Spirit of Danger (Body of Danger, #2)

by Bristol, Sidney

  Merida’s hands moved faster the more she thought about something that wasn’t what lurked in the shadows.

  She hadn’t seen Ethan in action, but her best friend had. Those accounts of Ethan’s lethal field performance were enough to keep Merida awake at night. She had to prevent other countries and organizations being able to reproduce what had been done to Ethan. And if that meant blowing up their offices, well, so be it.

  This was not how she’d seen herself celebrating Christmas this year. Oh, she’d expected late nights and a lot of thankless work picking up the slack. The better parts would have been spent on Finley’s sofa...

  His sofa.

  Her hands stilled and her cheeks heated. With everything going on she’d managed to push the events from earlier that evening out of her mind.

  They’d had sex.

  She still didn’t know where that left them or what that made them. On the ride over she’d thought surely that meant he wanted her to be friends-with-benefits or some other bullshit. What man wanted to be tied down when he could get his needs met without attachment?

  But earlier and then again right before he left her...

  Finley had a look in his eye. He’d kissed her. The things he said. What he’d told her about their friendship. How much she meant to him.

  Was it possible there was more to them? More to what they could have?

  Her hand closed on nothing.

  She started and looked down at the end of the cord.

  It was finished. She was finished.

  Merida swallowed and took the detonator from her pocket and fastened it to the end.

  They didn’t have much time yet.

  She checked her watch.

  Maybe twenty minutes.

  With any hope Finley and Elias were outside. Safe. Waiting on her to go have a beer and talk about how crazy tonight was. Of course that would be after she explained things to the FBI, the CIA, the police and of course her boss.

  Merida gripped the rifle. There was no reason to take the duffle with her. She’d used the last of her explosives here in the kitchen. Now all that was left was to just...go. It was done. In a matter of twenty minutes this building would be a pile of rubble.

  She could still remember the first day she’d shown up here. Zain had met her at the door with coffee and a small list of things that needed handling because, as usual, he was juggling an emergency. And she was his second set of hands.

  There would be no more secure meetings squeezed into the closet. No more lunch walks by the reflecting pool. And no more late night dinners with Sai.

  Her eyes stung.

  It was a place. A building. And yet she’d begun her civilian life here. She’d put down roots. Made friends. Found herself. This building didn’t contain any of that. All of the pieces that made up her new life would still be there, save Sai. What mattered was doing the right thing.

  Merida’s entire Navy career had been behind the scenes. Now she was on the front lines. It was up to her.

  She glanced over her shoulder at the improvised bomb in the darkness.

  Less than twenty minutes now.

  She shifted the flashlight in her hand, doing her best to hold both it and the gun.

  How had Finley made it seem so natural?

  The flashlight slid from her hand and hit the ground with a jarring crack. She flinched and dropped to her knee, grabbing for it as the flashlight rolled away. As her hand wrapped around the length of the handle, the beam of light threw shadows away from her. She glimpsed movement and turned her head.

  Two men sidestepped around a corner.

  Merida yelped and sat back on her ass. She left the flashlight where it was brought the gun up. She fired without aiming.

  These people had killed Sai. She didn’t think they’d be as kind to her if they knew who she was. And if they knew about Ethan how could they not know who she was?

  One man dove sideways while the other went crashing to the floor.

  She only had this chance.

  Merida shoved to her feet and turned.

  They could shoot and kill her, but they couldn’t capture her. She had no illusions about her ability to withstand torture. No, she didn’t know where Ethan was or who he was with, but she knew enough. She’d give these people enough information to go after someone else she cared about. And for that reason she couldn’t let them catch her.

  She ran through the darkness, skirting the cafeteria, very aware of the clock ticking down not far away. If she didn’t get out of this basement, today would be the last time she drew breath.

  The shadows ahead of her materialized into the form of a man. Too late she tried to stop. She reached out, grabbed the gun and yanked it from her. At the same time he drove her face first into the wall.

  In her mind she pushed off it like how she’d seen one of the girls do in training. But Merida didn’t have their reflexes. She sort of flailed her arms, the air struggling to make it into her lungs as he pinned her there.

  A hand dug into her hair. Pain prickled along her scalp. He yanked her back.

  She grasped his wrist, not sure if she should hang on or dig her nails in.

  Merida bit her lip to keep from screaming or calling out. It was crazy how that one word, help, was on the tip of her tongue. She couldn’t say it, couldn’t give them reason to think there were others out there.

  “Move,” the man snarled.

  He yelled something that echoed off the walls. It was English. She didn’t expect it would be.

  Silence answered them.

  Hot breath fanned her cheek. “You killed my friend. I’m going to kill you, but nowhere near as fast.”

  Merida’s heart fluttered.

  She didn’t doubt that threat, but she also didn’t expect to live that long. At least she had that ace up her sleeve.

  Finley and Elias were outside. She had to tell herself that. She wanted to believe. With so little time left they couldn’t come back in for her.

  Which meant she needed this death march to take as long as humanly possible.

  She was never going to have that chat with Finley. Never going to know what they could be to each other.

