by Regan Black
The beatings and bruises forgotten, the danger a vague memory, he took each pleasure she offered and indulged himself, giving it back to her tenfold. Her responsive moans and cries stoked a fiery need inside him as he discovered what she liked, what she craved, and what made her beg for more.
“Please, Scott, please.” She gripped his hips, drawing him in close, cradling his erection with her hot, wet folds.
His patience snapped and he drove deep, joining them at last. On a sweet sigh, she rocked her hips, drawing him deeper still. She lifted her hands to his face and held his gaze as he started to move with slow, measured strokes. Together they found a rhythm that tempered the urgency, allowing their passion to build, carrying them to a stunning peak.
On the wrecked bed, both of them breathless and spent, he drew her into his embrace. With her head resting on his shoulder he slept soundly for the first time since his ordeal had begun.
Chapter 9
John woke up restless after only a few hours of sleep. Amelia had dozed off in mid-sentence as they’d tossed around ideas for how best to remove Scott from the UI radar and protect Jaime. He’d cleaned up and dressed in silence, leaving her to sleep in as he debated their options.
She’d agreed with him that it was past time to make a stand against UI, but they were also in agreement that Scott wouldn’t rest until he knew his friends were out of Messenger’s grasp. John needed to find a way to make all of that happen with the least amount of bloodshed.
Thanks to the persistent upgrades to the technology, the tracker they’d managed to inject into Messenger was unreliable at best. Soon, John would have to use Ben’s unique enhancement to keep tabs on the bastard again. And just when they were pulling Ben closer to the normal end of the humanity scale.
The near miss at Clover City was proof their three-person team needed better support to protect Jaime and save Scott along with the other two soldiers who had been falsely accused. They couldn’t allow UI to rebuild their base of enhanced operatives. With that in mind, he’d reached out to Hank Patterson and managed to get a noon meeting at a diner in Eagle Rock.
Amelia had been delighted by the news once her stomach had settled from the morning sickness. She kept assuring him she and the baby were fine, but he’d feel better once he heard the same statement from a reliable doctor. As they drove away from the ranch, trusting Ben to keep watch over Scott and Jaime, John made a mental note to ask Hank about local physicians as well.
“What if they’ve started enhancements?” Amelia asked, referring to Scott’s friends. She sat in the corner of the booth, her back pressed to the wall while they waited for Patterson to arrive. “The new tracker was obviously in place for Scott.”
That was the trouble with UI. As an operation, it didn’t die any easier than their enhanced agents. “We’ll adjust,” John replied. They always did.
“You didn’t mention seeing Scott demonstrate any enhancements or aggression.”
“No,” John said. “As you said, his assignment was a test. Maybe Messenger is doing more preliminary assessment before just choosing a feature to exploit.”
“What will you tell Mr. Patterson?” Amelia asked, not for the first time.
“As much of the truth as I can,” John said. “He’s established a good operation here. He deserves all the transparency we can safely give.”
Amelia rubbed a hand across his shoulders in her sweet gesture of support. Her touch always eased the burden he carried and made him feel more unstoppable than any UI experiments.
At the sound of the bell on the door, John turned. Hank Patterson strode in, bringing a wash of cold air with him.
“It smells so clean up here,” Amelia murmured.
John grinned. The woman had a better sense of smell than a bloodhound lately. He hadn’t seen her so relaxed in a place since they’d last visited the Massachusetts coast, where she had fond memories of her grandmother.
John stood, though Patterson had already picked him out and started toward their table. The handshake was firm and the introductions quick and John expected no less from the former SEAL who’d carved out a new career for himself and many other veterans in the shadow of the Crazy Mountains.
Patterson slid into the bench across from them and smoothed his windblown brown hair as a waitress brought over a thick ceramic mug and poured coffee. John felt a twitch between his shoulder blades at the familiarity of small-town life, but when he glanced at Amelia, she was grinning. He managed not to roll his eyes at her being so obviously charmed.
“You mentioned trouble, Mr. Noble,” Patterson said without preamble. “I’m not local law enforcement.”
“I’m former military, myself,” John began. “I’d rather keep local LEOs out of it.”
Patterson raised an eyebrow and John knew the other man had done some digging for information.
“His records were altered,” Amelia interjected.
“The group that altered my service record is the problem,” John said. “To make a long story short, I escaped a ruthless covert agency bent on creating super soldiers.”
Patterson muttered an oath into his coffee.
John wasn’t sure how to interpret that. Did Patterson believe him, or had the man shoved them into the conspiracy nut column? Either way could work for Scott Blackwell as it meant more trained eyes keeping a lookout in the area.
“Since escaping, I’ve managed to help a few of more operatives shake free of the program as well. We dealt a blow to the organization a few years back, but a recent incident has given us cause to think the group is rebuilding.”
“And you think they’re rebuilding here?”
Amelia leaned in. “A new, unwilling recruit escaped. He is in the area and we’re helping him fend off the team hunting him.”
