Soldier Under Siege Page 13

  Wow. Clearly he had some problems.

  Eva flopped down on the shabby sofa and opened the laptop. “Password?” she asked Ben.

  “No password. I hardly ever use that thing.”

  A perplexed groove dug into her forehead. “You don’t? Where do you store all your personal information?”

  Ben tapped his temple with his index finger. “Everything I need is right in here.”

  She grinned. “You’re an old-school kinda guy, huh?”

  “You know it, baby-cakes.”

  Baby-cakes?

  Tate resisted the urge to shake his head in bewilderment as he listened to their exchange. Ten minutes ago, Ben had been eyeing Eva like she was a threat to national security, and then one good-natured wisecrack on her part and they were best buds?

  Yet somehow that didn’t surprise him one damned bit. Eva Dolce, he’d come to learn, was incredibly easy to be around. Too damn likable for her own good.

  “I can’t believe you get wireless here,” she commented, as her fingers moved over the laptop’s track pad.

  “San Marquez isn’t a total failure in the technology department,” Ben agreed.

  Eva’s face set in intense concentration as she studied the screen, her long, delicate fingers flying over the keyboard. “Mind if I explore your hard drive? I need to get a sense of what I’m working with here.”

  “Explore away.”

  It didn’t take long before Eva mumbled a string of aggravated curses that had Tate and Ben exchanging a look.

  “This computer sucks,” she announced, lifting her head with an expression of disgust.

  Ben held up his meaty hands in surrender. “Like I said, I’m old-school.”

  “I’m serious. I cannot emphasize how much this computer sucks. Not enough RAM to run any of my software. Hell, even the internet browser takes an eternity to load.” She huffed out a breath. “It’s not fast enough.”

  Ben didn’t look at all bothered. “I told you, I barely use that thing. Only to check my email every now and then.”

  Tate noticed that Eva now looked distraught. Catching his eye, she bit her bottom lip, then said, “I can’t help you. At least not using this system.”

  He shrugged. “It’s fine, Eva.” He neglected to add that he hadn’t expected her to find anything of use anyway.

  “No, it’s not. I promised I’d find out why people want you dead.” Her mouth tightened in determination and when she looked at him again, he glimpsed that same fortitude in her big blue eyes. “Let me contact my friend, Tate.”

  “No way,” he said instantly.

  “I promise you, he’s discreet. And he’s good, even better than I am. He can hack into any system without being detected.”

  Tate remained doubtful.

  “I’m serious,” she insisted. “He’s the one who helped me get into the army database, and so far, the military police haven’t come knocking on either of our doors, so clearly nobody knew we got in.”

  “And how do you get in?” Ben spoke up, sounding intrigued.

  “Depends on what we’re trying to do.”

  She ran a hand through her hair, and Tate’s fingers itched to slide through those long, damp tresses. And the way she kept chewing on her bottom lip...it made his own lips tingle with the urge to kiss her again. Christ. Why the hell couldn’t he stop thinking about kissing this woman?

  Shaking the cobwebs from his head, he tried to focus on the words coming out of Eva’s mouth rather than on that sensual mouth itself.

  “Most people think hackers are evil, looking to stick it to ‘the man’ and infect the world with virtual viruses, or to steal from corporations and hardworking folks, or simply to cause trouble for the hell of it. But that’s not what hacker culture is about,” she said, sounding so animated Tate fought a smile.

  Ben looked equally amused. “So what is it about?”

  “Challenge. Curiosity. We’re visionaries. Pioneers. Sure, there are some hackers who have malicious intentions, but the majority of us don’t do what we do to hurt anyone. We embrace the challenge of getting into a system nobody else can, or one that programmers brag can’t be breached.”

  “Doesn’t make it any less illegal,” Ben quipped.

  “No,” she agreed, “but sometimes it ends up helping the people whose privacy we violated. Like my friend, for example, he breaks into systems and then creates programs that implement better security measures, which he sells to the companies that utilize the vulnerable security pathways he breached in the first place.”

