Rory (In the Company of Snipers Book 6)

by Irish Winters

  Rory pulled her onto the bed with him, snuggling on top of the covers with his nose in her hair, his arms circled around her. Nima snored softly from the other bed, but for this one moment in time, Ember had everything.

  Tomorrow would have to take care of itself.

  Sixteen

  The next morning began the same as the first, with breakfast at a fast food joint once they were back on the road. Finally in the home stretch, Rory parked at a motel in Crystal City, Virginia, in late afternoon. Shadows were already low, the sun sinking fast. After scouting the hotel grounds to get the lay of the land, he brought their few bags up to the room, bolted and locked the door.

  This was where the rubber would hit the road, and as usual, he had pre-combat jitters. Tonight would be hard. His girls’ lives were on the line.

  “We’ve got to hurry,” Ember said urgently. “All the trick-or-treaters will be out pretty soon.”

  “I’m hurrying. Where’s the stuff?”

  “In the bathroom. I’ll get Nima ready while you shower and dress.”

  He went straight to work. By the time he’d transformed into a dumpy caveman, Ember and Nima were ready to go. And darn. This cavewoman stopped him cold. Yes, the flesh-colored elastic material covered her real skin, but that faux-fur bikini top did a number on her already-full bosom. And that brown-colored furry skirt thingee? She might as well have been wearing flannel pajamas again. Nothing hid those splendid hips or the taunting sway when she walked.

  She’d pulled her hair into a topknot ponytail and sprayed some red coloring into it. A plastic bone completed both her and Nima’s ensemble. Nima looked cute, but Ember? Gorgeously sexy and downright steamy. He tugged at his collar, hoping his costume hid what his body was thinking.

  “Cute costume. I always did like saber-tooth tiger furs. What are you looking at?” she asked, amusement shifting over her face.

  “Yabba-dabba-do?” he offered weakly.

  “Ha! I told you that you’d make a good Neanderthal.” She patted his belly. “Is Nima Two in there?”

  “Of course. And my pistol. And the last of my magazines.” And the most painful hard-on I’ve had in a long time.

  They stood there, her hand on his padded belly, Nima on her hip, and the darnedest sensation of a happy family taking over the last of his good senses.

  “You can’t go looking like that. Where’s your hair?”

  He pulled the scruffy wig out of his caveman pocket. “Got it.”

  Only Nima’s light blue eyes would give her away, but he was supposed to put both of these girls in danger? His girls? The whole plan seemed utterly ridiculous. It wouldn’t work and even if it might, he couldn’t take the chance.

  “Rory,” Ember said sternly. “Knock it off. I know what you’re thinking because I’m thinking the same thing. It’s a big risk we’re taking, but we have to do something. Trust me. Let’s get to Alexandria. The sooner the better.”

  He’d lost his ability to swallow. She might be right, but wow. She might be wrong.

  Ember nodded toward the door. “We’re off the grid, remember? Let’s move it, soldier.”

  That much was true. They were off the grid. This might be their only opportunity. Okay. As preposterous as he looked, it seemed the only way. Hide Nima. Bait the assassins. Finish the job.

  He took hold of Ember’s outstretched hand. The curtain was rising. It was time to blend in and surprise the heck out of Kelsey Stewart.

  Only it didn’t work that way. They parked their car at the end of the block and made their way to the Stewart home along with a crowd of happy trick-or-treaters. Nima got to collect way too many sugary treats in her little plastic jack-o-lantern. He kept his eyes peeled and his girls safe, but the minute the Stewart’s front door swung open to their boisterous, “Trick-or-treat!” everything changed.

  “It’s about damned time,” Alex hissed, waving them inside in his usual brusque way. “What took you so long?”

  “Boss? How’d you even know we were coming?” Rory had to ask. Was this guy omniscient?

  Alex shut the door behind them, scowling at his wife. “I didn’t. Kelsey did. She hasn’t slept a wink since you sent that damned message. And she’s been looking everywhere for you. I can’t get her to come to bed at night.”

  “I just knew you’d come here,” Kelsey said. A slender woman with long brown hair pulled into a clip at the back of her head, she took their coats and ushered them into an inviting living room. “You couldn’t go to The TEAM, so they had to come to you. It’s the only thing that made sense.”

