Chase cleared his mind, focused on the noise of the men approaching. Three guys, no more. The feet pounded together, but he’d had enough experience to separate out the sounds. They echoed in the stairwell, along with the angry French.
He could wait, take out the first man, but the next two would know he was there. They would turn, fire.
He had to do it. Had to protect Sophie. He’d heard nothing outside, no sounds of struggle or surprise.
The door to the outside opened, and he wedged himself farther into the shadows. A man entered, and Chase swore silently. The last thing he needed was a resident getting into the middle of a firefight.
But then the first Russian hit the top of the landing, and the man who’d just walked in raised a pistol and fired. The Russian dropped.
Chase didn’t have time to be surprised. He bolted into action as the other two Russians opened fire over the side of the stairwell. He darted out, fired up, darted back.
The man who’d shot the first Russian fell back into the shadows opposite him.
“Who the fuck are you?” Chase demanded.
Eyes flashed in the darkness. “Ian Black sent me.”
Fucking Ian Black. Jesus, that dude had a way of showing up at both the best and worst times. Right now counted for one of the best.
“Sophie?”
“Last I saw, Ian got in the car with her. She’s protected.”
Thank God for that. The relief coursing through him was strong—and calming. He knew his job and he could do it under pressure. But the news that Sophie was safe with Ian Black gave him the kind of eerie calm that sometimes settled in when the battle was raging and he ceased thinking about his own death. It was when he didn’t care anymore that he did some of his best work.
Sirens sounded in the distance, and he knew they were headed for them. He didn’t want to be here when they arrived. Chase signaled the other guy, who nodded. They both stayed in the shadows, waiting, keeping quiet.
The Russians crept down the stairs, thinking they’d left. It wasn’t until they were in the entry that Chase and his companion struck. He didn’t see what the other guy did, but he wrapped his arm around the neck of one of the Russians and popped his chin with the other, breaking his neck and dropping him to the ground. When he looked over at Ian Black’s man, he’d done something similar.
Chase held out a hand. The man was Special Forces, or had been. Typical of Ian Black’s mercenaries. They weren’t misfits, which was what Chase and his teammates had thought when they’d first encountered them in Qu’rim.
No, they were guys with backgrounds similar to the HOT soldiers, but they’d decided they liked hiring out their skills and not answering to a governmental authority the way the men of HOT did. The US Army owned Chase’s ass. Nobody owned this guy’s.
“Chase Daniels.”
“Brett Wheeler.”
Chase took a breath and wiped the sweat from his face. “Think we better get the fuck out of here, Brett.”
“Couldn’t agree more.”
They stepped outside and started down the street as lights popped on in the building behind them.
“You got a car?”
“Around the corner.”
Chase glanced back over his shoulder, but nobody followed them. He patted his jacket pocket, feeling the outline of the flash drive. Must be some fucked-up shit on this thing if Androv was so desperate to get it back.
He just prayed that Billy Blake could bust the encryption. If not, Sophie would never be safe. And that was a thought he couldn’t bear.
31
Mendez was at work when his personal cell phone rang. “Hawk. What do you have for me?”
“Androv’s people found Fiddler and Sophie, but they got away. Three Russians eliminated. Ian Black assisted… I wish you’d told me that might happen, sir.”
Mendez ran a hand through his hair. Hawk wasn’t active duty anymore. He could cuss out his former commander if he wanted to, but he didn’t. He kept the military protocol in place because it was ingrained in him.
“I couldn’t, Hawk. If he didn’t show, then his name didn’t need to be mentioned. Black walks a dangerous tightrope of his own. I can’t compromise that.”
“Yes, sir.”
“You’re pissed.”
“Yes, sir.”
Mendez laughed. “Goddamn, boy, you aren’t in the Army anymore. Tell me to fuck off if it makes you feel better.”
“No, sir, not doing that. But next time, tell me. I’ll treat the information with the care it deserves.”