  Ben grinned. “But I bet he doesn’t tell them that.”

  She grinned back. “No, not usually.” The smile faded and her features grew serious again as she glanced at Tate. “If I had my computer with me, I could run my own software, but you made me leave my laptop behind.” She punctuated that with a scowl. “But if you let me contact my friend, he can do the grunt work for us.”

  “Let me guess, for a price,” he said sardonically.

  “Actually, no. He owes me one.” That sassy grin played over her lips again. “He owes me tens of thousands, in fact.”

  Because she’d stolen from the ULF, Tate remembered. With the help of this “friend,” whom she’d no doubt monetarily rewarded for his troubles. From what he was starting to know of Eva, she was all about returning favors. He got the feeling she didn’t like owing anyone anything, and that was a mindset he totally understood. Outstanding debts had no place in his life, either.

  “He can be trusted, Tate. Just say the word, and I’ll contact him and get the ball rolling.”

  Indecision washed over him, but he couldn’t bring himself to turn down the offer. Nick and Sebastian were good with computers, but they weren’t first-class hackers or anything. That honor had gone to Berkowski, the tech specialist of their unit.

  Bitterness clogged his throat. Unfortunately, Berk was dead, and unless Tate got some answers, he’d never be able to know why Berkowski had died.

  “Fine,” he said gruffly. “Contact your friend.”

  When her features brightened, he held up his hand and fixed her with a toxic look. “But if this friend double-crosses me, make no mistake, I’ll be holding you responsible, sweetheart.”

  She rolled those beautiful blue eyes. “Shocking. Just add it to the list of all the other negatives you attribute to me—I’m a secret government agent, I’m a liar, I’m in cahoots with my uncle...anything else I’m forgetting?”

  Tate’s only response was a hard frown.

  Next to him, Ben chuckled. “I think I like her.”

  * * *

  Dinner consisted of a lamb stew prepared by Ben, and after three days of eating Meals Ready to Eat, Eva devoured the delicious home-cooked meal like a starving woman. As the trio sat around the lopsided table in Ben’s small kitchen, she surreptitiously studied the men and tried to make sense of their unlikely friendship.

  Ironically, neither man behaved in a way that corresponded to his appearance. While Tate was ruggedly handsome and sinfully sexy, his personality was thorny, brooding and sarcastic—which was what she’d have expected from Ben, whose harsh features and enormous body were incongruous with his laid-back charm and easy laughter.

  Ben had explained that the two of them had struck up a friendship during basic training in the army, but while Tate had remained in the military, Ben only completed one tour before moving to South America to “retire.” Eva suspected Tate’s friend was involved in shady enterprises, but she’d yet to figure out what he actually did for a living.

  After dinner, she helped Ben clear the table, then accepted the beer he handed her. Once again, the two men drifted onto the back terrace. This time she joined them, refusing to let them shut her out again. She knew they intended to discuss the plan for taking out Hector, and she’d be damned if she didn’t have a say in how it went down.

  Tate frowned as she leaned against the wooden railing, but he didn’t order her to leave, a fact for which she was grateful.

 
; “I can’t see you walking out of this alive. Either one of you.”

  Ben’s frank remark brought a spark of panic to Eva’s gut. She met the man’s dark eyes, then turned to Tate. “Do you think he’s right?”

  “Probably.” He shrugged. “But I knew from the start that there’d be a fifty-fifty chance I’d end up dead.”

  She was not expecting to hear that.

  “Then why did you agree to come with me?” she demanded, baffled.

  Although he didn’t respond, his silence spoke volumes.

  He’d agreed to this mission because he didn’t care if he died. As long as he got to kill Hector, Captain Robert Tate was perfectly willing to give up his life.

  The realization intensified her panic. No. This couldn’t be a suicide mission. Tate might be okay with dying, but she refused to die. She had a three-year-old son to live for.

  “I get it,” she said evenly. “You want Hector eliminated and you don’t care if you die trying. But I care. I will do anything in my power to go home to my son, which means you can’t half-ass any of the planning for this.”

