Mayhem's Warrior: Operation Mayhem

by Lindsay Cross

  If he’d seen them go into the room and knew about the escape tunnel, he’d be redirecting his men to the hatch in the woods. Maybe they were already standing there, ready to blow his brains out and take Caroline back for their experiments.

  The thought turned his stomach sour, not because he was scared of dying, but because he didn’t want their hands on her.

  But you’re going to use her for the same thing they will—

  “Yes?” he ground out, ignoring the thought.

  “Thank you.”

  Reaper closed his eyes and leaned his head against the bar he clutched, something that might have been guilt nudging at the hole where his heart used to be. She really did think he’d come to save her. It was obvious from the way she kept looking at him with something like hero worship in her big, blue eyes.

  Blue eyes he could get lost in.

  Fuck. What the hell was he thinking? He didn’t care about her. He didn’t want her. He didn’t need her. Well, he did need her blood. She was the only way he would be able save his team. He couldn’t start going all soft just because she was grateful he’d gotten her out of that lab.

  They kept moving upward at a snail’s pace. Maybe if he climbed faster she’d get the hint. There wasn’t any room for her irrational phobia in a place like this, not if they wanted to escape with their lives. He let go and quickly spanned the three bars between them, only stopping when his face was level with the back of her thighs. A sweet, heavenly scent filled his nostrils, and his cock hardened like a rock. He trembled. That had been a mistake. Caroline drew a sharp breath and heat poured from her body in waves that had his eyelids going heavy. Fuck, she smelled good.

  She smelled so good he wanted to stay in this godforsaken tunnel just so he could be close to her. He wanted to part that gown and bury himself inside her. Every instinct inside of him called for him to do just that. Take her like an animal.

  “Reaper?”

  Reaper took in a deep breath and crushed the rung in his grip, trying to use pain to focus his mind on anything but Caroline. “What?”

  “I am—never mind.” As if sensing the riot of urges rolling through him, Caroline moved swiftly upward, her soft calf muscle grazing his cheek. His mind flooded with images of those legs wrapped around his head.

  The sound of crunching metal reached his ears and he opened his eyes and uncurled his hands to stare down at the nearly crushed rung of the ladder. That was not good. He could not afford to have any type of urgency when it came to her. Not when her blood was the only thing that would ensure the survival of his team.

  He had to find a fucking way to squash these thoughts before they took over.

  She darted up the ladder like a rabbit, and the small distance she’d put between them helped him clear his head enough to follow. They moved in silence, Reaper ignoring the range of emotions rolling off the girl above him. Because of his enhancements, he could hear, see, and smell much better than average, but he’d never felt another person’s emotions before. It was almost like they were connected somehow. Could it be because Caroline’s blood was part of the serum that had changed him in the first place? Was it just his DNA recognizing hers? That had to be it because he didn’t know anything about her other than she’d been raised as senator’s daughter. He had nothing in common with her. He would’ve never even looked twice at her had they met under different circumstances. She was too pure. He needed a woman rough around the edges who didn’t mind being used.

  “I think we’re at the top,” she said.

  Fuck, there was no way he could leave that ladder without rubbing up against her soft body and satiny skin. The mere thought had his already aching cock throbbing. She was naked beneath that gown; he’d had plenty of opportunities to see her perfectly round ass. And if she had any idea that he could see in the darkness, she’d probably run for her life as soon as they got out because, God help him, he had not been able to get the sight of her slick folds out of his mind.

  His uncontrollable urges just pissed him off. He had to remember she was a tool. Maybe that was why his voice sounded harsher than he intended when he said, “Move down and to the side. I need to get above you.”

  “But there’s not enough room.”

  “Yes there is,” he said harshly. “Do what I said.”

  Thank God she held silent and did as he commanded. Reaper sucked in a breath, determined not to inhale her scent, and reached his arms around her waist, climbing upward. He had to practically squeeze past her as he climbed up, putting his cock in contact with her legs and then her back. He’d have to practically crawl over her.

