Monkey Business [Drunk Monkeys 1] (Siren Publishing Ménage Everlasting)

by Tymber Dalton

  “Unless you want to kill me right here and now, yeah.” Her palms sweated and she had to force herself not to rub them against the legs of her jeans.

  Again with the stupid.

  She should have thought that statement out before letting it fall from her dumb-ass mouth. They were likely men used to killing under orders.

  “We don’t want to hurt you,” Tango assured her. “We just want to do our job. Right now, our job is to try to save the damn world. And it got a lot harder when we learned we had to go OTG. We need all the allies we can trust. Can’t you understand that?”

  It was hard to concentrate when his Texas drawl seemed to squarely hit her somewhere in the vicinity of her clit. “Can’t you understand that people have a right to know what happened and what needs to happen next?”

  “What happened,” Doc said, “can’t be changed. Nukes and bombs can’t be unlaunched. People can’t be brought back to life. But what needs to happen from this point forward can be negatively impacted if you break this story too soon and it keeps us from finding the other members of his team and bringing them in safely.”

  “But on the flip side, if I reveal what happened, the governments can’t deny it and hide a vaccine.”

  “No,” Tango said. “But they can send a team of guys like us in to kill you and plant false evidence that makes it look like you’re a whackjob crazy person who made everything up to fake your way up the corporate ladder. You think that can’t happen, then, honey, you really did just fall off the turnip truck, because we’ve been those guys on those missions before. And if not you, what about your sister and her family? Killing them and making it look like you did it? That could happen, too.”

  Her throat went dry at the thought of any harm coming to them.

  Logic…logic…logic…

  She forced herself to swallow. “Papa said there was a mole. How do you plan to figure that out?”

  “That’s our problem, not yours. We can find or make safe houses,” Doc said. “We have secure contacts and resources you don’t need to know about. When we find Dr. Patel, we can use whatever he’s put together, if he was able to do so. But we’re the best hope Quong and the others have to safely come together and figure this shit out before it’s too late for all of us.”

  She noticed he said when they found Patel, not if.

  She liked his quiet cockiness.

  Damn him and his devil logic.

  “You still didn’t give me an answer,” she said. “I’m a partner, not a freaking prisoner, right? I’m part of the team.”

  “You have to swear to work with us,” Doc said. “You don’t fake us out. You give us your word that you won’t go behind our backs and try to get the story out sooner.”

  “I promise.”

  The men shared another glance. “Go get Papa,” Doc told Tango.

  Tango returned a moment later with the man, who listened to their deal with his fists planted on his hips and his stony gaze focused on the darkened ground.

  She fully expected him to nix the idea and tell her she was returning to the US.

  Which, in a way, would have been a relief. The more she thought about this, the more the scope of it terrified her.

  I’m sooo not ready for this. I thought I was, but I’m not.

  Silent for a moment, Papa slowly shook his head, but his answer shocked her. “Fine.” He pointed at Doc and Tango. “You two are now responsible for her. She’s your package.”

  Papa focused on her. She realized from the hard, cold glint in his hazel gaze that he wouldn’t budge an inch. With his tone low and steady, he said, “We bring you into this team, it makes you one of us. If you’re one of us, any and all of these men will die to protect you and keep you safe. No one will harm you.

  “But.” He pointed a finger at her. She flinched as if it were a loaded gun. His quiet tone terrified her. “You cross the line, just one time, even by a fraction of an inch, and you fuck us over and break our trust? You will not leave Australia alive if that happens. They will never find your body, and they will never know what happened to you. Do you understand me?”

  The chill that washed through her had nothing to do with the weather. Involuntarily, she hugged herself, rubbing at her arms. “Yeah,” she said. “I get it. I won’t fuck you guys over. I promise. Look, I want this vaccine found as much as—”

  Papa turned on his heel and stalked back into the house.

  She swallowed, the rest of her statement dying in her throat.

  Tango nodded. “Guess that’s that then. Looks like you just got yourself two bunkmates.” She must have looked shocked, because he laughed, apparently enjoying her discomfort. “Relax, sugar. Clothing on, not off.” His expression also hardened. “But he’s right. We’ll die for you if you’re one of us. You stay one of us, you’re part of the team. You don’t…” He shrugged.

  He didn’t have to finish. She nodded.

  “So if we’re partners, what are your real names?”

  “We don’t use our real names.”

  “You know my name. If I’m part of the team, I want to know your names.”

  The men exchanged a glance. Tango went first. “Specialist William Black. Bill.”

  “Specialist in what?”

  “Medic.”

  “So sort of like him,” she said, tipping her head toward Doc, “but without the MD?”

  “More like a paramedic. I might be able to keep you alive short-term, but I might not be able to fix whatever’s wrong with you so you stay that way.”

  She looked at Doc.

  “Specialist Kurt Ochoa.”

  “Doctor?”

  He nodded. “They pulled me for the SOTIF team assignment before I got my official MD, but I was in my residency.”

  Tango and Doc both stared at her. “Well?” Doc finally asked. “We going to stand out here in the cold all day? Or are we going inside?”

