Terms Of Attraction

Two days later Ava was jogging across the tarmac at LAX to the private jet waiting for her. A man she remembered from Cael’s security detail at the civic center stood at the base of the steps leading into the plane. She flipped through her mental Rolodex. Bailey. Balsem. Benton. That was it. He’d been flanking de la Reyes’s other side when Cabrerra fired at the man, hitting the officer instead. He was around her age, with wavy brown hair and a friendly puppy dog face that belied the seriousness of his occupation.

When she would have hurried up the steps by him, he reached for her bag. “I’ll take care of this.”

“I can handle it.”

“Sorry.” He didn’t relinquish his grip on the suitcase. “Boss’s orders.”

Ava released the bag, hoping her uneasiness didn’t show. She’d refused most of the high-tech tools Samuelson had tried to press on her, but she had accepted the minicamera hidden inside what looked like a normal pen. All parts were plastic or ceramic to pass undetected through security.

Heading into the jet, she reassured herself it was unlikely the item would raise any concerns. She was a cop, and she wouldn’t have found the tiny camera if it hadn’t been shown to her. It certainly looked harmless enough, clipped to a slim notepad in a zippered side compartment.

She paused before heading down the aisle. The surroundings were considerably more opulent than any she’d flown in before. There were six rows with two wide, comfortable-looking leather seats on either side of the aisle. Through an open door in the back she noted another compartment complete with wet bar and couches.

McCabe was seated midway back next to de la Reyes, and the two discontinued their conversation when she made an appearance. The president spoke first.

“Detective Carter.” His face was wreathed in smiles. “It is a pleasure to see you again. Forgive me for not rising. My seat belt is fastened in preparation for departure.”

Cael lifted a brow at her. “You cut it close,” he noted.

Her nerves jittered. Considering the fact that she’d had to completely rearrange both her personal and private life in less than forty-eight hours, it was a miracle she’d made it on time.

And given her continued ambivalence about this task, it would have been a relief if the jet had taken off without her.

As the men resumed their conversation she took a free seat near the back behind an operative of Cael’s she remembered from before. Sibbits, she thought his name was. He was exceedingly thin, as if all excess flesh had been carved away. His receding hairline was graying, and cropped short. The rest of the plane’s occupants were part of de la Reyes’s entourage.

Benton boarded the plane, minus her bag, and took a seat up front. It didn’t take a rocket scientist to know that her luggage had been thoroughly searched before it had been stowed. The precaution only served to remind her of the precariousness of her situation. Until de la Reyes ascertained the level of infiltration, no one in his government was above suspicion.

And if Ava let her guard down in the slightest, a very different sort of suspicion would fall on her.

The jet’s engines revved. Moments later it began rolling along the runway. She’d never been a nervous flier, but the anxiety from her situation had her remaining seated upright, muscles tight with tension. So it must have been sheer exhaustion that had her asleep before they’d been in the air a half hour.

Awareness prickled beneath her subconscious. In the dim recesses of her mind, an alarm shrilled. Ava struggled to surface from slumber, but it was like swimming against a powerful current. She couldn’t manage to drag her eyes open.

She was floating in pale green seas, being tugged ashore by an unrelenting tide. The sensation might have been pleasant if she’d felt more in control. As it was, she fought against the inexorable force of nature, found herself betrayed by limbs that had turned weak and molten.

Opening her eyes, she was disoriented to see Cael’s face close to hers, his gaze fixed and intense. It was with no little embarrassment that she realized his eyes were the exact shade of the sea she’d been lost in only moments ago. Sleep shredded defenses and dignity with equal ease. Exploited vulnerabilities usually kept guarded.

“We’ll be landing in fifteen minutes.”

Averting her gaze, she raised her seat forward. “You should have wakened me earlier.”

“I figured you probably needed the sleep. It couldn’t have been easy making all the arrangements you had to on such short notice.”

The innocent words had remorse stabbing through her. She’d called him before she’d contacted DHS, half hoping he’d make the decision easy for her. If he hadn’t invited her along on this particular mission, she would have been off the hook, having done her “duty.”

But he hadn’t made it easy for her. And neither had Samuelson, with his air of condescension, as if her eventual acquiescence had never been in question. She didn’t know which made her feel worse, that she was deceiving a man who paid her salary for the duration of the job. Or that the money itself had played an undeniable part in her decision.

Turning back to McCabe, she said only, “What’s in place so far?” Regardless of Samuelson’s agenda for this trip, she was being paid to provide security protection, and that task would take precedence while she was in San Baltes.

His voice was pitched low. “I’ve got two men on the ground already. They’ll have completed some preliminary work prior to our arrival. De la Reyes was originally scheduled to return to San Baltes tomorrow. His men, including the pilot, just found out this morning of the change of plans. I’ve tried to make sure none of them have had access to outside communication.”

She asked shrewdly, “And the news of his early return has been leaked only to…?”

