“There’s nothing to know.”
It had been over two decades. She thought there was plenty to know. But she couldn’t say that to him, could she? She was Kat Kasharin, Valentina’s twin, and she did not care about his past. She only cared about helping him because Valentina would have wanted it.
She turned her head to gaze at the passing lights of the city. Her eyes blurred. Dammit, she would not cry. The whole thing was ridiculous. Her story about being a twin was tissue-thin. She knew it, and she suspected he did too.
But so far he hadn’t pressed her on it. Not really. She hoped he would not.
She’d lost control of the situation. She was supposed to be keeping an eye on him—keeping him in New Orleans—until Ian assembled a strike team. Yet he was driving her across three states and refusing to tell her their destination beyond the airport in Atlanta.
Had Ian known it would be this way? She thought perhaps he had. Everything had happened so fast that he hadn’t been able to assemble a strike team—or a concrete plan—before Johnny was removed from his command. Ian called her once he’d known the arrest was happening and asked if she wanted in. He knew her true identity—though not everything about her—and he knew that she’d known Johnny in Moscow.
How could she have said no? She couldn’t. Not when Johnny was in danger. Not when Sergei and Dmitri had already taken everything she’d ever cared about away from her. Whatever else she did, she had to stay by this man’s side until the end of the mission.
But that didn’t mean she had to accept him steamrolling her.
“I’m hungry,” she said, more than a little churlishly. “Can we hit a McDonald’s or something?”
“I have power bars in my pack.”
“I want hot food. A hamburger. French fries. It’s not too much to ask.”
She could see his jaw tighten. She thought he would refuse, but then he spoke. “We’ll stop in Slidell. It’s not that far.”
“Thank you.” She hesitated. “We should inform Ian we’ve left the city.”
“He already knows.”
“You have spoken with him?”
“No. But you aren’t his only eyes and ears in New Orleans. He knows we left. Or he will soon enough.”
Typical Johnny. Still not prepared to trust anyone. “You are supposed to be working with him, not against him.”
He gave her a sharp look. “If you think I’m discussing every move I make with Ian Black, especially after his safe house was compromised so easily, you’re out of your mind. I agreed to wait for the strike team—but that was before Dmitri nearly blew your head off. Staying in New Orleans is suicide.”
He wasn’t wrong. They both knew it.
“All right. But he can still help us if you let him. He can provide cars, shelter, weapons, and intel.”
“I’m working with him as much as I can—and right now that’s not a lot since I don’t know how Dmitri found us. Unless you told him?”
She didn’t let herself react this time even though it pissed her off. “And I did that because? Then I didn’t bother telling him where we went why? You’re still alive because?”
He lifted an eyebrow. “I’ll grant you it doesn’t make a lot of sense. But who else knew where to find us?”
“Ian. Some of the people on his team, I imagine. Plus I’ve been in the city for a couple of weeks. If someone spotted me…” It was possible. Sergei had operations in New Orleans. She’d avoided the places where she knew he had people, though the majority of those wouldn’t know her or be looking for her. But all it took was one person from the old days to recognize her.
“Ian won’t be surprised we’ve left town,” he said. “He operates the same way I do.”
She studied his profile, the slope of his nose, the stubborn tilt of his jaw. The hot gleam in his eye. He still made her heart skip beats after all this time. Still made the blood beat hot and heavy in her veins. Love, sharp and impossible, sliced her heart in two. So much for escaping this mission with her heart intact. But then she’d known that from the moment she’d said yes, hadn’t she?
You could run from your past. You could put years and distance between you and the things that haunted you. But you never got over them. You never got free.
Chapter 13
“Would you look at that asshole?” Kev “Big Mac” MacDonald asked, tipping his beer bottle at the screen, disgust evident in his expression.
Cade Rodgers glanced over at the theater-sized television from his vantage point by the gaming table in Richie’s man cave. It had to be something good if Big Mac was riled.
