by P. A. DePaul
Chapter 11
Cappy was going to hell.
The sight of Michelle’s perfect ass disappearing out the window was now permanently burned into his brain. He was such a bastard for avidly watching it wiggle as she forced her body through the tight opening.
Every nerve ending north of his toes still vibrated from touching her. Though he had sounded like a bumbling idiot earlier, he had meant it when he blurted out how amazing she looked; so healthy and whole. The antithesis of the bloody, broken woman damaged by the Osvaldo cartel in that shithole room six years ago. This beautiful, vibrant, sexy woman had his blood surging and his fantasies on overload. Her body was built for a man like him. For deep, hard sex, be it up against a wall or bent over a chair . . . Goddammit.
Straight. To. Hell.
Remember the mission. He couldn’t think of her in any other terms than professional. He had to find out if she killed the Senator’s son, for Christ’s sake. Not have her starring in his latest mental-porno-flick.
He pulled a disposable phone from his leg pocket and dropped it inside her overlarge bag. Once he zipped the thing closed, he called, “Heads up. Purse coming through.”
He gave it a little nudge over the sill, hearing it thud into her hands before he yanked the battery out of the back of her cell phone. Now she couldn’t be traced from the GPS in the device—which had been his plan if she hadn’t called him.
He dropped the pieces into his leg pocket for later disposal. Putting on his sunglasses, he ensured his gun holster wouldn’t knock into the edges of the frame, and slid soundlessly through the small opening, then closed the window. Turning, he half expected to find her gone, but she stood just to the left, chewing on her lip with fear lacing her irises.
“This way,” he whispered, grabbing her hand and motioning toward a grungy building next door.
The electricity from the contact instantly had him hard. He grunted and urged her forward. He pulled her around the back corner of a convenience store and stopped, shifting his hips to relieve the pressure.
“Cutting it too close, Cappy,” Talon admonished softly.
Michelle jumped, squealed, then slapped a hand over her mouth.
Yeah. Talon had that effect on people. He was so damn good at blending into the background, he caught most by surprise.
Cappy seized Michelle’s hand to stop her from inching backward. “Relax.”
Her eyes were as large as her face and she didn’t seem to be able to look away from his teammate. A sudden shot of jealously spiked through his veins. Stow that shit. He had no time for that destructive emotion and it was wrong on so many levels.
“Where’s the car?” he barked, jolting them all. Christ.
Engines raced into the parking lot next door and instantly shut off. Car doors opened, then slammed shut.
Cappy didn’t need to see his teammate’s eyes to know they were both thinking about how they had just barely made it. Michelle trembled underneath his palm.
“Car’s on the other side of the dry cleaners, as commanded.” Talon pointed to a building that had seen better days adjacent to the convenience store.
Dear God, who is this guy? Michelle couldn’t stop staring at the wicked knife with the onyx blade still protruding from SCK’s fist.
She shivered.
A male voice yelled from the hotel’s parking lot, “You two cover the back. White, start peering in windows. I’ll talk to the desk clerk.”
“Our signal to move,” Jeremy whispered, jerking her arm as he pulled her forward.
She ran as fast as she could but knew she wasn’t even close to the speed both men wanted. Tough darts. She didn’t live in a gym like them.
Did she do the right thing, calling Jeremy? She trailed behind the two men, still rattled by his blatant connection to the FBI’s investigation. He saved you before. Yeah, he did. Was he doing that now? Every TV show, movie, and book she ever read clearly pointed out how only those close to, or had a stake in a case were privy to details like a raid on a hotel room. Did that mean Jeremy saw the YouTube video?
Stone Cold Killer glanced over his shoulder. His dark shades had slid down and the cold light in his eyes sent fear racing down her spine. No. No! She pulled against Jeremy’s grip, her mind plunging back into Colombia without warning. Cold steel bit into her skin while the man with a pair of emotionless yet fanatical eyes stared at her. “You going to talk now, puta?”
“Michelle,” Jeremey snapped. “Stay with me.”
She blinked away the vision, disoriented at being ripped back into the present so fast. Jeremy tightened his grip and dragged her against his side. For a brief moment she allowed her head to fall against his meaty shoulder. She inhaled his addictive scent and instantly felt better.
“Eyes front, Talon,” Jeremy snapped, flattening their bodies against the side of the dry cleaners behind SCK. “We clear to make a break for the car on the other side?”
From beyond the hotel and as far as Michelle could glimpse in the other direction, the backs of the buildings were relatively flush with each other. Some had blacktop as if for additional parking while others had large Dumpsters filling the space.
“O Romeo, Romeo. Wherefore art thou Romeo?” Talon crooned softly.
What the heck?
Jeremy flashed SCK a grin and placed his lips next to her earlobe. She shivered at the faint breath and almost missed his command. “Keep low but run as fast as you can. Don’t stop or slow down. Once you clear the corner, wait for us.” Her mind turned to mush at his whispered words. “We’ll use our bodies to block the view if someone should glance this way.”
It took everything she had not to giggle and lift her shoulder. Get it together, Michelle. This is serious.
