Infiltration Page 2

  He hoped whoever was in the car was just some poor idiot who had gotten lost and would soon be on her way.

  * * *

  SOPHIA REARDON WAS lost and felt like some poor idiot. She rolled her window down farther and took a few deep breaths of air, trying to refocus.

  Was this warehouse really the place? All of them looked the same. If she could read her own handwriting that would help. Of course, if people would do their jobs correctly in the first place she wouldn’t have to be here at the corner of Serial-Killers-R-Us Street and Shouldn’t-Be-Here-Alone Avenue.

  Sophia looked down at the napkin where she’d scribbled the address. Yeah, that was definitely an 8 not a 3. Which meant it was this warehouse she was supposed to be at, not the just-as-scary first one she’d gone to.

  All Sophia needed were a few pictures of the interior ceiling frame and doorway of the warehouse to help finish a computer rendering of the building. This warehouse was identical to one that had burned down in an arson case two weeks ago—the work of a serial arsonist who had hit buildings in four different states. The FBI had been called in to help local law enforcement.

  Sophia muttered under her breath again as she grabbed her camera gear and purse. She put her FBI credentials in her pocket, in case some poor security guard needed to see them. She pushed open the door to the warehouse and walked in slowly, giving her eyes time to adjust. She cursed her office mate, Bruce, who had begged Sophia to take these pictures.

  “‘The new girl at the coffee shop said yes to lunch, Sophia,’” Sophia said in her best mimicry of Bruce’s voice. “‘But today’s our only chance this week. Please, please, please go take pictures at the horror-film warehouse for me. I’m worth getting mutilated for.’”

  Sophia sighed. Bruce owed her. Big-time. Sophia hated this cloak-and-dagger stuff.

  Sure, she worked for the FBI, but would be the first to tell you she wasn’t an agent. She didn’t even do CSI stuff usually, although she was part of the forensic team. She was a graphic designer, for goodness’ sake. She designed brochures and fliers and posters. Safe in the comfort of her office in DC, not in some warehouse in Scaryville.

  As the door closed behind her, Sophia took a deep breath and reminded herself there was plenty of air in this building and nothing to be afraid of. She was not trapped back in that car like during the accident five years ago. Sophia went through a couple of the mental exercises Dr. Fretwell had taught her to get her brief moment of panic under control. Once it had passed she grabbed her camera and began getting the shots she needed.

  The doorway posed no problems so she got those first. But the beams in the ceiling area were going to be more difficult to film. Looking around she realized the office in the back would give her much better access to the shots she needed of the ceiling framing.

  Sophia cautiously made her way back to the steps leading up to the office. It didn’t look as if there were any serial killers or cyborgs living here, but the place still gave her the creeps. Wooden crates and boxes were piled all along the stairs and landing, making getting up them precarious. Sophia kept a firm grip on the railing for as long as she could until she had to let go to step around a huge crate.

  As she began climbing the second set of steps, Sophia caught something moving out of the corner of her eye. She turned to see what it was just as an arm reached out from behind her and covered her mouth, pulling her up against a hard chest and silencing her startled scream.

  A deep voice breathed quietly in her ear, “What the hell are you doing here?”

  Chapter Two

  Sophia was shocked into complete stillness for a moment then burst into a flurry of action. She elbowed the abs behind her and swung her legs backward at his shins. Although she heard a couple of grunts, the hand over her mouth didn’t move.

  Terror completely overwhelmed her. The hand was cutting off her air and she couldn’t breathe. Panic made her blows even more frantic and she heard more grunts, but he still didn’t release her. She reached back and tried to scratch his face, but he caught both her wrists with his free hand before she could do any damage. He pulled her closer to his chest so her kicks couldn’t do any harm, either.

  “You’ve got to calm down. I’m not going to hurt you,” the voice said, but his words barely penetrated Sophia’s terrorized brain.