And yep, that was good enough to rile them all. Vice President DeWitt talked to a reporter, looking every bit as smug and arrogant as ever. The man was a walking, talking douchebag. He had odd ideas about the military and even odder ones about special operations. Specifically about the Hostile Operations Team.
Delta Force and SEAL Team Six didn’t seem to bother him for some reason. But HOT? He had a personal woody for fucking HOT over as much as possible.
“Hey, unmute the TV,” Nick “Brandy” Brandon said. “Let’s hear what he’s up to.”
Someone found the remote and pressed a button. DeWitt’s polished voice suddenly filled the room.
“…and yes, I do think we should work more closely with our allies to effect change in the region. We are the global leader, the power that everyone looks to for guidance. We should be firm in our convictions and confident in our actions. As to the death of Mr. Levkin, that is a matter for Russian authorities. We are very sorry to hear of it though. Mr. Levkin was respected in Washington.”
“There’s been a rumor, Mr. Vice President, that a highly placed military commander has gone missing. It’s been suggested he’s involved in the ambassador’s death somehow. Is there any truth to the allegation?”
“Motherfucking asshole,” Richie swore. “He planted that rumor himself!”
Iceman turned an interesting shade of red. He probably shouldn’t be here, considering he was President Campbell’s son-in-law, but nothing they’d said had convinced him to stay away. He’d been HOT for too long and didn’t want to be left out of the action—even if the action was illegal and against regulations. If they got caught, they could all face hard time in a military prison.
Yesterday General Comstock had informed Lieutenant Colonel Bishop that Colonel Mendez had gone rogue when he’d disappeared from his office. In response, Alpha Squad, Echo Squad, and the SEALs were all going rogue too—even if Mendez had told them to stay out of it. They weren’t staying out of it. No way in hell.
They’d been shut down at HOT HQ, but they knew how to set up a temporary command post as well as anybody. They had the know-how and the determination, if not the same level of equipment—though they had some of that too, because it had been issued to them in the course of their duties. There was enough confusion at HQ with Comstock and his people running around that they could get away with not turning it in for a few days.
Hopefully a few days was all it would take.
“I hate that guy,” Ice muttered as the veep plastered on a grave look in response to the reporter’s question.
“I can’t discuss military operations, Lester. You know that. There’s nothing to tell at the moment. The American people are safe and our nation is secure.”
“Is it true you’re meeting with business leaders in Moscow, Mr. Vice President?”
“The president believes it’s prudent to engage businesspeople around the globe. And we do business with Russia, so yes, I’ll be meeting with business leaders on my visit to the country next week.”
The sound snapped off, but the veep stayed on-screen for a few more moments before he bustled away and slipped into a waiting limousine.
“If I could just talk to Grace’s dad about this,” Ice was saying. “I’m sure he’d want to help the colonel. Mendez saved Grace’s life, for fuck’s sake!”
“It’s politics,” Victoria said, sliding into view with all the g
race and stealth of a cat. Cade hadn’t realized she was in the room. Damned snipers. “Grace’s daddy has been pressured to let the investigation happen. Don’t forget that Mendez reports directly to the president. If Campbell didn’t do it, if he interfered in any way, it could harm his presidency and open him up to charges of obstructing justice. And then there’s you, honey,” Victoria added, her voice soft. “You’re his son-in-law, and you’re part of the organization being investigated. If he puts a halt to it now… Well, it won’t look good.”
Ice slumped onto the couch and scrubbed his hands through his hair. “I know. But shit, I just feel like I should do something.”
“We all do. We are doing something.”
“Have you told Grace?” It was Lucky who spoke. Cade couldn’t quite take his eyes off her golden beauty. Victoria was a stunner as well, but it was Lucky who revved Cade’s motor. Or would have if not for the glowering presence of her husband.
Right. Check. Husband.
Not that he’d forgotten she was married to Kev, but she was just so damned interesting he sometimes conveniently didn’t think about it. That right there was the woman who’d single-handedly neutralized the most dangerous terrorist in the world. It gave him a chill just thinking about the stories he’d heard. Brave, beautiful, lethal Lucky. Damn fine woman. Damn fine operator.
