The Espionage Effect(85)
“No.” But any advantage I hoped to gain, relied on him letting his guard down.
“Don’t worry, Miss Hill. The suspiciousness on both sides won’t last forever. I don’t blame you. Your reservations are natural. You think you don’t know me. But you actually know me better than anyone else in your life. You are who I was, many years ago. We’ll give it time. Distance and perspective settles all things.”
Did it? Had it been true for him? I wondered what his trauma had been, since he believed we were so alike. Time had certainly revealed many things to me.
And I sensed my time for discovery had only just begun.
After a blood-pumping jog up four flights of stairs and a determined march along a dimly lit corridor, a metal door appeared. Two pairs of guards ahead of us peeled away, standing at attention to our left and right.
Alec stayed silent for the duration. Yet I felt his presence, hot and insistent at my back. Nevertheless, I wasn’t able to sort him out right now. My focus narrowed to each split-second moment, continually assessing threats to me, the only one I remained capable of looking out for—or cared to. At every next step, I chose the path of least resistance. For now.
Escobar slipped a key card into a slot above the metal latch. When a green light flashed on, he depressed the handle and opened the door. A waiting guard to our right shot a hand up and grabbed the door’s edge, holding it open while the soldiers filed out ahead of us.
We followed and stepped out into the darkness on the roof of his house. Air currents whipped around, and I inhaled the cool mineral tang of ocean mist through my nostrils.
A sleek black military-grade helicopter waited toward the end of a circular helipad, its whirling overhead rotor the cause of all the air disturbance. A pilot sat in the cockpit, wearing a green metal headset over his ears.
With efficient order, our entire group climbed into the large bird, first the two lead pairs of guards, then after finally releasing his ever-present grip, Escobar. He immediately turned and reached a hand down to me. Outnumbered and temporarily resigned to my fate, I grabbed on to his forearm and climbed into the vibrating tin can, apprehensive about boarding something that seemed so…unstable. Laws of physics eventually prevailed against the ego of man. Create something to defy gravity? Gravity would find a way to defeat you.
Regardless of my theories, I swallowed down instinctual fear and played along, like a good little spy…or bad guy—I hadn’t yet decided.
After Escobar tugged me down into the seat beside him, he drew a thick safety-harness down around my shoulders and up through my legs. He secured its metal buckle over my midsection with a click while Alec and the remaining soldiers split apart and took seats along the two benches in front of us that lined the bulkhead. Seconds later, my stomach dropped, then rotated as the helicopter took flight.
When I deliberately glared at Alec, he ignored me. Which only enraged my simmering anger toward a rapid boil. Common sense assured me that he couldn’t do any more than he was under the circumstances. But come on. Even a fleeting glance would’ve gone a long way to settle my ragged nerves. All his callous disregard did was renew my faith that lying, betraying thieves of hearts had infiltrated my life.
My jaw clenched tight, and I forced my attention out the open door beside me as errant winds whipped at strands of my hair. Down below in the rough waters of the ocean, a handful of watercraft skimmed over the waves. Resembling hydrofoils, the boats were narrow with extended stability skids jutting outward on each side. Light and nimble, they hovered over the choppy black waters, smooth as a hockey puck gliding on ice.
Farther ahead, a cruise ship loomed into view, a dark silhouette speckled with white lights that overtook the horizon.
Against my hardening will, my gaze drifted back inside, toward Alec, who had casually sprawled on the end of the bench on the port bulkhead, across from and five feet ahead of me. The soldier beside him leaned his face closer to Alec’s ear, his lips moving in some shouted conversation I couldn’t decipher through the roar of the rotors.
I stared hard at Alec, willing him to glance at me.
In spite of all the betrayal, I wanted so badly to believe in him. In everything he’d said. Anger helped to quell the storming emotions I didn’t yet want to face. But my feelings for him, the ones I fought valiantly to ignore, kept creeping forward.
Look at me, Alec.
As if sensing my urgent mental plea, he finally glanced at me. With a nearly imperceptible twitch, his brows drew together. Like deep concern lay concealed behind his impassive mask.
I blew out a measured breath, then looked away.
The minuscule sign didn’t mean he was worthy of anything from me. Didn’t actually mean a damn thing.
Yet the hint of more behind his fa?ade was enough to keep me going for now.
The time to kick his ass would have to wait until later.
The modified hydrofoils were surprisingly agile on the choppy waters of the Caribbean Sea. And the helicopter we flew in was more than mere transport, it also served as air support. The aircraft’s open doors on each side were manned by two soldiers apiece, each armed with those snub-nosed automatic assault rifles. They guarded Escobar’s lynchpin, the human weapons being delivered for the final leg of their journey.
Any questions Alec and I had had about how they would board a ship cruising at twenty-two knots were answered as the scene unfolded before our eyes. The five hydrofoils all fell into a single-file line, just outside the wide churning wake caused by the ship’s propulsion.