  Sweat broke along his brow, and in his desperation he practically lunged for the circular handle overhead. He positioned himself so that his feet were just beneath her shoulders, her head cradled between his thighs. If Caroline climbed up so much as a step, her head would come into contact with his dick and Lord help them both if that happened. She must’ve sensed his desperation because she stayed right where she was, trembling and sweating just like he was.

  Reaper yanked the handle, metal crunched on metal as the solid lock slid open. Before he lifted the door, he closed his eyes and pushed his senses outward, searching for the slightest vibration in the air or the earth. There was a panther prowling about a mile away, and howler monkeys were yelling in the trees.

  There were no footsteps. However, there were human heartbeats. Almost ten of them.

  Of course Gen. Rainier had known about the exit.

  Ten to one—not insurmountable odds but not the best considering he was about to pop his head up out of this hole. It was like a game of Whack-a-Mole, only instead of a single sledgehammer-bearing teenager, he was facing ten guns for hire packing serious heat.

  The only thing he had working in his favor was the element of surprise. They had no idea when he’d emerge from that hole. All eyes would be focused on the lid.

  As soon as the men saw it shift vertically, he’d be dead.

  He’d have to go out hot and fast, relying on his highly trained senses to guide him. Even then, if he fired off one round per second, one of the soldiers could still take him out.

  His hand fell to his waist and wrapped around the grenade hanging from its holder. Good thing he’d come in packing some serious heat.

  “Caroline, they’re out there right now waiting on us to come out.”

  She gasped. “No, I can’t go back.”

  And she wouldn’t, not if he had any say in the matter. “I can take them out, but I need you to go back down the ladder.”

  “What? I can’t—don’t ask me to.”

  Reaper gritted his teeth and fought off a small surge of aggravation. He was used to his men following his commands without question. Until Mankel and his mind control. “I’m fixing to pop this lid and toss out a grenade. Do you really want to risk being knocked unconscious from the shock waves?”

  He could practically feel her frowning beneath her. “Of course not, it’s just that—”

  “I know—you’re claustrophobic, I picked up on that little fact right after we entered the tunnel. I’m not asking you to go all the way to the bottom, just down about ten feet so I know you’re protected.”

  He absolutely couldn’t take any risks with her life, not if he was going to save his team. She was more precious than the air he breathed and he’d do everything he could to get her back home safely.

  If only his men were here. He wouldn’t even have to explain his plan of action to them. They’d trained together so extensively that each of his men could read the others’ moves with almost zero communication.

  Before Project Mayhem they’d been one of the elite of the elite—beyond special forces or black ops—they’d been classified under GA, other government agencies. But now, thanks to Project Mayhem, they were nearly invincible together.

  Minus their Achilles heel. The serum.

  “Caroline, do what I said now. Ten feet.”

  She moved down one rung and stopped. “Reaper,
I’m scared. What if the grenade doesn’t kill all of them?”

  Of course it wouldn’t kill all of them. The only way his grenade would take out ten men was if they were standing around the hatch in a circle. Unless they were complete idiots, they’d be spread out on different levels and different distances with different weapons. At best, he could take out three, maybe four, and use the smoke as a distraction and camouflage. “I will take care of the rest of the men. You stay down here until I come back and get you.”

  “And if you don’t come back?” she whispered.

  That wasn’t an option. “I’ll be back.”

  He knew she wanted to argue, but she kept silent and descended. As soon as she was a safe distance away, Reaper pulled the grenade from his chest. He leaned his head to the right and then the left, rolling his shoulders in preparation for combat. Shit up there was about to get real ugly.

  Primed and ready to move, Reaper grabbed the overhead handle and yanked. He shoved it up just far enough to toss out the grenade before slamming it shut again. There were shouts and a couple of seconds later a boom rocked the tunnel. Caroline screamed.

