Page 39 of Out of Control

Abruptly he registered that this was most definitely not a motel room. In fact, it was a train carriage. Horror ripped through him.

“What did you do?” he gasped. Good Lord, his throat was parched. He could barely make a sound, it was so dry.

Drago grinned down at him. “Sucks, doesn’t it?”

“What sucks? What did you do?”

“Relax. Your head will clear soon enough. It took me about a half hour to shake off the effects of the stuff in your hypodermic.”

What?Comprehension hovered frustratingly just out of reach.

Drago seemed to take pity on him, for he explained, “I waited for you to fall asleep in the motel. Then I lifted the hypodermic out of your pocket and hit you with it. You’ve been out long enough for a friend to fly us to Prague and help me load you on a train.”

“What?”

“Karma’s a bitch, ain’t it?”

“Sonofa—” His initial impulse was to clock Drago in the face, but with the sedative still coursing through his system, he would only lose and Drago would drug him again. If he’d been out for thirty-six hours, Drago had obviously found his stash of sedatives and been using them on him all this time. The guy surely had another needle of unconscious cooperation loaded and ready to go. It was what he would do—had done—in the same situation.

Chagrin, and the faintest hint of grudging respect, coursed through him.

“Where are we?” he asked in resignation.

Drago looked out the window. “Germany. We’ll arrive in Berlin in a couple of hours. I wanted you awake before we get there because the Germans won’t be as bribable as the Czechs were. They were willing to look the other way when I dragged you aboard the train unconscious.”

Spencer tried to sit up, but his body was still uncertain of cooperating. He banged into something hard and metal that yanked at his wrist, and he glanced down. Drago had him cuffed to the armrest between them.

No doubt Drago had lifted the cuff key from his pocket while he was stealing the drugs. Damn.

“Why Berlin?” he mumbled. He was starting to feel like a bit of an ass for letting Drago turn the tables on him like this.

“I want to visit the brothel again, to see if I can find out who really killed Fayez Khoury. If nothing else, maybe I can prove to you that I didn’t kill the man and that the rendition order on me is crap.”

“You really have to learn how to let go of a bone,mi amigo.”

“I didn’t kill Khoury, dammit.” When Spencer didn’t respond, Drago ground out, “Why won’t you believe me?”

“Even if I do believe you, your employer thinks you did it, and that’s what matters right now.”

“Help me prove I’m innocent, then.”

“Why should I? You’ve drugged me, kidnapped me, dragged me across half of Europe unconscious, apparently, and handcuffed me to a train seat.”

“Thanks for the recap,” Drago replied wryly. “As for why you should help me? Let’s ignore the fact that I recently saved your life. Or that we used to be lovers. Or that I once loved you.”

Wait. What? Drago’d loved him once upon a time?

Mind. Blown.

Drago continued, “Or, oh, I don’t know. To prevent a miscarriage of justice? I thought that sort of thing used to mean something to you. Do you just totally not give a shit about anything anymore? Oops. I forgot. You only give a damn about your career. Screw anything or anyone who gets in the way of that.”

Spencer huffed, irritated at that characterization of himself, but Drago barged on. “I thought you actually cared about me once. Doesn’t that count for anything? To hell with us being lovers. We were friends. I trusted you.”

Spencer stared at Drago, who stared back. “Why would I believe a word you say after this?” He rattled his cuffed wrist.

“Because I believed you—hell, Itrustedyou—after you did the same damned thing to me. Because I gave you my word and stuck to it.”

What the hell was he supposed to make of that? Did he dare take Drago at his word? The accomplished liar. The undercover operative. The spy trained in the art of deception. “How the hell am I supposed to trust you?” he yelled, frustrated. “I know how you’re trained. What you’re capable of.”

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