Capitol Danger

by J. D. Tyler

  Kelsey had no business feeling so happy about that. “I thought—I mean, you seemed so easy together.”

  “We are. Growing up in each other’s hip pockets will do that.” He paused, looking directly at her. “Only one woman in that ballroom interested me, and she wasn’t a guest.”

  Kelsey’s heart kicked. A rush of triumph made her light-headed.

  Then sanity returned, wiping away the goofy grin her face had assumed on its own. He was FBI. She was Arachnid, with whom the Bureau generally did not play well.

  “Poor timing, I know.” He shrugged.

  “We don’t really have time for anything personal.” And their jobs meant the odds of anything working out between them truly sucked. “But, uh, thanks.”

  “Sure.” He fished the suppressor and spare mag out of his suitcase and screwed the suppressor onto his Glock’s barrel while he filled her in on what he’d learned during the phone call.

  “I know they said to secure the roof right away,” she told him, “but if we don’t take out the tenth-floor sentries, they’ll be on our rear. I think we should handle them first.”

  “So do I. But we’ll have to hurry.”

  Kelsey watched him stow the new gear in his pockets. He had a clean, strong profile. It went well with his nice hands, big and solid with long fingers, as she’d noticed earlier.

  Those hands would feel so good on her bare skin…but that was never going to happen. Kelsey swallowed a sigh. It was really too bad Feds could only tolerate, at best, the organization she worked for.

  “If we go up the elevator shaft,” he said, his voice relaxed, as though he weren’t rolling his right shoulder, “we avoid the sentries, but they’re still on our six unless we take them out. Somehow, we need to do that without drawing the whole hornet’s nest up there. Even though we both have suppressors now, one of them could get off a shot and give us away.”

  “That’d be disobliging.” She kept her voice dry.

  “Yeah, but they seem like disobliging types. If the security station’s empty, we can use it to check out the roof.”

  Rubbing his chin, he muttered, “We have to take those two guys in the tenth-floor stairwell out and not draw the other ones up there. We probably need to go up the elevator shaft and come at them from the hallway.”

  “I have to admit using the elevator shaft makes me nervous,” Kelsey said. “There’s no rule that says they can’t decide to rush reinforcements to the roof by elevator if they feel threatened. That raises the issue not only of a moving car but of counterweights that weigh a couple of tons.”

  “I’m not crazy about the climb, either.”

  Hesitantly, she asked, “How’s your shoulder? I could work on it for you.” The idea of having her hands on him, stroking him, generated heat low in her belly.

  His eyes kindled, locking with hers and spreading that inconvenient heat. He wrenched his gaze away and broke the moment.

  Gruffly, he said, “Thanks, but we don’t have enough time for that to do much good.”

  Electricity seemed to hang in the air, the awareness definitely mutual this time. As was the temptation, no matter what he’d said. Kelsey grabbed a bottle of water and distracted herself with opening it.

  When she looked up, he was studying her, his gaze assessing instead of hot. That was best for the mission, so she stifled that tiny, irrational pang of disappointment.

  “How fast can you aim and fire—accurately—with the gun starting behind your back?” he asked.

  “Very fast.” This probably wasn’t the time to tell him she’d never shot anyone for real. Or that her stomach was doing a jittery little dance at the thought.

  When the time came, she would have to rely on training. “What do you have in mind?”

  The dangerous glint in his eyes kicked up her pulse as he said, “We might as well make use of this gear I’ve been wearing around all night. Here’s the plan.”

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  The memory of the bank, the shooting, hovered at the edge of Greg’s awareness. He set his jaw and forced it back. This was no time for doubts. Or for half measures, so he had his badge clipped to his belt under the vest.

  They reached the tenth floor without meeting any HTs. Now that Kelsey had put the image of an uprushing elevator in his head, he was glad to step out of the shaft. If this worked, they wouldn’t have to use that route again.

  They headed for the security station first. If it was empty, they could use the cameras to scout the roof. If it wasn’t, the walls should block the sound of a fast, dirty fight from any sentries in the stairwells.

