by Rie Warren
Urban culture, high-end stores, and underground youth bucking the system made this city a mecca of the Middle East despite the ever-present danger.
Daytime in Beirut. Not a joyride for someone in my line of work, but doable. And it was warm for February, compared to DC or NYC or Wyoming.
My first goal? Make sure I could hide in plain sight. I’d performed a quick clean up in a stream on the way toward town, the cold water bracing and clear. Concealed in the shadowed corner of a back alley, I ripped off the guard gear, tossed it into an overflowing bin, and changed into daytime threads consisting of jeans, boots, shirt, and jacket. Gone were the days of the traditional blousy sirwal pants.
In my Western clothing, I wrapped a couple woven scarves around my head, neck, and lower face. Wouldn’t do to get recognized and picked up by the Mukhabarat motherfuckers.
They didn’t think very highly of me.
My file was probably a yardstick thick.
Guns and knives placed where I could get at them with a flip of my hands, I wandered without looking like an aimless tourist until I hit an Internet café.
Bingo.
The place was called Battleground Beirut.
Fitting. It was like it almost called my name.
And heaven came in the form of a hot cup of kahweh. Hated to break it to the Americans, but no one did coffee like the Lebanese. The rich brew lightly spiced with cardamom almost felt like an orgasm on my tongue.
Didn’t take much after the night I’d had. And the night I reckoned was in store for me ahead.
Yessir. Juan Valdez had nothing on this shit. Although Colombian beans came a close second.
I gulped the burning brew down, then slowly nursed a second coffee as the caffeine kickstarted my system. I cracked my knuckles, cracked my neck, and studied my little computer terminal, considering WWJD?
What Would Jade Do?
Goddamn Jade Huntington. The woman was a highly trained professional, one not to be messed with. Her assassination skills put most operatives to shame. She could get in, make the kill, and disappear like vapor. It didn’t hurt she was walking, talking sex in the flesh with her long claret-black hair, her figure tight and coiled with power, her lush lips, and immense green eyes.
She and I had come to heads on more than one occasion, working opposite angles. We were two for two when it came down to covert missions. Not that I was keeping score.
Not. At. All.
The last time had been right after Hunter’s and my master fuck up, followed by a Hail Mary save of the operation with the Tampa Bay Outlaws the previous spring. T-Zone cut Hunter loose, reluctantly, but they hadn’t cut me any fucking slack at all.
Flying off to Somalia where the action never abated, I’d had the bad fortune to come up against Jade while we battled to derail each other’s mission. Mine to kill the drug- and gunrunning warlord, hers to get him to a sanctioned safe haven.
She’d always been a hardliner.
But I was harder.
Except when it came to her, more and more.
“Admit it. You’d miss me if you killed me, mahasani.” I’d grinned, standing braced in front of her.
The bomb-blasted stone walls of the apartment block showed new damage from us throwing one another around during the twenty-minute close-hand combat that had us sweating in the sweltering Somali heat.
“I could rectify that right now if you wish.” Jade’s hair had fanned around her in a perfect dark halo when she hit me in the chest with a roundhouse kick.
I’d laughed, a breathless chug of sound, the impact of her foot sending me backward. “But you won’t.”
“You’re an arrogant prick.”
Her chest heaved.
Her eyes flashed.
She’d curled her fists, ready to go at me again.
“Got a big cock for you. No need to call me names.” I’d hefted my meat, rapidly swelling in my pants.
Seemed like nothing got me off anymore but danger and death threats. And the thought of Jade.
“Ha! I’ve used weapons bigger than that, and I’m not interested.” She taunted me with her fingers held up in challenge.
A flash of anger at her response hit me, but if she’d been easy I wouldn’t have wanted her with this intensity. This sudden insanity.
And I was done fighting her. The fight was over.
I’d relaxed, muscle by muscle, limb by limb, easing back from her.
“I win?” Her head had cocked curiously.