Lucky and Victoria were Alpha Squad, female operators in a man’s world. Cade admired the hell out of them, and out of the colonel as well for taking a chance on them. They had to be twice as good as the men in order to make the cut. Not that it was fair, but that’s the way it worked for women in this world.
Personally, he loved a strong woman. He’d been raised by one—and if she hadn’t had kids to take care of, she could have been in this room planning to kick some ass.
Ice shook his head. “No, I haven’t told her. She wouldn’t take it well. She thinks this is the normal downtime we get between missions. She damned sure doesn’t know the colonel is gone.”
“I know you’re pissed, Ice,” Richie said. “But you really gotta keep this one under wraps, buddy.”
“Yeah, I know.” He smacked one fist inside the other hand. “It just really pisses me off. DeWitt is so fucking slimy. The way he looks at Grace sometimes…”
“Dude, I hear you.”
It was Jack “Hawk” Hunter talking. He wasn’t strictly in HOT anymore, but he worked with them quite often. Another of those silent-but-deadly snipers that you often forgot were in the room. Too damned quiet by half.
“My wife dated that SOB,” Hawk said. “Years ago, but I still hate the idea that he ever had his dirty hands on Gina.”
Whoa, Cade hadn’t realized that. But then again, Hawk’s wife was a famous pop star. Gina-fucking-Domenico. Hawk was legend in HOT for having married her. He’d met her several years ago while extracting her from an arms dealer’s remote island retreat. They’d met again a few years later when her son—Jack’s son too, it turned out—was kidnapped.
“Hey, Saint—is Hacker still coming?”
Cade swung his gaze to Richie. Sky “Hacker” Kelley was Echo squad’s IT guy. Alpha’s guy, Billy Blake, was practically a celebrity in HOT, but Hacker was coming on strong and making a name for himself. The two of them together?
Get the fuck out. Epic.
“Yeah, he’s coming. Twenty minutes out”—Cade looked at the text on his phone—“ten minutes ago.”
Kid looked up from whatever he was doing on his computer. “Great. I could use the help monitoring this network.”
There was a knock on the door and they all stilled. Richie went over and opened it. His wife stood on the other side. Evie was pretty and she could cook like nobody’s business. Man, if she was fixing the food for this little operation, Cade wasn’t ever going home. There wasn’t anything to go home to anyway. No woman. No pets. He was fine with that most of the time.
“Honey, Alex Bishop is here. I left him in the living room until I checked with you.”
Richie disappeared through the door. Five minutes later he was back with their deputy commander. Alex “Ghost” Bishop strolled into the room like he owned it, a light bird colonel to his core. One day he’d be a full bird and HOT would probably be his.
But they needed Mendez back for a while first.
The men and women stood at something approximating attention even if this was a private house and they weren’t on duty. Bishop was the only commanding officer they recognized as legit right now. They’d pretend with General Comstock, but he wasn’t one of them.
“At ease,” Bishop said. He fixed them with a hard stare. Taking their measure? Probably. “What we’re doing in this room could get us thrown out of the Army—and the Navy,” he added for the SEALs. “It could mean the end of our careers, put our families in jeopardy, and send us behind bars for a good long while. If you want out, I get it. If you want to stay, I need your unwavering commitment to the job.”
Nobody made a move to leave the room. They weren’t all here yet, but most of them were. Alpha, Echo, and the SEALs. All looking hard and angry and determined.
“When the others get here, I’ll ask them the same thing. But if everyone here is committed…?”
“Sir, yes, sir!” they said in unison.
“Excellent. For this mission, and this mission only, we’re taking off the rank. This is unofficial and we’re all risking too much to stand on ceremony. Call me Ghost. If we’re successful, if we make it out and go back to work doing what we fucking do best—well, the ranks will go back on at that time. Until then, we’re brothers and sisters and we’re fighting for our colonel’s life and career.”
