Marked for Death (A Gray Ghost Novel Book 6)

by Amy McKinley

  “So we’ll go in with a large sum of cash,” Jack inserted.

  “Yes. And supplies. Food and the gel packs or gummies we use to hydrate when carrying a large amount of water isn’t an option.” I traced the path of entry, camouflaged by forest. “This is a way off from where we want to be, but it’s well hidden and a good spot to stash the boat.”

  “Rich will have to get a US Embassy representative we can trust to leave a vehicle there for our use. Someone who will keep this information to himself and leave no paper trail.” Jack jotted notes for what we would need as we planned.

  “Civilian clothes, then.” Hawk continued to scan the map.

  “Yes. We’ll have to blend well. Moving at night, despite how dangerous the city is, will be our best option.” I highlighted an area where there was an inn no longer in business. “Have the official reach out to these people to get us a room. The place is deserted, and it should offer us the cover and location we need. Most of the people are not supporters of the Venezuelan president, as he has starved them and destroyed their businesses.”

  “We should be able to get in and out. Why the room?” Hawk asked.

  “That’s the plan, but there… things rarely go that way. It’s our contingency should we need to lay low.” I traced the path from the hotel a few miles away to where we had a visual of the crew that had our targets. “There are a lot of men here, and the fees they’re asking for hostage release are high. In this country, they’ve had express kidnapping, where they negotiate with the hostages to get what they can from their families for release. But the large amount of money they’re demanding indicates more of a criminal presence than the typical express kidnapping.”

  “So, you propose to enter here?” Jack circled the alley between two buildings.

  “Yes. All of us on foot and hopefully with minimal gunfire.”

  The kidnappers appeared on satellite pictures as if there was no worry of a rescue by the way their backs were mostly to the cluster of four hostages bound on the ground and near the outskirt of the courtyard where they congregated. The machine guns many wore were a concern.

  “That’s the plan, then.” Jack gathered the photos and stuffed them into an envelope. “I’ll get the boat, vehicle, and room secured for us. Anything we need to know about your time there?”

  “No. I’d prefer the past remain where it is.”

  “Should that change…” Jack waited.

  “I’ll bring you all up to speed if it does.” Hopefully never. “If everything goes the way we’ve planned, this will be an in-and-out job with the government never knowing we were there.”

  The government wasn’t the threat. It was the Dark Wings.

  3

  Keegan

  Unease itched under my skin as soon as we set foot in Venezuela. We illegally entered the streets of Caracas under the blanket of night. The government never would have allowed us entrance. The atmosphere reeked of danger. It should. In this politically torn country, gangs and criminals ran the streets after dark. People were starving, scared, and quickly losing hope.

  We’ll be in and out. I held that thought close to keep at bay the overwhelming urge to turn around and flee. Jack and Hawk were behind me as I guided us toward the last known location of the hostages. We tracked them from their first call then kept the satellite pointed on where they’d retreated. A general location lock was enough. We would find them.

  A lot of time had passed since I was last there, but the streets were eerily familiar. The look of them had changed, but the sinister taste remained. Only this time, I was entering voluntarily, not escaping.

  Due to the mission, we’d refrained from wearing standard military clothes. Instead, we had on jeans and long-sleeved black Henley shirts, despite the warm climate, with our gear strapped on or in backpacks. Blending as much as possible was necessary.

  I signaled behind me that the building ahead was our goal. Voices and music floated from the courtyard behind the small structure in front of us. We crept forward as one. The crackle of a fire and sound of men laughing and cheering covered our approach. At the edge of the building, I got a good look.

  The four male hostages were tied in two groups. Both were near the other side of the building, and their belongings, which we were also tasked to retrieve, were close to a metal garbage can that was on fire. Orange flames licked the air, casting a glow over the area. There were men with machine guns hanging at their sides and others with holstered weapons. Their attention centered on two comrades who arm-wrestled. A bet was in place, given the stack of money in the overseer’s hand. For the time being, the Americans were not their focus.

  I signaled for Jack and Hawk to approach from the opposite side. I would go around the left of the building. From behind, Jack squeezed my shoulder in acknowledgment.

  When they were in position, I advanced. Light flickered the closer we came to the courtyard. Pressed against the brick wall, I waited. Around the corner and in the center of the building’s open back area, the garbage-can fire provided light. There were seven men, not including the two sets of people tied back-to-back and sitting on the ground off to the left. There wasn’t enough coverage. We had to go in strong. I pushed off the wall and raced toward the hostages, crouching low. The men didn’t notice at first.

  Jack and Hawk were sprinting from the other side. Efficiently and quietly, we snuck behind the three guards who’d inched closer to the revelry on the other end of the courtyard. Once in position, we focused on the hostages.

  After a few more steps, we reached the men. “We’re here to take you home,” I whispered as my blade sliced through plastic ties and freed two of them. They slumped forward at the release. Jack and Hawk were at my side, and I shoved the hostages toward my teammates.

  The Americans were in bad shape. Bruises and dried blood covered their faces. Hawk hoisted one man in a fireman’s carry. Jack did the same with another. The last two rescued hostages stood on shaky legs. They turned at my indication to go toward my teammates. One of them scuffled along as quickly as he seemed capable. I would take the rear and provide cover. The bearded hostage didn’t go far.