Cael gave her an approving look. “Rafael Gonzalez is de la Reyes’s chief of Presidential Guard. It’d be like our Secret Service. Pedro Cabrerra was his most senior officer.”

Ava’s spine prickled as she grasped his meaning. “Even if Gonzalez shares Cabrerra’s political leanings, he’d be crazy to try anything now. He has to realize his department will already be under suspicion.”

“Which also makes it more urgent that he act. His entire branch is about to undergo intense scrutiny. If Gonzalez is affiliated with the rebels, he has one last chance to strike before his access to President de la Reyes becomes curtailed.”

She nodded her understanding. “How do we know the rest of his security detail weren’t in on Cabrerra’s plan?”

Cael looked grim. “That’s one of the questions my operatives are checking into. They’re investigating all Cabrerra’s associates, discreetly, of course. I have them meeting us at the airport to provide more security for the trip to the presidential palace.”

“What will we have for weapons?”

“We’ll have access to enough firepower to hold off a small rebel contingent.” At her sharp glance, the corner of his mouth turned up. “Let’s hope it’s not needed. Our team will take over as the first security wave. The nationals will answer to us for now. You’ll be in a rotation providing personal protection to de la Reyes at all times.” His gaze raked her form. “I’ve got a vest for you. You’ll wear it every minute you’re on duty. And with the exception of the limited amount of time you’ll spend sleeping, you’ll always be on duty.” He waited a moment before saying quietly, “Regrets?”

“I don’t waste time on regrets.” It was almost true. There was no way to make amends for her past. No reason why she should feel the need to. Most of the time she believed that. But Samuelson had unerringly pressed exactly the right button to have that old guilt rising to the surface again.

“Good to know.”

There was something in his eyes, in his voice that had her glancing at him. Found him watching her, in much the same way he’d been when she’d first wakened. A slow heat suffused her body just recalling that moment. But she knew none of her inner embarrassment showed on her face. She’d learned long ago how to mask her emotions.

“You’re completely still when you sleep.” His voice had gone whisper soft. “Like a porcelain statue. Not even your expression changes. I imagine you’re like that when you’re in position for a shot.”

There was something curiously intimate in knowing that he’d watched her while she slept. No one else had ever had the opportunity, with the exception of her ex. She’d never “slept” with Alex’s birth father. Not in the literal sense.

She could feel heat crawling up her neck. Cael McCabe had a knack for catching her off guard, and that would have to change. She knew enough about him to realize he was a man to seize any vulnerability and turn it to his advantage.

She was already vulnerable enough. The deception she was engaged in made an undeniably dangerous situation even more explosive.

As the jet idled on the runway Ava donned her vest, then sat down to check the weapons she’d been assigned. Two men she didn’t recognize had carried them aboard from one of the three black SUVs parked nearby. Both were beauties, the handgun a nine-millimeter Lugar semiautomatic and a Remington rifle and scope that could have been twins to her SWAT equipment. She strapped on her holster and clipped the pouch of extra ammunition around her waist. Looking around, she saw everyone else similarly equipping themselves, with the exception of de la Reyes, who was speaking on a cell phone. She had protective garb for him, too, before he exited the jet.

She waited patiently as McCabe spoke quietly to the newcomers. They must be the men he said he had on the ground already, gathering intelligence. Switching her attention to the dark waiting vehicles, she surmised McCabe’s plan. The best way to arrange security would be to have the armored cars drive right up to the jet, load the bags and leave without ever entering the airport building. With a VIP like de la Reyes on board, she imagined, that wouldn’t be difficult to arrange.

McCabe and the two strangers got up and headed toward the door. Cael turned back, caught her eye. “Be ready to move out in five minutes.”

She nodded, rising to approach de la Reyes. He was speaking in rapid-fire Spanish, most of which she was able to follow. She was familiar enough with the language to converse with Hispanic victims on the job. She heard him tell whomever he was speaking to that he’d be arriving home tomorrow. So he was following Cael’s orders, at least for now. And from his tone, she thought he was speaking to a woman. McCabe hadn’t mentioned a wife, so maybe a girlfriend.

Glancing out the window, she saw McCabe walking close to the side of one of the SUVs, a long pole in his hand. Checking for bombs on the undercarriage of the vehicle, she noted with approval. He was leaving nothing to chance. The mirror on the other end of the pole would reveal anything hidden beneath. She had no doubt that the interior would be subjected to a similarly rigorous search.

Her spine prickled. His thoroughness was a chilling reminder that de la Reyes hadn’t been delivered to safety once he’d reached his homeland. Just the opposite.

Once de la Reyes ended the conversation, Ava slid into the seat next to him. “You’ll need to put this on before leaving the aircraft.” She handed him his vest. “Just as a precaution.”

The man eyed the garment for a moment before reaching for it. “Mr. McCabe leaves nothing to chance.”

Ava helped him into the vest, expertly fastening it for him. “That quality of his will work in your favor. Your situation calls for caution.”