“Not this time. General Raage Guuleed Osman? He’s dead.” I took out my miniature earpiece and smashed it on the floor. “Bane made the kill ten minutes ago.”
Bane. They should name a lethal drug after the quiet killer. I was glad he was on my side. The fucker literally had no emotions. Possibly no allegiance either.
“Yanks are not always right,” Jade had hissed.
“No shit? But I am.” I’d prowled toward her, easily relieving her of the gun while my lips skimmed up the glistening length of her neck. “And you want me.”
Vulnerability had raced across her usually unreadable irises. “What did that word mean, what you called me? Mahasani?”
“I’ll tell you next time,” I purred.
The stakes were higher every time we butted heads because it wasn’t just The Job. Desire, and need, anger, hate, greed all combusted when we came together.
Bet that woman could suck cock just as well as she could cock a gun.
And nothing was hotter than Jade with her Beretta pointed at my head.
I obviously had some kind of sick, twisted fantasies. I blamed it on the lifestyle.
Fighting had never been so sexual. The blows she laid on my body, launching herself against me. Fuck, that shit made me feel high. The punching, the hitting, the slapping and scratching . . . talk about foreplay.
Sweating, breathing heavy, wanting to go at her with no armor or guns or clothes between us. No subterfuge or missions or outside demands.
Not that I’d ever admit to anyone else I wanted to bed her, fuck her, drill her right through a wall with my cock slamming inside her tight, hot cunt.
In this world where we abided by no rules, there was only one rule. You don’t fuck someone from the opposition.
You fuck them up.
Great. Sitting here, marooned in the middle of Beirut, my prey at large with a female who was my enemy, and all I wanted to do was search the Internet for some porn so I could stroke one out.
Walking, talking stereotype much?
There was one sure way to shutdown these thoughts. All I had to do was close my eyes and remember a different woman with night-black hair and beautiful eyes so dark brown they appeared onyx at times. The stab of pain was immediate and almost debilitating before I could close away the memory in the dark closet of my mind.
I wiped a bead of sweat from my forehead, uttering a low curse. Regaining focus, I drank the coffee that had gone thick and syrupy, drumming at the keyboard through every single back channel I could tap into. Pretty boy Justice wasn’t the only one capable of hacking a system.
Hours later, I huddled in a shitty, scurvy, possibly rat-infested hotel room—the cheapest, dirtiest I could find. This wasn’t fancy fucking James Bond shit. No Hilton for me. Not if I wanted to stay off the radar.
I’d eaten a couple of MRE rations and sat at a closed, nailed-down window, watching the light change. Fighting off fatigue, I checked my ammo, mapped my route, silently got back into all-black gear.
Nothing new really.
Not neutralizing the target was not an option.
Night fell, but the city was still alive. I slipped through the streets, undetected.
By land, water, or air . . . WWJD?
The unconventional, of course. Majedah Chehab’s life was in danger because of me, and Jade wouldn’t leave her charge or be stupid enough to remain in Lebanon.
I couldn’t risk Jade putting an ocean between us.
No surprise, her eminence had her own private boa
t launch on the Mediterranean, off the record.
I got into place and just had to wait them out.
The sound of footfalls had me perking up from my berth on the luxury speedboat. The Dartline 60 must’ve been custom built, the sleek black lines of the hull providing excellent camouflage for a nighttime escape. I remained screwed tight as a cork inside the cabin located at the stern while the sound of feet clanged just outside the hatch door.
Noise and voices traveled—Jade and Majedah, arguing while the boat rocked gently. Then the forward thrust of the high octane, aerodynamic boat racing toward open water and the possibility of freedom I couldn’t wait to destroy.
“What about zat man last night?” Majedah’s voice floated toward me.
“Who? Walker? No threat.”
Bullshit.
“You know heem?”
“He won’t be an issue, Sheikah.”
Double bullshit.
Softly treading up to the door, I eased it open an inch and peered out. I’d barely snuck a look when the rattle of machine gun bullets whistled through the air. The sides of the boat took the impact from incoming artillery, metal grating against metal.
