by Paige Tyler
“I’m sorry you’re having a hard time handling the new reality we’ve found ourselves in,” he added, getting his growl under control and throwing a look at Rory and Elliott to include them in the conversation. “And I’m sorry the world you thought you knew is a lie. But you need to grow up and get beyond the childish monster crap. Sometime in the next few days, we’re going to be dealing with some serious shit, and if the three of you aren’t fully on board and committed, then people are going to die. I won’t let that happen. If you can’t handle working with STAT, fine. Tell me now and I’ll have Weatherford reassign you to new teams. You can be out of Casablanca tonight.”
Erin, Rory, and Elliott all stared at him, seemingly stunned by his words. They searched his face as if trying to figure out if he was shitting them.
“You can’t be serious,” Erin said. “They have fangs for heaven’s sake.”
“Yeah, they have fangs. So does that vampire I shot half a dozen times,” he pointed out calmly. “The difference is that the vampire will use his fangs to rip out your throat while Harley, Caleb, and Jake will be using theirs to make sure that wanker doesn’t get the chance.”
Erin didn’t look convinced but didn’t say anything.
“Do you really think we can trust them?” Rory asked.
“I wouldn’t be working with them if I didn’t,” Sawyer said. “At the end of the day, it doesn’t matter what I think. The three of you are going to have to decide for yourselves. But do it soon. I don’t know when we’re going to get the word to move, but when we do, I don’t want to go charging into a firefight worrying you won’t be there when I turn around.”
His teammates looked shocked he’d even suggest they wouldn’t be there for him. Sawyer supposed his ultimatum was a little harsh, but he couldn’t find it in him to care. He, Erin, Rory, and Elliott had been together for nearly four years, fighting, sweating, and bleeding for each other, but there wasn’t a doubt in his mind they’d abandon his ass in a fast second if they knew he was a werewolf. Knowing that made it difficult to care about their feelings, even if he was judging them for something they hadn’t actually done yet.
Elliott opened his mouth to say something, but was cut off by the sound of the footsteps outside. Harley came in first, followed by the other five members of her team and Adriana. They looked tired, but also excited. In fact, little ripples of blue static danced along the pulse points of Adriana’s neck and wrists.
Harley gave him a curious look in between throwing covert glances at his teammates. It wasn’t hard to believe she’d picked up on the tension in the room, even if she claimed not to have much faith in her werewolf senses.
“Did you find out anything?” Sawyer asked as Misty sat down at one of the computers and stuck in a flash drive.
“We think so,” Forrest said.
Sawyer grabbed the chair beside Harley’s at the big table in the center of the room, appreciatively inhaling the sweet vanilla custard scent that always surrounded her. Around the table, his MI6 teammates sat down, too, and he breathed a sigh of relief. There was a part of him that truly thought they were going to walk away.
Caleb took a seat next to Erin, sliding a little closer and giving her a grin that displayed the slightest hint of fangs. The big omega seemed to know she didn’t like werewolves and took great pleasure in rubbing what he was in her face.
Erin got up and moved to the other side of the table, refusing to look at Caleb. The American werewolf made a show of sniffing his shirt, as if checking to see if he smelled. Sawyer snorted. Even Rory and Elliott must have thought it was funny because they were definitely trying not to laugh.
Within seconds, Misty started displaying the photos on the monitor, flipping through them so fast all Sawyer saw was a blur. She stopped on a picture of a narrow street lined on either side with shops simply exploding with color. Sawyer had spent several hours walking through the large open-air bazaar with Harley their first morning in Casablanca but didn’t recognize that particular section of the market. Then again, the place was a veritable maze of shops, many of them selling similar stuff.
“Jes and I checked out the Central Market near the marina again this morning,” Jake said. “The place has been packed with people every day since we got here, so I wasn’t holding out much hope of finding anything. But then I picked up the scent of blood belonging to that guy with the leather jacket Harley shot.”
Sawyer lifted a skeptical brow. The smell of blood was everywhere in that market, most of it from the fresh animal carcasses hanging up in the various shops, but some from the butchers who accidentally cut themselves while working. Then there were the random splashes of blood here and there on the street from the various fights people got into. If Jake had been able to pick up and recognize one specific smell, Sawyer had to admit he was impressed. His nose was good, but it wasn’t that good.
“You’re sure it was his blood you smelled?” Adriana asked, face tense.
There was obviously something about the guy that bothered her. It made Sawyer wonder if the a-hole had mistreated her while she was a prisoner. He hoped not.
“I’m sure,” Jake said. “I tracked the scent to a local man heading to his office carrying one of those old-fashioned-looking doctor’s bags.”
“You think he just came from treating the guy I shot?” Harley asked.
“Looks that way,” Jake replied.
“The Central Market would make a good place to hide the kidnap victims,” Rory said. “The place is a warren of interconnected buildings barely a mile from the marina. It’d be easy to get them in and out of the country from there.”
“You said you saw the doctor this morning,” Erin said, her voice dripping with suspicion. “What have you been doing since? If your nose is as good as you claim, you would have found the guy in the leather jacket already.”