Mendez leaned back in his chair and stared at the ceiling. He’d kept so many things to himself for so long that it was almost impossible to trust anyone. Or endanger anyone. The more things he shared, the more likely it was that someone would get hauled before a House committee if the time ever came. He didn’t fucking need that. Couldn’t do that to those who depended on him.
“Where are Fiddler and Sophie now?”
“En route to Charles de Gaulle.”
Hawk didn’t have to tell him they weren’t out of the woods yet. They’d both been in this business long enough to know that was understood.
“Any progress on the files?”
“Still locked tight. But it’s only been a few hours.”
“We’ve got to get them open.” He wanted HOT working on those files, but the best he’d been able to do was send Hawk’s former teammate Billy Blake to help. If anyone could crack it, the Kid could.
“Working on it, sir… That’s all you need to know, by the way.”
“Yeah, copy that,” Mendez said. He didn’t need knowledge of what was going on until they had something worth knowing. It was all about the deniability. “Let me know when you have something. And let me know when Fiddler and the girl are back safely.”
He clicked off the line and looked up at the television screen. He’d muted it, but he grabbed the remote and put the sound back on.
Grigori Androv was on the screen, smiling wide. The headline was definitely attention-getting.
Zoprava CEO Donates 20 Million to Refugee Relief
Mendez watched the report. He’d seen Androv before, but this time he paid attention to the details. Grigori Androv appeared soft, nerdy. He was tall, thin, wore glasses, and he smiled like he owned the world. It wasn’t a nice smile. It was the smile of a man without morals or limits. An arrogant smile.
Mendez understood that kind of man well. He’d encountered them all too often in his life. A side effect of the job, no doubt.
He was about to snap the sound off again when the footage cut to a charity banquet. And there, right there on his screen, Androv stood beside a man whose hand he was clasping in a handshake. As if they’d just cut a deal.
Congressman DeWitt smiled as he said something to Androv. His other hand came up and clasped the man’s shoulder. A spontaneous move, familiar. A chill shot through Mendez, settled like a rock in his belly.
There was nothing out of place about that shot. Nothing that suggested any impropriety whatsoever. DeWitt was a congressman, and a refugee relief event was a perfectly legitimate place for him to be. There was no evidence he knew Androv, no evidence they’d ever spoken before that event.
But it caused the hair on Mendez’s neck to prickle anyway. His senses twitched. There was just something about DeWitt and Androv in the same frame that didn’t sit right with him. Something that said there was more to the story than he’d ever guessed.
Now he really wanted to know what was in those fucking files of Androv’s. And he was willing to risk a lot to find out.
Ian Black checked them into a small suite at the airport. It was after midnight but still a few hours until Sophie’s flight out. She was happy he’d done that instead of forcing her to sit in an airport lounge all night, though she didn’t relish being in a room with a stranger.
She glanced over at him as he paced the room, his attention on the phone screen in front of him. Black was tall with dark hair. He was, appropriately
she supposed, dressed in black from head to toe, and his expression was hard and businesslike. He might not be Chase’s teammate, but he was like Chase. Cut from the same cloth. The badass-military-man cloth.
She hadn’t been around that kind of man long, but she pretty much thought she could recognize them now. There was something about them. Something strong, something deadly. Something honorable, at least in Chase’s case. And Hawk’s.
She didn’t know about Ian Black.
“Any news?” she asked when she thought she might go crazy from the silence and her thoughts.
He glanced up. “I told you an hour ago he was safe.”
“Yes, but where is he?”
She’d nearly melted in relief when Ian had gotten a call earlier and then told her that Chase and another man were on their way.
“Is he okay?” she’d asked.
“Yes.”
That was all she’d needed. Until now, when she kept expecting him to walk into the room at any moment. She was going just a little bit crazy waiting to lay eyes on him again. It shocked her just how much she needed to see him. How necessary he’d become.
Except that she had to put an end to those kinds of thoughts because he wasn’t necessary at all. He couldn’t be. This thing between them was ending, whether tonight or when they landed in DC. Over. Done. Had to be.
