Closer (The Unit #1) Page 2

  Emma and Bethany took the stairs down four flights. Emma tried to take the stairs as much as possible. Over the last two years, she had put on an extra twenty pounds. She wasn’t obese, but she was overweight. Standing at five foot eight, her weight had been holding steady at one hundred sixty pounds. She desperately wanted to lose those extra pounds and get back to her pre-stress weight. She did not, however, have time to exercise. That was her excuse. The truth was that by the time Emma got home from her extra-long days at the office, all she wanted to do was to curl up with the latest romance novel and dream her night away. If she couldn’t find a real romance, she certainly could find one in her dreams. She was good at escaping into her fictional characters’ worlds. She loved the intensity and dalliance she found in her book boyfriends. They always treated her right and most importantly, mentally stimulated her. That was the reason she quit dating before she had been awarded this project. She would find a guy who was mentally stimulating, but did nothing for her in the chemistry department. Or, she would find someone she was chemically attracted to, but he could not stimulate her mind. So, she devoted herself to her work; everything else would just have to wait.

  Reaching the bottom of the stairs, they turned right to the security desk. “Hi Paul. I need my belongings. I’m headed out,” she said to the security officer. He handed her purse and cell phone to her. She shoved her cell phone into her purse and pushed open the door. Stepping outside, the cold air smacked her in the face. She was so ready for spring. Tightening her coat around her, she crossed her arms in front of her body, and tucked her hands under her arms. She walked, head down, to the Corner Stone Deli in comfortable silence with Bethany.

  They reached the Deli and placed their order. Emma behaved and ordered a turkey and veggie sandwich minus the bag of chips with a water to drink. Bethany, God love her, had the metabolism of an eighteen year old. She could eat whatever her heart desired and not gain a pound. She had the perfect figure; one the guys couldn’t get enough of. Where Bethany had long blond hair that curled loosely over her shoulders, Emma had wavy, dark auburn, shoulder length hair that she always wore in a chignon. Bethany also had the height of a model, a cool five foot ten with killer legs, not that Emma was jealous. Emma was just so competitive, she didn’t like looking up to anyone.

  “So, how’s work going?” Bethany inquired sitting herself down at a table nearest the large display window looking out onto the street.

  “You know I can’t talk about work. Why do you always ask? Don’t you have any juicy stories to tell me so I can live vicariously through you?” Emma asked, smiling brightly at her friend.

  “Since you asked, because you know I wouldn’t have brought it up otherwise, there is something.” Bethany responded.

  Yeah right.

  “I went out last night with Aaron. It was our second date,” Bethany taunted. “He could not keep his hands to himself. I finally had to tell him enough was enough, and I wasn’t interested in taking it any further than second base. I let him feel me up, but that was it.”

  Bethany still used middle-school terms to describe her sexual escapades. And God knows there were a great number of them. Bethany wasn’t a slut; she just truly enjoyed the company of men.

  “So, how was he? Was he a good kisser?” Emma wondered as she took a bite of her turkey and veggie sandwich.

  “No, God, he was awful. For such a good-looking man, he had a drooling problem. His kisses were too sloppy. I had a hard time continuing to kiss him,” Bethany cackled, “I almost gagged.”

  “Then why did you let him continue?” Emma wondered as she put down her sandwich and wiped at her mouth.

  “Because I didn’t want to be rude.” Bethany explained.

  For such a brilliant girl, Bethany could really be stupid at times. The conversation continued on and reached its inevitable conclusion of Bethany politely declining a third date with the man.

  “In a month or so, want to take a trip to Cancun? Just you, me, and Ashely?” Emma inquired as she wiped the last traces of her sandwich away.

  Bethany shoved her last bite into her mouth and exclaimed, “Hell yeah!”

  “Great! I will talk to Ashley and then make the arrangements,” Emma said as she sipped the last of her water. “I will let you know how much, and we can narrow down the dates. I want to do it soon though. Deal?” Emma asked.

  “Deal!” Bethany declared, slurping the last bit of her Diet Coke through her straw. Emma was not at all looking forward to going outside. From the front window of the deli she could see the biting cold wind blowing the dust and debris around in circles on the street.

  As Emma sat listening to Bethany go on about what she was going to wear on her newest date with a man she had just met at a club the previous weekend, the hair on the back of her nape stood on end. An uneasy feeling washed over her. She looked around. She could feel someone watching her. She knew intellectually they probably had spies stationed at her high-security building, so it wasn’t out of the realm of possibility she was being followed. Emma did not get to where she was by relying on her instincts. No. Emma had a brain, and by God, she used it. She looked out of the window and only noticed the regular lunch crowd on their way to and from the downtown office buildings; nothing seemed out of order. She was just paranoid. Maybe it was just a draft from the door opening with a new rush of people. That would clearly explain the chill that came over her. Still, what about the feeling that someone was watching her? Maybe she had an admirer. Now she was just being silly.

  “Are you ready? I need to get back to work,” Emma said uneasily as she started to stand, her gaze still riveted to the streets outside the building. Absentmindedly, she grabbed for her coat.

  “What are you looking for?” Bethany wondered as she stood up with Emma, shrugging on her own jacket.

