiming the handgun as she tackled him. She heard a shot as together they went off the side of the pier into the icy water.

Chapter Twenty-eight.

SEARING PAIN TORE along her hip as water went up her nose. Sa.s.sy struggled to stay afloat while pushing down on Johnson at the same time.

No! He'd detonated the explosion. Were Bryan and Nick out of the house or inside when it went off?

Johnson wrenched an arm behind her. His hand was on her head, pressing downward. The messenger bag filled with water, pulling her under. The water was deep. She kicked with the leg that wasn't feeling so numb, but the pressure in her lungs built as her body began to crave oxygen.

She needed air, now.

G.o.d, she was drowning. She'd calculated everything wrong, going off on her own.

She kept kicking with the one leg but made no progress. She wasn't going to make it. Her headache from earlier was back with a vengeance, and her vision began to waver when she heard what sounded like firecrackers exploding.