  “Inside. Please,” she added, thinking it might not be a bad idea to ease up on the snark with the two of them.

  Chapter Seventeen

  The knock on Silo’s office door made him look up from his computer where he was going over the latest worldwide Kite infection numbers obtained from his contact at the CDC. “Come.”

  Jerald eased the door open. “Sorry to disturb you, Reverend, but I thought you’d want to hear about this.”

  Silo waved him in. Jerald closed the door and that was when Silo saw Jerald had a piece of paper in his hand. “What’s that?”

  “The account you have me monitoring received an e-mail a few minutes ago.” He handed it across Silo’s desk.

  Silo took it, frowning as he read. “Dr. Quong was number one on the list,” Silo said. “Am I reading this correctly? Does this mean they’ve located him?”

  “It would appear someone has located him. I can’t confirm if he’s in the proper hands and accessible to us yet or not. I sent a reply for clarification through the ISP scrambler.”

  “Good.” He handed it back to Jerald. “Shred that.”

  “Yes, sir.” Jerald walked it over to the shredder and ran it through. “As soon as I receive a reply, I’ll let you know.”

  That particular contact was deeply embedded in General Arliss’ chain of command. Even better, the person was doing it because they were a devout believer in the flavor of religion Silo was selling. He hadn’t needed to bribe the person. After several private meetings and discussions with the person, Silo had been able to bring them on board with promises of a secure place in his St. Louis stronghold for them and their entire family when things got worse.

  The devoted received bennies like that. Silo didn’t care if he had to issue bribery or threats or just promises of a safe future to get what he needed.

  “Excellent. Thank you.”

  Once he was alone again, Silo sat back and templed his fingers in front of him. The Kite infection was approaching critical mass in portions of India and Pakistan. Good news, as far as he was concerned.

  They were tw
o of the countries he’d worried most about despite their previously reduced populations. China was another. Other countries in the Indochina region were rapidly tipping that way, although their populations had been thinned considerably, by over fifty percent each, during the avian flu pandemic that hit India, Pakistan, Vietnam, and their other neighbors fifteen years ago.

  South America wasn’t as troubling to him despite their closer proximity. A majority of citizens in those countries were already of the Christian persuasion, even if a lot of them were…Catholics.

  Still, easier to get them to drink a different flavor of punch than to teach them to like punch to start with.

  He didn’t worry about Europe at all, because they would be in the pocket of the US. Once he was elected, it’d be quite easy to sway them his direction.

  The continent of Africa…

  Well, he might have to declare that a lost cause anyway. If he had the rest of the world, he could leave that area as a refuge for the outcasts. Cut them off from everyone else and let them kill each other as they were already wont to do.

  They wouldn’t survive without the aid provided by the US anyway.

  And he would immediately sign an executive order withdrawing all aid from those countries as one of his first acts in office.

  But China…

  It was assumed the Kite virus was bad in urban sections of China, although with the state’s tight control over the media there, it was nearly impossible to discern the truth.

  That is something I’ll change once this is over.

  In fact, his plans included letting China burn itself out with the Kite infection rather than giving them the vaccine.

  Once he got his hands on a vaccine, that was.

  He didn’t bother holding back his smile. Once the vaccine was confirmed, he’d be one of the first inoculated, of course. And then imagine the cachet that would garner, him being able to walk amongst the stricken people, blessed by the Almighty himself—or so those rubes would think—and never afflicted with this Apocalyptic scourge.

  I need a white Cadillac SUV. He nearly giggled at the thought, of calling it his “pale horse.”

  Letting out a sigh, he pondered that one some more.

  Maybe that would be a little too much. Pushing things too far.

  He knew he walked a delicate balance right now. It wouldn’t do to become greedy and get too cocky.

  I wonder how much I could charge per person to save them?

  Bestowing God’s mercy would come at a pretty price for those who could afford it. The loyal, skilled workers and tradesmen who promised to devote their lives and allegiance to him, they would earn their vaccines.

  And he would earn their votes, too.

  Because once he thinned the herd, so to speak, he had a presidential campaign to run. No one would dare vote against him, especially if they owed their lives to him.

  And once he had the full might of America’s military behind him…

  Well, then I’d be unstoppable.

  He giggled.

  Chapter Eighteen

  She met most of the team. The rest of them were guarding Dr. Quong’s family at an undisclosed location close enough to be convenient, but far enough away not to be obvious.

  That was all they’d tell her about that. She didn’t blame them. Maybe it was better she didn’t know.

  Papa and Alpha, who was over at the other hideout, were partners, buddies, brothers, whatever you wanted to call them. Alpha, she was told, was the second-in-command.

  Oscar and Yankee were hottie twin brothers with short blond hair and blue eyes a different shade than Tango’s.

  Lima and Quack were also part of the team from the minivan who’d abducted her. Quack had curly dark blond hair and brown eyes, while Lima had black hair, brown eyes, and a handsome, chiseled profile that looked more like it belonged on a gorgeous statue of a Roman god.

  Foxtrot was the guy who’d driven back and told them they could proceed to the hideout. He and his partner, Kilo, were helping move things into the garage, which was now Dr. Quong’s makeshift lab, along with Echo, Omega, Uni, Victor, Juju, and Delta.

