Ruthless

by Marlie May

  “Encrypted codes were emailed to you by Aunt Becca,” he said. He paused in the doorway. “Hope you don’t mind me leaving you for a sec. I’ve got to take care of something urgent. Go ahead and look around. Get a feel for the operation. You know the crew already.”

  Nodding, I advanced into the room while the door shut behind me.

  “Watch out,” a gruff voice shouted from my right. “Incoming!”

  4

  Eli

  A sharp pop was followed by a whoosh, and a swarm of tiny metal objects made a beeline for my head. I ducked seconds before the mass of glittering drones impaled my face. While my heart thumped faster than I liked, the dull black bugs buzzed over me, their tiny wings skimming my hair. They circled and sped across the room like a horde of high-tech wasps.

  “Hell,” I said.

  “Eli,” Coop called out. Wearing safety glasses, he held a soldering gun and was working on a circuit board lying on a bench fitted into the far-right wall. “What a welcome, huh?”

  “Yeah.”

  While Coop returned his attention on the board, I studied the big open, windowless warehouse. The left wall supported low benches for hands-on jobs, plus computers with office chairs parked in front. The tall metal cabinets to the right of the benches must hold tools and equipment, though I imagined Flint also had a fully-stocked supply room. The back of the warehouse had been lined with noise isolation steel, interspersed with thick rubber mats—a bit like the kind you’d find in a high school gym only tougher.

  Jax strolled over, holding out his hand. “Fancy meeting you here.” Even though I could tell he was joking, my gaze still squared off with his as if we faced each other on a dojo mat, ready to see who’d come up the victor.

  My stiff stance was definitely related to cookies.

  “Nice to see you again,” I said. While I held a black belt, the steely look in Jax’s dark, blue-gray eyes told me it would take considerable skill to lay this well-muscled man out flat. Given the chance on a combat mat, I’d sure as hell try. “Didn’t get much chance to talk in Mexico.” Our wild goose chase after the elusive contact had kept us hopping 24/7. “You were Seabees, too, right?”

  “Yup. Computer Technician.”

  “Computer hacker, you mean?”

  Jax’s grin confirmed my assumption. “Eight years. Made Chief.”

  Usually took longer than eight years to rise to that rank, which meant Jax had impressed the board his first time through. Hackers would be in hot demand.

  “Senior Chief,” I said. “Eleven years.” I’d also moved up quickly.

  Jax gave me a random salute but we didn’t need to worry about that crap any longer. In our civilian roles, we were equals. “Flint said you’re our spy.”

  “Spy gear, anyway.” I’d specialized in cameras and other surveillance equipment in the Seabees. Went to multiple C schools.

  I felt a tap on my back but when I turned, nothing but a blank, beige wall stared back at me. Shaking my head, I faced Jax again.

  He waved toward the swarm darting across the high-ceilinged room in precise formation. The tiny black cloud split when it approached a steel beam, reforming immediately after passing. “I see you met our autonomous friends.”

  I squinted at them. “Machines run by artificial intelligence.”

  “They talk to each other. Learn from each other, too.”

  “Sweet,” I said. “No joystick or controller, right? You program them with a mission and send them out to do it.”

  Jax nodded, his gaze intent on the drones. “Someday soon, bigger versions of these babies will replace men and women in the field. They’re smarter. Faster. And expendable.”

  Unlike people. My hand twitched against my wounded thigh as I watched the tiny group buzz Coop, who totally ignored the mini beasts. They spun around and dove toward a camo-dressed mannequin standing in front of a rubber mat at the back of the room. After circling the figure, they zipped across the open space to dive-bomb me again. Like I was under attack by a horde of rabid mosquitos, it was all I could do to resist waving my arms.

  “Right now, I’m teaching ‘em how to act as decoys,” Jax said, humor coming through in his voice. “They’ve already been trained to scramble enemy air defenses. Picture this. You’ve got a missile headed your way and a group of our tiny friends flies into its path and distracts it, sending it in a new direction. If we program them right, they’ll divert the missile back the way it came. Imagine the surprise when we take ‘em out with their own weapons.”