He didn’t want her in his life. He wanted the sex, but he didn’t want her. Too complicated.
“They’re on the way. Traffic is a bitch in this city, you know.”
She did know. She turned away and went over to the windows, gazing out at the lights. Planes took off and landed at regular intervals. She didn’t know how long she’d been standing like that when there was a knock at the door.
Ian went over and looked through the peephole. Then he swung it open and Chase and another man stood on the other side.
She couldn’t help her reaction even though she’d told herself to be cool. Calm.
She was neither of those things. With a little cry, she ran toward the door as Chase walked in. He caught her as she threw her arms around him and hugged him tight.
She was shaking, but she didn’t cry. She swallowed the lump in her throat. Dear God, don’t let her cry. He was strong—all these men were strong—and she wasn’t going to be the one who fucking cried.
Chase held her close, a hand sifting up into her hair, pressing her to his chest. He smelled good, a little like the night, a little smoky, a little spicy.
“It’s okay, babe,” he said into her ear. “You’re okay.”
She couldn’t stop the shaking, nor could she manage to tell him it wasn’t herself she’d been worried about. Stupid man.
“Didn’t realize it was like that,” Ian said, and Chase’s body tensed marginally.
“Like what?” he challenged, and Sophie told herself to get it together.
She gulped in a breath, pushed herself back. Chase let her go, but she sensed it wasn’t easy the way his hand tightened for a moment in her hair and then slipped free.
Ian was looking at them both with interest. “Never mind.” He sat down on a chair and kicked his feet up onto the small table, his hands going behind his head.
“You can go now, Black,” Chase said. “I got this.”
Ian just smiled. “Nope, can’t do that. Brett and I have an obligation to see you onto that plane.”
Chase went over and dropped the bag he’d been carrying. She knew it contained weapons, and she knew he would store them in the car tomorrow morning when they left it in the parking lot.
Then he turned and sank down on the couch in the small living area, throwing his arms along the back of it and sighing. He looked tired. “If that’s what you want.”
“That’s what I want, HOTtie.”
Sophie blinked. Did Ian Black just call Chase a hottie? He was a hottie, but… weird.
The guy named Brett sat down on a chair nearby. “HOT? Really? Fucking cool, man.”
Chase glanced at her, his mouth hardening. “Yeah, really.”
“Heard about that when I was a SEAL. Thought it was a myth.”
Sophie decided she’d had enough of the cryptic weirdness. She wasn’t tired, but she wanted to be alone for a while. “Well, if you guys are going to sit around out here and trade war stories, I’m taking the bed for a few hours. Good night.”
She went into the bedroom and shut the door. The voices kept droning on as she sat back on the bed. There was a television in the room and she turned it on, keeping the sound low.
A few minutes later, the door opened and shut and then Chase was there, coming over and propping a hip on the edge of the bed.
“You okay, Soph?”
She told herself to stay right where she was. To play this cool. But Chase was here, and she wasn’t ready to give him up. She put her arms around him, pressed herself tightly to him.
His arms enfolded her, one hand at her back and the other going into her hair and cupping her head.
“I thought I would never see you again,” she whispered. “I thought Grigori’s men would kill you.”
He bent and put his lips to her hair. “Takes more than a couple of Russians to kill me, I promise.”
“I was going to come back for you, Chase. Ian stopped me.”
His fingers tightened in her shirt, her hair. “I told you not to do that, baby. I told you to keep going.”
She pushed back and searched his gaze. “I know—but you wouldn’t abandon me, so how could I abandon you?”
He brought his hand around to her face, his thumb gliding over her lip, pressing lightly before dropping away again.
“You’re sweet, Sophie. So fucking sweet. I want another taste, and another and another. But this has to stop now. We have to stop.”
She sucked in a pained breath as she took his hand and brought it back to her mouth, kissing his skin. “I know,” she whispered past the razor blades in her throat. “There’s no future. We both know it… But Chase, if you ever wanted to try—” She swallowed, the words sticking there.