  This time they’d come up a guest elevator shaft, not a service one. The service elevator opened directly opposite the security station.

  They walked quietly to the service door. The auxiliary security station lay on the other side of it. No light showed under the door, so maybe that was good. They checked with the snake scope and found the foyer and the glassed-in office behind it dark. Kelsey punched in the number code, and they walked into the room.

  Greg kept watch while she set down her gear and activated the consoles.

  “Got it,” she said.

  He half turned to look. Above the desk, a bank of six monitor screens showed changing scenes of the ballrooms, kitchen, lobby, and employee locker room.

  He scanned the screens, checking the situation.

  “Nothing seems to have changed,” Kelsey said. “But I can see Fee.”

  As he hurried toward the screens, she pointed to one. “That’s Renaissance.”

  He peered and the black-and-white images. On the dance floor, Fee sat in a knot of women. She looked okay. Scared but okay.

  Yet seeing her that way stabbed ice into Greg’s heart. Everything in him wanted to charge down there and kill those bastards.

  Kelsey caught his hand, squeezing hard, and leaned into him. Her warmth dispelled some of the chill inside him as she continued, “We have to get your SWAT team in here so they can rescue her.”

  He nodded, but the urge to try it himself, rash though he knew that was, welled up in him.

  Quietly, Kelsey said, “Your borrowed clothes would get you into the room, but the odds still suck. There’s no way you take out everybody before they start shooting back.”

  Her hand tightened on his. “You could be killed. She wouldn’t want that, Greg, and neither would I.”

  She’d read him like the proverbial book. When this was over, he really had to find out more about her.

  He managed to tug his mouth into something like a smile and stared into her intense eyes. “I hate to disappoint a lady.”

  “So we’re good?”

  He blew out a hard breath. “Yeah. Can you zoom in on the roof, see what’s waiting for us there?”

  “Give me a sec. The camera’s on the roof of the helipad lobby.” Her fingers flew over the console. “You know, taking time to keep jamming the camera so the guys downstairs don’t see our attack is a dangerous distraction with only two of us to do this.”

  “I agree. We have to hit them fast and hard,” he responded, “and count on our backup to arrive first.”

  She was back to business now, focused on the mission despite offering what comfort she could. At least she’d known better than to make rosy predictions. He liked a realistic approach in a woman.

  Still, a haze of fear circled his brain. His eyes stayed glued to the screen showing the Renaissance ballroom. HTs paced, always staying twenty yards or so apart, and the hostages huddled in the center of the dance floor.

  “Okay.” Kelsey looked over her shoulder at him.

  Together, they studied the rooftop scene with its odd shadows. The stairwell rose from the corner, on the side to the left of this station. In the center of that side stood a glassed-in elevator with a small waiting room. Two big, boxy structures between the stairs and the roof lobby likely held ventilation and electrical equipment.

  Six figures in combat gear paced on the roof, never getting too close together. As pr
edicted, two held RPG launchers.

  “Hmm. The way they’re moving around,” he muttered, “we’re going to have to mostly wing it. We can’t predict where they’ll be.”

  “If we get killed in the stairwell,” she noted in dry tones, “we won’t have to worry about that.”

  “True.” He raised an eyebrow. “But let’s not do that. I’d rather show how badass we are by taking these guys out.”

  “Works for me.”

  “We’re going to have to take the stairs to the roof. Getting the elevator open will take too long and make me a target while I’m doing it.”

  “Agreed. We can use the drill kit to look through the stairwell’s side wall and see where they are. I have enough putty left to plug the hole so the stairwell light doesn’t leak out.” Kelsey frowned at the monitor. “Then we charge through and break right and left.”

  “A simple enough plan, aside from not being able to predict what they’ll do.”

  “Yeah.” She glanced at the monitors. “Fee will be okay, Greg. We’ll go do our job and create a landing zone for the people who’ll free her.”

  “Right. Let’s go.”

  I will see you later, Fee. With one last look at her onscreen image, he turned to the door.

