As she clutched the other hand over her chest and regained her bearings, she remembered she had an earpiece in. And that the hand she just slammed against herself held the wax thumbprint. “Fuck,” she gasped.
“Fox, this is Hound, come in. Are you all right? What's your position?”
“Don't do that. I'm standing alone, in a pitch black room, and you're whispering in my ear. It's fucking creepy.” The lie bit her tongue. It was more along the lines of sexy, and her vadge instantly seized in a series of kegals. She had to get a grip.
His low chuckle sent another tense twitch through her body. Like the frequency of his voice was resonant just for her, the perfect pitch. She sucked in a deep breath, and then another to clear her thoughts, remembering she still had a job to do.
“Are you breathing heavy? What the hell are you doing, Fox? Tell me you're not having sex with Bahri.”
“Okay, now you're just being a douche-canoe.” At least that took his sexy down a notch, and he straddled the line of asshole once more. The more he agitated her, the more she could focus on her work.
“What's your ETA? I'm already at the rendezvous point.”
“Well, aren't you guys fast. I'm about to grab the papers and”—the scanner on the other side of the door clicked, interrupting her thought—“Oh, shit.”
“What? Fox? Talk to me.”
Jayla turned off the flashlight, grabbed her clutch, and crouched behind the desk. But the minute she did, her stomach revolted and the room spun around her. She forced her wobbly legs back to a stance. As she gripped the edge of the desk for balance, her legs gave out and she threw her body across the top of it. The fucking poison hit. Fabulous timing.
“Fox, talk to me. What the hell is going on?” Hound's once sexy voice now irritated her ear drums, as if there was a hiss pricking her with every syllable. Or maybe that was just her own chest seizing with each breath pulled into her lungs.
“Just poison. I'll be fine. Or dead. Probably fifteen minutes tops.” She sucked in a gasp of air. “Maybe ten.”
The door creaked opened and a suit walked in. She prayed it was just one of Bahri's henchmen. “I thought I might find you in here, Ms. Omarov. But, now, we both know that's not really your name.” Bahri flicked on the lights.
Because, of course. Jayla rolled her head and glared at him. Someone double-crossed her, and she needed to find out who. “Why don't you tell me who I am if you're in the know. Right now your poison is working through my system, so I even forgot who I am at the moment.”
“Fox, tell me your location, I'm coming in to extract you,” Hound all but yelled in her ear so loud she prayed Bahri couldn't hear it.
“Now's not a really good time,” she muttered, forcing the words to stumble over her numbing lips.
“Not a good time for what, Ms. McFadden?” Bahri crouched next to the desk and brushed a lock of hair from Jayla's eyes. “Or can we skip the formalities, and I just call you Jayla?” The waves of nausea already pitching and rolling in her stomach roared at the sound of her real name coming out of his mouth.
“Who the fuck is that? Is your cover blown?” Hound's frantic voice sounded muted by the wind in the background. He must be running. Was he really coming to rescue her? Shit. She'd never live this one down now. She had to get her ass up and get out of there. The last thing she needed was to fail on this mission and have to be rescued. Let alone by Hound of all people.
“Now, I wonder why you felt the need to hide in my office, Jayla. Were you trying to steal something?” Bahri pushed himself back to a stance.
“Office. Got it. I'm on my way.” Hound's voice disappeared.
And so did the last of her dignity. She lay sprawled out on Bahri's desk like a drunk frat girl.
Jayla, get your ass up. Finish your mission.
If she could only reach her clutch. She should have shot herself with the naloxone when she first suspected the poison in the glass. But until she could be sure it was opioid poisoning of some sort, she didn't want to risk cardiac arrest. Dammit, why couldn't they stick to slipping people Mickies like the old days.
Pulling every ounce of strength left in her, she wiggled her fingertips and tried to reach for the clutch. But her grip slipped and sent it flying over the edge of the desk to the floor.
Well, option one failed.
Bahri bent down, staring into her eyes. “They told me to dispose of you. But you're a fighter. I like a woman with some sass. I'll make you go with a smile on your face.” Stale cigar breath and something a little like curry wafted from his mouth. As if her stomach wasn't already doing the rumba. She curled her fingers around something on his desk. She didn't have a clue what it was and didn't care, but used every ounce of energy in her body to smash it against his head.
