Chapter 10
Marta tensed as they left the secure section of the Miami airport and passed into the baggage claim area.
She glanced right and left, scanning for the two men Royce had sent from his team.
Not knowing what they looked like didn’t help, forcing her to study the faces of every man who was approximately Crusher’s age and build.
“I see Drago,” Crusher said.
Marta’s gaze shifted in the direction Crusher was looking and frowned. “Where?”
“The man wearing black trousers, a khaki blazer, and he has black hair.” Crusher’s lips twitched. “Looks like one of the James Bond actors.”
Marta found the man and shook her head. Sophisticated good looks, not at all like the ruggedly handsome SOS operative who’d rescued her from Vasquez’s compound. “Are you sure he’s good. He looks more at home at a yacht club than fighting bad guys.”
Crusher laughed. “That’s what I thought when I first met Drago.
Don’t let his clothing fool you. He’s a former Navy SEAL.
The man isn’t afraid to get his hands dirty, and he’s deadly when it counts.
” He headed toward the man, eyes alert, scanning the crowd of passengers as they eagerly collected their bags and moved toward the exit.
Drago held out his hand. “Crusher, glad you made it.”
Crusher gripped the man’s hand in a firm handshake. “I’m glad Royce sent backup. It was hit or miss getting from Colombia to Miami.”
“I heard.” Drago turned to Marta. “Dr. Hale, welcome to Miami. Drake Thornton at your service.”
Marta placed her hand in Drago’s, surprised it wasn’t smooth but calloused, more than she’d expected. Smaller than Crusher’s, but strong. “Nice to meet you. I must admit, you’re not what I expected.”
Drago gave a suave smile and waved toward Crusher. “Not all of the SOS team is built like a tank, as is our guy Crusher.” He tipped his head toward the door. “Phantom’s waiting in the car out front. We need to hurry before they make him move.”
Crusher hooked Marta’s elbow and ushered her out of the terminal into the hot, humid South Florida sunshine.
Marta blinked at the brightness, her eyes adjusting to the glaring sun.
Drago led the way to a dark SUV pulled up to the curb. He opened the back door and held it as Marta climbed in and slid across the seat. Crusher got in beside her and pulled the door shut.
Drago claimed the front passenger seat and nodded toward the driver. “This is Brett Taggert, aka Phantom.”
Crusher leaned over the seat and shook the man’s hand. “Phantom, thanks for coming.”
The man glanced at them in the rearview mirror, his lips twisting. “Wouldn’t miss a chance to visit the sweltering heat of Miami.”
Crusher sat back with a snort. “And it’s not hot in South Texas?”
“It’s a dry heat,” Phantom said.
“Compared to Miami, you’re right,” Crusher said. “We need to make a stop at the nearest shopping mall. We could use a change of clothes and some toiletries.”
“Roger.” Phantom pulled away from the curb, his gaze sweeping the rear and side mirrors often.
Drago brought up a map on his cell phone and located a shopping mall, giving Phantom the directions. Once they were on the way, Drago turned in his seat to look back at Crusher.
“Do you anticipate trouble in the handoff of the asset?” Drago asked.
“Human,” Marta said tightly. “Here in the same vehicle.”
Drago grimaced. “My apologies, Dr. Hale. You’re absolutely correct. You’re not a package to be delivered, but a brilliant scientist to be protected. My mistake.”
Marta sighed. “Thank you. Crusher, do you think we’ll encounter problems at the handoff?” She cocked an eyebrow in his direction.
His lips curled in a brief smile and then straightened. “I hope not. Given what we encountered getting out of Colombia and then Panama, I was surprised we didn’t meet any resistance in Mexico or when we arrived in Miami.”
Marta nodded. “Same. Unless Vasquez is confident my replacement is making progress. All the more reason to get back into a lab as soon as possible. We’ll need an antiviral to lessen the damage that virus will cause.”
At the mall, Crusher, Drago and Phantom stayed close to Marta. She appreciated the protection, though it was a bit awkward when they insisted on inspecting the ladies’ dressing room before they let her go inside to try on clothing.
She selected two pairs of slacks, two blouses, one in pastel green and the other in a shade of butterscotch that complemented her hair.
In addition to the outer clothing, she added socks, comfortable walking shoes she could run in, toiletries, and seven pairs of sexy panties, a matching lacy bra, and a babydoll nightgown.
