Seek and Destroy (TREX, #5)

by Allie K. Adams

  Obviously she didn’t believe him. Thank God she didn’t press the issue. “I’ll be showing you the ropes around intel.”

  “No, you won’t.” He shook his head and slowly closed his eyes. This was such bullshit. “Why not just take my sidearm and finish me off?”

  “Hey wait a minute. Working in intel won’t be so bad.” McKoy’s voice rose, both in volume and scale. He’d pissed her off and didn’t give a shit. He was TREX spec ops, through and through.

  Weber spoke up. “Snyder, you don’t have a choice.”

  He jumped his attention to Weber. “The hell I don’t. This is my life. If I want to risk it, it’s my choice.”

  “And what about the life of your team?” Weber threw back. “I can’t put you in charge of a team and risk the lives of all the other agents.”

  “That’s a bullshit excuse and you know it.”

  “It is a very real—”

  “Bullshit!” David roared and immediately regretted it. He winced against the pain, paused until it subsided. “We risk our lives every goddamn day. Having a chemical toxin in me does not make me any more of a risk than you with a blown out knee.”

  Weber grunted but didn’t argue.

  David swung his gaze up to McKoy, whose eyes held steady, waiting for his answer. She gave him a slight smile that made his insides unstable. Pulling his gaze back, he shook his head. If he accepted the transfer, it would be permanent, no matter what Weber said. “No transfer. I’m not sideline material.”

  “Take some time,” Weber offered. “Think about it.”

  “No transfer.” Nothing, not even for a chance to work with his angel, would convince him otherwise.

  FOUR

  One year later.

  It was too easy. Why didn’t they ever make it more of a challenge for him? He brushed a spec of dust from his laptop screen and sighed in irritation. He’d have to dust again. Montana was so dirty, even in the dead of winter.

  Christ, he was bored. At least when he played cat and mouse with the agency, they made it a little more interesting.

  Time to come out of hiding. Five years was long enough. They all thought he’d died, having blown himself up in that explosion back in his cabin. What a bunch of fucking morons.

  He traced the faded photo, its corners frayed and peeling. Her blue eyes shined, her smile warmed his heart. He loved her more than anything and would stop at nothing to show her how much. Everything he’d done in the past, and was about to do, would be a declaration of his love. As soon as she understood that, she’d come to him. She’d be his. Finally. His dick stirred, waking up to the thought of touching her, loving her, as he’d only been able to do in his mind.

  Blowing up those all those traitors five years ago made him feel alive again. It filled the void left when the agency ripped his world apart, when TREX threw him out before he had the chance to tell her how he felt.

  Screw them. He’d show them all. They were stupid to think he’d simply go away. For those five years he’d tried to hack into TREX’s system, to plant viruses that would wipe them out. But damn if they hadn’t beefed up their security, made their system so tight air couldn’t get in. So he’d taken out their punishment on the next closest thing.

  True Technologies, Inc.

  Round Architectural, LLC.

  Emergent Technologies, Inc.

  X-Tech Industry, Inc.

  He tried to find a technology company that started with the letter ‘R’ on the West Coast. He had to have the ‘R’. TEX didn’t make sense. Together they had to spell TREX. So he’d settled on the architectural firm. It didn’t do much damage, but at least it took him a step closer to his goal.

  TREX needed to pay for what they’d done to him. For what they’d taken from him. After five years, she didn’t pick up on his message or she would have come to him by now. Since she didn’t make the connection with the bombings, this time he’d better make it a little more obvious. A little more personal.

  He pushed the space bar and watched his monitor as an explosion rocked the lower left half of the new Cascade Technological Advances building, the gray concrete crumbling and belching smoke. His cock grew semi-hard with excitement from the scene as it unfolded.

  People, at least the ones who still moved under their own power, ran away screaming. The surveillance camera blinked against the percussion. He made a few adjustments and the camera went back into focus.

