HOT Addiction: A Hostile Operations Team Novel - Book 10

by Lynn Raye Harris

  He hugged her hard. He should let her go, but once he had her in his arms, it was nearly impossible to push her away. In spite of himself, his dick started to make its intentions clear. Annabelle’s breathing changed and he knew she’d felt it too.

  The baser part of him wanted to say to hell with it. He could strip her and fuck her until they both passed out from exhaustion. But where did that leave them?

  Same damn place, same tangled-up emotions. He set her away from him and took out his secure cell phone. Iceman answered on the second ring.

  “How’s your hubby?” he asked, and Ice snorted.

  “Enjoying this way too much, actually.”

  Dex wanted to laugh. Flash was a joker and Ice was typically as serious as a heart attack. Flash would push the whole couple thing as far as he could just for giggles.

  “You aren’t worried, are you?”

  “No. Why would I be? Gay isn’t contagious. Besides, I’m secure in my manhood. But you know Flash—he likes to push the envelope. I’ll spank him later and he’ll quiet down.”

  Dex almost choked. Ice wasn’t a joker, but when he zinged you, it was usually with a deadpan delivery. “Oh hell, I’d pay to see that.”

  “Spank me, motherfucker, and I’ll divorce your ass,” Flash yelled in the background.

  Dex shook his head. They made him laugh, and that was a good thing right now. “Any info on the surroundings yet?”

  “Vic and Brandy are scouting.”

  “Do we have a pinpoint on the target?”

  “Nope. We know the vicinity from the cell tower he’s pinging, but not the exact location. He’s not using the same phone to call Annabelle that he uses for his business. He’s been shutting it down.”

  “So he’s onto us.”

  “Maybe. Or maybe he’s just paranoid.”

  “No, this guy is smart.”

  “But not so smart he was able to stop Archer from transferring that money.”

  “What do you mean?”

  Dex had been thinking about it for a while. “Do you really think Lyon initiated a transfer when he had no idea if the technology worked as described? He’d have wanted more than test results. He’d want proof. Until he had that, he wouldn’t pay that much money into Archer’s accounts. And why five accounts anyway? Why not one?”

  “So what do you think happened?” Ice asked.

  Dex shot a look at Annabelle. She was watching him with a curious expression.

  “I don’t know. But I mean to find out.”

  *

  “You think Eric had help.”

  Dex shrugged, his dark eyes not giving anything away. “I’m not sure. But it seems likely.” He spread his hands. “Look, we both knew Eric. He was a rich kid, a bit spoiled, good at math and science but not a genius. He must have had help, Annabelle. Unless you think he’d gotten so damned brilliant he could outsmart this guy, he had to have a partner.”

  “Not necessarily. Eric wasn’t a genius, but he was manipulative. He could play people. I don’t doubt that he could get Mr. Lyon to give up the money through sheer bullshit. Then, when Lyon discovered he didn’t have a working product, he killed Eric. Now he wants the money back.”

  “And Marshall Porter?”

  “He never left the States. I saw him while Eric was gone. He doesn’t have a twin. He can’t be in two places at once.”

  “He only needed to handle the money, and he could have done that from Briar City.”

  “True, but if he handled the money, why is it still there? Why is he still working at Archer Industries? He could have bought an island, as you so wisely pointed out, and disappeared.”

  “Has he answered your texts yet?”

  “No. But it’s still Sunday in the States. He’ll answer in the morning when he returns to work.”

  “You really trust this guy?”

  She didn’t know who to trust anymore. Well, other than Dex and his people. Life was crazy these days, and people were crazier. “I did trust him, yes. You’re making me doubt myself, but I honestly don’t know why he’d still be in Briar City if he knew where the money was. He could take one of those accounts and disappear.”

  “How do we know he didn’t?”

  “There’s half a billion sitting there. Do you think there was six hundred million? Or some other odd number?”

