Midnight Revenge

by Elle Kennedy

  Then he took the shot.

  Perfection. A clean hit through the sniper’s left temple. Barely a trace of blood as the man sagged forward onto his rifle.

  Abandoning the blind, D reached into his pocket for his phone and dialed.

  “If you’re calling to change our terms, they’re nonnegotiable,” came Mendez’s frigid voice. “My men are already en route.”

  “Good,” D replied. “I’ll be here waiting for them. I just wanted to let you know I unwrapped the presents you left for me.”

  Silence greeted his ears.

  “What—you thought I believed you when you assured me nobody would be here to ambush me?” D chuckled.

  “It wasn’t an ambush. It was a precaution.” Mendez sounded annoyed. “The one lesson I learned from our former association is that the word of Jason Hernandez means shit.”

  “Your word’s not exactly gold either. But it’s all right, Raoul. I forgive you this transgression. The meeting will go as scheduled.”

  D hung up and checked his watch. The chopper would be landing in thirty minutes. He used his second phone to send Macgregor a brief message: “Going dark now. Will make contact once terms are reached.”

  Then he crushed the phone beneath his boot, kicked away the broken pieces, and covered them with dirt. The body he left in plain sight. He didn’t give a shit who found it.

  He checked the battery of his last remaining cell phone, the one that nobody but he and Mendez had the number of. He’d already ditched the phone with Morgan’s tracking device. He’d just destroyed the one that could lead anyone back to Liam. Which meant he was all set. Only thing left to do was get on the chopper.

  Once he got to Isla del Rey, he’d have to play it by ear.

  Fuck, the thought of going back there made him edgy. He’d hated every single second he’d spent on that godforsaken island, all the insufferable socializing he’d been forced to do. His favorite thing about his Jason Hernandez persona had been that the man was known to be antisocial. Jason didn’t make friends or have beers with “the boys.” He distributed drugs, period. He was all business, all the time.

  Gaining access to Mendez’s inner circle had required he change it up. Raoul Mendez was all about excess. Lavish parties on his yacht, an endless parade of women, a perpetual flow of champagne—aka D’s idea of a living nightmare. He’d had no choice but to play along, though. He’d attended the parties. Fucked the women. Drunk the champagne.

  Christ, he’d hated it.

  Slinging the rifle strap over his shoulder, he rose from the blind and hiked back to the SUV. It took five minutes to drive to the airfield, and when he pulled up in front of the hangar, a mustached man in brown coveralls strode out of it, greeting D with a frown.

  “You Hernandez?” the man called out.

  D nodded.

  “Your ride will be here shortly.” Still frowning, the man turned around and walked back in the hangar.

  D lit a cigarette and tilted his head to the sky. It was clear and blue, not a single cloud in sight. Shit. A beautiful sunny day . . . always a bad omen.

  As he smoked in silence, his mind drifted to Sofia and the good-bye they’d shared at the safe house. The kiss.

  His stomach roiled just thinking about it. The feel of another person’s mouth on his . . . it made him queasy. He’d never kissed a woman without it being part of a mission. He hadn’t kissed Noelle. Hadn’t kissed any of the others he’d slept with.

  But when Sofia had kissed him, it had evoked a strange sense of longing. For one fucked-up moment, he’d truly wished he could give her more. That he could be the kind of man who actually stood by the woman he’d knocked up.

  D sucked hard on his cigarette. Jesus. In seven months there’d be a kid with his DNA out there in the world.

  He swiftly banished the thought before he repeated last night’s pathetic failure and threw up again. He was doing the right thing, staying as far away as he could from that child. Sofia would be a good mother—he had no doubt of that. She was smart, compassionate, resourceful. She’d be just fine without him.

  Besides, her concerns about Mendez killing him? One hundred percent valid. The moment he’d set up the meeting, D had known he probably wouldn’t walk away from it alive. He knew how Mendez operated, and he also knew exactly what the man would demand: a package deal. Sullivan in exchange for Angelina and D.