  His pulse quickened. God how he loved it when things went according to plan. “You see, my love? See what I’ve done for you? Look at the way they scatter. As if I’d do this for them.” He waited for several minutes until most of the people had evacuated the building. He didn’t want to hurt too many this time around. He couldn’t help if some were too stupid to get the fuck out of the way.

  He hit the space bar a second time and another explosion rocked the building, this one deeper inside. His body responded at the sight. His hard-on grew, straining against his zipper. Breathing fast, he smiled. Hot damn. It always excited him when he blew shit up.

  Glancing at the monitor, he watched the chaos, felt that familiar stirring deep in his groin. Always careful to place the bombs nowhere near a load bearing beam, he didn’t want the building destroyed, merely the server room. The first explosion took out the wall, opening the scene up for him to watch the rest of his beautiful plan at work. The second explosion did what it needed to—annihilated their computer system, completely rendering them technology-less. Satisfied with his plan, he pulled the picture off his monitor and closed the laptop.

  Soon, TREX. Very soon it will be your turn. He’d have his revenge. And when he removed the barrier between him and the love of his life, they’d finally be together again. Bringing the picture to his chest, he sighed. His cock pulsed against his jeans and he unbuttoned his pants to allow it free. Covering the head with his hand, he began to stroke. It didn’t take much for him to shatter, in his mind replacing his hand with hers. And her lips. And her tight little body.

  “For you,” he moaned and squeezed his eyes closed to conjure up her pretty face, her amazing body. “I love you so much.”

  He wanted to hear those words from her. Of course she loved him. How could she not when they’d spent five years together? No, he told himself, irritated at how the line between fantasy and reality was getting harder and harder to decipher. They’d been apart for five years. Physically, at least. They shared a connection that went far beyond the physical plain.

  He couldn’t think of her any other way but loving him. The thought of her not loving him simply didn’t compute. He wouldn’t be able to survive without her love. Her love filled his lungs. His very essence.

  And, he thought with a cold shudder, if she didn’t live to love him, he couldn’t stand the thought of her living at all.

  * * * *

  Charis hid behind the large palm tree and leaned just enough to see but not be seen. She studied her target. Tall, dark, and carved, his slightly shaggy yet oh-so-sexy hair lightened from the Hawaii sun, his skin bronzed from head-to-toe. She pulled her sunglasses down to get a better view as the ex-spec ops agent turned beach bum came jogging out of the surf like one of the lifeguards from an episode of Baywatch. David Hasselhoff nothing. David Snyder was worlds above him.

  His year off certainly did him good. His legs, long cords of solid muscle beneath tight, tan flesh, flexed and released as he moved out of the water. Her heart pounded in rhythm with every step he took as he ran up the beach.

  Why did he have to look even better than she remembered? He lifted his arm, showing off a perfectly sculpted bicep leading up to an even more perfectly sculpted shoulder. He brushed his hand through his sandy blond hair and sent drops of water flying. The gorgeous, firm muscles of his chest glistened with little licks of water. Sucking in her lower lip, she stared in awe as he twisted to stretch his back, flexing his flat stomach and rippling pectorals. Wow.

  The afternoon sun shined bright overhead in the cloudless blue sky, its rays cat
ching in the water droplets still clinging to his skin. Oh double wow. She’d never felt such a rapid and crushing, overpowering attraction to anyone. Letting out a shaky breath, she licked her lips.

  Charis zeroed in on the scar on his shoulder. It had since faded to a pale white lion’s mane. The sight of it sent a slight shiver through her. A single gunshot and his entire life had changed in an instant. He’d come so close to death, just as she had. Her visible scars had long since faded. The scars buried deep in her psyche still made it hard to sleep.

  She shook off her own personal nightmares. This find wasn’t about her. She came to seek out and retrieve David Snyder. From the way he moved now, he didn’t appear to have lost any mobility as TREX originally thought he would. He stretched his exquisite arms high over his head and bent over, touching his toes. It gave her a great view of his ass. Mmmm, mmmm, mmmm. Mobility seemed fine.

