The cabin was small but very tastefully furnished. This wasn't any commercial fishing boat, but someone's vacation toy. The wood was real oak. There was a mini bar in the corner of the cabin. The bed she was sitting on was the size of three bunk beds.

The door across the cabin opened with a click. She recognized the man entering as one of Pierre's bodyguards. She frowned. "Where am I going?" she asked. Couldn't hurt to ask.

The man, as all bodyguards tend to be, was tall and burly. His eyes told her that he wouldn't hesitate to hurt her if she tried anything. Ignoring her question, he pointed to a large mirror and said expressionlessly, "The bathroom is behind the sliding mirror. Your purse is on the night table. We've taken your weapon, of course."

"Well, nothing like makeup to make a girl feel better," Marlena quipped. He had said "weapon." Good. "When do I get to see the big fish?"

The man kept silent, clearly waiting for her to get up. Marlena slowly did so, and was glad she was able to keep her balance this time. She hoped that meant she was feeling better. Catching sight of her purse, she reached for it, aware that the burly bodyguard was watching closely. She slung it over one shoulder and walked toward the sliding door.

She raised her eyebrows inquiringly when he opened it for her. "I hope you aren't thinking of playing watchdog in the bathroom."

"There isn't any need. There's nothing on you."

Ugh. She looked down at his hands. At least she hadn't been awake when those hands were patting her down. She walked through the door and he slid it shut.

She stood in front of the mirror and studied the small room. She had already seen one electronic eye when she first entered. She found another. They were the same kind that Pierre's company produced, the same that were in her apartment that first night. Was it Harden again? Was he the mole? No wonder there was no need for Burly Man to come in with her. Someone was watching her, and if it were the same person from the first night, he knew that she would know. He was daring her to be squeamish.

She stared at her reflection. Her eyes were clear. No dilation. Her confidence level grew. She could play the b.a.s.t.a.r.d's mind games without fear that she might not be alert enough. She took in a deep breath. Another challenge about working alone all the time-she didn't get tested enough, to see how far she would go to protect herself. She wondered what T. would do in this situation. However, T. had worked for two years with a tough group that probably challenged her being there all the time. This would be child's play for her.

There were white towels hanging on the rack. She stared directly at the electronic eye as she flapped them open, then deliberately smiled. She was Marlena Maxwell. They would see what she wanted them to see and nothing else.

When she was finished, she went back to the sink to wash her hands. Emptying her purse, she only found her makeup and some accessories. Missing were her small .38 and the electronic key to her hotel room. If someone tried to use that key, T. would be alerted. She still had her makeup, but would T. be in time to save her?

Marlena knew that her bargaining chip was that laptop. Now she wondered whether she would have that to bargain with at all.

If not, then what? If they had killed Stash, would she want to live? Something squeezed her heart painfully, and it was an effort to pretend to put on lipstick. She wasn't totally unarmed; she owned things specifically created to be used in situations like this. She would fight until she found out where they had put Stash. The tight fist around her heart didn't relax as she rubbed her lips together to smudge the lipstick. She would kill them first if they had done anything to him.

"You're going to be charged, McMillan. Fifty thousand dollars in cash in the car and an offsh.o.r.e account book detailing financial transactions in your apartment."

"I'm not going to be your scapegoat."

Steve looked calmly at his chief. They were alone in the hospital room after he had dismissed Cam, who was glad to be out of hearing distance. The situation looked bleak but he certainly wasn't going to let them read him his rights in a hospital gown without a fight.

He had been thinking of a setup for a couple days now and should have followed his instincts and thought things out instead of arguing with Marlena. Now she had disappeared. There was a briefcase full of cash in the car. They'd found some kind of account book in his apartment, with the kind of money he had only dreamed about. Smelled like a setup to him.

Harden was as hard to read as ever. There was something very dead about him, as if he didn't give a d.a.m.n as long as he was doing his job. And it suddenly struck Steve that when it came to his job, Rick Harden followed instructions to a T, and wouldn't go beyond that.

"You want a scapegoat," Steve continued, choosing his words carefully so as not to betray the fact that he had been doing research on TIARA members, "because you don't want another bungle like what happened in your past."

Harden's brow lifted. "You've been talking to people," he guessed wrongly.

Steve shrugged, willing to let that a.s.sumption remain. "People talk," he agreed.

"Don't let a little bit of gossip make you think you know me," Harden warned.

"Permission to speak, sir."

"I think we've gone beyond that point, McMillan. Nothing you say will stop the charges. Not with the evidence against you."

There was a satisfied note to Harden's voice. Steve wished he had some clothes on. It was tough to defend oneself with his bare a.s.s hanging out. He wasn't afraid of what would happen to him. He was afraid for Marlena. He needed to think fast, to find a way out of this.

