MERCILESS: An Option Zero Novel

by Christy Reece

  Running footsteps moved toward her. When he rounded the corner, Jules knew a moment of regret. He looked like he was barely out of his teens and likely had something to prove, too. It couldn’t be helped. Pushing emotions to the back where they belonged, she concentrated on the matter at hand. What the young man lacked in years, he more than made up for in bulk. A surprise attack would be her best bet.

  She waited until he passed her and then was on him in an instant. Going in low, she took him down from the back, at his knees, hitting hard. He fell forward, and they both grunted. The kid was at least two hundred fifty pounds, most of it solid muscle. Giving him no time to react, Jules wrapped her arms around the soldier’s thick neck. She squeezed with just the right amount of pressure. Doing what was normal, the kid grabbed her arm to try to dislodge her. When that didn’t work, he went to his feet with her still hanging on to his back. Even though her feet were about a foot above the ground, Jules held tight. He tried to swing her around, and still she held, still squeezing. With one last attempt to get her off his back, the kid threw himself backward and slammed her against the brick wall.

  She grunted at the explosion of pain but managed to keep the pressure on his windpipe. The young man dropped to his knees and at last lost consciousness.

  Rolling off him, Jules looked up into Jazz’s grinning face. “You looked like a flea crawling all over a rhino, but damn if you didn’t get the job done.”

  Breathless, Jules made the effort to give her a thumbs-up. Jazz produced a zip tie and took care of the man’s hands and feet, along with putting tape over his mouth. Between the two of them, they managed to hide him behind a bush. The deed was done in a matter of minutes, and they finished up just in time to hear Ash say, “Okay, let’s get this done.”

  Chapter Fourteen

  Eve Wells took another surreptitious glance at her watch, a gift from Darius Vasile. She missed her OZ-issued watch, which performed multiple functions. This flashy bauble only told the time, but the glittery, overdone style fit her gold-digger persona to a T.

  Only a few more moments, and her team would strike. This assignment should end today and, in her estimation, couldn’t be over soon enough. Five months as Kimberly Lowe—Kimmie to her friends—had been more than enough. Acting as if she hadn’t a thought in her head other than looking pretty was more than even a seasoned spy like herself should have to endure.

  Crossing one long, silky leg over the other, she added a soft, exaggerated sigh with the movement, drawing both male and female attention. While the women glared daggers, the men eyed her with the type of hunger that would have made Eve Wells go after them with a biting comment or the closest weapon. As Kimmie, the beautiful, useless bimbo, she gave the languid smile of a hungry cat on the prowl.

  After all, a girl had to have her fun.

  The drawing room, though enormous, was one of the loveliest rooms in the house. Its six sofas, five chairs, numerous occasional tables, and baby grand piano in the corner spoke of taste, decadence, and extreme wealth. She had been a guest in this house many times and had visited every room in the compound at least once. Darius loved showing off the home he intended to own someday. He had explained that his brother-in-law, Andrei Dalca, was twenty years older and smoked like a chimney in winter. Since Andrei had no children or siblings, Darius firmly believed he would inherit everything. Because of Andrei’s unhealthy lifestyle, Darius anticipated gaining that wealth sooner rather than later.

  She knew the OZ team was already here, and since no alarms had been raised, everything was going according to plan. The dinner had been lavish and decadent. The wine had been flowing, and the laughter had gotten louder. Ash had said he wanted everyone relaxed and mellow, assured of their invincibility. These people looked about as relaxed as they were going to get.

  To counteract the boredom of the aimless discussion going on around her, Eve mentally reviewed the details of the op. The last communication she’d received from her boss was a coded message this morning via text. Anyone who happened to see it would have assumed it was a spam message, but she’d learned OZ codes and way of messaging the first month she’d been on the job. And since the messages were often disguised as advertisements for a gross or unpleasant product or procedure, she’d also learned her boss, Asher Drake, had a screwy sense of humor. One of the many reasons she liked the man.