She slid the delicate unmentionables into the middle of the pile of clothing, a little embarrassed to display them in front of the three macho men.
Hiding them was useless when Crusher was the one who had to pay for them. The clerk carefully folded each item, on full display, before she placed them in a bag.
Crusher didn’t say anything about the undergarments, though his brow rose when they were being folded.
Heat burned Marta’s cheeks throughout the process.
She told herself it was logical to buy such items. She had nothing with her and didn’t know when she’d have the chance to stock up.
It was no different from the set of clothes Crusher had brought to the checkout counter, except for the size and colors.
He had pants, shirts, socks, and shoes, along with a six-pack of boxer briefs.
Marta filed that data into the back of her mind. The man wore boxer briefs. Her imagination grabbed that information and ran with it, bringing up images of what he might look like in them. The heat in her cheeks intensified, spreading south to her core.
She wondered if they’d share a room as they had in Panama.
Surely, Crusher would insist on it. Her gaze fell on the other two men, who stood with their backs to them, surveying the store and the customers moving through the clothing racks.
Would they stay in the same room? Would they be in a suite with all four of them together?
Marta hoped not. She’d gotten used to having Crusher to herself. And that kiss on the airplane...
The clerk finished ringing up their purchases and scanned the credit card Royce provided. He’d sent a Visa gift card, one that couldn’t be traced and didn’t require any form of identification.
With their bags in hand, Marta and Crusher left the mall with the two SOS agents flanking them the entire time.
No one accosted them or tried to grab Marta, for which she was grateful. Their time together was short. She had one night left with Crusher, and then she’d be taken somewhere to work on stopping a virus from becoming a worldwide pandemic.
“We should hit a drive-thru for food. I don’t feel comfortable sitting for a long period of time in a restaurant,” Crusher said.
Everyone agreed.
“I would love a hamburger, French fries and a strawberry milkshake,” Marta announced.
Crusher chuckled. “I would’ve pegged you for wanting something healthier.”
Marta shrugged. “After six weeks of cornmeal patties and beans, I think I can handle a burger and fries. And who doesn’t like strawberry milkshakes?”
“Hamburgers and fries it is,” Crusher said.
“And don’t forget the strawberry milkshake,” Marta added.
The men laughed.
Phantom pulled into a drive-thru and ordered for all four of them. The meals arrived quickly, and then they were on their way to the hotel.
Marta sipped her milkshake and munched on the fries while scanning the crowded roads for any signs of trouble.
If she hadn’t already gone through what she had, driving around with the three men, the smell of hamburgers and fries filling the car would have felt like hanging out with the frat boys from college.
Something she’d never done in her life. She kind of liked it.
When they checked into the hotel, Marta was glad to find that she and Crusher would share a room, and the other two SOS agents would be in the room across the hallway.
They took their purchases up to their rooms. Phantom checked Crusher’s and Marta’s room first before he let them enter. Drago inspected the room he’d share with Phantom.
Both men gave the all clear, and they moved into their respective rooms.
Their room had two queen-sized beds. A strange disappointment stabbed Marta in the chest. After the kiss on the plane, she’d hoped... Well, never mind. At least Crusher wouldn’t insist on sleeping on the floor with two beds in the room.
Finally alone with Crusher, Marta dropped her bags on a chair.
She wasn’t ready to face her rescuer in the small space.
After being just the two of them while escaping through the jungle, in Liza’s guest room, and on the plane from Costa Rica to Mexico City, she should have felt more comfortable around him.
She almost wished they were back in the jungle, where all they had to worry about was surviving.
It felt as if the looming handoff had created a wall between them, forcing distance. There was so much she wanted to say. So much she wanted to hear from him. All she could come up with was, “Let’s eat first and sort things after.”
“Good idea,” Crusher said as he tossed his clothes bags onto the bed closest to the door and carried the bag of food and the two milkshakes to the table in the corner. He pulled out the burgers and fries and held a chair for Marta.
Squaring her shoulders, she sank into the chair with a fake smile on the outside, while inside, her chest hurt. More than it should have. The thought of their pending split made her anxious, sad, and...heartbroken?
No way. Falling in love took time. They hadn’t even known each other for a week.
Though the few days she’d spent in his company felt like a lifetime of experiences together that had forged a bond she felt to the very core of her being.
But that didn’t mean it was love. Surely, love took longer. She shook her head.
Crusher frowned. “What’s wrong? Did we get the wrong kind of burger?”