He placed a large hand at the small of her back. “Go.” He gave her a little push.
Chapter 12
Cappy rounded the corner with Talon by his side. The second he began strolling forward his world narrowed onto two perfectly shaped globes bobbing ahead.
Omph. Talon smacked him in the chest. “Focus, loverboy.”
Oh, he was focusing all right. But as much as he hated to admit it, Talon was right. Now was not the time to disintegrate into puberty over a fine ass.
As casually as he could, he glanced over his shoulder and confirmed what Talon had already told him. Romeo was gesturing broadly to another man wearing a navy jacket with the bright yellow “FBI” letters stenciled across the back. He seemed to be expounding about something concerning the backside of the building, which ultimately kept the other guy turned away from their group.
“Never figured you for a poet.” Cappy quickened the pace. “Didn’t think Shakespeare would be a common feature in Deadly Knives Weekly.”
“Just goes to show you I got layers.”
Cappy snorted and slapped his phone to his ear. “Ted . . . hold on.” Michelle disappeared around the corner. Even though she’d called him asking for help, he hadn’t missed her sudden suspicion after Magician tipped them off with her text. He’d be a fool not to keep a close eye on her and right now, he trusted her not to keep running about as much as he’d see the day Romeo voluntarily committed to a monogamous relationship—needless to say that wasn’t much trust at all.
“Talon, make sure she hasn’t kept going,” he said softly, just in case she hadn’t taken off as he suspected. No sense in having to deal with her indignation when he was only being practical. He stayed the man’s arm, adding a warning, “If she has kept running, remember she’s not been convicted of anything yet. Try to use some finesse in bringing her back.”
Talon smirked and jogged ahead.
Cappy repositioned the phone. “Sorry. I need a place we can all crash for a few days.”
“You know I’m an IT guy, not a travel agent, right?”
“You’re the most qualified person I’ve got to help me
out. And if you want to be considered a member of this team, then I hope you’ll contribute to our success by using all your skills to the fullest. I need you on this menial task, Ted.”
Silence. “I understand. I want to be a part of Delta.”
“Excellent.”
“I take it you’ve found Michelle?”
“Yeah.”
Tapping against a keyboard filled the background. “Where you at now?”
“Greenwood.”
“Okaaay. I’m assuming we’re staying away from our already established bolt-hole in Indianapolis for obvious Victor reasons?”
“Yep.” Cappy turned the corner and found Michelle resting against the cement wall. Her arms were crossed over her chest and by the way she glared at Talon, thoroughly pissed off.
Talon, on the other hand, seemed to find her wrath amusing as he leaned a hip against the Pontiac. He had his black-bladed Ka-Bar gripped in one hand, cleaning the dirt underneath his fingernails.
Great. What the hell did the man say to her?
“You want to stay anonymous?” Ted asked, pulling him back into the phone conversation.
“Preferably.” Cappy strode toward the car. “Find one with at least two rooms. I don’t want to wake up with Talon spooning my ass.”
Michelle’s eyes flew to his, confusion leaking through her anger.
Ted muttered, “More like a knife to your throat instead of a spoon.”
“I see Talon’s reign of love and joy has another satisfied customer,” Cappy said with joviality, trying to lighten the tension.
Ted snorted while Michelle’s eyebrows drew down, but he caught her lips twitching as she eyed the man in question beneath her lashes.
Good enough. Being funny was definitely not his strong suit; then again, he never tried to be as he barked orders to keep his team alive.
“Find anything?” Cappy asked, opening the back door and motioning for Michelle to climb in.
“I may have something my uncle hasn’t tainted,” Ted answered with more keyboard tapping. “Call you right back.” Click.
Michelle tilted her head and studied him, the corners of her mouth pulling down into a frown.
“Clock’s ticking.” Cappy motioned to his watch. “We gotta go before the Feds start sweeping the whole area.”
“Who were you just talking to?” she asked, the crease on her forehead becoming more pronounced.
“Ted.”
“And he is . . .”
“Right now, a travel agent.” He scanned the road ahead. So far nothing but normal traffic, but that could change at any second.
She pushed off the wall. “Stop stringing me along and tell me who the heck you work for. Why would you receive a tip the FBI were on their way?”
Cappy motioned to the open door again. “Get in. I agree we need to talk but now isn’t the time. Capisce?”
It was obvious some kind of battle raged in her mind. Most likely wondering whether calling him had been the right move or not. He couldn’t help her with that. He had no clue what was going on and refused to make any promises until he got some answers.
Her pretty bronze eyes with the tiny gold flecks near the pupils narrowed.
Talon stepped forward, causing the connection to break when she jerked her eyes away.
Goddammit. Tiny gold flecks near the pupils? What was with him? He needed to get his shit together.
“In,” Talon barked, pointing to the open door. “Or I swear to God I’ll deliver you to the Feds myself.”
Mr. Diplomacy, he is not. But it did the trick. Michelle shot Talon a look, inviting the man to die before she sashayed toward Cappy. Actually sashayed. He’d never seen someone do that before. Damn, she must be pissed.