  “That’s a good question.” Dex picked up his phone and dialed. “Hey, Kid,” he said. “You see any evidence of money moving out of those accounts lately? Or any evidence there was more at one point? … Yeah, if you could let me know.”

  Outside, the Muslim call to prayer echoed from the city’s mosques. Jorwani was primarily a Muslim country, though there were pockets of Christians throughout. The country was ruled by a secular government, though Zain Okonjo wanted to change that. Annabelle walked over to the window and peered through the shutters. She reached up to open them so she could see more, but Dex stopped her.

  “Not a good idea, Belle.”

  She dropped her hand away and squinted through the cracks. Most of the men wore white robes. Colorful robes adorned the women. Almost all wore hijabs over their hair. She hadn’t worn one into the country because it wasn’t required, but there were those who thought Jorwani was headed that way if Okonjo’s forces won. Subjection of women was always the first step in any move toward authoritarian government.

  Take away the right to drive, the right to work, the right to have access to birth control and reproductive care—it was a slippery slope that always began with something small and then snowballed. She should know. She’d had her own rights curtailed when Eric and her parents forced her into marriage.

  And then he’d thrown away her birth control, as if she had no right to determine when or how she got pregnant. Yes, she’d still been able to drive and work, but her reproductive rights had been decided by someone else. She still felt the unfairness of that down to her bones—and she would fight hard so that other women didn’t suffer the same thing.

  “It’s lovely, isn’t it?” she asked without looking at Dex.

  “What is?”

  “The call to prayer. So melodious.”

  The mullah’s voice rose and fell as he performed the ritual chant. It was exotic because it was different from her experience, and haunting when she considered all the connotations—both real and imagined—that accompanied it.

  “There are those who are frightened by it,” Dex said, as if he knew what she was thinking. “Because it’s Islam. Some people think all Muslims hate everyone who doesn’t follow their religion.”

  “Do you believe that?”

  He stilled for a moment, head up, listening. “No. I’ve spent a lot of time in Muslim countries. They’re people, like us, and they have a lot of the same desires and wants. I didn’t realize it for a long time. But the military changes you, exposes you to things you never knew existed. So no, I don’t believe they all hate us.”

  “I imagine most people just want to make it through the day,” she said. “Go home at the end of it and have dinner with the family. Look forward to the weekend so they can sleep in.”

  “That’s pretty much true. But there are always people in this world who want to harm us—harm our country—for being who and what we are. That’s why I joined the military. So I could stop it.”

  The thought of him on the front lines somewhere, camo paint on his face and grenades dangling from his belt, always made her shiver. She pictured bullets flying all around him as he led the charge into the unknown.

  Annabelle shook herself and walked away from the window.

  Dex was busy inspecting his weapons, and she had a moment where she did a double take at the variety on display. She hadn’t realized he’d brought his own personal arsenal with him, but she should have known.

  “How did you get those guns into the country?” She didn’t remember him going through customs with a case like the one he was looking at right now.

  He opened it and ran a hand over a smooth black bar
rel. “Best you don’t know that.”

  She sighed and went over to where he was eyeing a rifle snuggled in foam. It was sleek and shiny.

  “This is Jane,” he said.

  Annabelle started. “Your guns have names?”

  “Jane does. She’s the only one.”

  “Why Jane?”

  “Because she’s incognito. Because she’s going to do damage when she’s called upon to work, but she’s not leaving behind a name. Jane Doe was here.”

  Annabelle frowned. “That’s kind of weird, Dex.”

  “Any weirder than your boy T.E. Lawrence and his adventures in that giant book you tried to get me to read with you?”

  She couldn’t help but grin. “No, not really.”

  “That’s what I thought.” He shut the case and loaded a pistol, tucking it into a holster inside his waistband. He tucked another gun into an ankle holster.

  “What about me?”

  “What about you?”

  “You know I can shoot. You taught me yourself.”

  “True, but you aren’t getting a gun. I’m the bodyguard here, remember?”