  I’m never going to remember all their fricking names.

  Besides Alpha, they told her that Zed, Uncle, Roscoe, and Niner were all at the other location and guarding Dr. Quong’s family. Niner, they added, spoke and read fluent Korean.

  “There’s twenty of you, huh?” she asked Papa.

  “Yep.”

  “So now what?”

  “Now one of your guys will go to your hotel room, get the rest of your stuff, and bring it here. We’ll have to go to your hotel room every couple of days and rumple the sheets or something so it looks like you’ve been coming and going.”

  “Why?”

  “That way, if someone asks the front desk or housekeeping staff,” he slowly said, as if speaking to a child, “it’ll look like you’ve been coming and going.” His tone and expression told her he was already regretting his decision if he’d have to repeat everything for her.

  She took a deep breath. “No, I meant why do we need to make it look like that?”

  Papa’s expression grew serious again, but this time the gravity of it didn’t pull on her. “Ah, sorry. Because if there is a problem in the food chain, they might have passed along who you are to other people. Better for it to look like you’ve been coming and going and they stay there watching for you, so maybe we figure out who they are, and for you to stay here safe with us. Unless you don’t want your shit?”

  “No, I want it. Thanks.”

  “I’ll go,” Tango said, stepping forward and holding out his hand for her room key card. She pulled it from her back pocket and gave it to him. “402,” she told him.

  “You expecting any messages or packages?” Tango asked her.

  “No.” She rethought that answer. “Well, I need to talk to someone. Or at least e-mail them.”

  When the men’s only response was to stare at her as if waiting for her to continue, she felt her face redden. “What?”

  “Seriously?” Papa asked. “You really think we’re going to let you do that this soon without a damn good reason or direct supervision?”

  It wouldn’t do any good to keep it from them.

  She explained who Mike was, and how he’d done the bulk of the digging. “So if you really want me to help you figure shit out, I’m going to have to be able to converse with him somehow.”

  Papa scratched at his chin. “Okay, that makes more sense.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “You have nothing in your background, from the information we were sent, that indicated the kind of training or skill needed to accomplish what you did. No offense.”

  “Oh, none taken. Sheesh.” She winced. Don’t piss off the grunts. “Sorry. I’m…testy.”

  Papa replied with a smirk. “Duh. But thank you for volunteering that. Helps me trust you a little more. When Tango gets back, we’ll sit down and go through some parameters and figure out how to let you contact him.”

  He didn’t sound like he was bullshitting her, or just telling her that to shut her up. He’d started to turn away from her when she reached out and touched his arm. “Can I ask you a question?”

  He paused. “Sure.”

  She glanced around the living room of the large house. This wasn’t a well-equipped lab in a hospital or university or other facility.

  “You really think you guys can pull this off?”

  He grinned. “We’re not just monkeying around. You need a job done right, send in a monkey.”

  She smirked. “Nice.”

  * * * *

  Tango returned nearly two hours later with her things. She had been all prepared to grouse at him when she realized he’d packed her stuff far more neatly than she had, actually leaving her spare room in her bag.

  She stared into the duffle bag. “How’d you do that?” she asked, her ire fizzled and replaced by curiosity and more than a modicum of respect. It’d been all sh
e could do to get everything she’d brought with her crammed into the bag. Even then, she’d had to leave behind a couple of pairs of jeans she’d wanted to bring.

  He laughed. “Sugar, we live out of bags smaller than that. You think I can’t teach you a thing or two about traveling, think again.”

  She wasn’t even minding so much that he called her sugar. It sounded sweet said in his Texas twang.

  “Is that what took you so long?” she asked, feeling guilty now.

  “No, I was in and out of your room in under five minutes.”

  “Then what happened?”

  “Well, for starters, I didn’t just charge in there. I stopped and scoped the place out to see if I spotted anyone obviously watching. Which I didn’t. Doesn’t mean there won’t be later. Then I took my time getting back here, made several stops, meandered around to make sure I wasn’t being followed.”

  She felt her face heat again. “Oh.” If they’d sent her back to do it, she never would have thought about that.

  Just like she’d been clueless about them watching her when she went to the supermarket.

  She was lucky they were the good guys.

  One of the twins, she wasn’t sure which one, cooked dinner that night. Nothing fancy, just a huge pot of seasoned ground beef and mixed vegetables and rice, but it was good and filling.

  Dr. Quong took a break from reassembling his lab to eat with them.

  “Where are you at in your progress?” she asked.

  “Not as far as I would like. I had only finally acquired the remainder of the equipment I needed last week and was preparing to resume my work.”

  She wasn’t a scientist, but she wasn’t an idiot, either. “How can you think about making a vaccine when you don’t have mutated Kite samples?”

  “I have a few, but I do not know if it has since mutated beyond that,” he admitted. “My current goal is comparing the mutations to see where they vary. Then I can look for other changes with different samples. If I see a pattern with the mutations, I might be able to predict it and work on an advanced vaccine that will be successful with more than one strain.”