“You certainly didn’t swing those hips like that during your walk of shame,” Talon cracked.
Michelle stopped, the color leaking from her face.
“Re-creating the speed from your dash out the door would make this so much easier,” his operative continued. “Need to hold your shoes or something?”
Fuck. He did not want to have that conversation now.
Michelle jolted, her face now pasty. Her eyes sought his, leaving Cappy no choice.
“Yes, we know about the YouTube video. I suspect that’s why you called.”
She trembled and surveyed the area.
“Your best chance of escaping is with us,” Cappy stated calmly, though his adrenaline started free-flowing. Don’t bolt.
Her eyes landed on the SIG Sauer strapped to his belt. “Escaping or hauling me in?” she asked, her voice quavering.
“Escaping.”
“You willing to aid a suspected felon?”
“Yes. Now get in.” Cappy studied the still-clear road. “We’ve got about thirty seconds before we’re trapped.”
The phone vibrated in Cappy’s hand and he glanced at the display. Ted will have to wait.
Her bottom lip curled inward and she chewed on the tantalizing piece as she assessed him.
Talon threw his hands up. “Unbelievable. She calls, we come running. We crawl out the window of a skeazy motel to escape the Feds, only to stand here begging her like we’ve done something wrong.” He gave her a salute and strode toward the driver’s side door. “Sixty-Nine, would you prefer a female agent or a man? I need to know because I’m grabbing one now for your ungrateful ass.”
“Talon.” Goddamn it. Cappy studied the side of her neck, estimating the force he’d need to make her pass out.
Michelle cast another glance at the road then jogged to the car and climbed in the back.
Hallelujah. He breathed out and shook his hands against the adrenaline tingling through his veins. Forcibly kidnapping her had not been something he had wanted to do.
He slid into the passenger side. “Just drive while I call Ted back.” He peered through the seats. “Michelle, I need you to lie down until we’re clear.”
Talon jammed the car in gear and Michelle tipped over, using her purse as a pillow.
He swiped his phone awake and redialed Ted. “Successful?”
“After a hefty wire transfer, one of my latest shell corporations is now the proud sponsor of two corporate cottages for its executives who are temporarily in town. They’re located in an apartment complex not too far from Greenwood Municipal Airport. They should be fully furnished, but not stocked, so stop by the grocery store and get supplies.”
“Excellent work. Thank you.” Cappy almost hung up when he remembered the genius had tried to talk to him earlier. “Hey, you want to tell me now what you couldn’t earlier?”
“It’s nothing,” Ted said in a tone that told Cappy it was definitely something.
Cappy waited.
“Bringing me out in the field hasn’t changed our agreement, has it? You’re not backing out, are you?”
Ah. He should’ve realized Ted would assume the worst with Victor being his role model and all. “Absolutely not. I keep my promises.”
“Just don’t tell the others.”
“I won’t.”
“Then I’ll book a private space at the gym when we get back to begin my training.”
Damn. He hated to dash Ted’s James Bond fantasies, but after a few sessions with the weights, hand-to-hand, and weapons, the kid’ll learn not every member of his team had to bang out a thousand push-ups or throw a punch to be specialized. Ted’s computer wizardry made him invaluable all on his own.
“Sounds like a plan,” Cappy replied. “Gotta go. Text me the address when I hang up.”
“We set?” Talon asked as the phone vibrated twice in his palm.
Cappy glanced at the display then tapped the screen to have the address feed into the navigational app. “Looks like it.”
Chapter 13
Senator Bob Harris glanced at the phone vibrating
insistently on the hotel’s cherry-wood desk. His heart plunged at the sight of the number.
“. . . reduces the potential exposure—”
“Everybody out,” the Senator snapped, cutting off his pompous chief of staff.
The man seated in a straight-back chair across from him blinked and exchanged an annoyed yet confused expression with his junior minion.
“You heard me,” the Senator barked again, the knot on his tie suddenly feeling like a noose as sweat seeped into his dress shirt from the heat trapped by his suit coat. “Go.”
He picked up the phone, now resembling the weight of a brick.
The men reluctantly stood and adjusted their suit jackets before gathering their leather portfolios.
“Tell the investigators outside not to step one foot in this room until I say so.” The Senator gripped the now silent phone. Missed Call blazed across the front of the screen, but he knew the caller would redial him any moment.
Just as the door to the office closed, the phone vibrated in his moist hand again.
He took a deep breath and hit Answer.
“Hello, Senator.”
His fingers convulsed at the deep digitally altered voice.
“Do not make me redial you again. Consequences will happen if you do.”
The Senator swallowed and stayed silent. This guy was too erratic for him to slip up and say the wrong thing.
“Very good,” that irritatingly scary voice complimented. “You’ve finally learned the value of listening. It’s a shame you didn’t practice that skill on Friday.”
Bile rose in the back of the Senator’s throat, forcing him to swallow back a lump.
“You could have saved your son.”
His body shook and the phone slipped from his fingers, clattering onto the desk. He covered his eyes, tears suddenly wetting his sweaty palm.
“Senator,” the altered voice snapped.
