He kissed the top of her head again and tipped her chin up to meet her eye. “We have to trust Nanny. You told me she’s a top agent. She’ll protect him. We have to believe that.”
He paused. “We’ll get him back.” Rock set his jaw. “I’ll get him back if I have to give my life for his.”
“Rock—”
“No, I mean it. I’ll do anything to make this right again and get our baby back. Without him, we’re lost and you and I are doomed. We’ll never forgive ourselves. I’ll never forgive myself.” He tightened his grip on her.
“I love you, Lani. Like I’ve never loved anyone before and don’t expect to ever love again.” He gently stroked her cheek, brushing a tear away.
He’d made his brave spy wife cry. Shit, he was an asshole.
“This will be the illusion of our lives, baby,” he said. “We’ll give the show of a generation, fool RIOT, and we’ll get our baby back. Promise.”
Her mouth was inches from his. Her lips quivered. He wanted her, wanted one last time to be with her while they were still whole. Because if their world fell apart, things would never be the same again and he’d lose her.
She stared into his eyes, holding him as if she’d never let go.
He held her tight. She was worth fighting for. Their baby, their life together, he’d never stop fighting for them.
She looked up at him, took his face in her hands, and very gently pulled him down into a kiss.
* * *
Rock could make barren rosebushes bloom before her eyes, pull coins from out of nowhere and make them disappear again, levitate, and even walk on water. But his real magic was the way he made Lani feel—safe, secure, comforted, and loved. All of those emotions swept over her as she pulled Rock’s face into hers for a kiss. He’d been suddenly distant, tentative, as if afraid she’d reject him, as if she blamed him. She had to show him she didn’t. Words were one thing, actions another.
The blame was hers for keeping Stone from him. And now she was panicked and frightened she’d blown things for them forever, stolen Rock’s chance to ever know his son. Rock was right. They had to remain calm and trust Nanny. Nanny was the best. But RIOT was a foe worthy of fear.
Lani’s lips met Rock’s tender, tentative kiss and another magic was revealed—the comfort of his embrace, the powerful quake of chemistry between them, and the way they belonged together. Rock made her feel like she belonged, and if that belonging was only to him, that was fine by her.
She slid her arms around his neck and ran her fingers through the tangle of hair at the nape of his neck as she leaned into him and kissed him with the intensity she’d been holding back for far too long.
Rock responded in kind, kissing her so deeply he nearly took her breath away. Lani wanted Rock in the worst way. Needed the urgency of his lovemaking and the union of their souls. She unwrapped her arms from his neck, slid her hands down his chest and up under his shirt to stroke his bare chest.
Rock’s muscles flexed beneath her touch. His chest was hard and strong, and she could feel his heart racing.
In the movies, impediments like clothing just disappear or are tantalizingly removed in suggestive stripteases. Lani’s scramble to get Rock naked and him to strip her bare were more like those of a quick-change artist—desperate and fast, clothes flying everywhere until they stood naked staring at each other and breathing hard.
She ran her gaze over his lean, hard chest and arms, admiring the design of his tattoos as they covered his sculpted body. Lani in omne tempus. She leaned forward and sucked his nipple, placing her hand over the words of his pledge and his heart. She slid her tongue over the words, licking her way to his other nipple while he stood perfectly still. She sucked it until he whispered her name.
She ran her tongue down his body, licking him gently across the heart and the dragon on his torso as she slid to her knees, stroking his hard-on with her free hand. Just as she was prepared to lick and tease him and take him into her mouth, he pulled her chin up.
“Damn it, Lani. I don’t have that much control.” He swept her into his arms and carried her to the bed where he gently laid her down. He came down on top of her, kissing her, stroking her, driving her wild with need.
Poised over her, Rock was long and hard and ready for action. She and Rock had never been poetic. They’d always opted for fun. She ran her gaze down the length of him, fixed her sights on his arousal, and arched a brow, aching for him to be inside.