Bahri fell and slammed the back of his head against an arm chair along the wall. Jayla rolled her body off the desk and crumpled in a heap on the floor. Air choked in her throat, and she slammed her hand down, desperate to find her clutch with the syringe.
She hated Bahri. She hated the CIA. Right then, more than anything else she hated herself, because she broke down and prayed Hound would crash through that door and save her.
Chapter Six
Noah slapped away the large palm fronds blocking his path. Adrenaline fed his muscles as he kicked up speed, forgetting the need to breathe. Forgetting to check the surroundings, or the path in front of him. His heart skidded in his chest at the sound of Jayla's choking gasp. It mirrored the sound his mother made as she took her last breath in his arms, in the middle of a fucking liquor store parking lot. He wouldn't let someone else die on his watch.
As he reached the outer perimeter of the mansion, he unholstered his gun, pointing it in front of him as he searched the area. Two guns stood watch at the front on the lofty porch. Three were perched on the roof. And a couple of pony boys stalked the dock out back. He wished Shadow was with him to snipe the bastards. Instead, Hound had to rely on his SIG, SOG knife, and muscles to get the job done.
He screwed in his silencer, took aim, and nailed the two lackeys in front. Taking two steps at a time, he flew up the staircase before running through the hallways looking for the office.
He pressed a hand to his earpiece. “Fox, stay with me. I'm almost there.”
She replied with only a soft whimper. Shit.
Three men in suits charged at him from the other end of the hallway, guns drawn. He fired off two shots, nailing each guy on the ends, but the one in the middle fired off a round before Noah could get his third one out. Hound dove for the floor. His hands hit the cold marble as he landed. Tucking himself into a ball, he rolled up on his knees and launched a bullet between the thug's eyes. He scrambled to his feet and dashed the length of the hall, finally finding a staircase at the end.
Two more suits ran down the elaborate winding staircase. Noah holstered his gun and pulled out his knives. Gripping tight to them, he leaned in, hunched his shoulders like a linebacker and charged hard up the stairs, slicing through the abdomens of the guys as he passed. They knocked down like bowling pins.
Noah took a step, but a hand tightened around his boot, pulling him down with them.
Fuck.
Noah's legs jerked out from under him and his chin kissed the stairs, splitting it open. Blood dripped onto his hands as he gripped a hold of one of the steps. He drop kicked his boot into the face of the assailant under him, launching him to the bottom of the stairs. Noah stumbled to an upright position, wiping away the blood from his split chin and dashed to the top.
He shot up one more flight of stairs, stepping over a body already on the floor. That had to have been Jayla’s handiwork. A smile teetered on his lips before panic kicked him in the gut. He darted down the hall, skidding to a stop at the open office door.
Jayla's lifeless body lay in a heap on the floor, right next to Bahri's.
“Fox,” Noah said, dropping to his knees. He pulled her body against him and cradled her head in the crook of his arm.
“What?” Noah shook his head. “I don't understand.”
She stirred in his arms, her fingers twitching as she tried to reach for something. Tremors riddled her body as if she used every ounce of strength.
“Shit, I don't know what to do. Fox … Jayla … please,” he pleaded.
The tips of her fingers brushed the edge of something laying on the floor. Noah grabbed it and handed it to her. “You need this?”
“Sh … ot,” she gasped, letting the clutch fall through her fingers.
“Shot? There's something in here?” Noah eased her to the floor and grabbed the clutch, rifling through it until he found a syringe. That had to be it. “Where does it go?”
“In … me,” she wheezed.
That didn't help much. He'd never administered a shot before. He hoped to hell he did it right as he pricked her arm and pressed the plunger down. Breath hitched in the back of his throat as he watched and waited.