Patterson sipped his coffee, his gaze moving from John to Amelia and back again. “Why bring me in?”
“We’re outmanned,” John said. “It’s me, another former agent, the new recruit, Amelia, and another civilian.” At Patterson’s headshake, John worried he was losing his audience. “And I thought you might be willing, given the nature of how this group acquires their operatives.”
Patterson’s jaw set. “Meaning what?”
“Military personnel are manipulated into cooperating with this group,” Amelia said quietly. “Often accused outright of criminal behavior, occasionally presumed dead, the recruits are convinced the only option left is to cooperate with this agency.”
Patterson caught the waitress’s eye and waited while she refilled his coffee. “Presumed dead?” he asked.
Amelia nodded. “Some records I’ve uncovered had Navy ties.”
John studied Patterson. The man’s thunderous expression made it clear he was thinking of someone specific. John wanted to offer a trade, but having been on the UI side of the system, he knew how convoluted the records could be.
“To save this guy and give him some options, I need to take out the team on his tail and give them a solid reason to stop hunting.” John waited, hoping his nerves didn’t show.
“You plan to fake his death.”
John liked the way Patterson’s mind worked. “Probably. We’re set up outside of town.” His mind was working through the best and worst case scenarios. “The leader himself would show up if he thought he could take me out along with the recruit,” he said, thinking out loud.
“No.” Under the table, Amelia kicked him and he shot her an annoyed glance.
Patterson laughed. “My wife would do the same,” he said. “That kind of risk is foolish, with or without backup.”
“I’d really like to end the top dog,” John admitted in a low, bloodthirsty tone. “This agency isn’t going down until he does.”
“How enhanced are we talking about?” Patterson queried.
John hesitated. The last thing he wanted was to give a demonstration, though he would if that’s what would save Blackwell. This was murky ground. It wasn’t about the program as much as the risk to a good
man if Patterson knew too much about UI.
“More than stamina or superb vision,” Amelia supplied. “Most of the men and women within the program eventually become cold-blooded, merciless. They tend to develop a blind loyalty to the leadership.”
Patterson grimaced. “Great. What do you think you need?”
John appreciated his reluctance to pit his team against UI operatives. “We have a place in mind to stage our confrontation, but extra eyes would be appreciated.”
“Where?” Patterson asked.
“The civilian we mentioned is letting us use family property, bordered by an abandoned ranch.”
“This civilian have a name?”
John glanced to Amelia, who nodded. “Jaime Castle,” he said.
Hank nodded. “I know the area.” He nodded slowly. “Mountains at your back and you have clear line of sight from the road.”
“I thought the same,” John said.
“And the unwilling recruit, as you put it?”
“Not local.” John wrote Scott’s name on a paper napkin and slid it across the table. Recognition flared in Patterson’s eyes and his mouth flat-lined in obvious displeasure.
“You’ve heard about him.”
“I caught wind of the case from a friend stationed on the same FOB,” Patterson said. “He’s innocent?”
“Yes,” Amelia said. “The situation makes me think the agency is desperate. It was a fast and in some ways sloppy setup, but it worked.”
A muscled worked in Patterson’s jaw. “Let’s go work out details and timing,” he said.
John paid the bill and they led Patterson back out to Jaime’s place.
“I can’t get over how beautiful it is,” Amelia said as they drove up the long, bumpy drive.
“Your vision’s going.” He looked at the two-story house. It had good bones, but it needed a lot of attention. Years of sweat were in store for whoever took it on.
“Not the house.” She swatted his arm. “The area. John, can’t you imagine the peace of it out here?”
According to the baby books, nesting wasn’t supposed to happen for months yet. After years on the run, always looking over his shoulder, wary of the next attack, he couldn’t deny the appeal of settling in. He glanced at her, wondering if she’d already started the research on local obstetricians.
“We’ll see.” He didn’t want to get her hopes up. If they could save Blackwell without giving Messenger reason to stay in the area, they might have a chance. “Is the internet connection good enough for you out here?”
She laughed. “Good enough for Patterson to run a wildly successful business and hear about Scott’s situation. That should be good enough for me.”
John parked and gave Patterson time to pull up beside him. Out of the car, he turned in a full circle, taking in the best spots to plant snipers or pin down anyone coming in on the attack. Firing solutions aside, Amelia was right. The property was perfect and the views were astounding. “Beautiful country,” he said.
Patterson agreed. “It’s home.”
John understood the full meaning behind the curt reply. “I don’t want to bring trouble here.”
“We have our share,” Patterson admitted. “And we deal with it accordingly. You’re sure this Blackwell kid is innocent?”
“Yes. Both the crimes and the escape were staged by the black-ops agency. Trumped up charges mean more leverage over potential recruits.”
“Voice of experience?” Patterson asked.
John nodded.
“Everything I could find on you and the lady says the both of you are dead.”
“We continue to give that impression whenever possible,” Amelia said with a bright smile.
