Black Ops 02 Take No Prisoners by Cindy Gerard

Author:Cindy Gerard
Language: ru
Format: mobi
Publisher: Simon and Schuster
Published: 2008-06-05T23:00:00+00:00

Abbie’s heart was revved to triple time as she turned her back on Sam and walked away.

She was scared.

She was anxious.

But above it all, she was shaken.

“I was wrong about you.”

Too little. Too late. That’s what she should have said. Too late, too late, too late.

Damn him.

Damn him for kissing her.

Damn him for looking at her like…like he’d looked at her that night in her bed.

And damn her own stupid hide for wanting to believe him—again.

She drew a bracing breath. Shook it off. Got her bearings in the busy terminal. This wasn’t about her or Sam. This was about Cory. She had to keep her head if—

Oh, God.

She stopped short when she saw a hand-lettered sign with her name on it, held above the crowd by a meaty hand.

This was it. The point of no return.

Then she prayed for strength when she recognized the man holding it.

Nader hadn’t just sent a driver. He’d sent Rutger Smith.

Abbie’s knees went weak with fear. She fought through a wave of revulsion and shot right on to rage. Every cell in her body shifted from prey to predator mode.

This was the animal who had brutalized her brother. Even more than she feared him, she wanted to make him pay for what he’d done. First, though, she had to get to Cory. The only way that was going to happen was if she kept her head and kept right on walking.

He hadn’t seen her yet. The terminal was full of travelers even at ten o’clock on this Central American night where outside heat and humidity seeped into the poorly air-conditioned building. She looked toward the floor, spoke softly. “I spotted my driver,” she informed Doc, knowing he and Sam would be listening on the receiver.

Also knowing that if she told Sam it was Smith who Nader had sent to pick her up, he’d come charging into the terminal and drag her away.

She made sure that didn’t happen.

“Stay close, okay? Just…stay close.”

Fight or flight. She’d read about the gut-jarring instinct. Had never experienced it firsthand. But when her gaze connected with Rutger Smith’s, it took everything in her to keep moving forward.

His picture hadn’t lied. His eyes, when they locked in on her, were devoid of anything vaguely resembling humanity.

“I’m Abbie Hughes,” she said, stopping a good three feet away from him.

Smith swept her with a look so cold and remote, she felt a chill in spite of the warm, tropical night. “My employer is expecting you. I have a car waiting.”

“My brother,” she said, when he turned to lead her out of the terminal. “I need to know about my brother. Where is he? How is he?”

Smith stopped. His soulless black eyes bore into hers. “You would be well-advised to simply accompany me. I’m to provide transportation, not answers. You’ll have those soon enough.”

“I need to talk to him,” she persisted as Sam had instructed her. She wasn’t to go anywhere until she had proof that Cory was alive. “I’m not setting foot outside this terminal until I know he’s alive.

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