  These drones could behave like viruses to medicine and become a big part of the military’s future.

  Jax grunted. “Eventually, we’ll mount them with cameras and teach them face recognition. That’s where you come in. With your expertise, we’ll send these little buggers out to hunt down terrorists. The only ethical dilemma we’re facing at the moment is whether we should arm ‘em with weapons or not.”

  Warfare was changing so fast, I could barely keep up. Would future battles be fought with armies solely made up of drones? Sounded a bit too Terminator for my taste but it sure beats dodging bullets. “Cool.”

  Another tap on my back. Pivoting sharply, I studied the area, finding nothing again. A low growl rumbled in my throat. What the hell kept poking me?

  With a nudge on my arm, Jax redirected my attention to the drones. “We call this group of prototypes Locust 3.”

  “What happened to Locust 1 and 2?”

  Jax grimaced. “You don’t want to know.”

  “Maybe I want to know,” someone said from behind us.

  I spun, crouching low, my arms spreading wide in defense.

  A shape that had blended in with the surroundings like a chameleon peeled itself away from the wall. Fabric rustled, and a body-less face appeared. Flint, looking too damn proud of himself. “Gotcha.”

  “Ass.” I straightened.

  Chuckling, Jax strode toward the far side of the room where the drones hovered over a table. Obviously, this wasn’t the first time Flint had pulled this trick on one of the crew.

  “What is that, anyway?” I asked, poking at his arm while marveling at how well he blended in with the surroundings.

  “Like it?” Flint grinned, looking down. “We call it a stealth cloth.” More fabric rustled when it dropped to the floor. He stepped forward, fully revealed, and turned to lift the almost opaque piece of material off the concrete floor. He held it out toward me. “Works like a mirage, bending light away from the wearer.”

  I fingered the stiff fabric and hefted it. “Weighs practically nothing.” I could already see the possibilities in combat situations. Like crossing an open area to avoid enemy fire. Sneaking into a hostile compound.

  “Works in just about any terrain but when we made it into a suit, we sweated underneath like a sinner in church.” Flint swiped a hand across his forehead and grimaced. “Still trying to figure out how to cool the soldier with mini AC powered by battery packs without making the uniform too heavy. We also need to make it thinner and more flexible, so it won’t hinder movement.”

  “Another work in progress like the drones.”

  “But damn fun to play around with until we’re ready to send it off for further, in-depth testing, right?” He slapped my shoulder.

  I was itching to see what I could do with the stealth cloth already. Maybe I could work out something with lithium batteries.

  Flint strode to a table and dropped the cloth. He returned with two sets of noise-reduction headphones. “Might want to put these on.”

  I settled the headset over my ears and glanced around, wondering what was up now.

  A woman dressed in a calf-length pink skirt and a lacy white top exited a door on our left and walked into the middle of the room with what vaguely resembled a small RPG-7 rocket launcher lying across her shoulder. In sharp contrast to her four-inch black heels, she wore safety glasses and neon green earplugs. Her long, black braid fell past her shoulders from underneath the back of the ballistic helmet s
he’d strapped onto her head.

  Haylee. In her late-twenties, she was our former commanding officer’s daughter and Flint & Mia’s cousin. Flint, Coop, Haylee, and I had served in the same Seabee company for a while, but she’d left the military about four years ago. During my interview, Flint told me he’d hired her.

  Weird that she’d shoot an anti-tank missile inside a warehouse. Even a toddler-sized version would take out the back wall.

  Jax leaned against a workbench, facing her, his gaze more intent on her than the drones. The tiny mechanical devices lingered beside him as if they watched—and learned—along with him.

  All clear, Flint hand-signaled Haylee, who nodded.

  She sighted down the barrel. When the launcher engaged, her slender body jerked but she maintained her footing.

  The blast jarred through my bones.