“We’ll do the same for Blackwell,” John added. “We can give him a fresh start and a chance to live. It’ll be easier if you can help me cover the area for a few days, until we can drive away the team determined to take him back.”
Patterson looked to the mountains, folding his arms over his chest. “I can post a few men to keep an eye on things.”
“I only need overwatch and early warning,” John said. “Any and all close work should be left to my immediate team, as protection for you.”
Patterson’s gaze narrowed in speculation. “Just how enhanced are you?”
Again John hesitated. It wasn’t as if Patterson would risk his reputation by blabbing about the conversation. No one would believe him, Amelia could attest to that.
“Shoot him and find out,” a voice said.
Patterson startled and he turned a full circle, searching out the source.
“Ben.” John wanted to wring the man’s neck. “When did you get here?”
“I rode along with Mr. Patterson.” Little puffs of dust kicked up as Ben strolled toward the house on the dry path, and his boots thudded softly as he picked his way up the steps. Boards squeaked as he tested the wrap-around porch. “You know this place needs some serious work,” Ben called as he opened the squeaky screen door.
“He’s invisible?” Patterson asked, incredulous.
“Far too often for his own good,” John admitted. “His agency code name was Chameleon in deference to how his enhancement works. He hates it. Ben and I were among the first to survive the alteration process.”
Patterson arched an eyebrow. “What was your code name?”
“Bulletproof.”
Patterson whistled. “Handy.”
“It has been at times,” he confessed. Still, he wouldn’t wish the process or the tradeoffs on anyone and no augmentation was enough to warrant a lifetime of service to a bastard like Messenger. “Now you know all the reasons I can’t call in local law enforcement. If you want me to take this elsewhere, we will.”
“Stay.” Patterson and John circuited the house, deciding where to station Patterson’s men. “I’ll have them in place by nightfall.”
“Thanks,” John said sincerely. It had never been easy for him to ask for help, but Patterson’s reputation made it a smidge easier, especially considering Amelia’s condition.
Chapter 10
Over the next few days, John went over their positions time and again. Jaime was sure wars hadn’t been planned with such detail. He reminded them where Patterson’s men were keeping watch. There were drills to deal with an ambush and they all had to memorize egress routes to allow for every contingency. She learned all she could about John, Amelia, Ben and the off-the-books agency they were determined to topple.
Her nights were pure bliss, full of delightful physical intimacy and the sheer joy of sharing a bed with Scott. In those quiet moments when they were alone, she could almost believe they were coping with what might pass for a normal relationship. Everything they shared, through their days and nights, confirmed her initial assessment that he was one of the good guys.
If someone had told her she’d find her soulmate on the side of the road she would have suggested they schedule a brain scan. Yet here she was, falling in love with Scott in a dozen unexpected ways every day. She felt more than the tantalizing rush of attraction, something inexplicably deeper than the desire for the stellar sex. Being around him gave her a sense of belonging, a sense of rightness she hadn’t felt with another person before.
She kept it to herself, telling herself she was savoring it, rather than hiding. Scott had enough on his mind without her blurting out an ‘I love you’. The future scared her, knowing how devastated she’d be if they failed to save him. She could only imagine her fears were a fraction of his. So she focused on what she could do, putting all her energy into the task at hand, be it target practice or home repairs as they all prepared for what John called an inevitable attack.
With each day that passed without a direct assault, it was assumed Scott’s tracker was permanently deactivated. Good news in the long run, but it left Jaime edgy. They couldn’t stay out here braced for a small war indefinitely. Though Ben never said what he’d done with the sniper team’s bodies or trackers on that first night, the goal now wa
s to lure UI close enough to make Scott’s death convincing.
While Amelia planted breadcrumbs UI would have to investigate, the rest of them used the down time to make repairs and fortifications around Jaime’s property. Unwilling to be pampered and needing a change of scenery, Amelia insisted on going into town with Jaime on the grocery run and convinced her to buy paint and supplies so she could start contributing more than meals and research.
“Contrary to John’s belief, pregnancy hasn’t turned me helpless,” Amelia said. “I’ll be careful with fumes and such, but I can’t sit behind the computer twenty-four/seven.”
“And what if the house gets shot up?” Jaime asked as they debated over fresh colors for the kitchen.
Amelia smiled. “Then I suppose I’ll learn how to repair drywall.”
Late in the afternoon two days later, as they all admired Amelia’s handiwork in the repainted kitchen, the first warning came over the radio from one of Patterson’s spotters. A team of two men were moving into overwatch positions at the north and east of the property, well back from the house.
“I’m on it,” Ben said a moment before the screen door squealed open and slapped shut again in his invisible wake.
John moved to embrace Amelia. “Be safe.”
“I’ll be as safe as you,” she countered. He rolled his eyes, gave her a fast kiss and grabbed his gear. Amelia moved to her computer, calling up some surveillance software they’d stolen from UI.