“Now you see it,” she whispered to him, as she had so many times before.
He leaned down, nibbled her neck, and whispered, “Now you don’t.”
With a thrust so powerful it made her gasp, he was inside her. She locked her legs around his waist and rode him in the way she’d imagined doing too many lonely nights over the last years. She made love to him like the scared, desperate woman she was.
They rocked the bed and banged the headboard against the wall. He thrust. She held on and arched back to his rhythm. She could lead, but this time she found comfort in letting him take control. She let him work his magic, moaning, and arching back as Rock wound every thread of passion and fear together in her, tightened, and amplified into a tapestry of ecstasy. Rock made music with her body in a pulsing crescendo beat until she thought the build couldn’t last a minute longer.
He toyed with her, pushing her almost to the edge and pulling back at the last minute to restring the bow and begin tightening her strings again.
She looked him in the eye. “Take me there, Rock. Now.”
He grinned. And then he did what no other magician had ever done for her—pulled an orgasm out of her with an intensity she’d never known.
As she gasped and arched up, Rock thrust twice more and followed her to climax, grunting and collapsing on top of her.
They were sweaty and breathing hard as she released the lock she held him in with her legs.
He pushed up as if he was about to roll off her. She held him a moment longer, looking up at him and letting everything she felt shine in her eyes. This may be the last opportunity to let Rock know what he meant to her. “I love you, Rock.”
As he stared down at her, the corners of his mouth curled up very slightly, but not quite into a smile. There was nothing really to smile about. He knew what she was saying. She saw the realization in his eyes.
If they didn’t get Stone back safely, if something went wrong with the illusion, or Nanny screwed up, then this was good-bye. Lani planned to disappear into the shadowy ether of the spy world and throw herself into destroying RIOT with every part of her being. She’d no longer care whether they killed her or not. She’d give her life to take out as many RIOT operatives as possible.
Yes, she’d disappear so deeply Rock would never find her again. She’d have to if she was going to do the work she planned to do. She couldn’t endanger Rock again, or risk creating another child that could be used against her, not for what she had in mind. No, if things went wrong, she’d be a woman bent on justice and she’d be damned if she’d ever give RIOT anything to use against her.
Further, from now until the mission was over, Lani couldn’t afford the distraction of letting her façade crack again or her motherly and womanly emotions to shine through. Back to being a warrior, back into mission mode. This was the mission of their lives and she wouldn’t allow anything inside her to get in the way of success.
“I love you, too, Lani. More than you can imagine.” Rock brushed her lips with a soft kiss. “I won’t let you down. Promise.”
The tone of his voice said it all. He knew the stakes they were playing for.
CHAPTER TWENTY
The black mailbox, address Rachel, Nevada, sat in the middle of a gravel lot, with two large boulders nearby, possibly placed by locals to be used as seats during any alien-watching sessions. The black mailbox, which was really white, was covered with graffiti and had a small slot next to a picture of a flying saucer for alien mail. Though why a sophisticated alien culture would need to se
nd snail mail remained unexplained, at least to Rock’s way of thinking. That mailbox was a relic of the 1950s.
Hell, even our relatively low-tech, completely backwoods culture compared to theirs, doesn’t use the USPS much.
Usually picturesquely quaint and out of the way, isolated even, the mailbox was now surrounded by kegs of beer, coolers of soft drinks, bags of chips, bonfires, iPods blasting music that would have scared any self-respecting aliens away, live bands, and about a thousand NUFO partiers. Maybe more.
Rock had never seen anything like the spectacle before Ty and him and wasn’t about to start counting the NUFOs now. Rock wondered just how many unbalanced loonies Random had peppered that crowd with. From what he’d heard about RIOT, they didn’t leave anything to chance. The deck, or in this case, the crowd, was always stacked in their favor.
The alien watchers toasted marshmallows and barbecued hot dogs and burgers. They danced to music provided by bands with names like Alien Fusion. They pointed their telescopes to the sky and aimed lasers.
