by Lea Griffith
Remi had known he would. She’d moved immediately.
It bubbled out of her before she could stop it, the sob rocking her off her foundation and sending her to her knees. Her conditioning had broken, it seemed, and from where had once flowed only ice, now white-hot lava roiled and ripped away her structured existence.
How could he have killed such a perfect child? How could he have killed so many?
This was hard. She’d blocked that memory, knowing she couldn’t survive if she kept it new in her mind. And it attacked her viciously now, the spray of the little girl’s blood as it arced toward Remi, the weight of her small body as it fell against Remi’s side. The child’s terror-filled gaze had landed on her just seconds before Minton’s gun had ripped a hole in her.
She had buried both of the young ones by herself and right beside . . .
Remi looked up and straight into Rand’s face. He knelt beside her. She hadn’t felt his presence. Locked in the grip of the memory, she had lost awareness. He stroked her face with his thumbs. She was crying—it felt rather like being torn apart.
“Don’t do this here,” he cautioned in a hard tone. His look was stern, his eyes much softer.
It allowed Remi to pick up the pieces and stuff them back together inside her. She wiped her face and stood, still not glancing at anyone else in the room besides Rand.
He stood as well and walked back to his chair, sat down wearily, but never released her gaze.
He held her with the force of his will, and she sank into him, let his strength be hers. Another deep breath, eyes locked on his, and the words rushed out.
“Joseph Bombardier is a killer with no remorse. His sole motivation is power. He eats, sleeps, and breathes it, and somewhere along the way to the top, he decided he’d like to have a bevy of assassins at his disposal. He determined the best way to do that would be to take young girls and hone them into weapons. He has been successful.
“None are more successful than First Team, but there are, as I’ve told you, at least twenty more squads out there, either fully trained or close to completion. He will send each and every one at you, me, whoever stands in his way or offers disruption to his life. They will die, knowing no other way to live because they’ve been conditioned to kill on command and protect Joseph with their last breath.
“The meeting in Arequipa is to discuss how to best handle either pulling First Team back in or eliminating us. He’s lost his hold on his most trained squad and will put the full force of The Collective into finding or eliminating us. There are four members of First Team. Me, Blade, Arrow, and Bone. We have killed and will kill again. It is all we know. Until Joseph Bombardier is wiped from the face of the earth, we will continue to haunt him.”
Remi breathed in deeply, fought the panic that came with giving away knowledge of Joseph, and spoke to the group, though her words were for Rand.
“I cannot promise that we will give you your shot, but I will share what I know about Joseph and allow you track my movements. I will share my knowledge, but when the time comes for The Collective to fall, Joseph Bombardier is ours. Do you hear me? He is mine, Blade’s, Arrow’s, and Bone’s to kill. If you get in our way, you will suffer. We will see him dead or die trying.
“So if you think to steal him from us, you are running a fool’s errand. My hope in coming here was to use Trident as a decoy, ‘bait’ I believe you called it, while at the same offering you an opportunity to watch us bring down The Collective. You each deserve that. Some of you more than others. Using you as bait will not be necessary now. Joseph is aware of what First Team has set in motion and has pulled in his resources, dug in hoping we will come to him.
“That was always our plan. Had we been forced to attack him on international ground, we would have needed Trident Corp’s reach and presence to ease our way. You would have been more of a distraction than anything. But he has done as we hoped. He has decided to taunt us by remaining in Arequipa. I rejoice at this, as I’m sure my sisters do. We were destroyed, rebuilt, trained, and survived there—Arequipa is inside us all, the lay of the land, the paths through the jungles and mountains. We know Arequipa and Joseph.”
Rand’s gaze was ice cold now. He hadn’t liked her words, but he’d known what to expect. He was probably the most intelligent individual she’d ever met. He’d read her from the beginning.
“You think you’re good enough to take down all the names on that list?” he asked in a low voice.