Jayla's body slacked in his arms and his heart stopped. His blood ran cold, chilling him to the bone as he stared at her chest, praying for it to inhale a breath. Pressing two fingers to her neck, he checked for a pulse, finding a slow, intermittent thump. But fear still gripped his heart. He cupped the sides of her face, running a thumb along her cheek. He relished the sensation of her skin so soft, and thankfully still warm. If she made it through this, he promised to forgive her for knocking him off the aircraft carrier and making him look like an ass.
Though, it was his own damned fault. He caught one sight of her in that stunning white dress and the air whooshed from his lungs. He'd never seen anyone so beautiful in his life. Desire had fired through his blood, like a spark of life, of need, and it caught him so off guard he got dizzy and fell, right off the fucking edge of the carrier. Luckily the net had been below. He'd never been more embarrassed in his life and had to fucking deal with the shit from his team the entire ride to the bunker.
“Hound, what's your ETA, copy?” Steel's voice rang out in his earpiece.
“Shit's FUBAR. I think we lost Fox.” The words burned his tongue like acid. How did things go so wrong?
“We've got outer bands hitting from the hurricane. Find your exit strategy. You need out ASAP.”
“Roger that. Working on it. Meet you at the pickup. Hound out.”
CPR. She needed CPR.
He laid her head to the floor, tilting it up. Leaning forward, he pressed his mouth to hers and the incident at the BBQ flashed before him. The taste of her, the feel of her tongue on his, the softness of her lips.
As he released a breath into her mouth, she sat up and pushed him off her. “Are you trying to make out with me while I'm unconscious? Seriously?”
Hound fell back on his ass with his eyes wide open. “CPR,” he managed to mumble out in astonishment.
“You don't slip a girl the tongue while doing CPR.” She rolled to her knees, coughing as she sucked in a wheezing breath. Slapping a hand on the desk, she heaved herself up from the floor.
“I did not slip you the tongue.” He replayed the moment in his mind and prayed to God he didn't actually do it.
“Keep telling yourself that.” Jayla walked along the desk, gripping the edge of it for balance.
“Take it easy there, champ. You almost died. How the hell are you up and walking around?” Noah shot up and spotted her, sliding a hand along her waist to steady her wobbling limbs.
“Naloxone works pretty quick to block the opioid toxins. But just in case it wears off before the opioid does, there's another syringe in my clutch. Dose me again if I should knock on death's door. Here, help me get Bahri to the safe.”
“What for?” Noah arched a brow, watching the one-hundred-pound woman attempt to drag the two-hundred pound man across the floor.
“I need his thumbprint to open the safe. Stop asking questions. We need to get out of here before any more of his goons show up wondering where the hell he went.” Her shoulders slumped as she took a break and sat on the desk, catching her breath.
“Fine. We've got storms moving in from the hurricane. Our route out may be dicey back to the carrier. We need to move fast.” Noah hoisted Bahri on his shoulders and Jayla grabbed his arm, pressing his thumb to the reader. The safe door clicked green and opened. Noah released the body and he slunk back down like a melting scoop of ice cream. “What did you do to him?”
“He was planning on raping me. So I knocked his ass out with a stapler I think. Not entirely sure what I grabbed, I was kind of out of it, you know … dying. You might want to make sure he still has a pulse. We're supposed to leave him alive.”
Noah let out a sigh and pressed his fingers to Bahri's neck. A weak thump beat against his fingertips. “Fucker's still kicking. But he'll have a nasty head wound. Looks like you got him good.”
“A little present to remember me by.” Jayla reached in the safe and grabbed hold of the only thing inside—a jump drive. She retrieved her clutch from the floor, readjusted her dress, and grabbed her heels. “Let's go.”
Noah's gaze locked onto her ass as she marched out the door. The long, white skirt sashayed along her legs. Sun-kissed skin peeked out between the top of the skirt and the bottom of her jeweled top, the perfect width of his hand to slide along her waist. Her black and pink hair hung low down her back in waves.
She was so tiny without heels or her usual Doc Martens on. He towered over her small frame. She was like a little doll. They were such complete and total opposites, yet the pull to her, the draw he felt whenever he was around her, he couldn't deny it anymore.
“Are you just going to stare at my ass all day? Come on, Hound Dog. Let's blow this place!” She took off into a run down the hall.
