Chapter 21

CHAPTER21

Marin gulped out a relieved sigh. He’d found her. Minutes earlier, Yerik had bolted to his feet, dragging her along with him as he ran beneath the trees. Just as quickly, they’d been confronted by a man ordering them to halt. She had no idea who the idiot was with the assault rifle trained on her, but her body relaxed at the sight of Griffin striding cautiously across the grass. Her captor’s hold tightened around her, however, reminding Marin of the syringe primed near her throat.

“Stand down, Agent Reynolds,” Griffin called to the man holding the rifle.

The idiot didn’t listen.

“No one’s going to get hurt here,” Agent Reynolds said. “Let her go, Salenko. We’ll go someplace and talk. You’ve got a lot of information that’s very valuable to the United States. I’m willing to make you a sweet deal.”

“He wants his daughter,” Marin shouted. “Elena. She’s The Artist.”

The tip of the needle grazed her skin. Marin’s body quaked in fear.

“Shut up,” her captor said.

Griffin stepped in front of Agent Reynolds’s rifle. “Is that what this is all about?” he asked, amazing Marin at how calm he was. “Your daughter? I’m sure we can work something out, Salenko. Just put down the syringe and let’s talk about it.”

Marin’s trembling eased in the face of Griffin’s quiet, cool demeanor. The darkness and his helmet made it difficult for her to read his expression, but Marin could sense his determined gaze.

“Agent Reynolds is going to lower his weapon,” Griffin said. “Why don’t you do the same and we can work this out without anyone else getting hurt.”

There was rapid exchange of words between Agent Reynolds and Griffin, too quiet for Marin to hear, but the other agent reluctantly dropped his rifle to his hip.

“Talk to me, Salenko,” Griffin said. “What can we do to make this right?”

“You can’t make this right!” her captor shouted. “Only I can get Elena back.” He jerked Marin against his body as he took a step backward toward the fence. “And I will use your lover to barter with. You think I don’t know what she means to you, Agent Keller? But she means more to her wealthy grandfather. He is a very powerful man. The conglomerate fears him. He will pay for Elena’s release. Or the chef here will pay with her life.”

A wave of terror rolled through her stomach. Griffin stood still as Marin was propelled backward several steps. Her lips began to quiver. Why wasn’t he moving with them? Surely, he would rescue her.

“Talk to him,” Marin urged, her words laced with panic. “He’s a good man. He’ll understand about Elena. He’ll help you.”

“She is a little magpie, your lover,” Yerik shouted at Griffin. “She says I should trust you.”

“She’s right,” Griffin said, his feet still frozen to the ground. “I want to help you get your daughter back.”

They were still moving in reverse. Marin couldn’t seem to stop her body from trembling.

“You think you are so powerful. These men in the conglomerate have been laughing in your face for months now,” her captor bragged. “They enjoyed it every time I brought them a painting stolen from right in front of the Secret Service’s nose. It was a game to them. You are a game to them.”

He’d taken them another fifty feet from Griffin and Agent Reynolds. The Potomac River lapped against the metal storm wall to their right. Branches from another grove of trees formed a canopy over their heads. And the syringe was still millimeters from Marin’s throat. This was it. She was going to die.

* * *

It took everything Griffin had in him to keep still while Salenko retreated with Marin in his grasp. One look at her battered face and he wanted to pummel the Ukrainian to death. His heart raced and his fingers twitched just thinking about the bastard laying a finger on her.

But Griffin let his training take control of his reflexes. He needed to keep Marin’s tormentor occupied so Adam and Leslie could get into position. As far as Griffin could tell, the only weapon Salenko was using to hold Marin captive was the syringe. They’d have to overpower the Ukrainian. A sniper shot was too risky. It could trigger Salenko’s reflexes to plunge the syringe into Marin’s neck. Griffin’s stomach rolled knowing what was likely in the barrel behind the needle. He willed himself not to think about that; to keep Salenko talking instead.

“This isn’t a game to me,” he said, trying to keep his voice even and calm. “It’s very real. And I’m sure it’s very real for Elena, too. You leave now and I won’t be able to help you. Stay and let’s fix this. You have my word I will see that Elena is released safely.”

Salenko backed into the fence. His face grew taut when he heard the sound of multiple footsteps on the pavement behind the railing. This was where things got dicey. They had the son of a bitch cornered. But Salenko was a wild card and it would only take him a second to inject Marin, condemning her to an agonizing death. Sweat broke on the back of Griffin’s neck. All he had to do was to keep the Ukrainian engaged for another minute. He didn’t dare redirect his gaze off of Salenko to check on Adam or Leslie’s progress. The other man was too perceptive.

