Chapter 4 #3
“Now.” He didn’t mind bossing the billionaire movie mogul around a little. The man was a deep-down fan of his and not a bad guy behind the curtain of fame and fortune. His wife was a peach. She looked unsure of the situation and looked at her husband to answer.
“Okay. Under one condition. I pilot the boat.”
He would have argued, but Shana jumped in, squeezing his arm to hold off his objections.
“That’ll work. Let’s go.”
Gable looked smug enough for Dane to punch his face if he hadn’t remembered he normally liked the man. He had to get his surliness under control. He didn’t have Big Ben on his shoulder, but he felt the weight of short time and high stakes—and something else—setting him on edge.
It wasn’t the usual tightrope walk of obvious danger he was used to. This was the kind where something wasn’t quite right, something was out there, but not visible, and he knew it but went out there for a walk anyway.
Once they lit a fire under Gable he was all business.
He grabbed his coat and a mail pouch full of small yacht essentials, then headed down to the water and the dock where his dinghy was tied.
The yacht was moored less than 100 yards off the end of the dock.
Most people would have kept their yacht at a marina. Not Gable.
He kept his nearby because he went out often. He came by his boating pastime genuinely, not as an affectation of wealth. This was one of the points Dane posted in the man’s favor. So far Gable was in the black on Dane’s score card of who owed who how much, but the card wasn’t full yet.
Once they got to the yacht and boarded, Dane sat in the main salon with Shana on the long white leather couch. They’d been in the salon of a yacht before on a case, but Dane preferred not to dwell on that violent encounter. The engines purred as Gable piloted the boat out of the harbor.
“How far out do you suppose we need to go?” Shana asked.
She sat forward with her elbows on her knees, looking at him sideways.
Her hair fell in lush waves, some tendrils falling across her face, obscuring her eyes in a sexy peek-a-boo way.
He slid up against her, meeting his hips to hers and feeling the contact like they were two magnets—hot magnets.
The attraction was strong and their body heat so high he was surprised there wasn’t steam coming off the spot where they touched.
“I figure a fifteen-minute ride ought to do it.” His voice came out huskier than he’d wanted it to.
This was serious business. He needed to have a powwow with the Governor.
The Secret Service men had proved they weren’t trustworthy, proved they didn’t trust Dane and Shana.
And last, but not least, they had proved that they didn’t intend to let Dane and Shana do a thing they didn’t know about.
They had something in mind for Dane and Shana and they were telling them very little of what that part was.
“This is nerve-wracking,” she said, leaning into him.
“What? The boat ride?”
She didn’t snort or punch his arm or laugh at his joke. Instead, she gave him the full deep and open depths of her green gaze with nothing held back. Her vulnerability was breathtaking.
“Knowing the Secret Service is keeping us under their thumb to use us for some purpose and not telling us.” She paused.
He ran his thumb across her full lips, her cheekbone, her temple.
He wanted to kiss those plush lips, wanted to kiss the worry out of her, wanted to promise her everything would be all right, that he’d protect her.
He had her covered. But he didn’t because she would hate it.
“We can’t trust them, Dane.”
He touched his forehead to hers and pushed his fingers through her hair, wrapping a hand behind her neck and holding her with the other.
“I know. We got this.”
She grunted a laugh then because he’d thrown her words back at her.
There was no way in hell he wanted Shana in this with him. But there was no way in hell she’d let him go it alone. And in truth, he’d be lost without her, wouldn’t he?
“Don’t try and do this without me.”
She was a mind-reader, but he wasn’t going to let her know that.
He pulled her in for a tight hug, for himself as much as for her. It lasted until Gable came down the stairs from the pilot house.
“How far out do you want to go or do you have somewhere in particular in mind for this joy ride?”
“Another five minutes worth and then anchor it.”
“Aye-Aye, captain.” He saluted Dane and went back up to man the controls.
Lucky for Dane the man was big on intrigue.
He’d have to crush Gable’s hopes eventually, but it was necessary.
He couldn’t let his billionaire movie-mogul friend in on this action and had mixed feelings on having involved him this far.
But sometimes you needed the help of friends to get the job done.
Dane, in spite of his unworthiness, had always had good friends and he’d been a team player since his special ops days.
Peter had had a hell of a time breaking him from his loner inclinations, but he’d done it.
And Dane had been a team player ever since—with one minor breach, a dark time Dane couldn’t afford to think about right now.
Instead, he slipped his phone from his pocket and put it on the glass cocktail table where it clicked loudly.
“Ready to call?”
“No. I can’t use either of our phones for this call.”
The engines shut off, eliminating the low-level drone from the background. A beat later he heard the chunky metallic sound of the anchor lowering. Gable came down the stairs again, this time he took a seat opposite Dane.