  And then the crazy plan changed again. Not only was Alex there, but Harley, too. Alex’s guard dogs, Whisper and Smoke, were settled alongside the fireplace. Zack Lennox offered a high-five from the couch. Gabe Cartwright dropped the magazine in his hands to the coffee table with a sarcastic, “Don’t you look sweet?”

  Rory jerked his fake hair off his head. Relief flooded the knots out of his shoulders. His guys were there. Alex and his team had never looked so good. “How’d you guys get here? Were you followed?”

  Gabe held up a plastic yellow helmet. “I’m TV repair. I’ve been here since late Monday. No sign of a tail.”

  “The rest of us came undercover of night,” Zack said. “I’m still not sure anyone’s watching this place, though. I’ve been patrolling the neighborhood. Nothing’s out of place. No strange cars lurking in the neighbors’ driveways, either. I don’t think the assassins are as good as we think.”

  “You wouldn’t say that if you’d had everything blown up around you,” Ember disagreed.

  Alex offered no time for further discussion. “How were you thinking of ending this op?”

  “We’re leaving Nima here while we meet with the assassins and finish them off,” Ember said. “Only we’re not really. Turn around, Dennison.”

  Rory complied. She had her mojo back, as bossy as ever. Ember unzipped the back of his costume. He dropped the sleeves over his arms and out popped his latest child, Nima Two, where he’d belted her to his abdomen.

  Kelsey grinned. By now, she was on the couch with Nima on her lap. “Oh, my, it looks just like Nima.”

  Harley snickered. “You’re the first pregnant guy I’ve ever met.”

  “Don’t even start with me, Mortimer.” Rory offered his fist. “We’re leaving the real Nima here with Kelsey and you two baboons while we run the ambush scenario. Boss, I’m going to place a call to you when we’re in place. I figure the assassins are still monitoring TEAM phone lines, right?”

  Alex shrugged. “Mother thinks so. No pipe bombs since the start of this op, but she’s convinced we’ve got someone hacking our server.”

  “That will never happen,” Ember said. “Mother’s too good.”

  “That’s what she says,” Alex grumbled.

  “Ember and I need time to change, Boss. After we leave here, we’ll go back to our motel, change our clothes, and get Nima Two ready. Can you get an ambush set up at this location?”

  “Tonight?”

  Rory looked to Ember for her input. “Sure. Are we ready to rock and roll or not?”

  “I am,” she replied evenly. “Nima’s safe. Let’s get this done before those guys know what hit ’em.”

  Alex tapped his ear, and Rory would’ve hugged him if they’d been alone. The boss was wearing a wire. That meant he was already in league with the FBI, maybe Homeland Defense, too. He held his hand out, his fingers snapping. “Give me the location.”

  Rory placed the sticky note with the address in his boss’s very capable hands.

  “Why don’t you two stay here with Nima? Catch your breath. I can task two other agents to finish this op.”

  “And exactly who would you get to fill my thirty-eight Cs, huh Alex?” Ember asked with a jiggle of her very lovely and extremely sexy cavewoman accessories. “These guys who’ve been chasing us know exactly who’s got Nima. They’ve seen us up close and personal. And they’re smart. Do you think Harley or Mark could even pretend to w
alk like me, much less work it so they’ll look like a real woman? I’d like to see ’em try.” She wiggled everything she had, top and bottom, working it all while poor Alex turned crimson with embarrassment. He shot a pointed glare at Rory, probably needed interference

  “Hey. Don’t look at me.” Rory grinned, palms forward to deflect the obvious call for help. It wasn’t often his boss got caught in the sticky web of feminine logic. “We do need to finish what we started, though, if you’ll promise to take good care of our little girl over there.”

  “Consider it done. When can you two be there?” Alex recovered quickly, offering Rory a new cell phone. “Here. You’ll need this.”

  “The motel’s not far. Give us two hours,” Ember said, crouching at Kelsey’s knee. “Will you be okay?” she asked Nima.