Marin must have sensed the futility of Salenko’s situation because tears were now flowing freely from her bright blue eyes.

“Griffin,” she croaked out.

Her plea nearly wrecked him. Her face had gone pale and Griffin ached to kiss away the panic she was surely battling. But he couldn’t move. Not yet.

“He’s going to kill me.”

“No,” Griffin said firmly. “He’s going to trade you for Elena.”

But Salenko was suddenly very still as if contemplating his limited options.

“Before I die, I need you to know something,” Marin cried.

Griffin couldn’t seem to draw a breath. “Hush.” He had to push the word out around the bolder in his throat. “How many times have I told you you’re not going to die?”

“I love you.”

Her words hit him like a gunshot, shattering his chest and every organ inside of it. He couldn’t breathe; he couldn’t think. He blinked his eyes rapidly to refocus.

All of a sudden, everything seemed to be happening in slow motion around him. Agent Reynolds must have twitched beside Griffin, unintentionally tipping Salenko off that Adam was behind him because Salenko began shouting something in his native tongue. Griffin lunged forward at a run as Adam jumped from the fence. A woman screamed and Griffin felt as if his legs were immersed in wet cement, he seemed to be moving so slowly.

“Marin!” he yelled.

She was on the ground unmoving when Griffin finally reached her. Adam was wrestling Salenko. Leslie was clutching her wrist and breathing deeply. Agent Reynolds went to help Adam as Griffin knelt beside Marin. His heart pounded against his chest.

She can’t be dead.

He brushed his fingers against her neck looking for a puncture wound. Her pulse was strong against his fingertips.

“Marin,” he whispered.

Her eyes snapped open. A slow grin spread over her bruised lips.

“I knew you’d save me,” she said between shallow breaths.

Griffin didn’t bother sharing with her that he’d had his doubts moments earlier. He swept his hands all along her body. “Are you hurt? Did that bastard harm you in any way?” Marin winced at the contact in several places. “I’ll kill him!”

“You’re a little late for that,” Adam said behind them.

When Griffin looked over his shoulder, Salenko was convulsing on the ground several yards away, gasping for breath. He quickly turned his head back and used his body to shield Marin from having to witness the gruesome scene.

“He injected himself?” Marin asked, her eyes wide.

Adam nodded. “A true martyr.”

“I needed him alive!” Agent Reynolds protested, throwing a tantrum that rivaled a two-year-old’s.

“Yeah, well, apparently, he preferred death to life in Guantanamo Bay,” Adam shot back. “And he wasn’t letting go of that syringe. The guy broke Leslie’s wrist when she went for the needle.”

Marin sat up and glanced around at Leslie. “Thank God he didn’t stab her. He had an ugly knife.” She gulped back a sob. “He killed Otto with it.”

Griffin shook his head as he brushed a tear off her cheek with his thumb. “Otto’s injured, but not dead. We used his microchip to track you. Even with a deep stab wound, he wanted to jump into the warehouse and save you.”

The watery smile she gave him made his heart skip a beat. Griffin ached to gather her up in his arms and kiss her senseless. Not here, though. That would have to wait for some place more private.

“An ambulance is on the way,” Ben communicated through Griffin’s headset. “The president is asking about Marin. He wants to know her condition.”

Marin scooted over to where Leslie sat on the ground cradling her wrist. Griffin looked on in amazement as Marin gently rubbed the other woman’s back. His throat grew tight with emotion thinking how easily he could have lost her.

“Tell President Manning she’s fine,” Griffin told him.

She was better than fine. Marin’s resilience astounded him once again. The woman seemed to take everything in stride. She’d make a brilliant agent. Hell, she’d be the perfect partner.

Where the hell had that crazy thought come from?

Griffin jumped to his feet. He needed to get his emotions in check and his head back into the op.

“Ben, you can let the president and Mrs. Manning know I’ll have Marin back in the White House shortly.”

* * *

“All this time, you knew about Bita?” The First Lady shot a chilly look at her husband who was seated next to her on a sofa in the west sitting hall outside their master bedroom.

The admiral, the president’s chief of staff, Director Worcester, and the Director of Homeland Security were also seated in various chairs around the room. It was nearly eleven o’clock at night, but both the Mannings were still dressed in the clothes they’d had on earlier in the day. The First Lady was clearly shaken by the events of the past several hours. “The woman was a double agent and yet you let her near our granddaughter.”

Griffin was equally as furious as the president’s wife. He was ready to jump out of his skin at the commander-in-chief for withholding such vital information. Especially since Bita had put Marin’s life in so much danger. Director Worcester shot him a quelling look from across the room when Griffin went to open his mouth to interject his two cents.