  This morning’s message had been short, to the point, and descriptively unpleasant. Eve was glad she’d been alone when she’d read it, as she had broken out into a fit of giggles.

  Kool-Eaze is a Breeze! Are you in hemorrhoid hell? Are they grouped together? Painful and sore? Itching? Help is on the way! Try our soothing balm today and feel amazing, glorious relief by evening. In eight to nine hours, they’ll be completely gone! Our soothing ointment will make the burn disappear and the swelling vanish! Order within the next eight hours and get another tube for free! Loved ones will thank you for it!

  Translation: Group everyone into one room. The op would go down between eight and nine o’clock this evening. And her OZ team members were looking forward to seeing her again.

  The plan was a simple one, which was the norm for OZ, as simplicity usually had the best chance for success. Putting too many complications into a mission was a good way to ensure the operation went sour.

  Her one assignment tonight was ensuring everyone stayed in this room. Once Dalca’s guards were neutralized, unable to communicate the threat, the OZ team would appear. Having everyone together would ensure the safety of her team, as well as Dalca and his people.

  She glanced around the room, taking in the evening’s guest. Dalca, of course, held center stage. A tall man with a slender build and dark eyes, his expression was one of arrogant authority. There was, though, a small gleam in his eyes that was worrisome. Dalca didn’t get excited about much, but for some reason he seemed uncharacteristically pleased tonight. What was that about?

  Her gaze moved to the other occupants. Dalca’s wife sat beside him, but Eve noticed she wasn’t touching him. Even without knowing their background, it was obvious the woman disliked her husband immensely. Portia Dalca was a year older than her husband and looked ten times that. Being married to a controlling bastard couldn’t be easy. Eve might have felt sorry for her if not for the pesky fact that the woman ran part of her husband’s business. In Eve’s opinion, Portia and Andrei were made for each other.

  The guests included Daniel Balan, Dalca’s attorney, and Maria, his wife. The others were an odd assortment of Dalca’s relatives and the guest of honor, Henri Burman and his wife, Greta. Eve suspected Henri was the reason Dalca looked so pleased with himself. As Burman was a wealthy financier from Germany, it stood to reason that he and Dalca had likely made a lucrative deal of some sort.

  The plan was for Eve to be taken away along with the other guests. Until they knew the charges would stick, she wouldn’t break her cover. Though it wasn’t ideal, she had worked too hard to risk walking away too soon. It had been her suggestion to stay undercover until everyone was satisfied that Dalca would be convicted. Ash had agreed with her assessment.

  Gideon would no doubt have a different opinion.

  The thought of Gideon Wright made her want to smile. It had been five months since she’d seen her friend. Even though they often communicated via text using OZ code, it wasn’t the same as talking with him or seeing him. Gideon Wright had been her best friend for years, long before she’d joined the OZ team. Eve missed his sharp wit and dry sense of humor. Once he learned she might have to maintain her cover for a while longer, she figured she’d get an earful. That was okay. She knew how to give it right back to him. That’s what made their friendship work.

  “Darling.” The heavily accented voice sounded behind her.

  Putting on a sultry smile, she turned to the handsome man leaning over her. Darius Vasile was probably the easiest mark she’d ever targeted. She had met him, interestingly enough, through an online dating site. Though Darius cultivated a reputation tha
t he was a player, she had done a thorough investigation and learned that despite his looks and money, he had difficulty keeping a girlfriend for more than a couple of months. He’d turned to online dating for assistance, and she had been there to swoop him up. It hadn’t taken her long to figure out why he couldn’t maintain a romantic relationship. The man was the neediest, most annoying human being she’d ever met.

  “I’m bored.”

  Sounding like a whiny adolescent was one of Darius’s least-admirable qualities.

  She giggled softly, as he would expect. “Then come sit by me so I can entertain you.”

  Needing no further encouragement, Darius settled onto the arm of her chair and nuzzled her neck. Covering her shudder of revulsion with another giggle, she reminded herself this was the job. She closed the door on Eve Wells and turned into his arms, becoming Kimmie once more.

  “That’s odd,” Burman said. “My phone has no signal.”

