Speed turned the dotted white lines into one continuous white line. Drew's gaze darted between the road and Chapman as he waited for the call to go through. "Come on, what's taking so long? Call them!" he snapped, as tense as Chapman.

"I did! He isn't answering!" He muttered a litany of swear words as he hit end and redialed. After a few more nerve-racking moments, he straightened with a jerk. "Renke! Speak up, I can't hear you."

Drew listened with growing anxiety as Chapman yelled, "Who?" then added in alarm, "What the f.u.c.k's going on there?"

"What? What's wrong?" Drew demanded.

"h.e.l.l if I know. I've got your dad's f.u.c.kin' a.s.sistant answering my partner's cell phone, and I can't think of any good reason why that would happen. Then he tells me to hang on 'cause he can't talk right now, like I'm calling during his f.u.c.kin' lunch break. What the f.u.c.k!" Chapman yelled the last part into the phone so Gerald could appreciate his anger, too.

"Give it here, let me talk to him," Drew said, holding out his hand. At the same time he made a quick, one-handed correction with the wheel, which translated to an eighty-mile-an-hour lurch into the next lane.

"f.u.c.k that. You're barely keeping us alive as it is." He flicked the phone to speaker mode and held it between them. "Talk to him."

"Gerald? What's going on?"

A few seconds of silence followed, and Drew was about to repeat his demand in a testier tone, when they heard rustling. "d.a.m.n it, keep your panties on," Gerald said in a hoa.r.s.e whisper. "I'm turning the volume off. Stand by."

Chapman almost looked pleased at Drew's frustrated swearing. "You see? I swear to G.o.d, if that stupid little jerk took Renke's phone and is playing amateur secret agent, I'll wring his scrawny neck. He could be putting my partner in danger! The guy gets a hair up his a.s.s just because he got his precious coat ripped when he interfered with an agent acting in the line of duty, and now he's acting out some petty vendetta against government agents-"

"Hey, whoa, back off, Chapman," Drew said. He figured he already deserved credit for not telling the guy to shove it up his a.s.s. "You don't know Gerald. Petty, maybe. But stupid? Never. He's one of the brightest people I know. He's not playing at anything. Shut up and wait until we find out what's happening." If Gerald really was doing something just to annoy Renke, Drew would personally hold him down while Chapman wrung his neck.

Another quarter mile of highway flashed by before they heard more rustling from the phone, followed by Gerald's low voice. "Okay, I think it's safe. Talk to me. But keep it down."

Chapman snarled at his phone, but followed directions. "You talk to talk to me me. Start by telling me where Renke is."

"Certainly. Your dumba.s.s partner is about sixty yards away from me, stalking through the woods like friggin' Davy Crockett."

"Well, get him!" Chapman kept his voice down, but Drew thought he might be close to rupturing an artery from the effort.

"I can't get him," Gerald hissed back. "We're in the middle of a covert operation here. We don't have time for chitchat."

Chapman stared at the phone in his hand as if it had suddenly turned into something rank and slimy. Drew s.n.a.t.c.hed it away, at the same time cutting off a semi and getting a blast from its horn in return. If Gerald was in full officious mode, Drew would have more patience for it than Chapman. "Gerald!"

"Ssshhh!" he scolded. It sounded like he had his mouth directly on the speaker. "Do you want them to hear you?"

Gritting his teeth, Drew adjusted his voice to a low rumble. "Them who? What's going on? Start at the beginning, and keep it short and sweet."

"Fine. We're in the middle of G.o.dforsaken nowhere, with no street lights or houses, much less malls and spas. But we think we've found Senator Creighton and Meg. We pa.s.sed a car on the side of the road with its parking lights on, like it's just waiting for someone. Renke stopped around the curve, and he's walking back toward it through the woods. Mr. Official Agent says it's always best to be safe. Mihaly is walking back down the center of the road, because if it's them, Meg will see him and recognize him. I should be the one doing that, because they both know me, but Mr. Bigshot told me to wait in the car while they did their hero stuff. And he left his phone, so now I have it."

Drew relaxed marginally. "So you're in the car?"

"Of course I'm not in the car. What good would I be there? You think I'd do something just because some government-trained twit tells me to?"

Of course not, what was he thinking?

"Give me that," Chapman growled, grabbing the phone back with one hand while using the other to brace himself against the dash as Drew cut lanes and swerved into a right turn. "Listen carefully," he ordered. "That's not Senator Creighton in that car. In all likelihood it's the two agents who have been blackmailing senators. It's a trap, and they're going to try to kill all three of you. You got that?"

Gerald paused. "How do you know?"