  Reaper burst from the tunnel seconds later, gun raised and ready. The door slammed shut behind him. Smoke rolled around him, providing a thick, acrid haze. Camouflage. He’d gotten three men. A couple more were still alive but hadn’t gathered their bearings yet.

  He sensed movement behind him and dropped to the ground and rolled. A bullet whizzed a couple feet overhead the place he’d been standing moments before. On his belly, Reaper fired on instinct.

  It was a direct hit.

  But there were three more out there, the ones smart enough to know not to get close to him. One of the men caught in the blast was on the ground a small distance behind him. Reaper streaked across the dense, mossy ground, his heart pounding slow and steady in his chest as he embraced the adrenaline pumping through his veins. The fallen soldier’s hands were wrapped around his stomach as he lay on his side panting, waves of pain practically rolling off him.

  Like a ghost, Reaper ran through the smoke still lingering in the air, put a bullet in the man’s head, and disappeared into the tree line behind him.

  There was a whistling sound a split second before a bullet whizzed right past Reaper’s ear and thumped into the tree beside him. He hit the ground, forcing himself to breathe silently. He’d known there would be snipers out there, and his tactic had revealed the position of at least one of them.

  They already knew his location, so he didn’t have to worry about hiding right now. Still on his stomach, he pulled his pistol around in front of him and took out the other guard that had survived the blast. Easy as pie, his bullet found the guard’s head and the man stopped groaning.

  Two more bullets lodged into the tree directly over his head.

  Stupid. They should know better than to give away their positions by firing at him. With a lethal grin, he tucked his pistol into its holster and pulled his knife from its sheath. He put the blade in his mouth and bit down. Then, using the soft, spongy jungle floor, he began crawling backward from his location. He kept his movements too silent for the human ear to detect. Careful not to give away his location by accidentally brushing up against any tall plants, Reaper silently made his way across the jungle floor in the direction of the snipers.

  His front half was soaking wet from the moisture on the ground in the plants that were a permanent position in the hot humid air. He ignored the giant multicolored bugs crawling across the ground. A snake slithered beside him, but it soon took off in the opposite direction. The howler monkeys went silent. It was like the jungle sensed the threat from the man on the ground.

  As he drew nearer to the snipers, Reaper paused and listened. He could hear their hearts pounding in their chests, the heightened rhythm revealing their fears. They knew they had missed him, and they knew their chances for survival were growing slimmer by the second.

  Reaper craned his head back and stared hard at a giant hardwood tree twenty feet away. The branches started low and disappeared into the top of the thick canopy overhead.

  Highly trained and skilled snipers would know how to camouflage themselves in any situation. On the ground, they’d cover themselves in the local foliage, blending their bodies into the bushes and grass and whatever other vegetation grew around them. Perching in a tree, they’d be sure their bodies didn’t stick out too much. And the sniper overhead was doing exactly that. There was no telltale body part poking out, not even a leg hanging down.

  Despite that, Reaper’s hawk-like gaze narrowed in on the sniper’s rifle, which extended a few inches beyond his perch.

  The sniper was scanning his surroundings, his breathing coming faster now. He hadn’t spotted Reaper.

  Whether the guy knew it or not, he was already dead.

  The other sniper was harder to find. His gun wasn’t hanging out and he was much farther up. But he couldn’t stop himself from shifting his weight just once. And that one time was enough to seal his fate.

  With his sights homed in on the nearest sniper, Reaper took a breath and then pulled the trigger on the exhale. Without hesitation, he shifted his aim two inches to the left and pulled again. A gun blast sounded, not from his gun.

  He felt a dull thud in his left shoulder as he was tossed over onto his back.

  Adrenaline crowded into his system, numbing the immediate rush of pain. He pulled his hand away, dark and sticky with his own blood. Fuck. He should’ve taken out the farthest sniper first.