  Trying not to stiffen, Eve looked over Darius’s shoulder. Burman had a frown on his face as he held up his phone. A small triumphant zing went through her. The action was about to begin.

  “Perhaps I can get a signal in another part of the house,” Burman said. “I need to make a call.”

  Eve pulled herself from Darius’s clinging arms. To ensure everyone’s safety, no one could leave this room. She opened her mouth to grab everyone’s attention, but before she could say anything, Greta Burman gave an exasperated snort of disgust. “The only reason you want to use the phone is to call your mistress.”

  Everyone, including Eve, fell into a stunned silence. Though Greta had been drinking steadily all night, she had spoken barely two words. Apparently, the alcohol, along with anger at her husband, had given her extra courage.

  Eve kept her mouth closed and let the scene play out. The reason for staying in this room didn’t matter…it just needed to happen.

  Greta stood and began to pace around the sofa, where her shocked husband continued to sit. “I have given you twenty years of my life, two beautiful children, and put up with your obnoxious family, and you repay me by sleeping with your harlot!”

  “Greta!” Henri whispered harshly. “This is neither the time nor the place. Stop it right this minute. I’ll—”

  “You’ll what?” She reached for her small evening bag on the sofa and pulled out a Ruger .38 Special. “Teach me a lesson?”

  Eve swallowed a groan. Of all the times for Greta to assert herself. While she could applaud the woman’s show of independence and fortitude, doing so with a gun in her hand and too much alcohol in her blood was not the best way.

  Ash and Gideon would be here any moment. The last thing they needed when they barged through the doors was to find a drunken, unstable woman brandishing a gun.

  Disarming Greta while still acting as if she didn’t have a brain in her head would be tricky, but Eve had no choice. She had to get that gun out of the way.

  Jumping to her feet, Eve cried out in a shrill voice, “What is she doing? Oh, Darius, she has a gun! Get it before she shoots me.”

  Darius whirled around to gape at her. “What?”

  Eve’s voice went even shriller. “She’s going to shoot me!”

  Everyone, including Greta, was looking at her as if she’d dropped in from outer space. With all eyes on the witless Kimmie, Eve took advantage. Running for the door as if in a panic, she stumbled and fell on top of Greta, knocking into the woman so hard the gun flew out of her hand, sliding across the hardwood floor and under one of the sofas.

  Barely a second later, the door busted open. Asher Drake and Gideon Wright stood there, holding guns.

  Eve cursed under her breath. Perfect timing, as always.

  Ash had been surprised many times in his life. To see the elegant and capable Eve Wells sprawled on top of another woman, while others stood around them gaping, was surprising indeed. He’d told her to create a distraction if necessary. Apparently, she had.

  “Hands up, everyone.”

  Dalca abruptly came out of his shocked trance and sprang to his feet. “What is the meaning of this? Who are you people? What are you doing in my home?”

  “We’re here for you, Dalca. No one needs to get hurt.”

  “This is outrageous. Get out of my house immediately before I call the authorities.”

  “The authorities are not your friends today, Dalca. Make it easy on yourself and everyone else and give up.”

  Dalca glanced over at the man to his left and then returned his gaze to Ash. “May I confer with my attorney?”

  “You can confer all you want when we get you to a secure facility. For now, keep your hands where we can see them.” He nodded at the women still on the floor. “You two, get up and go stand over there.”

  “There’s a—”

  Eve’s words were cut off when Dalca dived for something on the floor and came up with a gun. Grabbing the woman standing beside him, he pulled her in front of him and held the gun to her head.

  Ah, hell. Tapping his earwig once, Ash spoke softly, “Plan B.”

  Holding his gun steady, Ash advanced toward Dalca. “You don’t want to do this, Dalca. It won’t have a good ending.”

  “If I put the gun down and surrender, it won’t have a good ending either.”

  Ash took another step closer. “Perhaps, but at least you’d be alive.”

  “Don’t come any closer, or I’ll shoot her.”

  “Shooting your attorney’s wife might put a crimp in your relationship.”