"Questions to consider, sir. Who crashed into me? And why search my apartment?"

"It doesn't matter to me who crashed into you, or why. The fact remains that you had a lot of suspicious cash on you at that point. Orders were then given to search your apartment."

"By whom?"

Harden's gaze was steel cold. "You're overstepping your bounds," he said softly.

"I'm being accused of certain crimes, sir. I think I've a right to ask some questions. Since I'm not yet charged, I can't get a lawyer, and since I'm being guarded without charges, it would seem fair to let me ask a few questions."

Harden's brow went higher. "You've been hanging around them too much; you sound like them, trying to mess with my mind."

And his O.C. had a grudge against contract agents. Some past experience had cost him, not just a promotion, but something that had cut powerfully deep. Steve could only guess it had to do with a woman. The information in the files had been vague.

"The people behind this setup knew you would keep me in custody, sir."

Harden pulled up a chair and sat down. "And you think that I would let myself be manipulated by you or anyone else," he suggested sarcastically.

Time to be frank. "You dislike me, sir, and have ever since day one. I was someone who didn't work his way up, some grunt that the top bra.s.s had transferred to do a job that you have been trained to do. Worse, you dislike me because I was sent to keep an eye on the task force. Would it make any difference if I told you I didn't know that was why I was transferred?"

Harden blinked but didn't betray any other emotion. "No."

"There has been an informant among us, sir, a long time before I appeared."

"So you say. So the big bad SEAL is supposed to check out the operatives in TIARA, especially Task Force Two, and then you get this big promotion, right? Whether you've been on the take or not doesn't change a thing for me, because you're foolhardy enough to trust those gray-colored operatives to be on your side.

"Well, let me tell you something, they aren't on your side. They have an agenda, and they will use you up until you have nothing to give, then they will discard you with enough evidence lying around to kill your career. Even if the department sees the setup the way you explained it, the black mark in your file remains, do you know that? And you end up mopping your own blood off the floor for what? For not following the rules, not doing it the way the department wanted it done. Why? Because you thought the end justifies the means. That justice is better served if you get the bad guys with a little outside help. And yeah, they make sure you're well paid, that the money is there as some consolation prize, but here you are, alone with none of their backup. How does it feel?"

Harden stopped abruptly, as if he'd startled himself with the long speech. Steve was no less surprised. That was the most he had ever heard his operations chief speak.

"Sir, are you talking about me or you?" Steve asked quietly.

Harden stood up, noisily pushing the chair back. "You or me, does it matter?" he countered coldly. "I've tried to warn you the path you were taking led nowhere but down. The department protocol is very clear about any smear of suspicious behavior, McMillan. It goes straight into your file and remains there. You had better call a lawyer or the admiral. Things don't look too good."

Steve forgot about not wearing any underwear. It was more important at this moment to stand face-to-face with Harden. He wasn't going to have a p.i.s.sing contest lying down. He pushed off the bed in one quick move and stood in front of the other man.

Harden didn't back off or call the guard as he regarded Steve with narrowed eyes. "You want some advice? Don't fight the system. You will lose."

Steve was taller and used his height to his advantage. Let the man look up at him instead of sneering down while he lay there on a bed. "I'm a SEAL first, sir. Losing is not an option."

Harden's smile was arrogant. "Don't tell me you think your Marlena Maxwell will ride to your rescue?"

"She can't, because she was with me during the accident and no one seems to care. If you think I'm going to sit around in here while her life is in danger, you have got me all wrong, sir. I'm out of here whether I have to fight everyone in the hospital and in the system. Right now her life comes first. Put all the black marks you want in my file. I don't give a f.u.c.k."

Harden nodded. "You're the one-man army against all of them. Face it, no one will come to help you in this."

"That's your experience," Steve challenged. He didn't care about Harden's past misfortune right now. The man needed to come to terms with that all on his own, but he wasn't going to let someone's bad experience get in the way of his saving Marlena.

A knock on the door interrupted them. Cam popped his head in and waited a moment as he studied them standing face-to-face.

"What is it?" Harden asked. "Are the cuffs here?"

"No, sir. It's a Tess Montgomery. And she wants to speak to you about Steve, sir. Something to do with the case."

Harden pursed his lips into a grim line. He looked at Steve. "Who the h.e.l.l is Tess Montgomery?" he demanded. "I don't have to answer any calls from her."

"Sir, she mentioned Admiral Madison's name."

Harden's gaze narrowed as he continued to stare at Steve. "Part of my army," Steve explained. "You see, sir. My side takes care of me."

There was a short silence and Harden turned to leave. "We'll see about that, McMillan," he said over his shoulder.