“Amen,” someone said.
Bishop—Ghost—let his gaze slide over them one by one. “We ready to do this?”
“Fuck yeah!” Dane “Viking” Erikson said.
Everyone echoed the sentiment.
Time to get down to business.
“All right.” Ghost turned to Kid. “Make the call.”
Chapter 14
Mendez had a stop to make before he headed for the airport. He exited the highway and wove through one of the many suburbs of Atlanta until he found what he was looking for. Kat arched an eyebrow as he drove down a country road, then pulled up to the gate of a storage facility that had seen better days. He punched in a code and the gate slid back.
“What’s this?” she asked as he drove through and toward the rear of the lines of storage units.
“Insurance,” he said. He pulled between two buildings and shut off the pickup truck. It was an older model, not equipped with the latest in air-conditioning or heat, but it had done the job. The third vehicle he’d jacked since New Orleans.
Kat tilted her head to look at the building just outside his door. It was climate-controlled, which was more than he could say for the truck.
He swung the door open and dropped a booted foot on the pavement. Picking up his duffel, he kicked the door shut and dragged open the outer door of the storage building. Kat was right behind him as he strode down the aisle until he reached the one he wanted. The lock he’d put on the door was pedestrian, but anything too fancy and it would have been noticed.
He bent down and inserted the key into the lock. Then he pulled it off and dragged the door upward. He found the battery-powered lantern he’d left inside and turned it on. He’d dropped an electrical outlet into the unit for his computer and secure Wi-Fi device and he went over to turn them on.
Kat stood in the entrance with her jaw hanging open. He thought about shutting her mouth with his but then decided that was the mother of all bad ideas. He strode past her and dragged the metal door down until it hit the floor. Then he returned to the computer and booted it up.
“What is this?”
He looked up and snorted. It was the second time she’d said those words. “Need me to kick-start that brain of yours?”
She shook her head. “No, but I asked you once and you didn’t explain. Insurance is not an answer. I asked again b
ecause this is not what I imagined when we drove in here.”
He let his gaze slide over the interior of the unit. It was ten by twenty, which gave him enough room to store some things and to sleep if he really had to. There were no facilities here, but the main office had a restroom. There was a YMCA down the road for showers if necessary.
“What’s it look like?” he asked.
She came to his side and gazed at the screen, which showed that the computer was currently running through the boot process. Then she took in the shelves, the equipment, the safe in one corner, the Army cot against the wall.
“Looks like a command center. For a doomsday prepper,” she added.
He laughed. “Yeah, well I’m prepared for my own kind of doomsday. Apparently it’s arrived.”
She turned her gaze on him. “You were expecting this?”
“Not exactly.” He tapped on the computer, entering the passwords at each screen. “But you don’t spend nearly thirty years in special operations and expect to not make enemies. Or that your enemies won’t come after you.”
When he’d finally gotten approval to take HOT deep black, he’d made preparations. He’d always had a plan since his days in Moscow, but the plan had taken on new dimensions over the past few years. Deeper dimensions.
She folded her arms. He had to drag his gaze away from the effect the move had on her breasts. They swelled upward, threatening to spill out of her tank top. Not that he really expected they were in any danger of breaking free from their lacy restraints.
Yeah, he knew her bra had lace on it. He’d seen the outline of it beneath the silk a few times in the past several hours.
As for the breaking free—a man could hope.
“No kidding,” she said darkly.
He dragged a rolling stool in front of the makeshift desk and sat on it. “Who are your enemies?” he asked as he navigated to the secret email server he’d set up last year.
“I think you met with one of them yesterday.”
He glanced up. “And yet he didn’t kill you.”
“Of course he didn’t. That’s not Dmitri’s way, and you know it. He prefers to tighten the noose while you feel him getting closer. He wants his prey to panic. He’s a killer, but he’s not an efficient killer. He makes mistakes because he’s sadistic and prefers the game over the result.”
HOT Valor (Hostile Operations Team - Book 11) Page 8