“I’m banking on the plays my sisters have put into motion to eliminate three-quarters of them. I have done my share, as well. The members have pulled into Arequipa out of fear. They look to Joseph for answers, and he will do his best to provide them with the heads of First Team. If he cannot, he will sacrifice the rest of The Collective in a bid to get away. There are places he hides that even we don’t know about. And he has something that is infinitely precious to us.”
“What? What does he have?” Nodachi’s voice sliced over her.
“Again, that is none of your business,” she began, and then stopped as a sly smile broke out on his face.
Something oily moved through Remi. Nodachi knew something he wasn’t sharing with the class. Blade had seriously underestimated Trident’s co-owner. The man couldn’t know about—
“It’s the boy, isn’t it?” Satisfaction threaded through his tone now, and everything in Remi went on alert.
She was in his face in a heartbeat. “What do you know of him?” she demanded, her hands on the arms of his chair as she leaned close.
Rand growled low in his throat. She didn’t look at him, didn’t spare a second to wonder what the hell he was upset about.
“Don’t touch her, Ken,” he bit out.
Ken smiled, and in it were all of Remi’s fears. “What do you know about the boy, Mr. Nodachi?”
Her blade found purchase against his throat, and his pupils widened.
“Put the knife down, Gretchen,” Rand commanded. She felt more than heard Dmitry and Adam moving in behind her. Rand hadn’t moved a muscle. She was so tuned to him, his every breath eased her. But not now.
He sneered. “I know nothing about the boy. I told you and your fucking Blade this.”
“And I would have sworn you told the truth. But I think you’ve made a liar out of me,” she whispered at his ear. The threat was implicit. Her blade rested directly over the cut her sister had put there days ago.
Remi sheathed her blade and stepped to the side, turning swiftly to encounter any threats from the other men. “I will not ask you again.”
“It’s good then because I don’t fucking know anything. The boy wasn’t there when we arrived, and the woman was dead.” It was elusive, but there was deceit in his tone.
A look passed between Adam and Nodachi. The deceit became a tangible thread. She’d have to warn Blade. With things steamrolling toward Arequipa, they needed to ensure the boy didn’t suffer.
He was, after all, one of them.
“I hope you do not, Mr. Nodachi. I would hate for you to be added to our kill list.”
“Goddamn it, Rand, get her out!” Ken stood then, body hardened and readying for war. Remi let her muscles go loose in preparation.
Rand nodded at her, and she inclined her head before sidestepping to the doorway.
“You have said one thing that resonates with me above all others, Mr. Nodachi: never trust killers.” With that, she turned and left, headed upstairs to grab her things.
If they were unwilling to listen, she was unwilling to remain. She was so close. Nodachi knew something about the boy, but there was no time. She needed to warn Blade. She pulled out her SAT phone and left a message, hoping against hope that Blade received it before Remi traveled to Arequipa.
“You’ve got to stop holding knives to our throats.” Rand’s wry tone had her head swiveling to the door.
“Stop being assholes, and the need for knives is eliminated.”
He walked to her, stopping mere inches from where she stood,
once again ready for battle. It was all she knew, that tightness in her muscles that let her know her heart still beat. That warmth in her belly at his nearness was not what she needed.
But it flowed outward, and before she realized it, her body had melted into his, her hands tangling in the ebony thickness of his hair. His breath whistled in, and she stood on tiptoes to brush her mouth over his.
He smelled of sandalwood and male. He tasted of ecstasy.
He grabbed her ass and she levered herself up, wrapping her legs around his waist and seating herself on the ridge of his hardened cock. Her head fell back as he pushed into the V of her legs.
“We can’t,” he said at her mouth. “Not right now. I have men coming, and we need to plan.”
“Plan for what?” she asked, biting at his lips.
“Arequipa.”
She stopped then, unhooked her legs and stepped away from him. Funny how just the thought of returning to hell could destroy even the hint of pleasure. She mourned the loss of her contact with him but it should be this way. She should have never touched him or allowed him to touch her in the first place.