“I killed a man tonight,” he said, and her heart throbbed.
She knew what he did, knew it came at a cost. But she also knew it was a necessary part of his job. He kept people like her safe, and he had to do terrible things in order to keep that promise.
“I’m sorry you had to do that for me,” she said, and he made a shocked sound in his throat.
Then he was clasping her shoulders, sliding his hands up to cup her cheeks. “Sophie, it’s not your fault. It’s what I do, and I’d do it again if I had to. I… Fuck, I just thought you should know what kind of man I am, what kind of things I do. You don’t want to be with someone like me, Soph, even if it were possible.”
She gripped his wrists. “Are you crazy? The kind of man you are is amazing and honorable. Protective. Loyal. You’ve done more for me in the past few days than anyone ever has. If you think I don’t know that or appreciate it—well, you don’t know me then.”
He lowered his mouth to hers, took her lips in a hot, searing kiss. “I know you, babe,” he said when she was breathless and aching for more. “I know you.”
He said stuff like that and her heart melted. And, God, she was afraid it was true. He really did know her in a way no one else did—or ever would. He pulled her head down and kissed her forehead softly, tenderly.
“I like you, Sophie. I’ll always like you.”
He got to his feet and strode out the door, shutting it quietly behind him while her heart cried out at his words. They were everything in one way—and nothing at all in comparison to the words she wanted.
32
“Man, the shit that’s in these files.”
Billy Blake’s eyes shone with excitement as he scrolled through the newly decrypted files. It had taken almost twenty-four hours to bust through, but he’d done it.
Pages and pages, all in Russian. Chase scraped a hand through his hair and tried to keep his cool.
“Does anyone read Russi
an?” he asked. Calmly, he thought. But Hawk and Kid turned to him. Matt “Richie Rich” Girard and Garrett “Iceman” Spencer were there too, having returned from their R & Rs yesterday. They were all looking at him like he’d kicked a puppy or something.
“Got that handled,” Hawk said. “Send them over, Kid.”
Billy tapped a couple of keys and the files shot through the ether, going somewhere.
Chase’s eyes were gritty and his whole fucking body ached. Too much excitement and not enough sleep. Their plane had landed a couple of hours ago, and Matt had met them rather than letting them take the car they’d left in the lot, driving them to Hawk’s offices in a nondescript building in Annapolis. They weren’t too far from HOT HQ or from DC. It was a great location, and it still kept Hawk closer to home on the Eastern Shore.
The offices were modern and filled with state of-the-art equipment. But it wasn’t HOT. At least there was a private area with couches and a small kitchen. Evie Baker, soon to be Girard, had taken Sophie there for some coffee.
Sophie. Fucking hell, he tried not to think too hard about Sophie, but that was damned near impossible since he’d just spent seven hours in a flying tube with her head on his shoulder. She smelled good. Looked good. For a while he’d wished they really were Nathan and Beth Chandler, two innocent people on their honeymoon, starting their life together.
But they’d landed and reality crashed down. She was his fucking stepsister and his fucking father was a part of her life. And his mother would be hurt if Tyler suddenly became involved in Chase’s life—where the fuck would they spend Thanksgivings? Christmases? Sophie might not have had a great life with Tyler and Justine, but she still loved her mother and she’d want to see her.
And that meant Tyler would be there.
Chase’s mother had always said she didn’t hate him, but Chase didn’t know how she couldn’t. She’d given Tyler his address because she was kindhearted and she’d believed him when he’d said Sophie was in danger. That was the only reason.
He blew out a breath and flopped into a chair.
“Dude, you all right?” Hawk asked.
“No, not really. I want this over with, and I want Sophie to have her life back. Who the fuck is going to read all that Russian and translate it for us ASAP? Who can you trust to do that?”
Hot Protector: A Hostile Operations Team Novel - Book 10 Page 19
