Sean Cutter knew from experience that good news never came
in the dead of night. For an instant he considered not
answering his cell phone.
"Cutter," he growled.
"It's Martin."
Uneasy surprise rippled through him at the sound of his
former superior's voice. Martin Wolfe was CIA and at the
very top of the agency food chain. At one time the two men
had been friends, but that friendship had ended a year ago
when Cutter walked away from a career he'd invested twelve
years of his life in. A fact that made this call at two
o'clock in the morning all the more ominous.
"Why in the bloody hell are you calling me at this hour?"
Cutter snapped. But he'd always known the call would come.
He'd known one day they would want him back, that he
wouldn't be able to refuse.
"The Jaguar is in the country," Wolfe said. The name
slammed into Cutter like a fist. For several interminable
seconds he couldn't speak.
"You there?"
Shaking himself mentally, Cutter sat up, threw his legs
over the side of the bed. "Talk to me."
"I got three dead U.S. Marshals and a missing Defense
Department scientist. The Jaguar wants the scientist."
Cutter got a bad feeling in the pit of his stomach. "Why?"
"She was the brain behind the EDNA Project." The situation
solidified in a terrible rush. The EDNA Project was a top-
secret weapons program funded by the Department of
Defense. Though his knowledge of the weapon itself was
limited, he knew DOD had been developing a new generation
of weapons. A technology The Jaguar would do anything to
obtain. If he got his hands on the scientist, he would
possess a weapon the likes of which mankind had never seen.
"Martin, I've been out of the CIA for two year β"
"I need you back, Sean. I don't have to tell you what this
son of a bitch is capable of."
Cutter knew exactly what The Jaguar was capable of. He had
the scars to prove it. And even after two years, he still
had the nightmares...
"If he gets his hands on EDNA, every city in the world
will be at risk of being incinerated. We can't let that
happen."
Cutter closed his eyes, the gravity of the situation
sinking in. "Why me?"
"Because you know The Jaguar better than anyone.You've got
the training. The experience."
The killer instinct, Cutter thought darkly and felt a
little sick. After what happened on his last mission, he'd
sworn never again...
A refusal teetered on his lips, but he didn't voice it.
Sean Cutter might have walked away from his career, but he
never walked away from duty. Not even when he knew it
could probably kill him.
"I want you to find the scientist before The Jaguar does,
and bring her in."
It seemed a simple assignment on the surface. But Cutter
knew there was more. With Martin Wolfe, there was always
more. "What else?"
"I want you to bring The Jaguar in this time, Sean.
Homeland Security has given me forty-eight hours to get
this done. After that I have to take this public. Bring in
local law enforcement and FBI."
"And if The Jaguar gets to her before I do?"
"You have the authority to do whatever it takes to make
sure she doesn't talk."
"What are you saying, Martin?"
"I'm saying she's expendable. If the situation boils down
to her life or the population of Los Angeles or New York
or Houston, I want you to take her out."
Cutter closed his eyes, dread seeping from every pore like
fear sweat.
"I'll catch the next flight out."
"I've got a Lear waiting."
"Pretty damn sure of yourself, aren't you?"
"No, but I am sure of you."
If only you knew, Cutter thought, and disconnected.
He sat down hard on the bed, dread roiling in his gut.
Putting his face in his hands, he tried not to think about
what he'd done.
IN THE PREDAWN DARKNESS, Mattie took the trail at a
reckless speed. The cuffs binding her hands hindered, but
she didn't slow down. Her labored breaths echoed against
the canyon walls. A cold wind swept through the gorge,
whipping the trees into a frenzy.
She'd been running for what seemed like hours. She didn't
know where she was or where she was going, raw panic
driving her forward. All she knew was if she stopped she
would die.
She couldn't believe her life had come to this. One short
year ago she'd been living comfortably in a Washington,
D.C., suburb. She'd driven her little blue Jetta to work
every morning. She'd been happy. Challenged by her work.
And falling for her attractive coworker, Daniel Savage.
Everything had come to a grinding halt the day two grim-
faced CIA agents walked into her office and arrested her
for treason.
Treason.
Even now the insanity of the charge still stunned her.
Overhead a spear of lightning split the sky. Mattie ducked
reflexively but she didn't slow her pace. She knew it
would take a miracle, but if she could reach a phone, she
could call Daniel. He would know what to do. He would help
her if she asked, even if it meant risking his own
reputation to do it. All she had to do was find a house or
passing motorist.
Something rustled in the brush to her right. Biting back a
cry, Mattie veered left. Don't stop! the little voice
inside her head chanted. Don't look behind you!
The shadow of a man appeared seemingly out of nowhere and
lunged at her. She pivoted, trying to scramble away. But
she wasn't fast enough, and a hard body plowed into her
with the force of a Sherman tank.
Mattie had expected claws and teeth or maybe an expedient
shot to the head. Instead, strong arms clamped around her
like a vise and tackled her to the ground. Spitting dirt,
she rolled and lashed out with both feet. Satisfaction
flicked in her brain when her assailant grunted. The next
thing she knew he was on top of her. With her arms bound
she could not defend herself.
"Get off me!" she shouted.
She caught a glimpse of dark eyes. She felt the tremendous
force of his strength, and her only thought was that these
were the last moments of her life.
"If you want to live you'll be quiet." Mattie barely heard
the rough whisper over the wild pounding of her heart. She
tried to twist away, but he was heavy and strong, pinning
her with ease.
"What do you β"
A hand slapped over her mouth, cutting her words
short. "Shh."
Mattie stilled, and for an instant the only sound came
from their labored breaths and the tinkle of sleet against
dry leaves. Blinking hair from her eyes, she looked up,
found herself staring into icy, blue eyes.
"There are four heavily armed men less than two hundred
yards away," he said in a low voice.
"Make another sound and they'll kill us both. Do you
understand?"
For an instant the sense of helplessness and terror nearly
overwhelmed her. But Mattie could tell by the look in his
eyes that if he wanted her dead, he would have already
done it.
She jerked her head. Never taking his eyes from hers, he
removed his hand from her mouth and put his finger to his
lips. His eyes scanned the surrounding darkness. Reaching
out, he grasped the base of a long-dead bush and dragged
it over them. The bush was large and full and in the
semidarkness would cover them completely.
He turned to her and looked into her eyes, his expression
tense. He was lying squarely on top of her with some of
his weight on his elbows. "Don't move," he whispered. "I'm
not going to hurt you."
His body was rock hard, his muscles taut. At some point
during the struggle her legs had opened, and he was lying
between her knees, pressed intimately against her. He was
no longer breathing hard, but she was.
"The tracks end here!" A heavily accented voice cut
through the night like a blade.
"She's using the stream to hide her tracks." Another
voice. Frighteningly near.
"We should have had her by now. We're running out of time."
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