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Carlos gave her a wry smile. “No, you won’t. You may not even leave here a free person, and you sure as hell aren’t getting near a phone you can operate anytime soon.”

Okay, that severely limited her options. They acted like some form of intelligence or security operation, but they didn’t use legal tactics. Of course, she doubted the CIA or MI6 would either. She hadn’t been shoved into a chair and had a spotlight shone in her eyes, but that was so over-the-top American Hollywood she wouldn’t have expected it either.

But neither had anyone pulled out a badge to prove they had the right to hold her. She’d point out that lack of protocol if she didn’t believe they would laugh her out of the room.

“Then who are you people? Who do you work for?” she asked.

“I told you, we protect national security, but this organization doesn’t exist as far as the United States government or any other government is concerned.” Rich black lashes brushed Carlos’s cheek with each slow, patient blink. “And, if that isn’t enough to convince you that cooperating is in your best interest, no one knows we have you and we have the power to hand you over to any country that produces documents proving they have reason to prosecute you. Plus, we have the ability to provide any documentation to assist them.”

Uh-oh. She’d run across some bizarre groups while entering different agency mainframes, but hadn’t pla

Were they truly part of the American defense mechanism?

Dreadful as this was, it could be worse. She could be facing Durand Anguis, who wouldn’t ask questions in so civilized a ma

“I’m Gabrielle Saxe,” she finally admitted.

Silence invaded the room.

She waited for some acknowledgment. None.

An interrogation tactic? Most likely. Her skin chilled at facing an uncertain future.

She glanced at Carlos, and for a brief moment she could swear worry slipped into his gaze. Was it a sincere emotion or just part of his professional routine?

Whom was she kidding? He didn’t care. This was his job.

“That’s correct,” Gotthard finally confirmed. “Just got the results of the search.”

She let out a breath, glad she’d jumped ahead of the report coming back. That was too close.

“What exactly do you do all day?” Rae interjected.

“I use my computer skills to keep an eye on groups that threaten world peace,” Gabrielle said. That had a positive spin, not too much and nothing they could call a lie.

“Who do you work for?” Rae asked.

“No one. I’m financially secure.”

“Wait a minute.” Korbin tapped a finger on the shiny obsidian surface of the table, then stared at her, eyes squinted. “Gabrielle Saxe, as in the Gabrielle Saxe that married Roberto Delacourte years back? The actor who knocks down about twenty-five million a movie?”

“Yes. We were married…for six months.”

“That explains the financially secure part,” Rae quipped.

“I have my own money.” Gabrielle rarely discussed her finances, never in fact, but Rae had made it sound as though she’d been a gold-digging groupie. She’d been taken by Roberto’s sexy smile and charm, but she’d never wanted anything but to be loved by him. In the end, she’d realized she’d rushed into marriage out of loneliness. He’d lied to her from day one, playing her like the naïve fool she’d been back then.

She’d been faithful every miserable day of those six months, too. Every painful day.

Murmuring erupted in the room.





Carlos raised his hand. The room quieted immediately. “We’re not interested in your tabloid love life, Gabrielle. You’ve established that you can afford to sit around all day playing on the computer.”

Tabloid love life? Playing on the computer? She clamped her teeth so hard they clicked.

“But you have yet to explain how you know about the Anguis,” Carlos continued. “Your blanket ‘I want to help world peace’ statement isn’t going to fly. You’ve broken enough laws in enough places to end up in prison somewhere. If you don’t have anything significant to share at this point, we might let you choose which country you’d prefer to be prosecuted in.”

Could he really do that? Gabrielle knew a great deal about international law, having studied that on her own, and had felt relatively certain she’d covered her tracks well enough to never get caught. But this group had found her and possessed electronic evidence to prove what she’d done.

She had no training to deal with situations like this. Or yesterday. Understatement.

“Fine, I admit I’m Mirage.” She leaned around, speaking to all of them. “Since I’m the one who shared information to begin with, I think it only fair you tell me what happened to Mandy.” All of this had happened because she’d tried to help a young woman in trouble. “If you found me, then you have to know what happened to her. Was she rescued?”

Carlos wanted to shake some sense into Gabrielle. Hadn’t she figured out her game was up and she had no more moves left? “We ask questions and you answer them. Understand?”

Gabrielle had been taking deep breaths and speaking calmly as if buying time to gather her thoughts and guarding her tone. But she answered through clenched teeth this time.

“I’m trying to cooperate, but if you want any answers from me, you’ll at least tell me if Mandy is safe. She’s the reason I took a risk that landed me here.” Gabrielle held her posture as rigid as a school principal in a room filled with faces lacking compassion, but Carlos could see her hands clasped in her lap. White-knuckled.

She maintained that same regal calm in the face of the threat he’d lobbed at her about handing her over to a country that would prosecute her.

Damn if he didn’t admire her spirit and backbone.

Her intense violet-blue eyes searched his for something. A degree of help or support?

Not now.

That silent reply must have come across loud and clear when disappointment dulled her bright gaze. She changed body language faster than most women switched shoes. Rattled earlier, then hurt, she now seemed determined to shield her emotions from everyone, or specifically him. To hide that she was terrified of her precarious future. She was wasting her time. She couldn’t cloak the vulnerability he’d already witnessed that was eating at his insides.

He didn’t want to feel anything for her, but those gorgeous eyes meeting his televised both compassion and fear for Mandy. The mistake would be allowing himself to see Gabrielle as anything other than what she was-a player in a deadly game.

One who should be answering questions to save her own butt.

Instead, she was worried about Mandy. So was he.

“Gotthard,” Carlos said. “Got an update on Mandy?”

The air sobered with apprehension for the young girl.

“Mandy went into a coma from blood loss-” Gotthard read further, then finished with “Bottom line, she’s still alive.”

A collective release of sighs filled the room.

“A coma?” Gabrielle gasped. “What went wrong? Who screwed up the rescue?” She’d winged that at the whole room.

Anger visibly bristled in response to the criticism.

She blew all her sympathy points with that outburst.

“Look, Gabrielle.” Carlos was not reining in his temper one inch. She’d leaped over a line into the proverbial fire. “We went wheels up twenty minutes after receiving your last message and made a HAHO jump into the French Alps at night during a damn blizzard to save Mandy.” He’d leaned forward, stabbing his index finger against the desk on each point. “If we’d gotten the information sooner, we might have reached her before she broke a glass to cut her wrists. You’re in no position to question anything my team did and had better start giving answers if you hope to ever see daylight again.”