  5

  Caroline pressed her head against the metal rung of the ladder, cold sweat dripping down her temples despite the heat simmering through the tunnel. She fought hard against the panic battering her senses, but it was a losing battle.

  She had never had a true panic attack before, but she was smart enough to recognize the signs. Her heart was pounding so hard and fast that dizziness clouded her vision. Whatever tiny amount of air had been in the tunnel before had completely disappeared. She couldn’t breathe or even think.

  It seemed as though Reaper had been gone for hours and the utter and complete silence up above was a nightmare.

  It had been ages since she’d heard gunshots or screams or yells or anything. There was just silence. And the unknown was even more frightening. Had someone taken him out the minute he shut the lid? Was he bleeding out feet above her head? Even now, he could be dead or dying all alone.

  Like vultures, the guards could be circling the tunnel, waiting on her to come out. Coward that she was, she was frozen to the spot, her hand superglued to the ladder as she fought desperately not to pass out.

  This was how she was going to die—alone and in the dark. Unless they found her. And if they found her, they’d strap her to that tiny cot again and they’d drain her dry.

  The thought sent a shudder through her already overworked body.

  No, she had to focus. She wouldn’t let them take her back there; she’d rather die. What if she could help Reaper?

  Come on Caroline, don’t be a complete wuss now. Move.

  The thought screamed through her mind, but her body didn’t cooperate, not even an inch. Maybe she was focusing on too big of a task. She needed to narrow it down. Start small.

  Her harsh breathing masked out all other sound as she zeroed in on her fingers. She had to get them to unlatch from the ladder. Focusing hard on the tightly curled fingers on her left hand, she slowly loosened them, pain radiating through her joints from holding the white-knuckled grip for so long. She released her left hand’s hold. Okay, good job. Now the right.

  Her fingers slowly uncurled. Her head dropped back down to the ladder and she sucked in a deep breath, expending more energy than she thought just to do that.

  She tilted her head back, looking up even though she knew she wouldn’t be able to see an inch in front of her face. It was completely black, no hint of light. Nothing. Darkness squeezed around her, feeding her panic. But before she could let that helpless fear take hold, she gr
abbed the next rung on the ladder and pulled herself up. Focusing on the mechanics, Caroline put another hand up, and—

  She didn’t feel the next rung at first, and a surge of fear edged out everything else. What little control she’d managed to get over her lungs evaporated. She was panicking, gasping, clutching for the ladder. Dear God. She couldn’t do this.

  An image of her father flashed through her mind—he was sitting at his desk in rolled-up shirt sleeves and blue jeans. His smile was so relaxed and warm. Loving.

  And then that welcoming image was replaced with Reaper’s harsh and unyielding face. He wouldn’t let her give up if he were here. He’d tell her to fight. Punish these assholes. Was she really going to give up after he risked his life for her?

  Not today, she wasn’t. She felt for the next rung again, grabbed it this time, and yanked herself up. Crawling faster and faster. She had one goal in mind—get the hell out of this deathtrap.

  Her head slammed into the door overhead and tears pricked her eyes. “Ow!”

  Pain radiated through her skull again and she rubbed the spot where she’d hit the metal. She’d focused so much on escaping, she’d forgotten to stick her hand up and test overhead. But the pain was worth it. She’d reached her goal. Only a couple of inches of doorway blocked her from the outside air. Victory lapped at her nerves as she grabbed the handle and yanked.

  It didn’t budge. She yanked again and again. She braced her legs on the ladder and used both hands, throwing her entire body weight behind it. It still didn’t move.

  Panic surged through her veins and she shoved with all her might.

  The door was suddenly wrenched from her grip, and she floundered for the ladder, barely avoiding a backward plummet that would have killed her. Reaper’s savage face, highlighted by the bright, piercing sun behind him, looked down at her.

  “Oh thank God! Thank God you came back.” She was blubbering, but she didn’t care. Reaper had come back for her, and he wasn’t dead or dying. They were going to make it.