Caleb rolled his eyes, but Jake didn’t get offended. “I radioed the rest of my team and we went back to where I first picked up the scent outside the market along Boulevard Ben Abdellah.”
Another picture popped up on the monitor of yet more shops fit so tightly together it was hard to believe people could move between them. But the street out front was broader, and the camera had captured several vehicles zipping past.
“The scent dissipated by then, so we spread out and spent the morning canvassing the area, pretending to be tourists and taking as many photos and videos as we could without looking too obvious. That’s how Harley caught sight of this.”
A video replaced the latest still picture on the screen. It was of a crowd of people milling around some shops while merchants hawked their wares and customers looked through the mishmash collection of leather goods and metal wall art. The sounds of people haggling over prices and city noises filled the air. The clip played for a good thirty seconds before coming to an end.
“Focus on the background,” Harley murmured as Misty played the video again. “Behind the racks of carpets.”
Sawyer did as she suggested, looking more closely this time. That was when he saw the guy in a dark jacket and jeans with long, perfectly straight hair. Right before disappearing through an open doorway behind the racks of carpets, he briefly turned to survey the crowd, like he was looking for a tail. If the hair hadn’t been a dead giveaway, the face was. It was the man from the nightclub. The one who could disappear whenever he wanted to. The one who’d nearly killed Harley.
“We pulled back the moment Harley IDed him, so they wouldn’t spot us,” Jake said as the video played one more time. “I’ve got half our support team sitting on the place and the other half digging up floor plans for that building and the ones on either side. They’re also going over satellite footage so they can tell us how long the bad guys have spent there, how many people there are, and whether there’s any indication the kidnapping victims are in there. We should have something useful in a few hours.”
Saw
yer tried to remember the last time his team had gotten access to satellite footage. Oh yeah, that would be never. Americans always got the cool toys.
“When do we go in?” he asked.
“Tonight, as the shops are closing up,” Jake said. “There’ll be enough people around to cover our movements, but the area should be mostly empty, which is good if it ends up being a gun battle.”
They talked about tactics for a little while, discussing how MI6 and STAT would work together during the raid before deciding which half of the joint team would focus on getting the weapons and transportation while the other half went over whatever intel the support team was lucky enough to gather.
Before Harley followed her team out, she threw a curious look his way, like she sensed the tension between him and his teammates. A moment later, Sawyer found himself alone with Erin, Rory, and Elliott. They were all looking at him expectantly.
He was tempted to say the hell with it and shift right there in front of his friends, so he could get it over with and they could walk out the door.
He wasn’t quite that stupid.
Or brave.
“So, the Americans are running this operation, I guess?” Erin asked, looking at him from where she sat on the other side of the table.
Sawyer’s inner wolf didn’t like the idea of letting someone else call the shots for his team, but he was smart enough to admit Jake had more experience with this supernatural crap and he was willing to let the American werewolf take the lead.
“Looks that way,” he said bluntly. “As for what we talked about before, I’m going to need that answer sooner than I thought. We’ll have to come up with a new plan for the raid if the three of you aren’t in.”
Without waiting for a reply, he got to his feet and headed for the door, keenly aware of their gazes on his back. The urge to turn around was difficult to resist, but he didn’t give in. Looking sure as hell wouldn’t make this whole thing any easier.
Chapter 6
Sawyer casually made his way through the darkened streets, moving like he had somewhere to be, but not so fast he’d draw anyone’s attention. Not that it mattered since there were few people out at this time of night to notice him. To the rest, he was one more foreigner in a city full of them. In some ways, it was almost like he was invisible.
He’d spent a little time in Tangier and Marrakesh, but his job had never brought him to Casablanca. The city was a unique mix of old and new, with five-hundred-year-old buildings beside towering skyscrapers. Inhaling slowly through his nose, his senses were flooded by the scents of dust, spices, gas fumes, and sweaty humanity. It should have been a nauseating mix, but somehow this place made it work. Suddenly, Sawyer found himself wishing he had time to sightsee with Harley, like they’d done in Paris. He got the feeling she’d find this city fascinating.
Sawyer pulled his duster a little tighter around him as a man walked past, instinct urging him to make sure his tactical vest and weapons were completely covered. Fortunately, it hadn’t been especially hot today, and now that the sun had gone down and the ocean breeze was sweeping ashore, it had cooled drastically. His long coat didn’t garner a second look even with the excessive amounts of gear he had strapped to his body. Going into this raid with all of it might have been a little overkill for a normal MI6 mission, but after the debacle in Paris, he wasn’t taking chances. If they were walking into a shootout with supernaturals, he was going to be ready.
As he got closer to the building, familiar scents reached his nose. Harley’s was the most obvious, but he could pick up Erin’s as well. Rory and Elliott were somewhere nearby, too. It felt good knowing his team was out there. That they stuck with him.