  There was a knock on the door, and Dex put a finger to his lips. He ghosted over on silent feet and flattened his back against the wall. There was a pistol in his hand before she’d even seen him draw, and she took a step backward, her heart thudding.

  “Yeah?” he asked loudly enough for whoever was on the other side to hear. The door was wooden, but there was no peephole.

  “It’s Brandy and Vic,” came the answer.

  Dex holstered the pistol and yanked open the door. The gorgeous redhead entered first, her husband on her heels.

  “What d’you have?” Dex asked.

  Victoria grinned. “We think we’ve found where he’s keeping them.”

  24

  The rest of the team gathered in Dex and Annabelle’s room in the Royal Cape Hotel. They had to wait for the others to make their way over from their various locations, but once they were all assembled, the planning began in earnest.

  Dex shot glances at Annabelle. She seemed to be handling it well enough, but when Vic had first announced they’d found the hostages, Belle cried out and demanded they go and get them right that minute.

  Dex had taken her by the shoulders and told her they had to be more deliberate than that. Her eyes had been wide and frightened, but she’d nodded and let him guide her over to the bed to sit down. She was still there now, chewing her lip and hugging herself.

  It was a risk for everyone to be here, but time was of the essence. If Leonov had anyone watching the hotel, they were waiting for Annabelle and her bodyguard to exit, not necessarily watching for others to enter. Though of course they were looking out for anything unusual. Fortunately, HOT had plenty of experience in counterintelligence and evasion. The guys had various lengths of hair, and a couple sported a few days’ growth of beard.

  They didn’t look like military guys, and that was important. The presence of the women helped since women weren’t typically Special Operators. The times were changing though, and there were more women in spec ops than was commonly known. In HOT, that number was still small, but it was going up as Mendez brought in the best of the best from wherever he could get them.

  Billy the Kid had his computer out, and he was going over the schematic for the place they thought Charlotte was being held along with Molly and Becca Carter. A concrete wall topped with razor wire surrounded the compound. Guards patrolled each section, but HOT didn’t know how many were inside. Yet.

  They would once they got close enough with their night vision goggles. The NVGs were equipped with a thermal mode that would display the heat signatures of all the people residing behind those walls. Since Vic and Brandy had been on a reconnaissance mission to find the place, they hadn’t taken much equipment. Not to mention it was daylight and too much high-tech stuff would peg them for what they were.

  “We need confirmation on those hostages,” Richie said. “Just because Lyon’s cell pinged out of that compound doesn’t mean the hostages are actually there.”

  “Lyon will call soon,” Dex said. “Belle will get him to put Molly on, even if only for a moment.”

  Once they had confirmation, they would launch. If they’d had more time, they could have confirmed it without waiting for Lyon. But they hadn’t arrived as early as they’d wanted to. Their plane’d had to land in Djibouti for a couple of hours, and that had cost them time. Still, they’d managed a lot in the limited time they’d had.

  Having the signal from Lyon’s cell phone helped them triangulate his position down to a particular quarter within the city. They’d systematically combed it until they found him. A little CIA intel from the colonel, and they knew they had their man. They just weren’t sure about the hostages.

  “Half a billion is a pretty large incentive to do what she asks,” Kid said.

  “You get any of that information I asked you about earlier?”

  Dex had told his team what he wanted to know. They’d agreed with the need to research it.

  “No other money. Not in or out. No other accounts connected.” Kid’s computer started to beep. He tapped a key, his eyes widening. “What the fuck?”

  His fingers flew over the keys, his gaze glued to the screen in front of him. Whatever was happening, he didn’t look happy about it. Dex’s gut churned. Whatever it was, it wasn’t good. He shot a glance at Annabelle. She was frowning, but she had no idea what this could mean or she’d be a lot worse off.

  “No, no, no, no!” Kid shouted, slapping keys and leaning into the computer. Then he sat back, shoved his hands through his hair, an explosive “Fuck!” filling the air.

