To Catch a Thief. Christina Skye

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СКАЧАТЬ style="font-size:15px;">      She studied him a long time. “I’m not sure. Whatever it is, you’d probably cost more. Watch yourself on the big walls, Lieutenant.” She tossed a coiled rope over her shoulder and headed out into the cold gray light of dawn.

      Dakota was still watching her as the snow swirled up and the rescue team appeared on the ridge below them.

      CHAPTER FOUR

      THIRTY MINUTES LATER the storm clouds had moved inland and Amanda Wilson and Ian Westlake had been transferred to a medical flight bound for Edinburgh. Now the rescue team was relaxing, glad to have a successful end to their dawn ascent.

      Meanwhile, Dakota’s Foxfire contact was waiting in a military helicopter on the far side of the loch. Izzy Teague was roughly six foot five and could have passed for Denzel Washington, but his grave eyes made him look older than his years. One of the government’s finest security operatives, the man could assess photographs or triangulate cell phone positions faster than most people could breathe.

      The chopper was quiet. Restless, Dakota drummed on the window, waiting for the pilot to return.

      “Something wrong?” Teague opened his medical bag and pulled out a small metal case.

      “Not a thing.”

      “Yeah? Then why are you scowling?”

      Dakota shrugged.

      “How’s your hand?”

      “Fine.” Dakota didn’t look up, intent on stowing his gear. He especially refused to look around in hopes of seeing Nell.

      Teague glared at him. “Fine? You’ve got two lacerations that need sutures.”

      “Nothing that can’t wait.”

      Izzy stared at him thoughtfully, then glanced down and made quick notes on the sleek laptop that was never far away. “How did that climbing gear work out?”

      “The shoes get high marks. Solid traction and balance. The gloves were useless. No possible way to handle a weapon in them.”

      “I’ll pass the word to Ryker and his science boys.” Izzy gave a cocky smile. “Back to the drawing board on the gear.” When Dakota didn’t answer, Izzy raised an eyebrow. “Something eating you, Smith?”

      “I’d like to get moving, that’s all. Has my surveillance mission changed?” he asked quietly.

      “First things first.” Izzy’s eyes narrowed as he held out a digital keypad. When he triggered a button, a row of lights flashed red-orange. “Before we leave, Ryker wants a medical update. Log in for Madonna and record your response times.”

      Madonna, as both men knew, was the code name for Dakota’s unique visual skills, part of the biomedical program based at a top-secret government lab in New Mexico. Thanks to his extensive training and ongoing enhancements, the SEAL could see far beyond the normal spectrum into infrared, ultraviolet and thermal ranges. His skills offered unique applications for military surveillance in high-risk, fast-extraction situations.

      But excellent was never good enough for the head of the Foxfire program. A cold, untrusting bureaucrat, Lloyd Ryker demanded constant updates on all his assets.

      “Madonna is doing just fine.” Coolly Dakota logged on to the handheld unit and ripped through the tests, shifting easily from light source to light source. Like every man handpicked for the elite Foxfire team, Dakota liked difficult challenges, and he always played to win.

      Izzy watched the lights flash, scoring Dakota’s speed. “Want to tell me about Nell MacInnes?”

      “Not much to tell. She saved those kids, no doubt about it.” Dakota started to add a character assessment but decided against it. Saying more would amount to empty speculation.

      “Did she say anything useful? Any comments about her father or her future plans?”

      “We didn’t get around to trading life stories,” Dakota said flatly. “There was a gale up on the summit, if you recall. And now maybe you’ll let me concentrate here.”

      For some reason the questions about Nell irritated Dakota. When he was done with the test, he handed the unit back to Izzy.

      Across the snowy field, Nell was talking animatedly to a man in a bright green parka and high-tech climbing gloves. “Is that her partner?”

      Izzy nodded. “He helped coordinate the rescue ascent. I understand he’s climbed with Nell for almost twelve years.”

      Dakota watched the tall climber squeeze Nell’s shoulder. “Are they sleeping together?”

      “He’s married with two kids.”

      “Which means nothing,” Dakota said curtly. “Married men can screw around as much as single men. Maybe more.”

      Nell laughed at something her partner said, and for some reason that irritated Dakota, too.

      “My research says no. The relationship is strictly about climbing.”

      “Any sign that he’s involved in the theft?”

      “I’ve got him on the radar just in case. He’s had no large bank deposits that would indicate unusual payments.” Izzy closed the digital unit and stowed it in a secure case.

      “Neither did Nell.” Dakota rubbed his shoulder idly. “Maybe he’s being careful.”

      “I’ll handle him. Right now I want you to calm down and rest.”

      “I’m not—”

      “Of course you are. You’ve been wound up tight ever since you got down. I checked out Amanda Wilson and gave her one of the field hydration lines before she was flown out. You could use one too.”

      “I’m fine, Teague.”

      “Can it.” Izzy slipped a syringe expertly into Dakota’s arm. “There’s a serious nutrient boost in that line. Shut up and let it take effect.” Dakota muttered something gruff that made Izzy laugh. “I doubt that’s physically possible, my friend, and I don’t intend to find out.”

      As the liquid dripped into his arm, Dakota’s gaze slid restlessly over the lower glen. He couldn’t seem to stop thinking about Nell. What made her tick and how many secrets was she hiding? Both questions were suddenly very important.

      Izzy followed Dakota’s gaze. “What’s eating at you?”

      “Nell. She doesn’t add up, Izzy, and I don’t like things that don’t add up.” He took one last look across the loch, where Nell was laughing with her partner, piling ropes in a canvas bag.

      The woman had guts to spare and a quick, clever brain. If things had been different he would have enjoyed a little recreational climbing with her. They could start on a cove in Thailand near the South China Sea.

      A beach where clothing was optional sounded good.

      The thought of Nell СКАЧАТЬ