  She was desperate to get his hand off her mouth. She allowed her knees to give way so all her body weight fell. He didn’t let go of her face, but he did let her hands go so he could grip her weight with his other arm.

  Sophia reached up and grasped the hand covering her mouth with both of her hands, her need for air overwhelming all other thoughts. Somewhere in the back of her mind she could hear Dr. Fretwell reminding her that there was plenty of oxygen, that there was always plenty of oxygen, but she couldn’t make herself believe it.

  “Listen, I don’t want to hurt you,” the voice said again in little more than a whisper in her ear. “But I need you to calm down.”

  Sophia didn’t believe his assurances for her safety for a second, but her only thought was to get the hand from around her mouth. It took all of her mental energy, but she forced herself to stop struggling.

  “Good.” The hand over her mouth eased just the slightest bit. “I’m going to let you go, but if you scream we’re going to be right back in this position. Got it?”

  Sophia nodded. The hand moved very slowly from her mouth, as if he was gauging whether she would keep her word not to scream. It hovered there, ready to reclamp over her mouth at the slightest noise from her. Sophia gulped air and struggled to get a hold of herself.

  She wasn’t going to scream. She knew there wasn’t anybody around the warehouse close enough to hear it. Plus, she definitely didn’t want that hand—or worse, a gag—over her mouth, cutting off her supply of oxygen. Well, not cutting off the actual supply of oxygen, but making her brain think she wasn’t getting enough oxygen.

  Damn claustrophobia. The last thing she needed was to become a sobbing nutcase on the floor because some creep gagged her. She needed to keep her wits about her and figure out how to get away from the big chest still standing right behind her.

  Whatever trouble she was in here, she was going to have to get herself out. Because screaming wasn’t going to help.

  “Are you okay?” the voice asked, the mystery man still standing directly behind her, hand still hovering near her mouth.

  “Yes. Look, I was just here to take some pictures of the door and ceiling.” She was breathing so hard she could barely get the words out, so Sophia lifted her camera to the side so he could see it. “Whatever you’re doing here, I don’t know anything about it and I don’t care.”

  There was no response from the man behind her. Sophia didn’t know if that was a good or bad thing.

  “I haven’t seen you. I have no idea what you look like. I’ll just leave. There’s no cell phone coverage out here, so it’s not like I can call anyone or anything.” Sophia didn’t know if that was true or not. She had forgotten to charge her phone again last night, so it was sitting dead out in her car. But she wasn’t about to tell him that.

  She realized she was rambling, but the longer he was silent, the more she was afraid he was going to do something terrible to her, like kill her.

  Or cover her mouth with his hand again.

  “I’m just going to go, okay?” Sophia took a small step away from him. “I’m not going to look at you and I’m just going to go.”

  The arm in front of her dropped. When he didn’t stop her, Sophia took another step. Then another.

  “Just get in your car and leave immediately. Don’t let anybody else see you or believe me, the trouble will be much worse.”

  Now that the voice wasn’t whispering, it sounded vaguely familiar. As Sophia took another step away she turned to look at the man behind her before she could stop herself.

  But before she could get a good look at him she tripped over one of the boxes lining the stairs. She grasped for the rai
ling but couldn’t reach it.

  Just as she began to plummet down the stairs an arm reached out and grabbed her around her hips, sweeping her easily off her feet and yanking her back against him.

  “Are you trying to get us both killed?” the voice hissed.

  Now there was no doubt in Sophia’s mind that the voice was familiar. She shook loose from the arm that held her and turned to face the voice. When she saw him clearly she almost stumbled again.

  Just as tall, dark and handsome as ever—a walking cliché. The man who had walked out of her life five years ago. Without one single word.

  “Cameron?”

  Sophia watched as shock stole over Cameron’s face. He was obviously as surprised to see her as she was to see him.

  “Sophia? What are you doing here?”

  “I’m taking pictures for a friend, for an arson investigation.”

  “An arson investigation? Are you law enforcement?”