  They threw their trash in the garbage can and placed their trays on top then walked out into the blustery cold weather, tightening their arms around their middles, effectively hugging themselves. Emma wanted to get away from the Deli and back to the sanctuary that was her office and laboratory. She walked faster and Bethany, with her long legs, had no trouble keeping up. Finally, they made it into their building, throwing open the door, proceeding back to the security guard’s desk.

  Emma said, “Here are my things, Paul. I should be out of here tonight around 7:00.” She handed him her purse and cell phone to be placed in lockup. Emma began to relax; the feeling of being watched subsiding. “That was weird,” Emma mumbled as she made her way to the stairs.

  “What was?” Bethany inquired clueless.

  As they walked up the four flights to Emma’s floor, before Emma opened her door, she told Bethany how she felt like someone had been watching her. Bethany told her she was just being paranoid. “After all, who would be stalking you?” Bethany scoffed. Boy she could be rude.

  “You’re right,” Emma sighed as she opened the door to her busy floor. People were milling about working on their projects. Emma told Bethany she would talk to her later and let the door close safely behind her. She entered the safety and security of her lab.

  ∞

  Michael had never seen a creature so beautiful in his life, and she was working for a terrorist group? What was the world coming to? He received his package via courier that morning. In it was a picture of Emma Welby along with her vital statistics. He decided the best course of action was to watch her routine. He could figure out her most vulnerable point and take her then. He’d followed her from her office to the Deli where she and her rather attractive friend had had lunch. He’d watched through the window as they laughed and talked with each other. They were good friends, anyone could tell by their parallel body language. Even the way they’d wrapped their arms around the middle of their bodies once in the cold was the same. They loved each other; that was obvious. They invaded each other’s personal space with an ease of longtime friends as they huddled together for their trek back to their office. He’d watched as she entered her build
ing, but lost sight of her when she entered the stairwell. His Intel did not say what floor she worked on, only the building’s name. He’d arrived ahead of time to make sure he didn’t miss her going into the building. He’d been granted with her beauty a second time when she made her way to the Deli. He couldn’t believe he was actually attracted to a mark. He had to remind himself that she was strictly a paycheck and a way to keep America safe.

  He’d waited, huddled in his parked car. Every hour or so he got out of his car and placed money in the parking meter. The last thing he needed was a parking ticket indicating he had been outside of her place of employment. He was parked far enough away that no one paid him any mind. Using the down time to plan, he decided to follow her home and wait until she was relaxed; then he would take her.

  He had to wait until 1900, when she exited the building. His Intel informed him she had an apartment in the city and a cabin in the mountains. Where would they be going tonight?

  It was dark, which made it easier for him to follow her and not be seen. His Intel provided that she drove a red Subaru Forester four-by-four. Spotting her vehicle exiting the parking garage, he pulled out from his spot and followed a few cars behind her in his Jeep Grand Cherokee. Spending time in the mountains necessitated his need for the four-by-four vehicle, and he was damn lucky. He was going to need it to make it into the mountains, which he suspected was where they were heading on this Friday night. He carefully stayed several car lengths behind her. About two hours later, she was pulling into her driveway, which went up to her weekend cabin in the Sugarloaf Mountains. This girl had everything he wanted. He parked at the base of the driveway pulling out of sight behind some thick evergreen trees. He made his way, by foot, to her A-frame log cabin. The front was nothing but high windows. “She must have an incredible view of the mountains from her home,” he thought. He bet she loved it there. He would.

  He perched outside the back of her home, waiting until she settled in for the evening. Thank goodness his training had prepared him to be patient and prepared in any circumstance. His mental fortitude was strong, thanks to the abuse he suffered. What could he say? He took it willingly. At any time he could have quit training, but he wanted to be a Green Beret more than anything else in his life. He was extremely physically fit, had passed all of the tests, even some of the more rigorous ones designed to break the strongest of men. The night was cold, but it didn’t affect him. He felt his Beretta against his forearm as he squatted and peered through Emma’s kitchen window. He would bide his time and wait for the perfect opportunity. Not wanting to rush such an expensive and important mission, kidnapping a person loyal to the Armed Islamic Group (GIA), he patiently waited in the bitterly cold temperatures. He was lucky if the thermometer read nine; add in the wind-chill factor, and he was sure it was negative nine. He did, however, have a fantastic view of the surrounding mountains. He looked behind him and admired the glow of the moon, the way the moonlight lite the tops of the trees in the forest that surrounded Emma’s cabin.

  Her lights were on, but it was dark outside which gave him the perfect view inside her home. He noticed her make her way upstairs and turn on the bedroom light. Thank God she didn’t have a single curtain on any window. She undressed and pulled on her pajama bottoms and a tank top. He watched, mesmerized by the sight of her figure in the window. He could see her ample bosom. He liked a woman with large breasts, but there was something more to her than just her breasts; he was drawn to her. There was something about her body that had his aching for her touch. How was he going to survive this kidnapping? He just had to keep reminding himself she was working for the bad guys. She turned off her bedroom light and made her way back downstairs. She walked into her spacious kitchen and poured herself something to drink. Then she made her way into the living room and set her glass on the coffee table. She took out her laptop and sat on the couch. He watched as she pulled an old afghan cover over her legs and brought her laptop to her lap. She was finally relaxing into the false security of her cabin retreat.