Some wore sophisticated night-vision goggles or wielded night-vision binoculars. A small percentage of the NUFOs dressed in costume. Most wore shorts, T-shirts, or sweatshirts. The NUFO logo was the fashion statement of choice and appeared on a sea of hats, shirts, and sweatshirts. It was so prevalent Rock wondered whether a real alien force would mistake it for the uniform of an attacking audience.
This swarming mass of alien-watching, extraterrestrial-believing, UFO-sighting hopefuls was his audience, the audience that would crown Rock’s already stellar career or end his son’s life. The stakes had never been higher.
Tal had coached him to keep his head and perform the mission complete with the reveal, as planned. Rock really had no choice. The rest of the team would carry it out without him.
If Rock could manipulate the NUFOs into believing his illusion, and then marvel in his reveal, he would indeed be the world’s greatest magician. And if NCS hadn’t gotten Stone back, that would seal Stone’s and Nanny’s death warrants.
However crazy these NUFOs may have seemed to some people, their sophistication in watching for alien and UFO sightings should not be underestimated. When Rock had originally imagined Outlandish Marauders, most of the technology the NUFOs now so casually wielded had not been invented.
Then again, neither had the spy plane Emmett had promised. Or the lasers Will had set up. Or the social media networks Britt would use. They were in virgin, unmarked territory now with much more than Rock’s personal reputation on the line.
Rock and the hard place. Nice pun.
Next to Rock, Ty, his CIA bodyguard for this mission, received a text. “They’ve found them,” he said simply.
As Rock’s heart raced out of control, Ty clapped him on the shoulder. “Stone and Nanny are alive. The rescue and sniper teams are in place. Our best sniper, an old friend of mine, is on it. We’ll have Stone back before it’s time for the reveal.”
Rock took a deep breath, trying not to break down. It wasn’t quite time for relief yet. But there was hope.
“Don’t think about it,” Ty said. “Stay focused on the mission and let our agents do their job while you do yours. That’s the best way to help them.”
“Yeah.” Rock nodded as he fought to control the odd, adrenaline-induced cocktail of emotions that coursed through him—anxiety, fear, excitement, expectation. Had Rock thought of everything? What could go wrong?
There were a dozen things, maybe more. There hadn’t been time to perform and refine the trick to Rock’s liking. To work the bugs out. And in Rock’s experience, there were always bugs. Usually too damned many.
The need for secrecy had prevented them from performing Outlandish Marauders in its entirety on set here even once. The setting also was not to Rock’s tastes and wouldn’t have been to his choosing if there’d been a choice of locales. The barren landscape with little brush and no trees added difficulty points to this maneuver. Rock would have preferred a forest with plenty of cover for Ashley, his quick-changing alien, Zach, his video gaming magician, and Jake, his parkour illusionist.
Here in the open, the chance of being caught or found out was magnified.
Somewhere in the audience, Britt, Rock’s social media wizard, wound her way innocuously among the NUFO, mixing with the crowd as she awaited the UFO and her cue to drum up the hysteria and panic he needed to pull this off.
The mailbox was a good two and a half to three hours from the traffic and crowds of Las Vegas. It would take that long for anyone who responded to Britt’s Tweets to reach them. That was all according to both RIOT’s and NCS’s plans. For RIOT, that meant a second wave of mischief and mayhem in case the first wave of NUFO panic didn’t produce the desired result. For NCS that gave them time to do the reveal and head off that second wave. If all went according to plan, the illusion would be long over and the reveal performed before anyone from Vegas could respond.
The mailbox and the party were a good ten miles down a dirt road from the warning signs and camo guys at the Area 51 main gate. To get to Area 51, a person had to cruise down Mailbox Road, past the Crescent Reservoir to Groom Lake Road and from there along the dirt road to the gates.
