"I agree. Don't worry. They won't make you do the job. They've got a pool of men who can off an innocent girl and somehow still sleep at night."
Over his dead body, but he didn't offer that bit of information to Monroe. "Where'd they find men like that? The back alley of hell?"
Monroe shrugged. "They serve their purpose. Can't say I'd invite them home for dinner with the wife and kids, but we've used them before."
David looked at the colonel. He respected Monroe more than almost anyone, yet Monroe sat there, talking about killing Noelle as if it were just another distasteful op that would be full of mosquitoes and cold mud.
David wanted to feel sorry for Monroe and all the shit he must have lived through to make him hard enough inside to be so casual about killing, but instead, he found himself hating the man for even thinking about hurting an innocent woman. David had spent his life suffering and killing to protect the innocent. Yeah, he'd done some horrible things that still haunted him late at night. And yeah, he wished away a lot of days on dreams of a different line of work. But in the end, he was doing the right thing. He killed scum so that the innocent could live.
But Monroe was talking about killing one of those innocents whom David had devoted his life to protecting.
Somehow, that put them on opposite sides of an invisible line.
David stepped away from Monroe, unable to look him in the eye without giving away the burning hatred that flooded his gut.
Monroe placed a wide hand on David's shoulder and it was all he could do not to shrug it off and break the man's wrist.
"We've still got time to change her mind," said Monroe.
"You've already threatened her with torture and death, and she still hasn't come around. What the hell do you think will work? Oh, wait, I know. We forgot to say 'please.' I'm sure that was it."
"Don't be an idiot, son. It's obvious that this whole thing is chapping your ass, but the bottom line is that you'd better stop hating me for giving you the truth and start looking for something that will change her mind. You were with her the longest of any man here. You've got to have some idea of how we can convince her."
David searched his memory for some soft spot in her armor. She didn't have a child, for which David was grateful.
Any kid of hers would certainly have been used as a pawn.
Two weeks of intel said that she didn't go out with friends, at least not during the time she was being watched. She went to work and came back home with the occasional trip to the grocery store or library. She had family they could threaten—parents and a sister who lived in Kansas. David could see using them as a last resort, but somehow, he didn't think threatening to kill her family would make her warm up to their way of thinking.
The only thing he could think of was the way her eyes lit up when she looked at that paper Monroe had shown her.
David would have sworn she was looking at the Holy Grail of ciphers. Maybe there was a chance they could whet her appetite enough and get her interested in solving the puzzle just for the sake of knowing the answer.
Of course, even if she did break the code, what were the chances of her presenting it in a format that would be useful to the CIA? Just because she knew the answer didn't mean she had to share.
David ran a hand over his chin feeling the stubble of his three-day beard. He was tired. Frustrated. Angry as hell.
He needed some air to clear his head. There had to be something he was missing. He didn't know Noelle that well, but there had to be some way to convince her to help.
That code would tell them the location of several nuclear warheads that had been hidden in Russia during the height of the Cold War. That was why the Swarm was so dead set on breaking that code before the CIA did. Intel had told them at least that much. Word was, twelve good men had died just for that little tidbit of information.
If Noelle didn't help, those twelve lives were wasted. Not to mention the fact that if David didn't know where the Swarm was, he wasn't going to be able to get his revenge. He'd vowed to kill them all, and that was exactly what he meant to do.
But even the need for revenge was not strong enough to overshadow his desire to see Noelle safe. And the only way she was going to stay safe was to agree to work with the military, ITiey'd offer her protection in exchange for her work. It was a symbiotic relationship, and probably not a comfortable one, but the only real option she had.
Whatever he did, he had to think of a way to get her to cooperate and fast. With only twenty-four hours left, there wasn't a lot of time to change Noelle's mind. He had to find a way to weaken her resolve.
In the end, he had only one card left to play, and the thought of using it made him break out in a cold sweat. His past was not a friendly place. If he shared it with her, she'd know just how horribly he'd failed. His biggest mistake would be highlighted in vivid color in all its gory detail. And even if he did it—even if he bared his past and his dishonor, it still might not be enough to convince her to cooperate.
David knew he had no choice. He had to try. Failing another woman was not a sin he was strong enough to live with, and like it or not, he'd gotten himself involved in Noelle's life, tying their fates together. If she died, so would he.
He'd do whatever it took to protect her. And, unfortunately, that included facing his past again.
CHAPTER SEVEN
Noelle's arm was aching, but not nearly as much as her head. All she wanted to do was curl up on her old, secondhand couch with a blanket and a good book and pretend that none of this had ever happened.
For the first time in her life, she wished she had been born stupid. At least then she wouldn't be sitting here wondering whether or not she was going to five to see her twenty-seventh birthday. She'd be out at a club somewhere with Muffy and her giggle-gang getting drunk and picking up men.
Man, that was the life.
But instead, she was in this dingy little room, waiting to see how long she had until they executed her.
The bulletproof vest David had made her wear cut into her sides, so she took it off. It wouldn't help if they wanted her dead, anyway. They'd just go for a head shot.
The room was cold, so she pulled David's shirt back on over her others, wishing for a blanket to cover her chilled toes. It was probably some sort of interrogation technique to make her as uncomfortable as possible so she'd be more willing to get out of here by giving them what they wanted.