And Young’s connections trumped Zach’s. His family was political royalty. “Un-fucking-touchables,” a cop pal said.
In the end, Zach got three of his best men, all guys he’d worked with at The Agency, on a conference call. He told them what they needed to know, faxed them a photo of Young he’d snapped when he’d first checked him out, and said he wanted them in place within the next six hours.
“To tail the woman,” one guy said.
“To tail Young,” Zach replied. “I want you calling the locals the moment you see him trying an entry. Make sure you grab the tools he uses, make sure the locals find them in his possession or at the site, provide them if you have to. I want pictures. Sound. I want every move he makes in living-color 3D. Do we understand each other?”
His men were smart enough not to point out that those things were mostly illegal and virtually impossible. Instead, they waited a decent interval before the one who’d known him longest spoke.
“And the woman?”
Zach took a deep breath.
“Don’t worry about the woman,” he said. “She’s mine.”
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
Jaimie was dreaming.
She was running through an enormous building. Everything was gray. Walls. Floors. Ceiling. There were no windows. No doors. She was alone, but she wasn’t. Someone was coming after her. Someone. She could sense his presence.
She ran faster.
Her pursuer was gaining on her.
A wall loomed ahead of her. She couldn’t run any further.
Whimpers rose in her throat.
“No,” she said.
She swung around, fists raised, and saw Steven. He was laughing as he closed the distance between them.
“No,” she said again, “no…”
“Jaimie.”
“No!”
She struck out blindly. A big hand caught hers.
“Jaimie. Honey. It’s me. Zach. Zacharias. Baby, you’re dreaming.”
Her eyes flew open. Her lover, her beautiful, magical lover was leaning over her. She was safe in his arms, in their bed.
She sobbed his name. He gathered her close, soothed her with gentle caresses, butterfly kisses, whispers of assurance. Gradually, her breathing slowed. She burrowed into him, and he ran the pads of his thumbs under her eye
s, wiping away hot tears.
“OK?” he said softly.
She nodded. Gave a watery laugh.
“I had a bad dream.”
Young, Zach thought, fighting back a rush of fury.
“Yeah. I figured that.” It was the understatement of the century.