Clearly, he’d matured a bit because Griffin kept his thoughts to himself. But he couldn’t keep still. He continued to prowl behind the chair where Marin sat wrapped in a soft blanket, sipping a cup of tea the head housekeeper had provided her with earlier. Marin had been quiet and contemplative since the rescue, but he figured that was understandable after all she’d been through. The two of them hadn’t had an opportunity to be alone yet, either. She was putting on a brave front for the Mannings. The trauma would hit her soon, though. And he wanted to be the one to comfort her when it did. To do that, he’d need to get her away from her overprotective godmother. Unfortunately, neither of the Mannings seemed in a hurry to retire for the night.

“I would never put Arabelle in harm’s way.” President Manning patted his wife’s leg. His touch did nothing to erase the frosty expression on her face. The president sighed. “Bita was instructed in the security protocols. She followed them to the letter this morning. Other than that, Harriett, all I can say is that the issue is one of national security.”

“How is stealing artwork a national security issue?” the First Lady demanded.

With a beleaguered sigh, the president glanced over at his Secretary of Homeland Security. “George, tell her what you can. Please.”

The secretary clearly would rather do no such thing. But, after a long moment of uncomfortable silence, he sat forward in his chair, cleared his throat, and began speaking. “Mrs. Ranjbar is involved with a group of Iranian Nationalists who were deposed when the Shah was overthrown in the 1970s,” he explained. “Many of these individuals were among the wealthy elite. At the time of the revolution, they were forced to flee their homeland without any of their possessions. Some of those possessions are, understandably, quite valuable; not to mention, of great significance as family heirlooms.”

“But many of those items were eventually returned, weren’t they?” the First Lady asked.

“Not as many as you’d think. A lot of these items were traded on a very lucrative black market with the backers to the radical government keeping the proceeds of their sale,” the secretary continued. “Mrs. Ranjbar and her friends have been unofficially hunting for their lost items for decades. It’s believed that Yerik Salenko, the same man who kidnapped Chef Marin, worked for the group operating the black market at some point during the last decade. He claimed to know the whereabouts of many of the items Mrs. Ranjbar and her friends are seeking.”

Mrs. Manning looked at her husband incredulously. “And Bita was just going to track these hooligans down and demand her heirlooms?”

The president shrugged, smiling at his wife. “What can I say? I’m surrounded by formidable women.”

“I still don’t understand how Bita’s search is a threat to our country’s national security,” the First Lady grumbled.

“It was not so much Mrs. Ranjbar’s search, but her connection with Salenko. Mr. Salenko had close ties with many nefarious groups aside from the counterfeiters Agent Keller is investigating, and the operators of the black market. He worked for anyone who would pay. Most of his employers would just as soon see our country in turmoil. Unfortunately, his death puts us at a dead end with regard to locating these terror cells.” The secretary glared at Griffin.

Griffin met the man’s hard stare over the back of Marin’s head. “With all due respect, sir, if the choice between saving Marin or saving a cold-blooded killer came up again, I’d run the op the exact same way every time.”

“And we are all very grateful for your quick thinking, Agent Keller,” the president interjected. He shook his head at the secretary, essentially shutting down any additional conversation on the subject.

“Well, I don’t understand how you all could just let that man steal such beautiful artwork,” Marin finally spoke up. “Those pieces are just as priceless and irreplaceable as Bita’s friends’ heirlooms.”

The secretary smiled at Marin. “Then it will please you to know that the buyers of the stolen pieces all work in my agency.”

His words halted Griffin’s pacing. “That would have been nice to know days ago,” he said through his clenched jaw.

“I agree,” the president’s chief of staff said. “We’re lucky something didn’t go horribly wrong tonight because of lack of coordination.”

Their discussion was curtailed when Clark Manning escorted his mother-in-law, Bita, into the room. The woman’s shoulder was dressed with a heavy bandage. Only Bita could pull off looking regal wearing it. The men in the room stood at her arrival. The First Lady was clearly conflicted on how to greet the other woman. She finally stood as well, holding her arms open to embrace her son’s mother-in-law.

“Bita, you’re back. How are you feeling?” the First Lady asked.

“She’s lucky it was only a flesh wound,” Clark answered brusquely for his mother-in-law. “The bullet grazed her shoulder deep enough to require stitches and a round of antibiotics.” He gave the woman a stern look. “It could have been a lot worse. From now on, you’ll leave the espionage to those who are trained to do it. Agreed?”

Bita nodded dutifully, but not before Griffin saw her give the Secretary of Homeland Security a sly smile.