  « Chapter Three »

  He waited for forty-five minutes before he approached the back door. All he needed was his lock-picking tools, and he would be inside her home in a matter of seconds. He picked the lock, entered her kitchen, and closed the door quietly behind him. It was spacious with wooden cabinets and a U-shaped counter top, which doubled as a breakfast bar. The breakfast bar separated the kitchen from a breakfast nook area where her kitchen table sat. The exposed oak beams of her ceiling were high and steepled and ran throughout the kitchen and, he assumed, the rest of the house. On top of the kitchen sat a quiet little loft with a banister as a half wall. That was where her bedroom was located. He could tell from the layout of the windows. He moved quietly past the kitchen table and hid himself behind the stone-faced hearth of her fireplace. He was hidden from view, but he could see her sitting on the couch, which was perpendicular to the fireplace. Blond hardwood floors ran throughout the cabin. He could see in several places on the floor the growth rings of the trees, which told him he wasn’t looking at laminate but at real hardwood. She must make a pretty penny to afford this cabin. The walls were a rich, burnt orange color that accented the floors. The stone hearth fireplace was placed in the center of the room and the stairs wrapped around the fireplace on the left side. He focused on the living room. Large windows looking out over the mountain range were in every room. The oak beams he noticed in the kitchen did, in fact, run throughout the entire home. He pulled his gun quietly from his side holster and approached her. She was engrossed in her laptop and oblivious to his body moving quietly. He stood a foot away from her when he first spoke.

  “Be still,” he commanded.

  She jumped up dropping her laptop to the floor and scrambled to the farthest corner of the couch. Their eyes connected and he felt it to his very core. She lit a fire in him that had long since been dormant. He moved closer to her taking care to keep the gun aimed at her head. He noticed to his left a wet bar made of the same blond wood. The wet bar had a loaded wine case above the counter and wine glasses hanging from a holder. What’s her favorite flavor of wine? Whoa! “Where did that come from,” he thought. She works for the bad guys, remember? “What do you want,” Emma asked coolly as she cowered against the side arm of her couch.

  “I want you to get up slowly and move into the kitchen,” he said.

  Across from the red leather couch she was sitting on sat another leather couch of the same make, both facing each other and perpendicular to the fireplace. Directly in front of the fireplace and against the back wall sat a reclining chair and a rocking chair. Her furniture was new, not like his hand-me-downs. The terrorist business must pay well. Still, he couldn’t help but admire her sitting there on her couch.

  Emma did as he bid. She rose, and he moved closer to her. He was now wedged between the coffee table and the couch, standing less than a foot in front of her. Nerve endings were firing all over his body; he could feel the pull of his groin. She was affecting him in the most primal of ways. He flicked his gun at her, indicating for her to move past him and into the kitchen. He did not move as she brushed past him electrifying him with the barest of touches. He followed her into the kitchen and commanded her to sit down. She lowered herself to sit upon her kitchen chair. He pulled open the duffle bag he’d stored by the kitchen door and pulled out the rope.

  She had delicate porcelain skin. She wore no make-up, but still she was the most beautiful creature he had ever laid eyes on. Her dark auburn hair fell around her shoulders. Her demure nose accented her deep blue eyes. She had the fullest, naturally red, pouty lips he had ever seen. She wore those sexy, stylish glasses, which did not detract from her penetrating eyes. Her ass was a little bigger, especially at the hips, just the way he liked his women—curvy. She was definitely doing something to him. His erection was pushing against his dark pants.

  “What do you want?” she asked again sitting still in the chair mindful his gun was pointed directly at her head.
/>
  He approached her with the rope. He knelt behind her and caught her scent. She smelled of earthy goodness mixed with lavender. He felt heady from the need she was creating within him. He could not bring himself to mark her perfect porcelain skin, so he tied her hands more loosely than he normally would have. He would have a gun on her the whole time anyway.

  “What do you want?” she demanded again, frustrated she couldn’t get him to answer.

  He wanted her underneath him, to feel her body respond to his touch, but he remained closed-lipped. He would never do that; he would never take advantage of a woman. He couldn’t. He jerked her chair until her knees were facing his chest. He reached up and tucked a strand of her hair behind her ear, but she jerked her head away from his touch.

  He reached for her face again and again she jerked her head away. What the fuck was going on? Did he plan on raping her? Oh God, her worst nightmare come true. She would fight. She would fight with everything she had. She tested her ropes and found they weren’t that tight. She might be able to free herself from her bonds. “Whom do you work for? Why are you here?” she rambled on in exasperation.

  The back of his fingers came close to caress her face again and again she felt his touch the whole way to her soul. It was as if his was the first touch she’d ever experienced. She felt her stomach heat. He was still so close to her; his chest against her knees. She could smell his woodsy, musky smell and it left her confused. Did she want him to touch her? Rationally, she couldn’t understand this need he created inside her.

  “Please,” she begged trying a new tactic, “tell me why you are here. Please. What do you want with me?”