There was no fence that protected the perimeter of Area 51, just security cameras and camo dudes who appeared out of nowhere to confiscate video and pictures and turn back intruders. And plenty of speculation about all kinds of high-tech security devices, like sniffing machines that could tell the scent of a human from an animal, that may or may not really exist. Sensors that can hear a footstep past the gates.
One thing was real—signs warning that deadly force may be used against trespassers.
Rock had never heard of anyone being shot. There were no records of it. But there were no records of Area 51, either. Officially it didn’t exist. Some even said it was a cover for another, even more top-secret facility. The thought of an innocent person, a panicked, excited person rushing to the rescue of their planet being shot worried Rock, even if it seemed like a remote possibility. At his core, Rock was not a violent man and he didn’t like playing with people’s lives.
He’d had no need to know about the directives Emmett had issued to the camo dudes or the other security forces inside Area 51. So he had no real way of knowing how safe any panicked NUFOs would be if they chose to ignore the warning signs. And what of Edwards Air Force Base? What were their standing orders? What had the CIA told them, if anything? Would a squadron of aircraft suddenly buzz them from the base?
This illusion had so much potential for failure and screwups it blew the mind. What would the president do with the black eye of a few dozen dead NUFOs on his record? How would the press spin Rock’s actions? Would the CIA throw Rock under the alien spaceship, so to speak, and toss him in jail for this “prank”? How would they spin it so that no one else ever dared even imagining trying such a trick again?
Faced with the reality of the illusion, Rock had all kinds of doubts and second thoughts. This scheme seemed crazy, even for him.
Plan to fail half the time. Who had told him that? The chief? Rock sure as hell hoped this wasn’t the half where he failed.
The weather had cooperated for the NUFO’s annual party and Rock’s illusion. The starry night, far away from the light pollution of the city, seemed to stretch to infinity and beyond to the far reaches of the universe. To that place where the aliens supposedly lived.
There was no wind. None. Good for Rock in that it wouldn’t blow away his smoke screens. Not so great for air-pollution conditions. The occasional howl of a coyote, when it could be heard over a pause in the live music, lent atmosphere.
The stage, the vast canvas of the Nevada desert, was set.
The plan was deceptively simple—fool the crowds with an alien invasion and drive them toward the gates of Area 51. The devil was in the execution.
In just a few minutes, Emmett’s spacecraft would buzz the mailbox. He’d guaranteed something spectacular and convincingly UFO. It would then disa
ppear in the direction of Area 51. Translated into truth, that meant land there. While the plane was in the air above them, Will would work his magic with his lasers, aiming them so that they looked like energy streams coming from the UFO above. To do that, he needed a literal smoke screen to illuminate the laser light.
Ashley and Jake would then “materialize” dressed as aliens on the ground at the end of the light beam. In the meantime, Britt would spot the aliens and get the message to the entire crowd, along with confusing and panicked messages about what was happening. Messages that would encourage the crowd to rally toward Area 51, if they weren’t already so inclined. She’d also spread the word online to the mainstream medias and legions of other alien watchers.
This is where the timing got tricky. Ashley and Jake would bound and fly through the air toward Area 51, encouraging the crowd to follow them. At one point, Jake would disappear and reappear hundreds of yards away as if by … magic.
Actually, it would be Zach who did the reappearing. Then Jake would leapfrog him and repeat the magical feat, leading the crowd to the front gate of Area 51.
At the same time, Ashley would split off in another direction and lead as much of the crowd as she could toward the back entrance of Area 51. RIOT had specified they wanted as much breach capability as possible.
Ashley, though, was supposed to disappear long before the crowd caught up with her. She’d accomplish this by doing one of her quick changes and then hiding out to join the crowd once it caught up with her. From there she’d join Britt in guiding the masses toward Area 51. This is where the lack of cover made the illusion riskier than Rock liked. It was devoid of even a decent-size cactus. This is also where it got so fun that if Stone hadn’t been in danger, Rock would have been barely able to contain himself.