  Nima mumbled something that sounded like Chinese, the first time she’d drifted into her native tongue during the entire operation.

  “She’ll be fine,” Kelsey assured her. “Now go. Make the world a safer place for this little girl.”

  Rory donned his wig while Ember zipped up the back of his costume. He snagged the adorable Nima doll, stuck his hand up her back and converted her into an animated hand puppet.

  “Bye-bye,” Nima Two said in a husky voice. “Don’t go anywhere, little girl. We’ll be right back.”

  Real Nima squealed.

  Rory turned to the door before he changed his mind. It was happening.

  Halloween had come and gone, but not the ghosts.

  Ember shivered. The evening turned chilly, but it wasn’t the only reason for the goose flesh creeping up the back of her neck. This place was downright spooky. The wooden framework of half-finished homes cast silvery shadows in the dark October evening. Others, still unsold and uninhabited, gazed with empty stares from windows cold and dark. Lifeless. Like skeletons. Like Death was watching.

  Rory had parked Dr. Choden’s vehicle at the curb. He’d dressed in comfortable jeans and a light shirt, his only protection the trench coat that hid his weapon securely installed in a shoulder holster hanging down his right side. She was dressed the same, but wore a light windbreaker. Nima Two was now concealed beneath the baby blanket in her arms, along with the same type of closed bolt mini-submachine gun Rory carried.

  The meet was just doors down the block, but Rory and Ember opted to walk the distance instead of parking any closer. It gave them time to draw the assassins out. To make sure Nima’s would-be murders had a good view of Nima Two. To make sure they’d believe the doll was the child.

  “Are you ready?” Rory asked. He’d placed the call to Alex twenty minutes earlier. The clock was ticking.

  She took a deep breath, fingering the weapon beneath the blanket. Her earlier confidence had fled. Before the night ended, she’d have to kill again. Or be killed. Somehow the concept of self-defense didn’t calm her nerves. “Do it.”

  “Let’s move,” Rory growled. He came to her side of the car and opened her door like the dutiful agent he was. Cupping her elbow, he pulled her away from the street, sheltering her with his body. “Don’t look so glum. Alex is already here.”

  He was right. A power and light utility truck parked near the only power poles in the tract, its cherry-picker basket hung high against the pole, its crew working overtime to satisfy some urgent need. Or else it was the FBI. Maybe Homeland Security. Or The TEAM.

  Feral cats skulked in the shadows, their stealthy eyes glittering in the dim lights cast from headlights a block away. Dried leaves skittered across the sidewalk, scratching spooky whispers on the wind. Or else it was the assassins already here, come to kill Nima.

  Far to the east the orange globe of a harvest moon hung low in the sky, itself a harbinger of things otherworldly and evil. Spidery shadows stretched bony webs from one black tree to the next. Planted too early, the trees moaned in spooky chorus as if wishing for a few drops of moisture. And Ember wished this ungodly night was far behind her.

  Rory pulled his collar tight to his chin. “Feels like a Nor’easter’s headed in.”

  Feels more like the breath of Hades if you ask me. She leaned into him as they walked, Nima Two wrapped snugly in the dark blue blanket as if asleep. “I don’t see anyone.”

  “Just wait. They’re here. I can feel them.”

  “How’d they get here so fast? It might be our guys.”

  “It might be.”

  A yowling scream wrenched her already stretched nerves.

  “Just cats,” he assured her in his way, always looking out for his companion agent. She loved and hated that about him. It would put him in the line of fire every damned time. When he glanced over his shoulder, the cords in his neck tightened, his jaw clenched in the pale moonlight. Any other time she would’ve appreciated the handsome profile. Tonight, it just made her sad. Dread seemed to match their pace, loping alongside like a lone wolf, testing for weakness or fear.

  “It’s the fifth house on your right.” He nodded his chin toward the home he meant.

  “The one with the porch?” She focused on walking. Running would only betray her fear.

  “Yes.”

  The fifth stood as dark as the rest. Empty houses made her thoughtful. What kind of family would eventually live there? Would they be kind to each other? Or would they fight and be cruel to their children? Their pets? Would they gather at Thanksgiving to cheer each other’s football teams? Or would they tear each other apart in word and deed?