  “Wait.” Kelsey grabbed his arm, studying his face. A flicker of warmth in her eyes stopped the question on his lips. Rising on tiptoe, she pressed her mouth to his.

  The contact jolted him. Blinded him. Her mouth was warm, soft…His free arm shot around her waist, pulling her close.

  For one heartbeat…two…they stood pressed together. Then she pulled back.

  “For luck,” she whispered, the long, slim fingers of her left hand brushing his cheek.

  Now he was sporting wood. Greg swallowed. “Ninja Babe, we are definitely going to talk when this is over.”

  “We’ll debate that name, too.” Despite Kelsey’s nervous expression, she nodded. “That means we both have to come back, G-man.”

  “I call it incentive.” Smiling, he reached around to give her ponytail a quick tug.

  “Then let’s move out,” she said.

  She jammed her Glock into her back waistband. While he kept watch, he followed her preparations in his peripheral vision. She pulled her hair out of its ponytail and tousled it. Then she yanked out one side of her shirt tail under the black jacket. She already had the Glock tucked in the back of her trousers.

  To add to the prisoner look, and also to have a clear path to the gun, she stuffed her jacket into her backpack.

  Despite her pallor, her hands were steady. He took a deep breath and tried to ignore the roiling in his own gut.

  “Do I look harmless?” she asked.

  “Mostly.” Studying her, he suggested, “Unbutton another button.”

  “Why not two?” She slipped them out, so the edge of her lacy, red bra showed at the bottom of the opening.

  Unfortunately, her cleavage also showed. Why the hell did her bra have to be red? He had a thing for red.

  His body stirred again, but he kept his face bland. “That’s good.” The curt tone was unintentional, but he was doing his best not to focus on her breasts. They were just the right size to fill his hands—if he ever got the chance to touch. She hadn’t been exactly receptive.

  Until that kiss.

  Later for worrying about that, though. “I’d prefer to arrest these guys, but I don’t expect I’ll get the chance. I’ll take the one on the right. You’ve got the left.”

  “Then let’s get it done.”

  Kelsey set her pack next to the door. Greg slung the AK over his shoulder and tugged his Glock, with its suppressor, out of his back waistband. Kelsey’s body would hide it from view until he needed it.

  He stood behind her. With a nod at him, she turned to the door.

  * * * * *

  Kelsey took a slow, deep breath. They needed her to sell this, at least for the few seconds that would give them the element of surprise.

  She set her pack beside the stairwell door. With her hand on the knob, she glanced back at Reed. He nodded, and she opened the door.

  When she stepped onto the landing, two men in tactical gear, a potbellied, graying one with an AK-47 and a smaller, dark-haired one with Beretta handgun, wheeled to face her with weapons leveled.

  “Please don’t hurt me,” she squeaked, raising both hands.

  “Easy, brothers,” Reed said behind her. “I’ve got her under control. Don’t I, honey?”

  Kelsey nodded. “Y-yes, sir.”

  “See. I already taught her proper respect. She was a mouthy one, but she does what she’s told now.”

  Mouthy? Respect? G-man, you’re pushing my buttons. But her irritation at what these goons wanted to hear steadied her nerves.

  “I see.” Leering at her, the burly man relaxed his stance. Her skin crawled as he added, “I wouldn’t mind some of that—”

  His gaze dropped to Reed’s feet. And his non-regulation shoes.

  The guy’s gun came to bear on the G-man.

  Adrenaline roaring in her veins slowed time.

  Reaching for the Glock in her waistband, Kelsey broke left. Reed shifted right, his suppressed Glock pointing at his target.

  She fired less than a second after he did, the suppressor-generated clicks of their two-shot bursts mingling.

  Her target, the potbellied guy, spun and toppled down the stairs. The smaller, dark-haired man fell against the wall and slid halfway down to the landing.

  Kelsey’s stomach heaved. Damn it, she would not be sick. Not now.

  Reed cast a concerned glance at her but said nothing, maybe because she was keeping her Glock steady and aimed at her guy.