  Her knees buckled. It wasn’t even an act. She just didn’t make the effort to catch herself.

  The man swore and jabbed her in the ribs with his gun as she settled on the tile floor. The flashlight mounted on his rifle cast strange shadows along his body, distorting his face.

  This was the last person she was going to see before she died.

  At least she’d die knowing she didn’t give up. She’d protected what they knew. She’d protected their people. She’d served until the very last.

  “Get up,” the man snarled.

  He hauled his foot back.

  She braced herself and squeezed one eye shut.

  A grunt followed by a sickening crunch made her gut tighten.

  Merida’s eyes snapped open.

  The man’s gun dangled from the shoulder strap. The shadows seemed to dance as a giant of a man pounded fists against her captor’s head.

  Merida gaped at the new man swathed in nearly uniform black. The same black she wore.

  It had to be Finley.

  She pushed to her feet as her captor collapsed.

  Finley yanked the knit mask off, his hair sticking up every which way. He breathed deep, sweat glistening on the half of his face she could see from the flashlight.

  “Are you okay?” He stared at her, eyes wide.

  “Fine. I’m fine.” She managed to get the words out even.

  She thought he said, “Thank, God,” under his breath. She was too hyper aware of him.

  Finley reached for her, wrapping an arm around her waist and pulling her to him. His big hand stroked her cheek and he stared down at her.

  “He didn’t hurt you, did he?” he whispered.

  “No.” Her head ached and she knew she’d have a few bruises, but in the grand scheme that didn’t matter.

  Finley crus
hed his mouth to hers, chasing further thought from her mind. She clung to him, her heart soaring as she lost herself in the moment.

  Only, he wasn’t supposed to be here. He should be out. With Elias.

  Merida shoved at his shoulders.

  “What went wrong?” she demanded.

  Finley’s face went grim. “There’s a problem.”

  Because they needed more of those.

  FINLEY KEPT LOW ON the stairs. They were approaching from the north side, which would give them an excellent view of their next problem. With the shadows all around, they blended in well enough. It also helped that the people clustered in the lobby were focused on Elias.

  Merida’s hand closed around his arm and she whispered into his ear. “I thought you were getting him. I thought you were outside.”

  Finley grimaced. “I was too late.”

  The men had Elias down on his knees and were shining a light in his face. Blood trickled down Elias’ cheek and his lip looked busted. One sleeve had been torn off his dark knit shirt, proof that he hadn’t been taken down easy.

  Finley had backtracked Elias’ path. Someone had lost a lot of blood on a second floor landing, but it didn’t look like it belonged to Elias.

  There were six able-bodied men looming around Elias. Where were the injured? What about those in the security office? Were there more?

  Finley didn’t have time to get answers.

  They had to move soon. When the building went whoever was close to Elias’ bag was at risk of being at the epicenter of a secondary blast. The detonator cording alone was enough to cause serious bodily injury.

  How was Finley going to get both Merida and Elias out of here?

  They could always cut their losses. There was time to slip out another exit. Elias was a soldier. He’d understand. But did he know why he was giving up his life? Finley doubted that, and he couldn’t in good conscience ask a man he didn’t know to die. Not even for Merida. Not anymore. That wasn’t who Finley was anymore.

  “What are we going to do?” she asked.

  “Something stupid.” He glanced at her. “Do you trust me?”

  “Yes,” she said without hesitation.

  “We might die.”

  “We might live, right?”

  “Might.”

  “We’re running out of time. So, whatever it is, let’s do it. Come on.”

  Finley swallowed, or tried to. It was hard to do such a thing with his heart beating in his throat. He’d gone into some seriously fucked up situations in his life. He’d risked men, his own life, but today was different. This was her they were talking about. And she was more than willing to die for whatever these people might find out.

  He wanted to convince her to run, that it wasn’t worth it, to let him take the risk, but he couldn’t. He knew it was pointless. Merida was stubborn and brilliant. He’d watched her put others first time and time again because she believed in the greater good. For once he wanted to put her first.

  Then it hit him.

  By doing as she asked he was putting her first. In a twisted way, she was getting what she wanted. It just wasn’t what he wanted.

  Finley shook his head and sighed.

  They’d had half an hour together. It had been perfectly them. And he wished it could have gone on forever, but it couldn’t. If they had more time, he’d tell her how he felt. He wanted her to know, but he also couldn’t distract her.

  He shouldn’t have waited for the timing to be right between them. He should have told her sooner. He’d been too concerned with maintaining what they were that he hadn’t fought for what they could be.

  If by some miracle they lived through this, he was going to tell her.

  Merida leaned closer and tugged on his sleeve. “Fin, what are we going to do?”

  He bent his head and told her, hating his plan even as she nodded along, acting like it was the smartest move in the book. It was stupid, that was what it was. But they were dealing with a stacked deck which meant they couldn’t play fair.

  They pulled back just far enough to shift gear and for him to make sure his mask covered everything. Those men couldn’t suspect he wasn’t one of them, not until the very last moment.

  There would only be one shot at this, and time was not on their side.