  D was fully prepared to give him what he wanted. Self-preservation had always been his number-one priority, but not at the expense of a teammate. Sullivan’s life was worth a hell of a lot more than his, and D was willing to pay the ultimate price to save his teammate.

  A rumble of sound made his shoulders stiffen. For a second he thought it was helicopter rotors, because he was expecting a goddamn helicopter, and it took a second to register that it was a car engine. He cursed when a cloud of dust rose in the distance. A moment later, a vehicle sped through the gate.

  A white Range Rover.

  Ash had shown up in a white Range Rover last night.

  Son of a bitch.

  What the fuck was the rookie doing here?

  D drew his pistol and aimed it at the approaching car. He didn’t care if he had to put a bullet in Ash’s knee. The kid wasn’t coming on that chopper with him. No fucking way would he let—

  D growled an expletive when the driver’s face came into view.

  Sofia.

  Jesus Christ. Sofia was behind the wheel.

  A rush of panic nearly knocked him off his feet, then propelled him forward. His mind was spinning as he raced toward the Range Rover. Why hadn’t Ash or Liam called to warn him she was coming?

  Fuck. Because he’d gone dark. Because he’d ditched his goddamn phone and they didn’t have the number to his burner.

  He reached the vehicle and threw open the driver’s door before Sofia had even put the car in park.

  “Turn around,” he snapped. “Right fucking now, Sofia. Turn around and drive back to the safe house.”

  “Only if you come with me,” she blurted out.

  Her green eyes shone with concern, but it was nothing compared to the concern—no, the fear—coursing through his blood at the moment. The chopper was landing in twenty minutes. He had to get her out of here before that happened. She couldn’t be here.

  She. Couldn’t. Be. Here.

  “I saw your face when you left.” Her voice rang with urgency. “I saw it. You’re not planning on getting out of this alive, are you?”

  “You can’t plan whether you live or die,” he shot back. “You either do or you don’t.”

  “But you expect to die.”

  “I expect to reunite with an old enemy. Anything more than that, I don’t fucking know. So please, just go. You need to go right now, Sofia.”

  Anguish clung to her voice. “He’ll kill you.”

  “Then I’ll die. But Sullivan will live, and that’s good enough for me. It should be good enough for you, too. Or do you want him to die? Is that it?”

  “No,” she stammered. “But—”

  “But nothing. The trade will go down how it goes down. I can’t see the future. I don’t know what Mendez will do. But I know what I’m going to do, and that’s get my teammate out of the hellhole he’s been trapped in for six fucking months.” Frustration burned a path up his throat. “The helicopter will be here soon.” He growled again. “What the hell possessed you to think coming here would be a good idea?”

  She let out a breath. “Okay. You’re right. In hindsight, it was a really bad decision.”

  “You fucking think?”

  His incensed tone made her flinch. “I’m sorry. I . . . panicked. I was worried about you—”

  “You don’t need to worry about me!” he roared. “What you need to do is leave. Now.”

  No sooner had the words left his mouth than his burner phone rang.

  Shit.

  “Wait,” he commanded, before she could put the car in drive.

  Sofia froze.

&nb
sp; The fear in his veins flowed faster, got colder. Trying to control his breathing, he answered the call with a curt, “Yes?”

  “Who is she?” Mendez asked.

  D’s stomach dropped.

  A flash of movement from the hangar caught his peripheral, and D turned to find the man in the coveralls emerging from the shadowy space. There was a Bluetooth device lodged in his ear and a rifle in his hands, aimed directly at the Range Rover.

  The man belonged to Mendez.

  Self-directed fury slammed into D’s chest. Damn it. He’d slipped up. He should’ve taken care of the asshole before he’d approached Sofia’s car, but he hadn’t been thinking. He’d been too busy freaking the fuck out, and now Mendez had been alerted to Sofia’s presence.

  “She’s nobody,” D said coldly. “Just some bitch who needed directions.”

  Sofia winced again.

  “I see.” There was a pause, the muffled sound of voices, and then Mendez returned. “My associate informed my men that the conversation seems very heated for someone who’s just looking for directions.”

  “Your associate is wrong. That’s all this is.”