  He kicked the two men’s guns clear and checked for pulses. “Both dead.”

  Kelsey picked up the AK the guy on the landing had held. Steeling herself, she went through his vest and found two extra magazines.

  She thumbed the selector to the safety position, checked the chamber, which held a round, and flipped the switch all the way down for semi-auto. The familiar routine helped steady her.

  Reed smiled at her.

  “What?” she demanded.

  “Not many people in law enforcement handle an AK enough to know that semi-auto is all the way down. It seems like it should be the next position after the safety.”

  “So I’d be busted at this point?”

  He shrugged. “It’s just as well you already are.” The teasing light faded from his eyes, and he added, “We need to take one of their vests for you, too. With what we’re up against on the roof, you’d be crazy to go without it. The smaller guy’s will be a little big, but it’s better than nothing.”

  Her unhappy stomach clenched. Kelsey had to swallow against a new surge of nausea. But he was right.

  “Yeah,” she said. The word rasped. She swallowed again. “Okay.”

  “Keep watch, and I’ll get it off.”

  Again, she nodded. “I’ll just, uh, let you. While I stand here and quietly cluck like the chicken I am. Thanks.”

  “Hey, nothing wrong with not liking the smell of blood. This won’t take long.”

  He was right. Removing the vest was a bloody, undoubtedly unpleasant job, but he managed it quickly.

  “Kelsey, you look a little pale. Are you okay?”

  “Uh-huh.” Because she damn well had to be. “Gimme that.”

  Reed squeezed her shoulder, the contact zinging through her, and said, “You did great. We’ll call this a nice warmup.”

  Before they charged into the hell on the rooftop, he meant.

  “Yeah. Us one, them zip.” She patted his hand and stepped clear. “We got lucky. I really thought one of them would get off a shot.”

  “Me, too, but they froze. For just an instant, their brains didn’t compute. That was all we needed.”

  “Wannabes,” she said. “Probably why they were up here away from all the action.”

  He stood watch while she shrugged into the bloody vest. The coppery
smell of blood had her stomach churning again, but she would deal. This vest might keep her from having to smell her own blood.

  “I’m set,” she announced.

  He nodded. “Good. Let’s get this done.”

  * * * * *

  At the top of the roof stairs, Greg glanced at his partner. Some of the color had come back into her face. Ninja Babe was resurfacing. Good.

  She drilled through the wall to get a peek at the outside. The icy wind outside should mask the drill’s slight noise. It also made the stairwell chilly.

  Using the snake scope would give them only a very narrow view unless they risked having it protrude from under the door. They would do a fast, straight-ahead scan with it before they headed out.

  Meanwhile, he had nothing to do but worry about Fee. She was smart. Level-headed, as demonstrated when the restaurant where she waited tables in college caught fire.

  She’d be okay.

  Please let her be okay.

  A muffled boom came from somewhere far below. The building shook. Automatically, he grabbed Kelsey’s arm to steady her. At the same time, she caught his arm with her other hand.

  “What the hell?” she said.

  “Something blew.”

  They looked at each other. Should they act on that?

  Greg shook his head. “We have orders to clear this roof. Whatever that was, we can’t do anything about it.”

  “Agreed.” She grabbed the drill that’d fallen out of the hole and started over.

  Strangely, the idea of going through the door first didn’t bother him all that much this time. Maybe that was because the alternative was to have Kelsey do it, and that was a big, fat Hell, no idea.

  And where had that come from?

  He frowned at her back. So he was feeling protective. So what? He liked her. More than a little. And if that helped him settle the post-injury nerves, then it was great. No matter how things worked out or didn’t between him and her.

  On the radio, Red Mantle guys screamed about explosions and escape. Greg grinned. Somebody had kicked righteous ass.

  The radio at his belt crackled. “We have a missing guest,” a man’s voice said. “And a waitress. We know you have Brother Kinley’s radio. You have ten minutes to surrender to the nearest sentries. If you don’t, someone in the Renaissance ballroom is going to die.”