  Sophia shook her head. “No. Not really. I mean kind of, but no.”

  Cameron stared back at her in confusion and Sophia realized she wasn’t making any sense.

  “I work for the FBI, but I’m not an agent. I’m a graphic artist.”

  “You work for the Bureau? You’re here for them?”

  Cameron seemed overly shocked at her mention of the FBI. Sophia shook her head again. “Well, yes and no. I wasn’t supposed to be here at all, but I’m helping a friend out by getting some pictures he wasn’t able to get.”

  “Is anybody else from the Bureau coming?”

  Sophia didn’t understand why Cameron was asking her this, but the only thing she could think of—the only thing that really made sense about any of his behavior here—was that he was some sort of criminal now and she had walked in on something illegal.

  Sophia would never have thought Cameron Branson capable of a criminal lifestyle when she had known him before. He’d just gotten out of the military and had more of a love for his family than anyone she’d ever known. He definitely had not been any sort of delinquent then. Trying to figure out where he belonged, sure. But not a criminal.

  But she guessed a lot of stuff could happen in five years that changed a person. Case in point, the man standing in front of her whom she both recognized and didn’t recognize.

  Sophia took a step back from him. His hand, which had still been at her waist, dropped to his side.

  “No, I’m not officially here for the Bureau. Nobody else is coming,” Sophia told him.

  Cameron seemed to relax a little at that admission, which just confirmed Sophia’s suspicion about his criminal activities. Who else relaxed at the thought of the FBI not coming?

  Sophia looked more closely at Cameron. His hair was much longer than the nearly crew-cut length he used to keep—it curled now at the top of his black T-shirt. His posture was less erect, more casual. His eyes...

  Well, his eyes were still the most gorgeous shade of brown she had ever seen.

  She’d nearly fallen in love with those eyes once, back when she was too young and stupid to know better. Back when she thought he was a stand-up guy who was interested in her and perhaps wanted a future together.

  But she had grown up and left those dreams behind. He hadn’t given her much choice, when he’d left without a goodbye and without a single word in the five years since.

  So whoever this man standing in front of her was—despite his gorgeous eyes—she needed to get away from him.

  For more reasons than one.

  * * *

  CAMERON FELT AS IF he was having an out-of-body experience as the tiny brunette who had been clawing at his face moments before transformed from a stranger into Sophia Reardon.

  This was not possible.

  Seriously? Of all the warehouses in all the world, she had to be in this one? And moreover, somebody from Omega should’ve had the roads leading down to this area blocked so nobody who wasn’t supposed to be here—for example, a cute brunette with a camera—got through. Somebody was going to catch a load of trouble for this, Cameron would make sure.

  But right now he had to get Sophia out of here before somebody from DS-13 saw her.

  But man, she looked good. Cameron gave himself just a second to really look at her. He hadn’t seen her in five years. She’d been twenty-two years old then, but she didn’t seem to have changed much. Her straight brown hair was a little longer, now past her shoulders, but the natural blond highlights were still there. Through the dimness of the warehouse’s lights he could barely make out the freckles that still scattered across her cheeks and nose. And her stunning green eyes.

  Eyes that were glaring up at him right now. He took a step toward her but she backed up. “I’m not going to hurt you, Soph.”

  She stopped moving. “I know. I just... I’m pretty claustrophobic. I don’t want you to cover my mouth again.”

  Cameron nodded. “Okay, no problem.”

  “Why are you here, Cameron?” she asked with a great deal of suspicion in her tone.

  Cameron couldn’t blame her for the unease, given the current situation. “It’s a long story and I don’t have time to explain.”

  She jerked away from him. “Yeah. Explanations aren’t your strong suit. I remember.”

  Cameron winced. He reached for her again, but then let his hand fall to the side. Sophia had every right to be angry at him about how things had ended between them five years ago, even though he had never meant to hurt her. Cutting casual ties had just been part of the life he’d chosen when he took the job with Omega Sector.