There would be memories but having had him she knew the wanting would never stop. He would hate her once this was finished. It was a bone-deep knowledge. Better she not torture herself with what would never be hers.
“You’re right, of course,” she stammered out and looked out the window.
He sighed and the sound rippled through her. Regret and need bounced around her ears. Oh well.
“Come down in a bit. Give Ken some time to calm down. We’ll need everything you can give us about the compound.”
She watched the trees sway in the distance and wondered what it would be like to be so free. To move as you wanted, when you wanted. To fight the wind or let it stroke you as it wished.
“Yes. I’ll be down later,” she said softly.
The door closed, and Remi went to her knees and folded her hands. It had never worked before but maybe, just maybe, the one called God would listen now.
Chapter Twenty-Five
It had been two days of intensive research, and picking Gretchen’s brain, for any and all aspects of The Collective before Rand felt safe enough to secure travel plans for Arequipa.
Along with Ken, Adam, and Dmitry, they’d pulled in Raines and his men, as well as all of their operatives in the US. Total, there were forty men and Gretchen. He’d watched her over the last two days break down her rifle, clean, reconstruct, and shoot it more times than he ever wanted to again.
It broke his heart every time. Her eyes would close and she would leave the space she was in, seemingly transported to a different world where it was only her and the gun. He would never know what she’d been through, but even his wildest imaginings probably couldn’t touch her reality.
She wasn’t invincible, but she was pretty damn close. Stronger than he’d given her credit for, faster than he’d known, she was capable of hand to hand warfare that astounded him. She’d put each of his men, and him, on the ground several times during the last couple of days. Somehow she’d managed to only touch the floor three times. Rand had a feeling fatigue was the major part of that, though most times she seemed inexhaustible.
He’d stayed away from her at night. He needed the distance, though his body literally ached to feel hers against it in the dark hours of night. His hands clenched even now, desperate for the feel of her long red hair spilling over them.
She was hands down the best sniper he’d ever known. Raines, an expert marksman with the Marines, had commented he’d never heard of anyone with the accuracy and ability she’d demonstrated. Rand had researched her family and found nothing. Whatever she knew about them she kept close to her vest, but her ability with a rifle seemed innate. Almost as if she’d been born to it.
He watched as she walked from the house and down to the range, Raines and Dmitry following her. Raines had touched her shoulder yesterday, and it was only the fact that she’d immediately knocked his hand away that had saved the man from Rand.
Rand had been angry with himself for the possessive feeling. It didn’t matter that he was pissed at himself though, the feeling persisted. Watching as Raines followed her, the feeling moved through him again, only it was volcanic this time.
How in the fuck he’d managed to go from absolute hate to need of her in less than a month’s time, he had no idea. It baffled him. But it was unavoidable. She meant something to him. What, he didn’t delve into. She was important, and he cut his thoughts off there. His body ached for hers and even that was more than he cared to admit to himself.
He turned his thoughts even as his eyes tracked the subtle swing of her hips and the glossy sway of her hair. They would leave tomorrow. Flying into Cusco, Peru, they would take vehicles through the Andes Mountains and arrive in Arequipa within days. Gretchen had informed them she had a few contacts that weren’t loyal to Joseph, and would provide adequate travel and lodging. She’d warned it would be little more than huts in the cold of the mountains, but he’d shrugged.
Ken had kept his distance. Something was going on with the man, and Rand needed to find out what it was. He shook his head as Gretchen walked from sight, and then he headed to the house.
He found his best friend in the kitchen, staring out the large bay window that overlooked a barren backyard. In the distance was the lower gun range, and figures moved about, but it was impossible to make out who was who.
“We need to talk,” Rand said with no preamble. “What’s going on?”
Ken grunted. Rand rubbed the back of his neck.
