Bodyguard Lockdown(28)

“And you followed in your father’s footsteps. You chose research to get his attention,” Booker reasoned. “Was it the career you wanted?”

“Yes,” she defended. “Even if I originally became a research scientist for my father, I learned to love my job.”

“And the last few years? What about those?”

“I needed a break, Booker.”

“No, Doc, you’ve been paying penance for screwing up. You came back here, stuck close to your father. Helping him with the royals, because of guilt.”

“When I first found out about Andon, I used to daydream about how my family’s life would have been so much better if he had lived. One big happy family.”

Booker finally understood. “You pursued the research on rapid healing because of your brother’s death.”

“Yes,” Sandra replied. “Logically, I couldn’t have stopped his death, but somehow I’d always wished...”

“That you could have saved your brother.” Booker sighed. “Nothing you do will bring Andon back.”

“Maybe not,” she acknowledged. “But with these cylinders, I might be able to save another family member.”

Booker’s eyes snapped to hers. “What do you mean?”

“I only told one person about my flight to Tourlay. The same person who told me Trygg had escaped.”

“Who?”

“My father.”

* * *

“YOU HAVE NO intention of destroying those cylinders, do you?” Booker demanded. “You need them for a bargaining chip with Trygg. You need to find out how deep your father is involved, and you think you can get Trygg to tell you if you promise him the cylinders.”

“He’s my father,” she said simply.

“Damn it, Doc.” Booker grabbed her arm, pulled her closer. “What makes you think Trygg will tell you the truth?”

“I have to try.” She tugged on her arm, realized she wasn’t going anywhere.

Sandra froze. She saw the anger. The icy blue eyes, the set of his jaw.

But he wasn’t surprised.

“You knew, didn’t you?” Sandra asked, her own rage making her words sharp. “You already knew my father was involved.”

Booker paused a moment. That’s when Sandra saw the flash of truth. If she hadn’t been studying him so close she would’ve missed it.

“Don’t you dare lie to me, McKnight.” Her threat came out in a hiss.

“I suspected your father’s involvement soon after I started my investigation five years ago,” Booker acknowledged. “But if my suspicion is right, he’s been involved much longer than that.”

“Longer...” Sandra shook her head, sharp jerks that showed her confusion, her fear and hurt. “Involvement in what?”

Booker noted the set of her chin, the stubborn line of her mouth, slamming it all back behind faith and trust in her father.

Brave. Loyal. Beautiful. Just like Aaron Sabra had said.

Booker stiffened. Damn it! He should have known. “Doc, does your father know Aaron Sabra?”

“No.” She thought for a moment. “Not that I know of. Why?”

“Because Aaron told me about Trygg’s escape only hours after it had happened. I don’t like coincidences.”

“Neither do I,” Jim Rayo stated from the mouth of the cave entrance.

Sandra and Booker swung around. The colonel held a machine gun, its barrel leveled at Sandra.

“Hand me the bag, McKnight,” he said almost pleasantly.

Two men stood behind him, both with matching machine guns. One keeping watch on the outside. The other staring at Sandra.



Booker stepped in front of Sandra. “You should listen to me when I tell you that you should walk away from all of this, Jim.”

“I take orders from just one person, McKnight. Now if you move again, these bullets will go through you and into her,” Rayo stated. “The only way you are going to keep her safe is to cooperate with me.”

“How did you find us?” Sandra asked. “The storm washed out any tire tracks in the ravine.”

Jim Rayo tapped the back of his head. “After my men kidnapped you, they inserted a GPS pin at the base of your skull. Under the skin.”

Booker swore.

Sandra touched the base of her hairline, remembered the cut. “This whole chase was a setup?”

“You were always meant to get away,” Jim explained. “McKnight managed to release you earlier than expected, but it all worked out.”

He glanced at the bag. “We suspected you wouldn’t give up their location easily, so we decided to let you lead us to the cylinders. Once I realized Booker came to the rescue, I sent men after you to throw off any suspicion and to motivate you to recover the cylinders. Then I tracked you here,” Jim explained matter-of-factly.

Lewis Pitman stepped into the cave, his face flushed, his breath coming in short gasps. “You could’ve waited for me, Colonel.”

“Hello, Lewis,” Sandra spat. “You should have done us all a favor and fallen off the mountain.”

“I missed you, too, Sandra,” Lewis sneered, then turned to Jim. “Do you finally have them?”

“Give me the cylinders, McKnight,” Jim ordered.

Slowly, Booker tossed the bag to Jim. The colonel caught it with his free hand. He glanced inside, then handed the bag off to Lewis. “Take this back to the helicopter.”

“Helicopter?” Sandra frowned. “But I didn’t hear—”

“They rappelled from above.” Booker nodded toward the gear that hung from the colonel’s waist.

“Always easier,” Rayo answered, then caught Lewis before he left. “Have the men check the perimeter then join you. I’ll be there in a few minutes. With our prisoners.”

When Lewis hesitated, Jim snapped, “That’s an order, Lewis.”

Lewis frowned, but said nothing. Instead, he turned on his heel and walked out of the cave.

“He doesn’t like you, Rayo,” Booker commented, smirking. “Imagine that.”

Jim’s jaw tightened, but he remained silent, waited until Lewis left. “I have a few questions before we go, McKnight.”

“I see you’re still scraping and bowing to the general.” Booker’s gaze stayed on Rayo’s weapon. “I figured you would have smartened up by now. Most of those who work for Trygg end up dead. Yet he still continues to thrive.”

“Those who have died did so for the right reasons or because they betrayed those same reasons,” Jim replied. “Trygg’s vision is sound, Booker.”



“Even if his mind isn’t?”

“I don’t want your opinions—I want answers,” Jim snapped. “That day when your men died. At Osero. Why were you called away?”

“All right. Since you have the gun, I’ll go along,” Booker replied with a shrug. “I was ordered to escort Doctor Omar Haddad back to Taer. As his personal envoy.”

Sandra gasped. “My father? You were with my father?”

“Yes.” Booker’s gaze caught and held hers, willing her to leave the questions until later.

“Who issued those orders?” Jim demanded.

“Trygg.” Booker widened his stance. “Surprised me, too. So much, I verified the orders with Senator Harper.”

Jim’s fist tightened on the weapon. “That’s impossible. Leaving you alive served no purpose. If anything, it placed the operation in jeopardy.”

“I’m flattered that you think so much of me, Jim,” Booker mocked. “Trygg’s reasoning might not make sense to you, but then again, Trygg isn’t known for sharing all aspects of his strategies. It’s not his style. You know that better than anyone.”

When Jim didn’t answer, Booker took advantage of the silence and shifted forward. Jim lifted the machine gun to his shoulder. “I’m surprised, McKnight, not stupid. You take another step and I will kill you.”

“Just wanted to hear you better.” Booker raised his hands, but his feet stayed planted. “Trygg played you from the beginning, Jim.”

“That’s a lie.” Jim spoke low, clipped each word off with a razor-sharp edge.

“He undermined your self-confidence, taking advantage of the one mistake you made when you were twenty-two years old.”



“He saved me from my mistake.”

“He set you up.”

Jim’s eyes narrowed. “I’ve had it with your theories, McKnight—”

“I’ve had five years. That’s a long time to learn about one’s enemies,” Booker reasoned. “And if you know anything about me, you know I’m thorough.”