Steve paced the floor, trying to calm down. Losing his temper wasn't going to solve anything, especially with Harden. He was very confident T. would get him out of there. If anyone could, she would be the one. He pulled at his hospital gown impatiently. Where the h.e.l.l had they put his clothes? The sooner he had them on, the faster he was out of there.

It seemed to take forever, but Cam finally came back in, a wry grin on his face. He pulled on the lapels of his new suit, as if he wasn't totally comfortable with its fit. "Bet that was fun," he commented, "that heart-to-heart with good old Hard-On."

Steve c.o.c.ked a brow. "You here to gossip or to tell me some good news?"

"Harden didn't want to deliver the good news himself, so you have to call Miss Montgomery yourself." Cam handed him the cell phone. "By the way, I like these chicks you're working with. Whatever she said sure made Harden's face change colors, and the more murderous he looked, the more I knew she was going to get you out."

"Will you get my clothes, please, while I call her?"

"Pretty please, sweet buns." Cam hooted as he went off.

Steve dialed, and Tess picked up on the first ring. "Are you injured badly?" she asked, without preliminaries.

"No. Thanks for helping me out."

"I need you out of there. You have forty-eight hours before that chief of yours gets a warrant out for you. He said that's the longest he could hold off for your sake."

Steve choked back an incredulous laugh. "For my sake?" That was a little too difficult to believe, especially after their conversation. "How did you arrange this, T.?"

"Darling, I do my job and you do yours, hmm?" Amus.e.m.e.nt filled Tess's voice. "He didn't sound too happy but it's always easy to pull the strings of someone with a lot of baggage."

So T. had done some research on Harden, too. Steve wondered how much she knew about everyone. "T., do you know what they have on me? Did Cam fill you in?"

"Yes. Something about cash in the car."

"That, and they searched my apartment and found an account book with deposited money. It's meant to make me look like someone bought me off to work with the mole."

"Is it the same overseas account we were talking about earlier?"

"I'd a.s.sume so. I have no idea, T., since I wasn't there when they searched it."

"I'll look into it. It's probably an electronic transfer. Tracing it should be easy." She paused, then added, "Aren't you at all tempted to use any of those funds to pay off your sister's medical bills, Stash? It'd take a load off you."

"Dirty money," Steve countered, "is dirty money. It'll come back to bite my a.s.s."

Tess laughed. "Darling, you have to trust me. If there are electronic money transfers involved, everything can be redirected, manipulated as I please. You haven't asked much about your new pay, have you? Contract pay doesn't look anything like your standard paycheck."

Steve frowned. "What do you know about it? In fact, what else do you know about me?"

He could see her shrugging, that slight smile on her face as she answered, "More than you want, and less than you think. All this will be explained to you during your training sessions. Now, we are losing time, darling. There is a problem. I'm in New York and can't join you quickly enough. I do know that whoever took Marlena has gone through her purse and used her hotel key. My men told me there was one visitor, and I a.s.sume he wasn't there for a social visit since he had the key."

Marlena's purse. Oh G.o.d. If anything had happened to her-"Stash!" T.'s voice was sharp this time. "I need you to stay focused!"

"Can you read minds too?" Steve asked, and determinedly pushed away the dark thoughts. He mustn't think like that or he wouldn't be able to function.

"Let's just say I have my talents. Now listen. Marlena will try to contact me. They have her purse, so if she could access her makeup she would let me know her location."

"Her makeup?"

"There is a laser beacon in her lipstick, virtually undetectable unless activated. And even then one must use the right equipment. It's similar to the signal that military pilots use if they eject from their planes."

"Okay." For the first time there was a glimmer of hope as to where to begin his search.

"I'll contact you the moment I get the information. Meanwhile you have to get someone to help you out. Wherever she is, she will be well guarded and you might need backup."

"Don't worry about me," Steve a.s.sured her.

"I want full updates of what your plans are, no going off on your own."

"No, ma'am."

"And Mr. Candeloro goes with you."

"What?"

"He's your insurance. Your commander said he couldn't trust you to just run off and needed more than your word. I told him to have Cameron Candeloro by your side, so he can make sure you return within forty-eight hours."

"Fine." Steve turned to see Cam coming with clothes in his arms. "Thanks for getting me out. I'll get Lena, I promise."

"I never doubted that, Steve. Keep that beeper close at hand."

"Yeah." Steve rang off and caught the clothes Cam tossed into his arms. "So I heard you're my baby-sitter."

Cam shrugged. "It was that or you stay in custody. I know you want out."

Steve grinned. "You realize you're going to have to write a report?"

Cam's lip curled up derisively. "Yeah, now you owe me two!"

Pulling on his pants, Steve looked up. "Hey, two tickets to Turandot, two favors."

"You got the tickets?"

"Not yet. But if we get Marlena back, it's a sure bet." In one piece, please, Steve prayed silently. Safe and alive. Please.