“Hostile fire! Get down, Sheikah!” Jade swung around, pushing Majedah to the floor while the captain of the speedboat gripped the wheel and looked just about ready to shit himself.
After making fast work of slamming open a sleek silver case, Jade hoisted an RPG-7 onto her shoulder.
Had to hand it to the woman, she always came prepared.
I sped onto the deck, hefting my Smith & Wesson next to her. “Need backup?”
“What the bloody hell are you doing here?” she yelled, a scowl forming between her eyebrows as she took aim at the fast approaching boat.
“Fire now. Talk later. Yeah?”
“Sounds like a plan.” She let loose, the recoil of the RPG shuddering through her arm before she shoved another grenade into the launcher.
Water sprayed around the torpedo shaped stern of our boat. It was full dark, and the explosions from both sides lit the sky like fireworks detonating over the ocean.
While Jade blasted the lightweight watercraft again—sending bodies flying through the air—I steadied my aim. Arrowing in on the fuel line of the boat gunning for us, I unleashed a volley of bullets. With mere meters to spare before head-on collision, my bullets hit payload. The boat burst into flames rising from black clouds of smoke.
Too bad the sinking, smoldering vessel wasn’t the only shark on the water. Three more speedboats raced for us, the flak coming in fast and heavy. Metal hail rained all around us.
Great. All we needed now was a little air raid to complete the bad juju scenario.
“Give me a weapon.” Majedah crouched between Jade and me.
“You trust her?” I leaned across, grabbing Jade’s shoulder.
“More than I trust you.”
“Big surprise.”
Sliding my spare S&W into Majedah’s palm, I warned, “You plant a bullet in me, and I will bring on the pain.”
She narrowed her eyes at me as she checked the revolver’s fully loaded cylinder like a professional. “I am not merely an aristocrat.”
“No shit?” I aimed low, punching holes into the nearest boat’s hull.
Another one crested the white wave at our rear, and the captain of our vessel took a slug in the chest. He went down like a dead weight, snagging the wheel on the way. By the time his body hit the deck, our boat had spun, putting us directly in the path of incoming relentless fire.
I jumped toward the controls. “Brace yourselves!”
Waves spun like whirlpools around us. Hauling on the wheel, I pointed us in the correct direction, shooting over my shoulder as the boat righted itself. The powerful engine roared, and we rocketed full throttle away from the other boats that kept up their hot pursuit.
A chopper swooped overhead, adding red flashes of gunfire.
“How many agencies are after her?” I shouted to Jade above the thunder of helicopter rotors above.
“Including you?”
Fuck me.
“Yeah.”
“All of them.”
Fuck me harder.
A sudden concussive explosion from the coast rocked all the way to the boat. The wheel spun in my hands, slippery and wet as I lost my footing. Shockwaves rolled beneath us, sending Jade half over the side of the boat.
Leaving the controls, I raced to her before she went overboard. “Hardly the time for a swim, Jade.”
She glared at me as I slung her back on deck in my arms. I set her on her feet, and her gaze flickered from me to the dark gray cloud of smoke mushrooming into the night sky from the shoreline.
I held my hands briefly in the air, gun and all. “Wasn’t me. All my precious toys were confiscated.” Reloading with precise motions, I said, “Except for this baby, that is.”
The rapid beat of the helicopter hovering above drew Jade’s head up. The lights beaming down captured the proud contours of her face, the slant of her eyes, the sweep of her thick, sooty eyelashes.
“Friends of yours?” She flipped those brilliant green eyes back to me.
Fucking Jade.
So gorgeous.
I’d totally do time for her. But not this time.
“Better hope so.” Ducking into the cabin, I chucked my pack on deck.
Grabbing all our gear in one hand, I wrapped an arm around Jade’s waist, hauling her to me.
Her arms wound around me as ropes from the Sikorsky slithered to the deck at our feet.