Drew answered, knowing Gerald would be less apt to doubt him. "Because the blackmailer is Pierson."

"Holy s.h.i.t," Gerald breathed into the phone.

"Where exactly are you?" Chapman asked.

"I'm getting up close and personal with Mother Nature, on the other side of the road from Agent Renke. I stepped in something highly questionable, and probably snagged my hand-tailored pants that I-Oh, s.h.i.t!"

"What?" he and Chapman blurted out together.

Gerald's voice went an octave higher. "They just spotted Mihaly and turned on their headlights. He's totally lit up, so now he probably can't see the car or anyone in it. Oh, that's not good."

Chapman brought the phone closer to his mouth and spoke in urgent, clipped tones. "You've gotta tell Renke and Dragos to back off, now."

Drew hit narrower city streets and was forced to slow down to navigate parked cars and frequent turns. The squealing tires were the only sound in the car as they listened for Gerald's response.

"I can't see Agent Renke. Mihaly's a sitting duck, completely blind. They're just waiting for him to get closer."

"For G.o.d's sake, call them off!"

"If I do that, the guys in the car will start shooting, won't they?" Gerald said, sounding more contemplative than Drew would have been at that moment.

"They're going to start shooting anyway. Just do it!" Drew bet if the light had been better Chapman's face would be deep purple.

"Ssshhh! Shut up, I'm thinking."

Drew frowned in confusion, unable to imagine Gerald not going for the scream-and-run plan.

Chapman was more direct. "What's to think about?" he asked, his voice vibrating with stress. "Rule number one, stay out of harm's way. Get the f.u.c.k out of there!"

"Will you hush or do I have to turn you off?"

Chapman gave Drew an incredulous look and tossed the phone onto the console, apparently giving up. "The man's a control freak! But only an idiot would think he can control this situation. He's going to get everyone killed," Chapman said.

Drew wasn't sure he could defend Gerald on that point.

"Let's see," Gerald mused from the dashboard, sounding as if he were deciding which suit to wear and not how to prevent three people from getting shot. "The car windows are up. They won't shoot at us through the windows."

"Right," Chapman muttered, although Drew doubted Gerald was waiting for his opinion.

"They must be wondering where Agent Renke and I are."

"How do you know they're both in the car?"

Chapman's question stopped him. "Good point," he conceded. "One of them could be waiting for us in the woods."

Chapman nodded vigorously, obviously pleased that he was beginning to get through to him.

"So I'll have to check that out."

"No!" Chapman yelled it, and Drew could almost see the agent's blood pressure shoot back into the red zone. All Drew could do was grip the steering wheel in frustration, With the Ford's engine roaring in his ears, Drew barely heard Gerald's soft murmur from the phone on the dash. "I have the volume low and I'd like to keep this phone on in case you have any useful advice, but if you two don't keep it down"-he emphasized the last three words-"I'm turning it off. Capisce? Capisce?"

Neither bothered to respond. They'd come up behind a slow-moving car whose driver either hadn't spotted the flashing light behind him or wasn't impressed. Drew laid on the horn until the car edged over, then shot past it with a roar.

"That does it, the volume is going off."

Chapman looked at Drew in disbelief. "I don't believe this. He turned me off." Processing that information must have been difficult, because he didn't even comment as Drew oversteered a corner, jumped the curb, and sc.r.a.ped the car's back b.u.mper against a tree. "If anything happens to my partner, I'm gonna kill that little p.r.i.c.k," he announced.

The phone went silent for a full minute, so it surprised them both when a low voice spoke from their dashboard.

"They're both in the car. I'm sneaking around the back. If I'm on the other side, our dumba.s.s agent in the woods should see me. Even he should be able to figure out something's wrong if I'm crawling around on the ground."

"What in the h.e.l.l is he doing?" Chapman grabbed the phone again.

"I don't know, and I can't worry about it now." His dad's house was only a couple miles away. All Lauren had to do was keep Pierson at bay for a few more minutes.

"Okay, I made motions to indicate danger, so I hope dumba.s.s saw them."

Gerald's voice was so low he must have had his mouth directly on the phone, but Chapman still held it near his ear. "What'd he say? Something about making motions?"

"How should I know?" One crisis at a time would be nice, but if Drew had to make a choice, Lauren's safety was more important than anything else. Lauren was more important.

Chapman yelled at the phone. "Get away from the car!"

Since he couldn't hear them, Gerald's voice never paused. "I'm going to have to trust your brutish friend to cover this side of the car. I'm crawling back to the driver's side now. Mihaly's getting close and they're going to open those windows soon. d.a.m.n it, this gravel is killing my trousers. The government is for d.a.m.n sure going to get another bill from me."