  Pushing her sunglasses up, she pulled in a breath and stepped out into the open, the small beach bag with her tanning oil, wallet, and cell phone swinging in her hand. The men’s oversized white dress shirt hung loosely against her skin, opened in the front to reveal a floral swimsuit. At least she didn’t have on the poor excuse of a swimsuit TREX chose for her. A bikini? Obviously someone in TREX’s wardrobe division had a sense of humor.

  Her twin brother Chris had recently transferred from TREX’s incident response division to the highly coveted spec ops division to be out in the field like their little brother, Logan. She wouldn’t put it past either one of them to have a hand in this. She glanced down at her appearance and gave an involuntary shiver. The last time she’d been this naked in public she’d just come out of the womb.

  She’d argued with wardrobe for over an hour before refusing the assignment if she had to sport a string bikini. But wardrobe, along with the rest of the TREX agents forcing her to wear something that would get her arrested anywhere else but the beaches of Maui, were all tucked safely back on the mainland. They’d never know she efficiently buried the ridiculous suit on the beach and now wore her own.

  Pulling her shirt closed in front of her, she drew in another deep breath. At least this suit covered most of the scarring on her stomach. The doctors used skin graph after skin graph from her torso to repair the damage after the explosion had peeled most of the skin off her right leg. She’d been lucky. If she’d stepped on the landmine instead of tripping the wire, it would have taken her leg clean off. Probably would have killed her. She shuddered at the memory.

  The scars, now pale and silvery in color, were barely noticeable. But they were noticeable. Exposing her scars to perfect strangers, let alone the agent she’d been sent to retrieve, didn’t exactly give her warm fuzzies. This was so outside her comfort level.

  If she had her way, she’d send him an email, or maybe give him a call, all under her codename, asking him to return to Seattle. She’d be fine with that. Anonymity was her middle name. It was every TREX agent’s middle name. It had to be in their line of work.

  Sure, those within intel knew her codename, and with that her true identity. Those outside the division did not. Separation of duties and all that. It kept the rest of the divisions in the dark, just in case they were ever captured by the enemy and tortured into giving up the identity of the agents with beyond top-secret access.

  How did he ID her back at the hospital? He was in and out of consciousness and doped up beyond belief. How, through all of that, did he know it was her? Half expecting him to contact her after the hospital confrontation, demanding some sort of payment or other form of blackmail in exchange for him to keep her ID secret, she’d waited. And waited. And waited. When he never made contact, she was ironically disappointed, even though she should have been ecstatic. She longed to hear his voice again, to see those deep charming brown eyes dance when he smiled. He had the cutest little dimple below his right eye when he flashed his handsome grin.

  Charis relished the memory of his smile. That familiar stirring of emotions swirled in her core, tingling her into a ragged sigh. She could stay here all day and just think about him, and was half tempted to do exactly that.

  Enough of the mental procrastination. She needed to get this over with.

  She glanced around. A sea of swimsuit models surrounded the pool. It looked like a Playboy convention. Women with ample breasts and tiny waists bounced in the pool or lounged in the sun. Some lounged next to men. Most didn’t. Tall women. Short women. The one thing they all had in common—they looked like candidates for the next cover of their choice in magazines.

  Screw this. She’d never be able to compete against them for David’s attention. Charis’s breasts were a solid B cup at best, and didn’t bounce or even qualify as ample. How did these women have glammed up dos, not a hair out of place? Her dark curls frizzed in this humidity and were completely untamable. She had an athletic build and her five-foot-nine-inch frame carried her weight well, but compared to these women she felt like she’d just swallowed a truck. Not just any truck. A semi. She didn’t have on a lick of makeup, which made her stick out like the ugly duckling in this crowd of painted beauties. As some of the buxom bombshells eyed her, giving her a once over in obvious disapproval, she grasped the shirt in front of her like a security blanket. The heat of embarrassment slammed into her cheeks.