Not a second too soon, Majedah seized one of the cords, deftly wrapping it around her waist when given the nod from Jade. With Jade in my arms, I yanked on the rope curled around my fist just as a hot missile slammed the side of our boat—splintering the fiberglass sides and shooting flames into the air.
We dangled midair above the destruction for several breathtaking moments before the guys started cranking us up.
I glanced at Jade who stared at me with slightly less loathing than usual.
Hugging her to me, I murmured in her ear, “And you’d still miss me if I died.”
Chapter Five
Stuck in a Hot Tin Can
NO SOONER DID JADE, Majedah, and I roll into the cargo area of the Pave Hawk than the squawk-talk started up from Justice and Bane—who’d been waiting in the wings—and Storm over the in-flight coms.
The risk and rescue over, and now I have to listen to this shit?
I wanted to pull a Van Gogh move and cut my own ears off.
I lounged to the side while they all went at it. I leaned out the open aft sliding door, watching Beirut disappear, giving it the old sayonara fuck-you-times-two salute.
“What the fuck is she doing here?” Bane pointed at Jade.
Yep. That Jade. She sure made friends everywhere she went.
“You missed your fucking exfil and almost made me land in Beirut, asshole.” Storm chewed me out over the intercom.
“Never mind Jade.” Justice skimmed his hands across his blond crewcut. “What the hell is Majedah Chehab doing here? You were supposed to dust her.”
“I should just take her out now.” Bane unholstered his Sig Sauer.
He was not the friendliest of fellas, I had to admit.
Jade held my attention though. She shot in front of Madge with a fierce scowl. “Go through me to get to her.”
Bane hardly hesitated. He lifted the pistol and aimed point-blank at her heart.
I figured I probably ought to intervene, because Jade had her balls out and Bane had his dick out, and those two would probably just prefer to kill each other than get to the bottom of things.
“What say we all disarm?” I sauntered between the pair, shoving Bane back a step or two.
“You didn’t even call us in,” he complained, emptying his cache of weapons in the middle of the floor.
“What the fuck you whining about? You got two freakin’ days off.”
“I was bored.” The scar a
t the side of Bane’s mouth lifted when he tilted his lips in a half-smile.
“The brass knuckles too. And you, Justice, the shuriken.” I pooled my revolver with the others on the floor then pointed at Jade. “You are not exempt. And I need the gun back, Madge.”
“Madge?” The little lady from Lebanon quirked her head at me.
“MADGE?” Jade choked with straight-up fury.
“You heard me.”
Madge produced my borrowed gun, and it joined the others. I waited with a tap of my foot for Jade to comply.
Standing with her hands on her hips, she got all lippy with me. “This is my operation, Walker. You do not get to take control.”
“I just saved your ass, so yeah, I do.” I stalked toward her, meeting her stance.
“Have I told you yet how much I hate you? You’re overbearing”—she pushed at my chest. I didn’t give an inch—“arrogant. Stupid, knobhead, a danger to yourself and oth—”
Pulling her to me, I angled my head. She let out a gasp just before my mouth slid across hers. With one hand at the back of her neck and the other grasping her hip, I drove deep inside, my tongue finding the lush soft twist of hers. Arcane need howled through my veins. My cock woke way the fuck up, practically trying to burrow out of my pants and straight into her pussy.
Two years.
Two years I’d wanted her mouth. Her body. I’d wanted to kill her, fuck her, get her naked, listen to her scream, and work her out of my system once and for all.
I dragged back after one last lash with the tips of our tongues touching.
No one spoke.
The bastards fucking stared. I could feel them drilling holes into my back.
Screw them.
“And you talk too fucking much.” I licked my lips for one last taste of Jade.
Damn. She tastes good.
Her mouth popped open—slick and a little swollen.
I placed my fingertips over her lips. “Dis-fucking-arm before I really make out with you.”
She bent over to unsheathe a hidden knife, and I swatted her ass.
“That should keep you quiet.” Hell, I could die a happy man now.
