Too close. He clicked through the options in his head, a head reeling with relief over finding Darcy still alive. Wobbly but alive. She stared back with glazed eyes as Perry jerked her closer.
Jammed a 9mm in her side.
What had Perry done to her since taking her? He couldn't let himself sink into that nightmare. The past half hour scouring the island had been beyond hell.
And then the answer had exploded into his mind with more of Darcy's Technicolor perceptions. He knew exactly where a sick bastard intent on replaying her past would go. Lovers' Leap, where her kidnapping had culminated before.
The SPs and Crusty were only minutes away from responding to his alert—hopefully hauling ass up the cliff right now.
If Darcy had minutes left.
Max searched her for signs of injury, but her flight suit seemed unmarred by blood. She squeezed her eyes shut, tight, blinked hard and shook her head. Drugged. She'd been drugged and was fighting it. Of course Darcy was fighting. Her slack arms took on a whole new meaning as he realized how hard she must be battling sleep.
Hang on a little longer.
Gun level, Max eased left, closer to the three-sided edge of the cliff. He searched for an opening, a clear shot at Perry that wouldn't put Darcy at risk, and damned well couldn't find more than a small patch of Perry's shoulder right beside Darcy's head. He needed more time. "Perry, I don't know what the hell's going on here, but think of your family. Your wife and your kids. Don't make them live with knowing you're a murderer."
"I'm already a killer, Max." Perry's gun pressed deeper into Darcy's side as he dragged her limp body nearer to the edge: "Every agent overseas I turned in who died. That's already on me. What's one more? It's over and I know it. I am so damned tired of playing second-string Robin to your Batman front and center. I want to take some satisfaction with me."
Satisfaction? What was he missing here? If he could fit that last piece into the puzzle, he would understand how to play this scene out longer and buy time for backup. "Satisfaction? For what?"
"You should have been the one to die that day instead of Eva."
Damn right he should have died in her place, and he would have to live with that for the rest of his life. But he'd never had a clue Perry took her death so hard. Their Agency connections had been minimal.
Whatever Perry had in mind, no way in hell did Max intend to accept a replay of the past today with Darcy.
"That's right, Max. Remember it all. Who do you think Eva cried to every time you disappeared for your next big-guy deep-cover assignment? She respected me, the way I was willing to take on low-level operative status for my family. I did all this for love."
For his family? What kind of twisted logic was that? The guy had sold out his country, turned traitor. That wasn't love for his family.
Love?
Max looked at Perry again and saw... Holy hell, the guy was married.
"Yeah, Max." He nodded, his gun hand wavering. "I loved Eva, too. And you let her die."
Darcy twisted to glare at her captor. "Bastards who sell out agents killed her. Bastards like you."
The full power of Perry's hatred pulsed through the air. Illogical but real. Max didn't need the words to confirm a thing. Perry was through waiting—ready to go over the edge.>His hand falling away from his jaw, Max studied her face and found—determination.
He believed her. He didn't need any more words for confirmation even while all those pieces of information jammed against each other in ragged mismatching order.
Slowly she turned to the one-way mirror. Max felt her eyes smolder through. Connect.
No way could she see him, but her eyes locked dead-on. "Keagan might want to call and check up on his girlfriend."
Her implication popped right through the glass and into his brain like a bullet. Pierced him with a grinding certainty.
Snakes. The plane.
Screw wondering why Perry had it in for him. Where the hell was Darcy? She damn well should have arrived by now.
Max reached for the government phone on the wall. Snatched up the receiver. Punched in her room number at the VOQ.
Ring.
Pick up, damn it.