  Some eyed her leg and made faces as if her scars gaped open, oozing pus and blood. Others gave her one look and quickly glanced away to avoid eye contact, hiding their mouth yet openly commenting to one another. And the rest simply stared in obvious curiosity and disbelief someone who looked like Charis dare intermingle with the rest of them. She heard the snickers. Hot humiliation crept up her neck. She had to get out of here.

  She’d wait until tonight to approach him. She’d buy her own dress. Something that had enough material to cover the essentials, at the very least. She may even be a rebel and buy a dress that went to the knee. The plane left in the morning. She still had plenty of time.

  Maybe one last glance. Charis offered a sideways glance in David’s direction, hoping to catch one last tantalizing peek before she cowered off in defeat.

  He glanced her way at the same time and their gazes crashed into each other, the powerful connection sending heat throughout her body, liquefying her from the inside out. He tensed, and she froze. Her heart refused to beat. Her lungs refused to work. His face lost all expression as his hands rested to his sides. She clearly read his lips.

  Angel?

  Oh crap. He recognized her, even without her glasses. She widened her eyes so far her contacts were close to popping out. Should she run away? Stay and pretend she didn’t know him when he approached? And he would approach based on that determination hardening his expression.

  A TREX agent didn’t run. It was now or never. The shirt waved in the slight breeze as she let it loose and walked through the maze of lounge chairs, ignoring the snickers and snide comments from the women as she passed.

  “Nice shirt,” one of them mocked.

  Kill them with kindness, her mother always said. “Thank you.” Charis gave the woman a genuine smile. And then go in for the kill, her father always added. “Imagine what your approval means to me.”

  The woman dropped her jaw and immediately darted her gaze to the women sitting around her. Charis continued toward a few of the open lounge chairs farthest away from the pool.

  No one else commented on her appearance, let alone her scars. Was that all it took? One smart-ass comment to the loudest mouth and it granted her immunity from the rest of them? Hard to believe, but she accepted it. She had enough on her mind without having to concentrate on witty comebacks every time someone said something about her roadmap of scars.

  That felt good. No. That felt great. The weight bearing down on her chest lifted, giving her the chance to take in an enormous breath of fresh Hawaiian air. Okay, world. Bring it on.

  Throwing all the glamorous, over-painted eye candy out of her mind, she slowed down to give David the flirtatious glance she’d prac
ticed all morning in front of the mirror. She allowed the shirt to fall off her shoulder and paused to pull it back up, peeking at him out of the corner of her eye, praying she didn’t look as ridiculous as she felt.

  Goosebumps washed across her flesh when she caught him watching her. Judging by his reaction, the stunned look on his face, she had his full attention. Her skin prickled from the thrill of stepping outside of her comfort zone. Outside? Ha! Her comfort zone was in another time zone.

  She removed the sunglasses and placed them on top of her head, pulling the front of her annoying curls off her face. To her chagrin, he stood in place and stared right back at her, snagging her gaze with his. His dark eyes danced. God how she loved those deep brown eyes. Hooded, endless, mixed with powerful emotions. His beachcomber shorts stopped just above the knee. The Maui sun did his body good. No shirt, no tan lines, just a hard body and sun-kissed to perfection. He was a true work of art.

  And like any magnificent work of art, Agent David Snyder was a hot commodity. Hot, indeed.

  Three days. It took her a whopping three days to track him down. TREX took longer planning the op than it did for her to find him. Why they asked her out of all the agents in TREX to find him still bothered her. TREX spec ops rarely asked for help from intel. At least not on something like this. SD Weber had asked for her help in the past, but on something so personal, she would have expected him to retrieve David himself, not have intel do it for him.

  It didn’t take a rocket scientist to figure out David’s modus operandi. He’d used the cover of a bartender on several of his ops, usually at a beach resort or tourist town. Lahaina, Maui fit both descriptions. It was what he knew, and humans were creatures of habit. When threatened or out of their elements, they reverted back to what they knew. He couldn’t fly. TREX had a trace on all the airports at all times as a normal course of business. With the metal in his system, he’d set off all the detectors. After 9/11 every airport had tight security, as they should.