Chapman had gone still. "My G.o.d, he's waiting for them to lower the windows."

"Why?" Not that he had time to care. Pierson probably felt pressed for time and wouldn't allow Lauren to stall for long. He had to hurry.

Chapman barely seemed to notice the trash bin that went flying as Drew dodged a car nosing out of a driveway. He stared at the phone. "He must have some lame-brained idea that he can overpower them when they stick their guns out the window to shoot at Dragos. That's insane. Even if he surprises the driver from behind and manages to knock the gun out of his hand, there's still the other guy to deal with. Renke doesn't know what's going on, and Dragos has no idea anything's anything's wrong. They could shoot him before-" wrong. They could shoot him before-"

He broke off at a whispery sound from the phone and held it to his ear.

Drew tore his eyes from the road long enough to see the worry on Chapman's face. "What'd he say?"

"He's going to leave the line open, but he can't talk anymore. Holy Christ, what's he think he's going to do, twist the guy's arm until he yells 'uncle'? Hit him with a stick? Punch him?"

"Gerald's a biter." Drew managed one terse sentence. The house was only two blocks away now. Lauren might still be okay. She was smart and resourceful...

Drew slammed on the brakes as a man walking a dog started across the street. Their headlights raked parked cars on both sides of the street as they fishtailed, then straightened out. From the corner of his eye Drew saw the man and dog scamper to safety and he gunned it.

Chapman grabbed the dash again and swore, but Drew wasn't sure if it was for his driving or for the tense silence from the phone. He couldn't worry about it. His heart and mind were full of Lauren. Besides, Gerald had always been able to take care of himself.

Screaming erupted from the phone, startling them both. A second later a different voice yelled out, followed by a confused mixture of noises and screams. Chapman stared at the phone. Drew stared straight ahead, eyes on the road while acutely aware of every sound coming from the small speaker. Men yelling. b.u.mping and banging. Then a sound that sent fear ripping through him-a gunshot, followed by a high-pitched shriek. He strained to hear more, but the garbled mixture of noises cut off abruptly.

The phone went silent.

Chapman threw it to the floor. "f.u.c.k!"

Drew clenched his jaw and refused to think about what might have happened. Only one thing mattered: Lauren. Lauren.

CHAPTER Fifteen.

Panic shot through Lauren. It must have been at least ten minutes since she'd talked to Drew. Someone should be here to save her by now. Anyone. A surreal sense of exasperation followed. Did she have to do everything herself?

Things like this didn't happen in her former well-planned, evenly paced, dependable life. No blackmail plots, no shootings, no extraordinary man making love to her. And certainly no naked senators intent on having s.e.x with her. She had no experience to draw on. Meg might know how to deal with a randy, naked senator, but Lauren was going to have to wing it.

She blinked at the pants around his ankles, then up at him. Her own newly realized desire to make love in inappropriate places had been an incredible turn-on. It was probably too tame for Pierson, but she hoped he had a few fantasies of his own.

Your turn, he had told her. he had told her.

"Okay," she said, as seductively as she could manage. "But I have a favor to ask first."

Pierson didn't look happy about anything that might postpone his raunchy plans.

"What?"

"I like things a little... kinky."

His suspicious look cleared and turned lascivious. "Yeah? How kinky?"

"I want you to tie me up."

A smile spread slowly until his teeth showed. "You surprise me, Lauren. In the best way possible."

She pretended to be flattered. "Good. Because I have one more surprise."

"What?" His voice had gone gravelly with pa.s.sion.

"Uh-uh. Tie me up first."

His hairy chest heaved as he blew out a deep breath. "d.a.m.n, I can't wait to give it to you." He nodded at her terry-cloth belt. "We can use that."

"No!" she blurted, refusing to let go of the only thing keeping him from ogling her body.

"You're right. Leather is much better." He whipped the belt off his trousers and kicked them aside. "Put your hands together and I'll lash you to the rails on the headboard."

Holy s.h.i.t, it was hard to stay ahead of this creep. "I was thinking you could use handcuffs. That's why I wanted to come up here." She dug through the drawer and pulled out the silver handcuffs she'd spotted a few days ago, before Drew slammed the drawer closed. She dangled them in front of Pierson.

If snakes could smile they would look exactly like the senator, only less slimy and without all those teeth. "You bad girl. Give me those."

She hopped onto the bed and scuttled to the other side. "No need, I can do it." She pulled the key from the lock and wasted a few seconds fumbling with the cuffs. His actions were getting ahead of her words and she needed more time. "I hope you have plenty of stamina, Senator, because you're really going to love what we do after this."