  “Go,” I commanded under my breath. I had to recover their gear. Noise rose at the other end of the courtyard. With beers in hand, the captors’ conversation flowed. The other men had yet to notice us. We blended well and were trained to move like ghosts. In time, they would see us. The three guarding their charges would return any second.

  The cry went up. Guns were drawn. Drinking had slowed down their reflexes, but it didn’t matter. We’d been spotted. Three thugs advanced, the others slow to assess. I shoved the hostages closer to Jack and Hawk. One went. The other hesitated, wavering on his feet.

  The bearded hostage took one step then another toward the pile of gear close to the men who’d begun to turn at their buddy’s shout.

  “Go.” I grabbed the man I’d freed and gave him another gentle shove toward Jack and Hawk. I would provide cover. The other three men were with my team. Jack turned. I shook my head. I would handle it. The hostages were my priority.

  My mind emptied of all but the three thugs. The biggest rushed toward me with his fist cocked back, arcing to slam into my head. I shifted, using his momentum, and shoved him away. Off-balance, he stumbled around me, and I bent to avoid the next guy, whose punch was already aimed at my chin. I gave a kick to his knee and heard a satisfying crack. He screamed and went down. More men turned. Not good.

  The odds were not in my favor. With a glance behind, I was relieved to see that Jack and Hawk had gotten the others away. The bearded one must finally have gone with them. I didn’t see him.

  Not quite the extraction we’d planned, but it was close enough. Adrenaline fueled my every move. We would be out of there soon.

  There was no longer a need for stealth. Gun in hand, I fired off a succession of shots, taking out the men with machine guns closest to me. There was a flash of silver, and two more went down, but not by my hand. Short gurgling
sounded from the men, who each had a knife protruding from his throat. Then they were silent. A pool of blood spread on the ground.

  I whirled around in the direction of the knives as a sleek woman decked out in black and wearing a high ponytail approached, her face covered with a ski mask. A man three times her width attacked. I fought off my own, stealing glances as I was able. The way she moved as she engaged in combat—I knew her. Kara. What the hell is she doing here?

  I faltered from the shock of her presence. It cost me. I felt the burn of a bullet as it grazed the outer shell of my ear. The smooth exit my team had planned went up in smoke.

  My guy was lying on the ground, and I swept up the backpack we were told to retrieve. As I turned, a hard kick landed in my gut. Guns were going off. I had to keep moving. Kara blocked me. I dodged her feet. Then her fists came at me at a speed faster than they had when we were young.

  Goddammit. A hard body slammed into me, and I turned to take out the guy who’d jumped me as her hands slipped beneath the strap and yanked. I struck back at her. The pack went flying. Another engaged with her, and we were momentarily busy, trying to take out our guys to get to the bag first. Seconds went by. She finished first.

  “Where is it?” she yelled.

  The guy went down. More approached, and I shot her a look. We were outnumbered.

  Determination shone in her amber eyes. “Where’s the bag?”

  I scanned the area and caught sight of that stubborn hostage rounding a corner with the backpack over his shoulder. There was a swarm of criminals between him and us. With no choice, I grabbed her hand and yanked her with me as I ran.

  Kara being sent to retrieve the bag as well meant there was more going on than we were led to believe. We needed to find out what. Quickly.

  4

  Kara

  It’s really him. My gaze devoured him as he fought with grace and deadly precision. It wasn’t how I wanted us to meet again, but it didn’t matter—I had a mission and had to see it through.

  Bullets peppered the air. Our gazes collided, and for a split second, we were a team again. Keegan snaked an arm around my waist, yanking my body against his. We crouched and sprinted for cover while he shielded me. Annoyance sizzled, mixing with the adrenaline pumping through my body. I didn’t need him to take care of me. I pried his fingers off me as we ran. He was too distracting, and I couldn’t lose focus. Too much was at stake, as it always was.

  We cut across a parking lot as more men took notice of the disturbance. Keegan whirled and fired. We darted behind another building. I glanced over my shoulder. Two men rounded the corner. Dozens would soon follow. We needed a diversion.

  A bullet whizzed by, too close. The burn of its nearness singed my arm. Keegan maintained pace beside me. I caught a glimpse of a dilapidated side door on the building to our left. Keegan must have, as well, because he tugged my arm. His shoulder crashed into the warped wood. It popped open. I followed. We wove through rows of desks in the dark office, looking for a way out. They would be on us any second.

  The door banged against the opposite wall. They were inside. We were almost across the large room. I dipped my hand into a pocket on my vest and pulled out a grenade. Keegan pressed his mouth into a tight line just as I pulled the pin and tossed it. We dove for cover, and the weight of his body settled over mine. The grenade exploded, and debris rained down. Keegan’s scent washed over me before the acrid smell of smoke filled my nose.

  Intense gaze. Strong fingers. I swirled with dizziness at his touch. Then his deep, gravelly voice penetrated the ringing in my ears. “You okay?” he asked.

  “Yes.”