“Agent Morgan was released also,” Clark reported to the room. “Her wrist is fractured, but it fortunately won’t require any surgery.”

Griffin shamefully realized he’d been so focused on Marin, he hadn’t given Leslie’s condition a second thought since leaving the crime scene. He was pretty sure Adam had the situation covered, but he made a mental note to text his friend anyway.

“Chef Marin!” Bita cried, covering her mouth with both her hands when she spied Marin.

Marin stiffened as Bita advanced on her. Griffin quickly stepped in front of the older woman. Bita’s face was crestfallen when she realized he would not let her near Marin.

“I didn’t mean to hit her,” Bita said. “It was all part of an act. I had to make that crazy man think I was working with him.”

A sudden, blinding burst of rage surged through Griffin. This woman was responsible for the bruises on Marin’s face? It seemed he’d wrongly blamed Salenko for all of the injuries to Marin. With that man already dead, Griffin was looking for another punching bag to take his frustrations out on. He didn’t realize his hands were already clenched in fists until Marin covered his fingers with hers. Rising from her chair to stand beside him, she gave his hand a gentle squeeze.

“It’s okay, Bita,” Marin said quietly. “We were all doing what we had to.”

“But your mouth.” Bita’s brown eyes swam with tears. “I hate myself for doing that to you. We must get some ice. Clark, can you look at Chef Marin’s wounds and make sure she’s okay?”

Marin flinched again. Griffin wrapped a protective arm around her shoulder.

“No need, Clark,” the First Lady interceded. “I’ll take care of Marin’s cuts and bruises. She’ll be our guest tonight so I can keep an eye on her.”

Mrs. Manning gently took Marin’s arm, presumably to lead her away. At the same time, Griffin’s own arm tightened over Marin’s shoulders. He didn’t want to let her go. Not when he needed to talk to her. Privately. He needed to tell her. . . something. Griffin just wasn’t sure what he would say. Or even if he could say what needed to be said.

Her eyes held a silent question when they met his.

“Agent Keller,” the director called from across the room. “You have a seven o’clock flight to Greece tomorrow morning. The Secretary of Homeland and I would like to go over some things with you before you leave.”

Marin’s expression seemed to dim. She stepped out from beneath his arm.

“Thank you for rescuing me, Agent Keller. Again,” she called over her shoulder as she followed the First Lady in the direction of the Queen’s bedroom.

The loss of contact with her body made Griffin uneasy. He would only be gone to Greece for a couple of days. Griffin would make sure his return flight brought him back here to Washington so he could see Marin again. They would talk then. So why did it feel that with every step she took down that long hall, he was losing her forever?

“I’m afraid I owe you an apology.” Bita’s voice interrupted Griffin’s troubling thoughts.

“She’s the one you need to apologize to,” he snapped. “I only heard excuses coming out of your mouth a minute ago.”

Bita nodded deferentially. “You are correct. I will apologize to Chef Marin properly. But I think she will be more forgiving than you, Agent Keller.”

“You got that right.”

“Still, I must apologize for the wrongs I have committed against you.”

The hairs on the back of Griffin’s neck stood up. “Against me?”

She nodded again.

“Go on.”

Bita sighed dramatically. “It’s about Farrah. She is aware of my association with the committee trying to locate our country’s stolen possessions. On occasion, she assists me in my pursuit of justice.”

Griffin didn’t like where this was going. Not one bit.

“She assists you how?”

“My daughter is beautiful, yes? Some men, their tongues are looser around a gorgeous woman. Farrah flirts. These men, they say things perhaps they shouldn’t.” Bita’s smile was sanguine.

“I have never, ever, flirted with your daughter,” he replied hotly.

The woman’s face blanched. “Oh, no, that was the problem. You were too inscrutable. No matter what Farrah did, you wouldn’t leave your post.”

His jaw dropped and he couldn’t seem to close it. “That was all a setup?”

Bita nodded again. “Once the Mannings arrived in the White House, I began baiting Yerik with the artwork here. But you were very knowledgeable of art. Too knowledgeable. You had to go.” She actually had the nerve to shrug.

“You came up with the idea to steal from the US government?”

“As Chef Marin said, we do what we have to.” Bita’s tone was so smug it was condescending.

“You’re right,” he finally choked out. “I’m not as forgiving. The only reason you are still standing here is because I made a damn promise to your granddaughter that I’d bring both you and Marin back. Don’t you dare put that child or anyone else in my orbit in danger again. Or else you’ll answer to me.”

Griffin stormed off without giving her the opportunity to reply. It was either that or strangle the damn woman.