  Ben grinned at her. “You tell him, honey.”

  Without cracking a smile, she lifted her beer to her lips and took a long sip. When she felt a little calmer, she glanced at Tate again. “So how are we going to do this?”

  “You tell me.” His green eyes twinkled briefly with amusement before going hard. “You’re the one who’s familiar with Hector’s camp.”

  “Should I draw you a map of everything I remember?”

  She was already moving to put down her beer, but Tate waved a hand. “Later. Right now I just want a general overview. You said he’s hiding out in the mountains?”

  Eva nodded. “In an underground bunker. The entrance is carved right into the rocks. You’d walk right past it if you’re not looking for it.”

  “Only one entrance?” He sounded dubious.

  “Two that I know of. The main one in the rocks, and another way out through the western foothills. There’s one tunnel running beneath the bunker, leading out to the hills.”

  She halted, noticing that both men were staring at her. “What?” she said defensively.

  “How exactly are you privy to these details?” Ben asked before exchanging a look with Tate.

  “You never said you’ve been inside,” Tate added, a suspicious cloud traveling over his face.

  She gulped. “I told you, I supported the ULF cause at one time.”

  “Enough for Cruz to bring you to his secret lair?”

  “I—we, Rafe’s father and I—were close with Hector. We were attempting to find a way to move supplies to the needy areas of the region using the relief foundation’s resources. We held a lot of strategy sessions in that bunker.”

  The lies slid from her mouth, smooth as cream, but she couldn’t afford to feel guilty about it. Besides, the fiction sounded so much nicer than the reality of it all. Strategy sessions in Hector’s bunker? She wished their association had been that benign.

  She spoke before the men could question her previous remarks. “The main entrance is guarded, but the one in the hills isn’t.”

  “You sure about that?” Tate said sharply.

  “It’s Hector’s secret escape route. He doesn’t draw attention to it. Inside the tunnel is another story—there’s a guard posted at the exit door, and a couple more by the ladder that leads up to the bunker.”

  Tate glanced at Ben. “Thoughts?”

  The African-American looked pensive. “Clearly the entry point will be the foothills. Getting in will be easy, Robert, you know that. It’s getting out that’ll be the problem.”

  “I know,” Tate said grimly. “What if we create some chaos? Draw the guards to one entrance and make sure they stay there, giving me enough time to sneak in through the tunnel, take out Hector and then get out the way I came.”

  “What do you mean, you?” Eva said in confusion.

  He spared her a brief look. “Once we reach the camp, you’re out of this, sweetheart. I go in and take care of Hector alone.”

  Surprise spiraled through her. “But why?”

  “You said it, Eva. You have a son to go home to. I don’t.” He met her eyes, looking vaguely embarrassed before he wrenched his gaze away. “Once I’m convinced you’ve led me to the right place—and that I’m not walking into an ambush—Ben and I will handle it from there.”

  She turned to Ben. “Wait—you’re coming, too?”

  “Of course. Who else is gonna create the chaos? Speaking of which, I should head out.” The big man polished off the rest of his beer before tossing the empty bottle into the plastic bucket by the door. “There are a few more items I need to procure. It might take all night, so don’t wait up.”

  As Ben lumbered off, Eva furrowed her brows. “What exactly does he do?” she blurted out. “What items is he procuring and why will it take all night to get them?”

  Tate chuckled. “Ben’s what you’d call a middleman. If you need something, he hooks you up with someone who can provide it for you.”

  “Something?” she echoed warily. “Like weapons? Drugs?”

  “He has the strings to get you anything you want, but weapons and information are his specialties.”

  Again with the whole information-as-a-commodity thing. Eva made a mental note to look into that when all this was over. With her skill on a computer, she might actually be able to make a darn good living selling information, but that was an idea for another day. Right now, she had to focus on the task at hand.

  “Why don’t I draw that map now?” she suggested. “Maybe if you see what the interior of the bunker looks like, it’ll help you come up with a plan.”

  Tate nodded in agreement. He threw his head back and drained his beer, then followed her inside and watched as she rummaged around in the kitchen for some scrap paper and a pencil.