  “What happened?” Richie asked.

  Kid’s eyes were wide as he lifted his gaze. “The accounts… They’re empty.”

  *

  “What do you mean, empty?” Dex growled.

  Annabelle gravitated to his side, her heart detonating in her chest. He put an arm around her and gave her a squeeze.

  “The money’s gone.” Billy Blake looked about as shocked as she felt. He stared at his computer screen, his hair standing on end, his expression one of complete disbelief. “I tried to stop it but… Jesus, this guy is good.”

  “Leonov?” someone said.

  Annabelle blinked. What was Leonov?

  Dex made a frustrated sound beside her. “Lyon, Belle. Think of him as Lyon,” he muttered.

  All she could do was nod.

  “Possible, but I doubt it. He could have done that days ago and saved us all the trouble.” Billy swore. “One minute the money was there, and then it started to move out of the accounts, one by one. I tried to tack a tracer onto it, but I don’t know if it worked.”

  “How soon before we know?” Matt Girard asked.

  “Minutes… or hours. If nothing pings back in twenty-four hours, I failed. It should happen faster than that, but twenty-four at the most.”

  Annabelle’s breath stopped. Her lungs were deadweight. Five hundred million dollars. Gone. Charlotte and Molly and Becca’s lives. That’s how much they were worth to Lyon—Leonov?—and now she had nothing to bargain with.

  She wanted to scream. Dex tightened his arm around her as if he sensed it. She turned her face into his chest. She had no choice if she wanted to keep it together. Her eyes squeezed shut and she breathed him in—the masculine scent of him, the familiar scent of him—and willed herself to think.

  “So if not Lyon, who? Who else knew about the sale?” It was Dex talking.

  Annabelle’s phone dinged in her purse. Dex let her go so she could retrieve it.

  *

  Sorry I missed your texts. Went hiking in the Shenandoahs. Just got back. Everything okay?

  *

  “It’s Marshall,” she said as Dex came up behind her. He took the phone from her and read over the texts before handing it back to her. “Text him back. Tell him about the explosion. Tell him you’re in DC but you wanted to make sure he secured the res
earch.”

  Annabelle nodded and did what he’d said. Her fingers trembled and her pulse raced a mile a minute. She’d said that Marshall couldn’t be involved—but what if she was wrong? Marshall would have the know-how. In fact, Marshall was the only one who knew all the pieces of the puzzle. Marshall and Eric.

  Except Eric was dead. There hadn’t been much of him left though. What if he’d faked it? What if he’d fooled her so badly that she’d been blinded to the idea of him being behind everything? He’d been an egomaniac and a bastard, but was he that diabolical?

  *

  Marshall: Wow! Was anyone hurt? Should I go over to the site?

  Annabelle: Roy Jenkins is in stable condition. If you go over, send me a picture, okay? I haven’t seen anything this morning. Been in meetings. Don’t want to turn on the news.

  Marshall: Definitely. Let me know when you get back.

  *

  Annabelle set her phone down on the bed. It rang. For a second she thought it might be Marshall calling. But it was the man of the hour. Lyon.

  Bile rose in her throat, and her stomach twisted. The money was gone, but she had to act like everything was normal. In fact, she had to act like she held all the cards. When she looked up, Dex’s gaze was on hers.

  “You can do it, Belle. I believe in you.”

  She nodded and answered the call. “Hello?”

  “Ah, Mrs. Archer—are you settled into your suite yet?”

  Hardly a suite. “Yes. But I don’t intend to stay. Come to the hotel lobby with my friends and daughter and we can make an arrangement.”

  His laugh slimed its way down her spine. “I call the shots here, not you. We will meet where I say. Do you have a pen?”

  “Is your place public?”

  “It is.”

  “So tell me.” He said an address and she repeated it. Billy Blake typed it in, nodding when he had it. Annabelle pulled in a deep breath even though her stomach threatened an assault on her throat. Time to play hardball. “I need to speak to Molly.”