Noah shook his head with a smile and jogged after her. But his laughter was short-lived as Jayla's scream pierced his ears. He picked up speed and turned the corner to find some stout, bald-headed man holding Jayla in a headlock and a gun kissing her temple.
“Where's Bahri, bitch?” the thug asked.
“Napping,” Jayla said, thrusting her elbow into the guy's gut. He hitched back enough she twisted in his arms and shoved him to the ground.
Noah grabbed Jayla's hand and they burst through the rooftop doors. “If we can get to the chopper, I can fly us out of here.”
They ran to the edge of the platform. But a gun clicked against the back of his head, halting his last step. Noah threw his arms up as a large hand gripped the back of his collar and whipped him against the safety railing on the edge of the roof.
“You just cost me two million dollars, asshole. Once my boss finds out, he'll take it out in my life. So I'm gonna take yours.”
Noah locked gazes with the man holding a Beretta flush to his temple. First rule of engagement, know your opponent's weakness. Fear and anger blazed in the stranger's eyes. He could use that against him. Distract him long enough to disarm him.
Something flashed in the corner of Noah's eye, and he broke his concentration on the man. A blur of white came out of nowhere and rushed the asshole, lunging at him like a crouching tiger.
Fox.
The blur whizzed by him and everything after seemed like slow motion. A loud bang. Screams. Arms and legs flailing.
“Fox!” Noah cried out as she tackled the man to the ground.
Blood painted the rooftop a dark crimson, pooling around the stout man's body with a hole the size of Texas in his abdomen. But Fox was nowhere to be found. As the two tussled to the ground, the safety railing busted at the joint, sending Fox over the edge.
The split second of time seemed like an eternity as the realization hit. Noah ripped off his climbing gear on the back of his BDU and hooked it to the other end of the railing, and dove after her.
Wind rushed his face. It brought back the memories of his first HALO jumps. Adrenaline pumped through him, skidding his heart through his chest as he caught sight of her. Noah streamlined his body, angling it just enough to adjust for the
wind picking up. Just a fingertip's reach away.
The line jerked to a stop just as he gripped hold of her ankle with both hands. A gust of wind swung them like a pendulum in the breeze as they hung upside down.
“I got you. Fox, you okay?” The words choked in his throat as he adjusted his grip on her leg.
“Just peachy.” She covered her face with her hands.
“Yeah, best not to look down. Give me your other leg to grab onto.”
She kicked her foot up and he locked his arm around her calves, hoisting her closer to his chest. A smile pulled at the corner of his lips as she fought in earnest with her long skirt now flipped upside down.
“Can you swing yourself up and see if you can grab hold of my vest? If we can get you turned around I can lower you down to the rocks.”
“Okay, but I apologize in advance if I hurl.”
A bubble of laughter popped from his throat. “I've been through worse, I assure you. Ready?”
Jayla curled her body upward and fell back, swinging them faster in the breeze. “Shit. This is harder than it looks. It would be much easier if my skirt wasn't hanging in my face. I don't even want to think about what you can see from your angle.”
“I promise, I'm being a complete gentleman.” He chuckled as he adjusted his grip on her legs. “I've still got you. But the wind is picking up. Swing if you need to. Launch yourself up and grab hold of the straps on my shoulder.” With slow strokes, he brushed his thumb along her calf in an attempt to reassure her. “I promise I won't let go.”
“Okay. Trying again.” She leaned back and thrust herself up, grabbing him by the shoulder strap with one hand, her other hand barely missing it.
Noah released his grasp on one of her legs and caught her by the hand, securing her grip to his vest. “Gotcha.”
“Dude, you promised you wouldn't let go. So not cool.”
Those stunning blue eyes of hers locked onto his, sending a flicker of adrenaline through his heart. He stared at her; him hanging upside down and her now right side up, inches from his lips. The thought of pulling the spider-man kiss crossed his mind, but she might smack him again, forgetting that they were now dangling off the side of a mansion about to crash into a layer of rocks and the Pacific Ocean.
Special Forces: Operation Alpha: The Fox and The Hound (Kindle Worlds Novella) (Breaking the SEAL Book 1) Page 5