  Finally coming out of his shock, Balan snapped, “Andrei, unhand my wife immediately.”

  In response, Dalca pulled the woman even closer to him, blocking Ash’s chance for a clean shot. “Attorneys are easy to find.”

  “Adding murder to the list of your charges will not help your cause.”

  “You won’t let me kill her.”

  Ash cocked his head. “I won’t?”

  “No. You’re going to get me safely out of here. I’ll release her when I’m safe.”

  “I think you’ve been watching too much television. That’s not how I operate.”

  “I know your kind. You will do whatever you have to do to prevent bloodshed.”

  “I don’t think you’ve ever come across my kind before.”

  “Maybe not.” Swinging the gun away from the woman he was holding, he fired, hitting Gideon.

  Eve screamed and ran toward the fallen operative. A second later, five more operatives burst into the room, all their weapons aimed at Dalca.

  Well, this had gone to hell in a hurry. Without taking his eyes off the idiot in front of him, he growled at Xavier, “Take care of Gideon.”

  “Kimmie,” Darius snapped, “come away from that man.”

  Holding her hands over Gideon’s injury, her eyes wild with grief, Eve snapped, “Shut up, Darius.”

  “It’s bad, Ash,” Xavier said. “We need to get him out of here.”

  Without being told, Jules eased past Ash and circled behind Dalca. So focused on Ash, Dalca never noticed her until she had her gun pressed against the back of his head.

  Her eyes on Ash, Jules spoke with soft menace into Dalca’s ear, “I’m the newest member of this team and have a lot to prove. Killing you would only help me.”

  “That would be murder,” Dalca snarled. “You can’t do that.”

  Ash gave a mean grin. “You just shot one of my best men. You think getting rid of a weasel like you would bother us?”

  “You can’t just—”

  “We can and we will.”

  Jules pressed the gun harder against Dalca’s head. “Want me to shoot him here, boss?”

  “Yeah. That oughta do it.”

  “Wait! Wait!” Dalca screamed. “I give up.”

  “Take his gun, Stone. If he even twitches, shoot him.”

  Jules took the gun from the man’s hand and within seconds had him lying on the floor and zip-tied.

  Ash glanced around. The rest of Dalca’s guests were huddled in a corne
r.

  “Sean, you and Serena gather everyone in the van. Xavier, you and Eve take care of Gideon.”

  Eve looked up at Ash. “But I—”

  “I think your cover is blown.”

  She shook her head, misery in her eyes. “I’m so sorry, Ash.”

  “We’ll sort it all out. Just take care of him.”

  And they would have to sort it all out. What had been going as smooth as ice had turned into a shitstorm. And if they lost Gideon? Hell, he wasn’t sure the team could survive another loss. The last one had almost destroyed them.

  Chapter Fifteen

  They were headed back to the States hours later before Jules got the chance to talk with Ash. He had removed himself from the group, spending much of his time on his phone. For anyone else, it might look as though he were coldly removed from the drama around them, but Jules knew that wasn’t the case. He was focused on what needed to be done, but his eyes told another story. He was concerned for his injured operative and quietly furious at how the op had gone down.

  Gideon had been in surgery when they’d left the hospital in Timisoara. Eve had promised to call the moment he was out. If there was anyone who felt worse than Ash about how the op had gone down, it was Eve Wells. Jules didn’t know the woman at all, but she easily recognized the signs of grief and massive guilt. She was well versed in both those emotions.

  Sitting in one of the seats in the back of the plane, Jules got an uninterrupted view of Ash talking in a low tone with Xavier Quinn, who was on one of the sofas at the front. She couldn’t hear what the two men were saying, but judging by their grim expressions, it wasn’t pleasant.

  Several moments later, Ash walked down the aisle toward her. With a heavy sigh, he dropped down into the seat across from her. “Eve called. Gideon’s out of surgery. He lost a lot of blood, but thankfully the bullet missed his femoral artery. They repaired the damage, but it’s going to be a few months before he’s fully operational again.”