  Merida looked up at him and licked her lips. He wanted to kiss her, maybe one last time, but he didn’t dare. Not if there was the smallest chance she might survive with the seconds, they’d save.

  “Ready?” she asked.

  “Yeah. You?”

  “Yeah.”

  Finley didn’t wait. He didn’t warn her. He couldn’t allow her reaction to be rehearsed or theatrical. It had to be genuine.

  He grabbed her by the back of the jumpsuit and pushed her forward. Merida yelped and almost fell. He half-supported her as she scrambled up, muttering curses under her breath as they reached the first floor.

  They’d sent two men downstairs to do a sweep. They knew there were at least a man and woman in the building. So, now they thought they had a man and woman in custody.

  A flashlight slashed toward them, aimed at Merida.

  She squinted and hugged her arms to herself. Just a scared woman. That was all she was.

  Finley shoved her forward again as he took stock of the situation.

  Six men. One was wounded, he hadn’t seen that from the stairs. Five ready for combat. Elias down.

  One of the men said something, repeated it more accurately.

  That was when Merida made her move. She yanked the flash grenades out from under her arms and tossed them into the knot of men.

  “Go. Now,” Finley snapped.

  He dove, going to his knee behind the outcrop of marble that served as a sort of decorative planter up against the side of the lobby. It was the best cover he could hope for. Finley turned his head and held his breath.

  One after the other, the grenades went off, filling the lobby with smoke and light. His ears rang.

  The fourth detonated.

  That was his signal.

  He wheeled around, gun up, and fired, focusing on the tight knot of people around Elias.

  The man with the flashlight was the easiest target.

  A half-second before Finley pulled his trigger, his target went down.

  “Son of a—Merida!” He adjusted his aim and fired.

  She was supposed to have gone. As soon as the first flash grenade went off she had agreed to get out of the building.

  Elias struck out, sending the man closest to him to the ground. Elias’ sneakers slid on the marble before gaining traction. Finley aimed and shot at the man making a grab for Elias.

  Marble cracked and flew as a bullet hit the wall just over Finley’s head. He hunched, keeping his head low as he searched for where the hell Merida was.

  “Get out of here, go,” he bellowed.

  “Go, we’re right behind you,” Merida yelled.

  Elias scooped up a rifle and used the butt of it to clock a man in the jaw before sprinting for the doors.

  God damn woman. She wasn’t going anywhere. She hadn’t listened.

  Finley hunched in place. He had nowhere to go. The lobby wasn’t exactly built for a firefight.

  Merida had to get out of here. She at least had a clear opening with the doors not far from her.

  There.

  She’d taken cover behind a trio of four foot tall planters. The thick ceramic filled with earth would offer her some protection. The glass at her back was spider webbed and broken through. More bullets pelted the glass.

  Oh, no...

  They knew where she was and they knew where he was.

  The bombs were going to go off any minute. If Merida had any chance of surviving, she had to get out now.

  She had to.

  At any cost.

  “Merida,” he shouted.

  Her head swung toward him.

  A sheet of glass at her back fell, raining shards down on her.

  “Go.” He wa
ved his hand.

  She shook her head.

  “I’ll be right behind you,” he yelled, though she couldn’t have possibly understood him.

  A bullet took out a chunk of the ceramic pot next to her and the shard struck Merida in the shoulder. She sat back hard and grasped her arm.

  Finley caught a bit of movement. Men keeping low, moving toward her position. They were trying to flank her.

  “Oh, no you don’t,” he muttered.

  Before Finley could get his gun up, someone else fired.

  Elias was crouched behind a tree out front. He’d come back.

  “Go, Merida. Go,” Finley yelled.

  He had to draw all the attention. All the firepower had to be aimed at him.

  Finley drew the handguns he’d tucked away and let the rifle hang at his side. He pivoted on one knee and began firing, blind at first, then focusing on one target. The goal wasn’t to kill or even to injure. He had to distract them. To disrupt them so Merida could get free. She was all that mattered to him.

  Pain and fire blazed up and down his left side. He adjusted and fired back, following the bursts of light more than the figure of a person.

  He fell back against the wall. Out of the corner of his eye he caught sight of Merida darting out through the glass, her hair streaming behind her as she sprinted.

  Good.

  She’d live.

  Now he just had to keep these assholes busy.

  Too late his eyes locked on a man with a clear shot at him. Finley’s leg screamed in pain. He couldn’t move quickly enough.

  A shape rose up from behind the front desk and smashed something against the man’s head. Whatever it was shattered and the gunman went down. But so did the man-shape.

  Who else was here?

  Had they missed a fourth person?

  Finley pushed into a run from his crouch, firing as he went. The other men were scattered, taking refuge where they could. Outside, Elias was still firing, keeping them occupied and off balance. At least three were dead or injured, leaving three to face Finley.

  He vaulted over the desk. His feet slid out from under him and he sat down staring at the body of a young man. Or what should have been a body. Merida had said the security guard was dead.

  The young man’s skin was practically gray. He lay curled up on his side, sweat slicking his skin. Whatever fight he’d had in him, it had all gone into that single attack that might have very well saved Finley’s life.