  Of course, the fact that he had thought about her every day since he’d walked away from her had proven to Cameron that Sophia had been more than a casual tie. Now, with quite a bit more perspective, he realized he should’ve given her more information and a proper goodbye.

  Unfortunately, it looked as if he was about to make the same mistakes all over again: no information and no proper goodbye.

  “I’m sorry, Sophia. But you have to leave. Quickly.”

  “And what? You’ll explain later? We both know that’s not true.”

  Cameron knew there was no real response he could give. They both did know it was true.

  “Besides, I’m not sure I want to know,” Sophia continued softly.

  Cameron wished he could explain, at least about what was happening right now—about being undercover—but time was running out. He needed to get Sophia out of here immediately. Every moment she stayed there was more of a risk of her being seen by a member of DS-13.

  “Sophia...”

  She shook her head and continued before he could say anything further, reaching a hand out toward him. “Don’t worry, I’m going. Whatever you’re doing here, Cameron, I don’t want to know. But you be careful.” She drew her hand back to her side without actually touching him.

  Cameron couldn’t stand the look in her eyes. She thought he was a criminal. He wished he could explain. Before she could turn away, Cameron leaned down and put his forehead against hers. “I’m sorry, Soph. Again.” Cameron stepped back from her. “Go as fast and as quietly as you can. Don’t let anyone see you.”

  Cameron watched as Sophia turned and carefully manipulated her way down the stairs through all the boxes. He didn’t stay to watch her go the rest of the way out. He turned and made his way back to the office.

  “Get lost?” Fin snickered as Cameron walked back in.

  Cam just snorted. Fin looked at him a little closer. “What happened to you? You look like you’ve been in a wrestling match.”

  Damn it. He had practically been in a wrestling match.

  “Stupid boxes everywhere. It’s like an obstacle course down there. I tripped.” Cameron brushed his hair back into place.

  That got a few chuckles. Nobody seemed suspicious, which was good. “How’s it going here?” Cameron asked.

  Fin was taking his time showing off to the buyers what he knew about the assault rifles being sold. Fin liked to show off whenever he knew anything about anyt
hing, and oftentimes even when he didn’t, but Cameron just let him ramble on. If the buyers didn’t know when and if Fin was full of crap then it was their own fault. They’d be sitting in a jail cell in a few hours anyway.

  “Why don’t you start counting the money, Cam?” Fin told him. Cameron barely bit back a groan of frustration. What he really wanted to do was get over to the window and make sure Sophia’s car was gone. But the money was on the other side of the office.

  “Sure.” Cameron met one of the buyers over at the desk and pulled out a small cash-counting machine from the bag they’d brought. The machine would make things a lot faster, but not fast enough. He wanted to know—needed to know—that Sophia had made it safely out of the building. He fed the cash into the machine as quickly as he could without making it obvious that he was in a hurry. The second buyer watched him carefully the entire time.

  After double-checking, because he knew Fin would ask, Cameron put the counter away.

  “All here, Fin.”

  “Did you double-check?”

  Cameron refrained from rolling his eyes. “Yes.” He walked over and placed the bag of money on the table by Fin, then strolled as casually as possible over to the window.

  No car. Thank God.

  Cameron felt himself relax for the first time since he realized that the tiny brunette who had just been trying to fight her way out of his arms was Sophia. The thought of sweet Sophia being caught in the middle of this made Cameron a little sick to his stomach.

  Maybe seeing her today was some sort of sign to him. Further proof he needed to finish up this case and take a break. Maybe he would call Sophia, try to repair the damage from five years ago. Explain to her his reasons for leaving.

  And tell her that he had never stopped thinking about her.

  But right now he had to concentrate on the case at hand. Fin was finally winding down his spiel about the assault rifles, quite a bit of it incorrect information, the buyers had the weapons they wanted and DS-13 had the cash.

  Cameron could tell Fin was pleased. As the buyers left, he walked over to Cameron and slapped him on his back.