  Rather than join her at the table, he edged toward the doorway. “I’m gonna hop in the shower while you do that,” he said, scrubbing a hand over the beard covering his jaw.

  “Okay,” she said absently, already sketching the basic outline of the bunker.

  After Tate left the room, she tried to focus on constructing a detailed map for him, but it wasn’t long before the sound of the shower distracted her.

  Eva lifted the pencil from the page, feeling her cheeks go hot as she listened to the water running. She couldn’t help herself—she pictured Tate, big and hard and naked beneath the spray, soapy water coursing in rivulets down his broad chest, gliding over rippled muscles and hard sinew.

  I knew from the start that there’d be a fifty-fifty chance I’d end up dead.

  His words continued to haunt her. Did he really not care if he died? Because if that was the case, why was he bothering to hide out at all? Why not just let himself be killed by the people who were after him?

  For his men.

  The answer flew into her head, making her sigh. Of course. Tate wasn’t trying to figure out the truth about that failed mission for his sake. He was doing it for Nick Prescott and Sebastian Stone.

  Chewing on the inside of her cheek, Eva set down the pencil and stood up, too wound up to focus on the map. She knew Tate and Ben wouldn’t leave this cabin until they had a solid plan in place, but she wished they could just go after Hector tonight. Now, even. She missed her son, and she was tired of feeling so...edgy.

  Tate made her feel hot and uncomfortable and...well, edgy, damn it. The sexual awareness she felt in his presence was beginning to drive her nuts, though in her defense, maybe she’d be able to ignore it if he didn’t keep kissing her every five minutes.

  Okay, fine. He’d only kissed her twice.

  But those two kisses had packed a hell of a punch.

  Her ears perked at the sound of pipes groaning, and then the water stopped.

  Somehow, she found herself making her way to the corridor. She heard quiet noises from behind the bathroom door—footsteps, the squeak of the faucet, running water, a toilet
flushing. When she saw the doorknob twist, she ordered herself to dash back to the living room, but her feet stayed rooted in place.

  She was standing right outside the door when it opened.

  Tate frowned the second he saw her. “What’s going on?” he asked instantly.

  Eva couldn’t answer. Her vocal cords had stopped working the second she laid eyes on his bare chest. Hard pecs and washboard abs and sleek, golden skin assaulted her vision. He wore a towel that rode precariously low on his hips, a sight that made her entire mouth go drier than sawdust.

  “What do you want, Eva?” he asked in a tight voice.

  She met his green eyes and saw unmistakable arousal flashing back at her. The smart thing to do would be to walk away, but her feet refused to comply.

  Tate waited a few seconds, then sighed when she still didn’t answer. “Fine. We’ll deal with this later. I’m getting dressed.”

  She blocked his path. Her gaze dropped to his towel, then moved back to his face. A wry note entered her voice. “Don’t bother.”

  His eyes narrowed. “Don’t bother what?”

  “Getting dressed.” She brought her hand to his chest and stroked the spot between his pecs. “We both know any clothes you put on will come right off, anyway.”

  Tate inhaled sharply and she felt his pectoral muscles quiver beneath her fingers. “You’re playing with fire, sweetheart.”

  She tickled his flat, brown nipples with the pads of her fingers. “We’ve both been playing with fire since the moment we met,” she corrected.

  Licking her lips, she reached for his hand. After a moment, he intertwined their fingers and studied her face one last time, his green eyes blazing with passion. “You sure about this?”

  She stared at their joined hands, then met his gaze. “Who knows what tomorrow will bring, right?”

  His voice came out gruff. “Meaning?”

  “Meaning we may as well enjoy ourselves tonight.”

  Chapter 11

  The bedroom was dark when they entered it. Eva paused at the foot of the twin bed and studied their darkened surroundings, baffled by the total lack of furnishings. Ben’s room consisted of nothing but the bed, a table littered with books, and half a dozen duffel bags on the floor. No dresser, no desk, not even a closet.