  Hitting the mannequin, the missile disintegrated much of its chest and sent it flying backward. After smacking into the thick padding behind it, the fake guy crumpled onto the floor. Obviously, she’d fired a souped-up blank. Enough to knock out a target but still leave the building standing. But the angle…She hadn’t been aiming directly at the mannequin.

  I hauled off my headset. Curving ammunition? I’d heard rumors about—

  “Hot damn!” Haylee set the RPG-7 on the floor. She yanked off her helmet and tossed it and her earplugs aside then danced in a circle, swaying her hips, her arms waving overhead. “Enemy soldier down. Enemy soldier down. Got any more dudes with attitude hanging out in the back room, Jax? ’Cause I have so got to teach them a few lessons.”

  His attention directed downward, Jax mumbled something that could’ve been yes or no or who knows what. An odd contrast to how outgoing he acted with Mia. Wait…Mia had teased Jax about being shy but I’d seen nothing to confirm that in my interactions with him.

  But if he was hot for Haylee…Was that it? If he was one of those guys who could talk it up with any woman except the one he was interested in, this situation was going to be tough. Working together would be a big enough challenge, let alone asking her out.

  Almost made me want to make some popcorn, put my feet up in a recliner, and watch the show.

  Haylee’s attention flicked in my direction, and she hooted and ran toward me. As if to confirm my assumption, Jax’s eyes followed her with distinctive yearning.

  Stalling in front of me, Haylee grinned. “Finally, the company’s back together.”

  “Plus, me,” Jax added forlornly, coming over to join us.

  “It’s okay, honey. You’re part of the family, now.” Haylee looped her arm around his waist.

  Jax’s breath hissed out. Damn. It was all I could do to hold back my grin.

  He stepped away from her as if she’d burn him on contact.

  Did Haylee read the situation the way I did? From the way her smile trembled, I’d say no. Her back stiffened and she presented it to Jax. That would teach him. Ha.

  She pouted at me. “Can’t believe you live local and didn’t come to see me already. I moved to the area a few months ago.”

  “Don’t remember you calling me to let me know. How about we get together next week?”

  “Will do. I’ve missed you.” She tapped her chin, and a speculative gleam filled her eyes. “Since you’ve been blowing me off, you owe me.”

  I rolled my eyes. “Name your price.” Haylee always had been good at getting her way. And if she was interested in Jax… Definitely needed to make that popcorn.

  “I have a feeling you might have a little tequila hanging around somewhere,” she said.

  She’d gotten wind of the bottles I’d brought back from Mexico. “Deal.” Planned on giving her one once I heard she was a part of Flint’s crew.

  “If you guys are finished destroying things for the moment,” Flint said, slanting a glance toward the pulverized mannequin. He tilted his head toward the door. “Uncle Sid and Gabe have arrived. It’s time for our meeting.”

  “Perfect.” Haylee linked her arm through mine and tugged me along, totally ignoring Jax, who continued to watch her. “I’ll show you where the conference room is while you tell me what you’ve been up to since we last saw each other.”

  We left the shop and walked down the hall.

  Inside the conference room, a tall, gray-haired man stood in front of the long row of windows. As Haylee left me to round the table, the man turned, a big smile rising on his face. “Honey.” He kissed his daughter. He nodded to his nephew, Flint before his gaze fell on me. “Damn, if it isn’t Eli. Heard you’d joined the crew.”

  “Admiral Rhodes.” I strode around the table and shook our former commanding officer’s hand. This man had replaced the father who’d abandoned me as a kid, watching over me and guiding me throughout my career. I was a better person solely because of him.

  Some guys took up golf when they retired, but Admiral Rhodes filled his free time with consulting work for the government. Only in the area for the summer—he and his wife owned a home on the coast—Flint mentioned he’d be driving out today to join us.

  “None of that. It’s Sid, now,” the Admiral said.

  I tugged on my collar and resisted the urge to salute. While we were close, being on a first-name basis with this man would take getting used to.

  Sid nudged my shoulder with his knuckles. “Work on it.” He took a seat.