Outside the office they were using as an operations center, his teammates had caught up to him before he’d made it halfway to the line of rental vehicles on the far side of the parking lot. They’d told him there was no way in hell they were letting him walk into a dangerous situation on his own. They weren’t thrilled to be working with werewolves, but they’d put up with it for him.
It wasn’t the ringing endorsement he’d hoped for and he doubted they’d be nearly as willing if they knew he was a werewolf, but it was enough for now. He only prayed they got more comfortable with fangs and claws soon because he couldn’t imagine making it through this situation without his secret slipping out.
Sawyer slowed a block from the building the guy with the long hair had disappeared into earlier that day, making a production of checking his cell for a message.
“I’m in position,” he murmured into his throat mic as he glanced around, looking for anything that might make him think the traffickers were aware of his presence. “We’re all clear here.”
“Copy that.” Jake’s voice came back slow and steady. “Stand by until everyone else is ready to move.”
While he waited, Sawyer played with his phone like he was sending a text. But really, he was mentally shuffling through the floor plans of the building the STAT support team had come up with. It turned out the shop Long Hair had gone into was an entry point to a complex rabbit warren of interconnected rooms, tunnels, and storage spaces. While there’d only been one sublevel shown on the city drawings, the analysts were quick to point out there could be more that no one had ever bothered adding to the drawings.
The satellite footage they’d gotten hadn’t made him feel any better. There weren’t any images of the bad guys dragging their captives off any of the numerous ships that had docked recently or leading them through back alleys. In fact, there’d been nothing interesting to see around this particular part of the city.
Either Adriana had been completely wrong about Casablanca being one of the stops along the human trafficking railroad, or the traffickers hadn’t brought the captives from Paris here. Of course, it was also a possibility that Adriana had been right and that they were holding the captives here but were so good at hiding them, they’d never left a trace.
Sawyer wasn’t sure which of those possibilities worried him more.
When Jake finally gave him the go-ahead, Sawyer started moving again. As he approached the same door Long Hair had entered, he noticed there were a handful of merchants in the nearby shops, some putting away the last of their wares, others merely chatting. Sawyer ignored them as he slipped behind the now-empty carpet racks and made his way toward the doorway. It said a lot that none of the merchants even glanced at him. In fact, they seemed to go out of their way to look in the other direction. That meant they were used to seeing foreigners coming and going from the place and that they were leery enough of those same foreigners to look the other way.
The first room he entered was unoccupied, and a quick scan of the place didn’t reveal any cameras or other security equipment that might alert anyone to his presence.
“I’m in,” he said softly.
The only lights in the room came from those inside the glass display cases along the walls as well as a single naked bulb near the main counter. The cases held what looked like cheap costume jewelry, while the racks that filled the remainder of the shop were filled with boring dresses and simple robes. Nothing in the place was as high quality as the stuff sold in the surrounding shops, which meant it was almost certainly a front. He was surprised there wasn’t someone guarding the place. Even if the locals were smart enough to avoid the shop, surely the traffickers would have put someone there to keep people out.
He heard Erin’s footsteps before she walked through the door. She was quickly followed by Harley, then Caleb. Jake’s plan had the four of them acting as shock troops coming in through the main entry, where they were most likely to be noticed. They would be the distraction while Jake and everyone else slipped in through one of the back tunnels and rescued the captives.
Strangely, Erin seemed to be rather pleased with the assignment. From her perspective, being sent in the front door with two of STAT’s werewolves put her on par with them
—at least in the ability to commit mayhem. Jake had just met Erin and had already figured out how to work her. Of course, while Erin might be thrilled to be selected to go in first, she didn’t appear as warm on the idea of being partnered up with Caleb while Sawyer covered Harley. Sawyer would have laughed if the situation they were walking into wasn’t so dangerous.
Caleb slipped a large frame gun from the holster on his hip and jacked a round into the chamber. “Well, if they don’t know we’re here by now, they will soon.”
Sawyer dropped his duster to the floor and pulled out his own handgun, a Browning Hi-Power, the weapon he’d been carrying since his days in the regiment. It felt comforting and natural in his hand, familiar—like a friend. After chambering a round in the 9mm handgun, he slipped it back into the holster low on his right thigh, turning his attention to the shortened MP5 submachine gun strapped across his lower back. By the time he’d slid in a magazine and chambered the first round, everyone else was ready and looking in his direction.
“Okay,” he said with a nod. “Let’s go be a distraction.”
It wasn’t difficult to find the set of stairs behind the main counter, even though they were hidden behind a set of linen curtains. Dozens of scents hit him in the face as they descended. Of all the people who’d taken this stairwell in the past week, Long Hair’s was definitely the strongest by a long shot. Sawyer wished he could say for sure he was picking up one of their trafficking victims, but other than Adriana, he’d never gotten close enough to any of them to memorize what they smelled like. At least he didn’t smell the vamp, either. That had to be a good thing, right?
Sawyer led the way into the dimly lit corridor when they got to the bottom of the steps. The only light came from the old fixtures hanging every twenty feet or so. Why did there have to be more dark, dank tunnels? Hadn’t he reached his yearly quota in Paris?