  Keegan rolled to the side, and the pang of loss swept through me. We weren’t meant to be. I shoved the longing away and pushed off the ground. We wove around the debris before he opened a window and we slipped through. He dropped down first then helped me.

  My eyes narrowed as I considered what his angle might be. “You know, I’m capable of taking care of myself, right?” I whisper-yelled at him.

  He grinned. “I do, but this gives me a reason to touch you.”

  I shivered despite the warmth of the night. We’d joined forces, in a way, and he fought admirably. Then again, he’d had those skills when we were younger. He saw to the heart of the matter and did what was necessary. Killing me didn’t seem to be his objective. “I attacked you. What gives you the idea I want your hands on me?”

  He ignored me as we ducked into another building. We maneuvered to a corner section, where each of us peeked through the windows. Men with machine guns crawled through the streets and alleyways. There were more than even he and I could take on. We were stuck.

  From our vantage point, we had a view out the large storefront window. We could make out movement on the street, but they wouldn’t be able to see us huddled there. It gave us a semblance of safety as we hid in plain sight.

  The hairs on the back of my neck rose, and I turned to find Keegan scrutinizing me with his typical intensity. A pale shaft of light highlighted the green in his hazel eyes. Danger and power clung to him, the things that had drawn me when we’d first met. I’d felt safer with him around. The others had made me nervous, uncomfortable, and afraid. If I let myself dwell too long on the past, the old hurt rose from when he’d left.

  “What’s your objective?” Keegan growled.

  “Probably same as yours,” I replied evasively.

  “Rescuing hostages? Why would the Dark Wings be interested in these Americans?”

  “Not all of them. One in particular.” I debated keeping the real reason to myself, but I didn’t care enough about the task I was to complete to keep it a secret. “More so the backpack, which I was to secure at all costs, even above the man.”

  “What was in it?”

  I didn’t know and shrugged as an answer.

  “Who ordered you to get it?”

  “Does it really matter? I had a job to do. You of all people know what that’s like. Very few questions are tolerated, if any.”

  Several seconds passed, and I had to remind myself to breathe. He was like a live wire, and energy crackled between us—it always had. Being around him was like facing a panther that could strike at any moment. He was a predator. When he spoke, the tension eased slightly between my shoulder blades. We had time to kill while we waited for the thugs to move on and the manhunt to thin out.

  His gaze crawled over my face before it dipped lower. “We didn’t get much talking in last time we saw each other.”

  Heat infused my cheeks. Images burst in my mind from that night nearly five years before. The feel of him… what he did to me. I would never forget the pleasure. It was a once-in-a-lifetime kind of moment, something I cherished and knew I would never have again.

  I chose my words with care. “I’m married.”

  A muscle ticked along his jaw. The sight of it sent a thrill through me. “How long?”

  “Five years.”

  His brows rose. “You married shortly after? Were you engaged then?”

  How to answer this one… “Not exactly. Soon after.”

  “Are you happy, Ankara?”

  His voice had softened, and my heart fluttered at the nickname he’d given me and whispered in the dark of night. “Yes.” I was, in a way. Samir was my best friend. What more could a girl want? Keegan, my traitorous heart screamed, but we weren’t meant to be.

  “And your father? I bet this makes Ahmed happy, although I’m not sure why you’re still working with the Dark Wings. Unless this is something else?”

  “I just do as I’m told.” There was no way he could know. If he did…

  Again, his penetrating stare bored into me, as if he could see my very soul. Sometimes, I thought he could. But then he would know, so I must have been successful at shielding him from my deepest secrets.

  “Are you in trouble?”

  “No.” I needed him to stop asking questions. “That night, when we were together—”

  His features harden
ed. “It was one night. That’s all it was.”

  I tensed, his words a slap to my already heated face. I was wrong—I was the one with the feelings toward him, not the other way around. “Right. Obviously, I’ve moved on.” I hadn’t, but I did have responsibilities. I let the silence stretch between us until I couldn’t stand it any longer. We had history, and I let myself soften toward him a little. I reached out and ran my finger across the white ridge of a scar that curled over his shoulder and peeked through a tear in his shirt. Memories punched me in the gut. I’d caused that one and so many more. “I’m sorry.” I swallowed back the guilt as I lifted my somber gaze to meet his.

  A wall fell over his face, and I mourned the loss. He’d shut me out from his emotions. I wished I’d been the one to slip past his defenses, but I didn’t think he’d ever truly let anyone in.

  “They’re just scars, Kara. They don’t define or rule me.”

  A tremor raced through me as the images of how he got them flashed through my mind.

  With the pad of his finger, he traced circles along my palm. “It wasn’t your fault.”

  But it was.

  5

  Keegan

  My bag thumped against the wall of the tiny hotel room. Hours before, the threat outside the building Kara and I were taking shelter in had calmed enough for us to go our separate ways. I couldn’t go home with Jack and Hawk and had quickly communicated to them what had happened, that I was okay, and that I would be staying to search for the remaining American. After my check-in, they’d had to leave with the other three hostages, who weren’t in the best of shape. They would be back.

  Kara consumed my thoughts, and my mind traveled back to when we’d first met.