  Three houses to go and the vision accompanied every step. Will Alex cry tonight? Will Harley laugh? God, I hope not.

  A black car rolled out of the shadows on the dark street ahead, startling her. No headlights and no engine sound. It slowed. Braked. Made a U-turn and shifted into drive again to match their walking speed. Rory tensed, his stride quicker and longer.

  “We’re almost there,” he whispered. “Don’t worry. Help is only a breath away.”

  How about a scream away? She couldn’t answer, not wanting to sound as scared as she felt. Instead, she smothered Nima Two to her breast and lowered her head. The wind watered her eyes. Or maybe it was tears.

  “Not so fast,” he cautioned. “Give them time to make sure we’ve got what they came for.”

  She tried, but her feet itched to run in the opposite direction. The car matched their pace. Watching. Calculating. Possibly aiming. Suspense gripped her shoulder muscles, anxiety her throat. The assassins could take them out without making contact. She glanced to her left, peering around Rory, needing to see into the vehicle beside them. She should’ve known better. Black windows swallowed her reflection. It wasn’t a car. It was a death coach.

  Two houses to go. A light flickered on from somewhere inside. Just as quickly, it went out. The sign was given. Whatever happened next would determine all. Ember closed her eyes and bowed her head to the child’s soft sweet hair, hoping with all her heart the vision was a lie.

  “Now,” Rory whispered.

  Nima raised her pretty face, her sleepy light blue eyes ghostly in the pale moonlight. She turned to the car with childish curiosity.

  Ember grasped for a better hold on her child even as she pulled the blanket tighter. “Please go back to sleep,” she muttered loud enough for all to hear.

  A tiny hand pushed out of the blanket and grasped Ember’s shoulder as the child elbowed her way upright. She peered into the dark windows of the vehicle as if she could see beyond the tint. Tires screeched. The car swerved over the curb to block their path.

  “Make her sit down,” Rory hissed, his hand clamped tightly to Ember’s shoulder as they froze in their steps. “For God’s sake, cover her up!”

  Four men leapt from the car, each covered in black from head to toe, balaclavas hiding their facial features. The shadows of the trees sprang to life. More wraiths surrounded Ember, Rory, and Nima, ten or twelve altogether. In full-blown panic, she lost her ability to count.

  Breathe. This is what you’re trained for. Smooth and easy.

  Rory jerked her aga
inst him, Nima Two sandwiched between.

  One man stepped forward, pulling the mask off his head. A knife glinted in his hand. Why a knife when the others displayed Uzis, some micros, some minis? All were extremely lethal. The rate of automatic fire ran between six to twelve hundred deadly rounds per minute, certainly more than adequate to annihilate two adults and a child. So why the knife?

  She couldn’t take her eyes off the wicked blade. Was it only for show? For cruelty’s sake? For intimidation? It worked.

  The man approached in silence. Like a snake. Definitely Chinese. Clean-shaven. Shaved head, too. Narrow black eyebrows over a wide forehead. Cold, mean eyes. He stopped within ten feet of them, pointing to his feet with the blade. “You will give me the child. Do it now.”

  “Why would I give you my child?” Rory shot back, positioning Ember under his arm, the Nima doll shielded from the assassin’s view.

  “Let us not play games. She is not your child, Agent Dennison,” Cold Eyes spat out. “You see. I do know who you are. And your little girlfriend there is Agent Ember Davis. That thing she carries belongs to the people of Tibet. I have come to spill its blood.”

  Nima struggled to rise again, but Ember pulled her firmly back against her chest. Cold Eyes had to believe.

  “Who the hell are you?” Rory growled. “Triad? Snakehead? Wah Ching?”

  Cold Eyes grunted. “Not even close. We are not of the Han. They are weak. We are the spiritual warriors of exiled Tibet, the Yushu Sangha. Our sole purpose for living is to cleanse this disgusting aberration from the face of the earth. The line of the Goddess must be kept pure. Give me the girl.”

  Nima struggled again, softly murmuring against Ember’s neck to be released, “Mama Ember. Me down.”

  “No,” she whispered firmly. “Please be still.”