Subterfuge had no place between them. They’d built Trident Corporation with the sole motivation of destroying Joseph Bombardier and The Collective. They’d helped countless families reunite with loved ones, and in some cases, they’d diverted disasters between countries. But their goal had always been to eliminate the entity that had cost them both so much.
Rand looked at his friend, really looked at him, for the first time in a long time. He was a taller version of Lily and had darker hair than his blonde wife, but their features were similar. The slightly up-tilted hazel eyes he’d shared with his sister had been a gift from their Asian mother. The lighter hair, straight nose, and full lips a gift from their Caucasian father. Both were statuesque. Lily had been slim and only slightly curved. Ken was tall, broad shouldered, with heavy musculature.
Gazing at his friend, Rand noticed that where once the similarities between siblings had been a painful reminder of what he’d lost, it was now . . . not. He’d loved Lily, worshipped the ground she’d walked on, but had never truly felt he’d deserved her perfection. Even her anger had made her more beautiful to Rand. Ken’s anger was equally as volatile as Lily’s had been, but now it grated on Rand, pushed every one of his buttons, and made him tense.
“What’s going on?” he asked again and searched for clues in Ken’s face and mannerisms.
He didn’t give anything away.
It all came back to one thing. Ken was hiding something from him. Something big.
Ken took a deep breath and finally glanced at Rand. “I’ve done something I don’t know how to undo.”
“What?” Every muscle on alert, Rand leaned forward, hands on the table, waiting.
Ken shook his head and sighed. “I’m not ready to share that, yet.” Another deep sigh, then “When do we leave?”
“If you don’t share, I can’t help. And I have a nasty feeling in my gut you’re going to need my help.”
“You can’t help me with this,” Ken murmured, and then looked back out the window. A long period of silence ensued. “Now, when do we leave?”
Rand ground his back teeth together. This wasn’t going to be good. For anyone. Ken had a history of being the calmest, most organized, introspective person Rand knew. If he’d fucked up somehow, it was probably huge. Because the man never messed up. He was probably due one.
“Tomorrow. We’ll fly into Cusco, take Jeeps to Arequipa. I’ve arranged
lodging in the Yanahuara Villa Hermosa which is about two kilometers outside the city. Gretchen says Joseph’s installation is in the mountains about thirty minutes outside of the city proper. Once everyone is in place, we’ll move.” Rand relayed the plans with no small amount of trepidation.
He was a soldier and had been on enough missions to realize all of them were unique. This one, though, held a promise of vengeance. So close . . .
“You mean she arranged lodging? Tell me, brother, when do you think you’ll wake up and realize she’s a killer?” Ken’s tone was bitter, and it raked across Rand’s nerves.
Rand looked away, anywhere but at the man who refused to trust him. He understood, good God in Heaven did he understand, but it boiled down to Ken trusting Rand, not Gretchen.
Rand breathed out heavily and relaxed his bunching muscles. “I won’t have this conversation with you again. Are you in or out?”
“Oh, I’m all in. Someone will have to be there to pick you up when she betrays you. I’ll watch your back since you seemed so disinclined to do it yourself.”
Rand got up, chair falling back to the ground, and reached into his back pocket. He threw a collection of papers down in front of Ken and strode away. It wouldn’t do to fight with him. Not right now.
There was a shit-load of stuff to do for tomorrow. Rand’s time was best spent preparing.
Remi walked into the house, and the shift in the air was noticeable. She’d spent the last two days training and teaching. Anything she could give them about Joseph, she had. At times, it had been harder than anything she’d ever known, but her conditioning under Joseph had never been so deep-set it was unbreakable. She’d simply always been waiting for the right time to break it.
“Gretchen,” Rand called from the library.
She stopped and hung her head. She’d managed to mostly avoid him over the past couple of days, and that had been a blessing. Oh, yes, her body craved him, but she’d hardened her heart against him somewhat and needed to keep it that way.