  “All right. Well, then you won’t mind taking care of it, will you?”

  Fuck.

  “Because my helicopter will be arriving shortly, and I’m afraid there can’t be any trace of this pickup,” Mendez said. “She needs to be taken out. Would you like to do it, or shall the honor fall to Diego?”

  D’s free hand curled into a tight fist. He looked at Sofia, whose wide eyes were glued to the man by the hangar. Damn this woman. Damn her. He’d never had anyone give a shit about him before, and it infuriated him that her misguided concern had brought her here.

  “You got me,” he muttered into the phone. “She’s a colleague.”

  Sofia’s gaze flew to his, her mouth parting in a startled O.

  “That’s what I thought.” Mendez chuckled. “She comes with you, then.”

  D swallowed, desperately trying to think of a way out of this clusterfuck, but Mendez went on before he could say a word.

  “Please don’t think about doing anything foolish, Jason. Diego has an open line to the chopper. If anything happens to him, they’ll know, and then I might decide to kill my prisoner. You know, the prisoner you’re so eager to get your hands on? And if anything happens to the men on my helicopter, I’ll know, and then I’ll absolutely kill the prisoner. So, like I said, don’t be foolish.” Mendez paused. “She comes with you.”

  Mendez hung up.

  D drew another ragged breath. He’d considered that very option—killing Diego, sending Sofia away, and boarding the chopper. But now his hands were tied.

  He stared at Sofia, making a valiant effort to control his anger. Nope, he couldn’t throttle her. She was a woman. She was pregnant. But she’d just complicated his life more than she would ever know.

  “Get out of the car,” he ordered.

  She didn’t move.

  “Get out of the fucking car.” His breathing went shallow. His mind worked overtime, seeking solutions. But there was no escape. Short of killing Diego and then every man on that bird—and effectively killing Sully—he had to play the new hand he’d been dealt.

  “Why?” Sofia whispered.

  “Because he wants you to get on the chopper with me.”

  Her cheeks turned ashen.

  “You think I like this?” D hissed out. “Because I don’t. You shouldn’t have come here, but here you are, and now we’re fucked. So for the love of God, get out of the car.”

  Sofia’s entire body trembled as she shut off the engine and slid out of the SUV. D grabbed her arm to steady her, then brought his mouth close to her ear. “You need to go along with every single word I say, understand?”

  She nodded, looking even paler.

  “Now take a deep breath. You look like you’ve seen a ghost. You look weak.” His sharp accusation made her eyes blaze. “Good, get angry. That’s how you should look. You’re a government operative, you hear me? You’re not scared of these men. You’re not scared of anyone, got it?”

  Her breasts rose beneath her tank top as she inhaled deeply. The fear in her expression dissolved, and when fortitude took its place, D couldn’t help but be impressed. He’d known Sofia Amaro for years. She was tough as nails when she needed to be.

  And right now, he needed her to be.

  “If you follow my orders and play along, there’s a chance we’ll get out of this alive. If you don’t, then we’re as good as dead. Do you understand?”

  She nodded.

  He shifted his stance, angling his body just slightly so that it wouldn’t be noticeable to the man at the hangar. “Now take the gun out of my waistband and slide it under yours. Slowly. No sudden movements.”

  Sofia did as she was told, her small hand grabbing hold of his spare handgun. D watched Diego the entire time, satisfied when the man’s expression didn’t change. Mendez’s people would know Sofia was armed, but that didn’t matter. They’d expect it. D just needed to make sure she was, for his own peace of mind.

  “You know how to use a gun?” he demanded.

  “Yes.”

  “Good. If you need to use it, you don’t hesitate. You shoot to kill. Understand?”

  She offered a nod in response.

  D clenched his teeth. “I need to hear you say it.”

  “I understand,” she said firmly.

  “Good,” he said again.

  Their gazes held for one long moment, and then they walked toward the landing strip to wait for the helicopter.

  Chapter 14

  Liam was pacing the master bedroom of the safe house when his phone rang. He dove for it like a frickin’ Olympian, breathing in relief when he saw Ash’s name on the display. For the past thirty minutes he’d been telepathically ordering the rookie to call him back with some good news.