  Gabe Jameson pushed back his chair and stood, his hand extending. “Great to see you again, Eli.”

  I’d met Gabe during a six-month training at Camp Lejeune where we’d spent too much of our day time crawling through swampland, followed by too many late nights drinking beer and playing football under the lights. I’d run into him in the Middle East a few times, as well, and looked forward to working with him again.

  Flint couldn’t have picked a better team.

  “Okay everyone, let’s get started.” Flint waved to the captain’s chairs surrounding the table.

  “Anyone else coming today?” Sid asked. He took a long swallow of his coffee.

  “This is it for now.” Flint turned to me. “I’m trying to recruit Hawk, but I’m not making much headway.”

  “He’s still in Afghanistan, isn’t he?” I asked. Hawk was another Chief with a few months left in his current tour, last I’d heard.

  “I wanted to get a jump on him early. Plant the idea in his head before he reenlists.”

  “I’d love to work with him,” Coop said from beside me. He tapped his pencil on the table, frowning. “I might have a few other guys in mind I can send your way.”

  “That would be awesome,” Flint said. He opened a manila folder, pulled out a sheaf of papers, and slid one across the dark, gleaming oak table, toward each of us. “Update on our Mexico project. After we ran into issues, I did more investigation. Discovered our contact had been compromised. That’s why he went missing.”

  Double agent? If I knew Mexican drug cartels, the man was now feeding the stingrays.

  “You think the cartel eliminated him before he could give us the goods.” Gabe studied the paper. He tugged on his light blue patterned tie that contrasted with his darker, expertly-tailored jacket. Dude dressed up all the time, even when he hit the local bar scene.

  “Hard to tell how,” Jax said. “We locked him down behind a wall of security.”

  “If he’d remained inside the perimeter, a flea wouldn’t have been able to reach him,” Flint said and added for Sid’s benefit, “From all appearances, he disarmed the system himself and walked out. The alarm triggered and the guy at the gate notified us. We beat it over there fast, but our contact was nowhere to be found.”

  “Had a tracker on him, too,” Jax said.

  “Removed it and dumped it in a flower bed,” Coop offered dryly.

  “Whoa,” Haylee said. “What’s going on with this job?”

  Flint grunted. “Not much, now. Without him feeding us information, we’re dead in the water. We’re also missing the data he promised. And Maestro’s true identity.”


  “Fancy name for an asshole,” Sid said.

  I had to agree. Anyone who’d bring laced drugs into the country and sell them to kids should be locked away for the rest of their life.

  Our assignment was to provide intel to take down a small branch of the larger drug cartel tree by gaining evidence implicating cartel sympathizers high in the Mexican government. This would then be used to discover who the organization was affiliated with here in the U.S. One man—or woman—who controlled the entire northeast operation. The Maestro.

  From what Flint told me, the guy who’d gone missing in Mexico had kept all the details in his head. With him gone, the project was stalled. Now, Flint would have to scramble to find someone else who’d be willing to risk his skin to squeal on his bosses.

  Sid leaned forward, and his voice boomed. “Have you thought about sending another operative back in?” His glance cut to Jax, who was staring longingly at Haylee sitting beside him.

  Haylee being Sid’s daughter would make any sane man think twice. Rumor had it Sid had done everything he could to ensure she received the safest deployments, which must’ve irritated Haylee, a weapons specialist and gunner’s mate. The way she’d taken out that sniper with one shot in the Middle East told me she was as eager as the next Seabee to jump into action.

  Maybe Jax would be up for it, though. From what Flint told me, the guy thrived on danger. First to bail out of a helo while under enemy fire. Rappel down a cliff into hostile territory before the rest of the crew could even dream about popping the safety off their weapons. Heard he even crash-landed a plane in the desert once. Before he got his pilot's license. But if he wasn’t careful, Sid would burn him alive. Haylee's father hadn’t just policed her military assignments. One guy she dated suddenly found himself on an eighteen-month mission on the border between North and South Korea.