“Now tell me what this is all about. No one will be listening out here.”
“Give me your cell phone.”
Gable’s eyebrows knit, but he did what he was told. Dane took it.
“I can’t read you in on this one, my friend.” Dane’s face reflected his implacable seriousness.
Gable looked stunned and leaned back.
“Then what’s this all about? You taking advantage?”
“Yes, but it’s for a good cause.”
Gable looked at Shana. “You in on this?”
She nodded, giving nothing but a serious-as-an atom-bomb look.
Gable looked like he’d been hit by an atom bomb, but Dane couldn’t soften it for him, didn’t want to get cajoled into anything by this squirrelly business man who Dane knew for a fact was used to getting his way in all things.
“Leave us alone. We’ll need ten minutes or so, then we can get back.”
“That’s it?”
Dane nodded. He held the phone and he held his ground and said nothing more, just waited for Gable to acquiesce. Finally, Gable stood and walked with uncharacteristic stiffness from the room.
Shana said, “He’ll get over it.”
Dane shrugged. “He will or he won’t.”
“You’re a tough bastard.”
“I’ve had to make a lot of tough decisions in my life, tough sacrifices, in the name of the mission.”
She nodded. He watched her eyes go distant, retreat from him. When she would have pulled back he reached out and put an arm around her shoulder, reeling her in.
“You’re not one of those sacrifices, girlie. Never will be.”
“I know.”
He bent his head to kiss her to make sure she knew. To make sure he remembered. He’d been too hard in his past, made some mistakes on his tough decisions. He didn’t want to make those mistakes again. He lifted his mouth from her warm familiar lips and lifted her chin with a finger.
His heart pounded unnaturally. It wasn’t the usual adrenaline.
It felt more like fear. The kind of fear you would get from walking across a tightrope.
Not a completely unfamiliar feeling, but it was out of place here.
He’d already made up his mind. He knew what to do.
He shifted and turned his attention to the phone and dialed up the Governor.
“What’s wrong?” Peter hadn’t let the phone finish its first ring.
“I was hoping you could tell me. Other than the itinerary, they’re not giving us anything. We’re being used as far as I can tell.”
“For what?”
Dane flicked his eyes at Shana and answered.
“As a distraction. A target at worse.”
“I’d tell you you’re being paranoid and far-fetched, but this one is giving me concern. On my end.” Peter stopped as if he were unsure—and this was a man who was never unsure.
“What does the chatter say?”
Peter took a breath and said. “I wouldn’t be surprised if a local terrorist cell with some money but lacking in expertise—and possibly nerve—went on the dark web and hired a professional hit team.”
Dane paused. Shana gripped his arm. His heart thudded a deadly loud and fast beat. He wanted to ask Peter when he’d planned on clueing him in on this, but he knew his friend would eventually have made sure he found out one way or another.
“Any idea who the hit team is—aside from the fact that they’re probably posing as a couple of tourists?”
“That’s what you figure? A couple of tourists? No official word yet. I had to pry the intel I got from my source. I owe him my next two unborn children. I’m not sure I’ll get any more.”
“You want me to play along with this charade?”
“I want you to prevent an assassination attempt. So does my source.”
“Even if the attempt is on the President’s double?”
Dead air buzzed in his ear, which Dane was prepared for.
“You’re too damn good sometimes,” Peter finally said.
“That your answer?”
“Prevent the assassination attempt so no one else knows the President sent his double. The prevailing wisdom is that it would be a disaster if the public found out.”
“Not as big a disaster as if the President got himself killed.”
“That’s right. I like how you’re keeping your eye on the prize. Remind yourself that every time the Secret Service team pisses you off. I don’t want any calls complaining about you punching anyone.”
Dane heard the unsaid, unless you have to.
“Yes sir. Any more words of wisdom?”
Peter gave him a subdued snort that passed for a laugh.
“I’m glad you’re backing us up. If it were up to me, I’d have you playing lead on this, but no one’s appointed me Director of Homeland Security.”
“Not yet. But then that’s not the title you’re going for, is it?”
“Another conversation for another day,” Peter said.
Dane signed off. Shana was on his left shoulder, literally hanging on every word of the conversation.
He wrapped her in his arm before she had a chance to pull away. He wanted to have this conversation with her up close and personal.
“Serious business,” she said.
He nodded and studied her jewel-green eyes. They were wide open with seriousness, determination, worry, and awe. There was no hesitation or backing down from the challenge in those eyes. She stared right back at him.
“As serious as it gets.”
“We’re up to it.”
“No shit.” He showed one dimple. If he and Shana weren’t up to it, then they were all in trouble. The Governor had as much as told him they were counting on him to save the life of the leader of the damn free world.
He wished like hell Shana was in Australia and he was handling this on his own.