  “She got on the chopper with D,” Ash reported.

  So much for good news.

  “Jesus Christ! How did you let that happen?” Ash had been tailing Sofia in Liam’s SUV, using the GPS in Sofia’s Range Rover. He should have caught up with her long before she’d reached the airfield.

  “I couldn’t go in.”

  “Why the hell not?”

  “Because critical shit was going down. Some thug was holding a gun to them, D got a phone call, and the next thing I know, he and Sofia are walking to the helipad. I would’ve jeopardized them, jeopardized Sully, if I engaged.”

  Liam’s chest tightened at the sound of Sully’s name, but he forced himself to focus. “Wait—D had his phone on him? He said he was going dark. Why the fuck didn’t he pick up when we called to tell him Sofia was gone?”

  “No clue.” Ash paused. “So what now?”

  He gritted his teeth, then said, “Now we stick to the plan. D will take care of Sofia. We’ll watch the hostage until D secures Sully’s release. Get your ass back here.”

  “Roger that.”

  Liam disconnected the call and glanced at the bed, where Angelina Mendez lay on her back with one wrist handcuffed to the bedpost. The woman’s skirt had ridden up and was bunched around her upper thighs to reveal long, tanned legs. She really was smoking hot. He wondered if D had tapped that. It had sure looked that way last night when he’d been mauling her up against the car.

  Liam wasn’t interested in following in D’s footsteps, though. He didn’t give a shit how hot the woman was—Angelina Mendez was nothing but a means to an end to him. And it was time the two of them had a little chat.

  He sat at the edge of the mattress and lightly slapped her cheek, hoping to stir her from the sedation. He’d given her only a small dose earlier, enough to knock her out for an hour, two max. He was fully aware that he was going against D’s instructions, but he didn’t give a shit about that either.

  His best friend had been missing for six months. This woman had been an accomplice to that. End of story.

  “Wake up,” he murmured.

  Her
eyelids twitched beneath his fingertips.

  “That’s it, darling. Wake up for me.”

  A soft sigh escaped her lips. For several seconds her eyelashes fluttered, until finally her eyes slitted open.

  He watched her face as she became cognizant of her surroundings. Of him. When her mouth parted in outrage, he slammed his palm over it.

  “Uh-uh, you’re not going to scream. And if you try to head butt me again, I’ll head butt you right back this time. I’ve been told I have a thick skull, so we wouldn’t want that perfect nose of yours to shatter. Would we?”

  She frowned.

  “Now I’m going to take my hand off your mouth, and you and I are going to talk. Quietly. Sound good?”

  He slowly removed his hand, and his eardrums were happily greeted by the sound of silence. Liam grabbed the water bottle from the bedside table and twisted off the cap.

  “Here. Drink.”

  She dutifully swallowed the water he poured into her mouth, but didn’t look happy about it. “Where’s Jason?” she demanded.

  Liam set the bottle aside. “He and your father are discussing the terms of your release.”

  Angelina snorted. “Papa won’t discuss a damn thing with Jason. He’ll kill him on sight.”

  He raised a brow. “At your expense?”

  She mulled it over for a second. “Yes.”

  Which was like a punch to the gut, because if Mendez’s daughter believed her own father would forsake her just to get revenge on D, then that was a grim omen about Sullivan’s fate.

  Liam tamped down his rising apprehension. “I want to know what your father did to him.”

  “Jason?” Her features twisted in anger. “Papa treated him like a son. He welcomed him into his home, gave him a job—”

  “Not Jason. Sul— The prisoner.” Liam quickly corrected himself, not wanting to endanger Sullivan’s life by revealing his identity. “The man your father was holding in his dungeon.”

  Angelina smirked. “I have no idea who you’re referring to.”

  Frustration had his hand shooting out and curling around her throat. “Don’t play games with me right now, darling. Trust me, I’m not exactly feeling . . . stable at the moment.” He tightened his grip. “Piss me off and I might lose control, snap this pretty neck of yours.”