by Geri Foster
“Frank tell you her house got blown?”
“Yeah, what kind of yahoo blows up a woman’s home?”
“I finally figured out they were tracking us by Em’s GPS. You bring the new phone?”
Brody reached in his pocket. “No contacts or anything like that, but same number.”
“Good, at least she can make and receive calls.”
“So, what’s the deal?”
“Unaware anything was wrong, Em accidentally left her cell phone in the Falcon SUV, and drove her own car to the store. They read the signal from the phone, figured she and I were there, and they detonated the bomb.”
“Damn, if that isn’t enough to get every Falcon agent pissed, I don’t know what is.”
“Frank is plenty pissed. He wants these bastards caught,” Mac said.
“When I left the office he told me to do whatever needed to be done to wrap this up.”
“I know Em wants it over so she can get on with her life.”
Brody rubbed the back of his neck and slapped his Stetson against his thigh. “Jake is hot on the trail of the black car that pulled into Emily’s neighborhood and parked down the street just minutes before the blast. So we need to get going.”
“Okay, let me get things situated. Meet me downstairs.”
“Hey, Mac, that’s a good-looking dog. He yours?”
“No, that’s Hershey. He belongs to Em.”
“Who names a big boy like that, Hershey?”
“Em.” Mac petted the dog’s head. “He’s pretty well behaved except when it comes to food.”
A low growled sounded.
Pointing his finger, Mac said, “You know I’m not lying.”
That got a bark, and woke Em.
She rubbed her eyes and sat up. “What’s going on?”
“It’s okay.” Mac turned to Brody. “Wait for me.”
Em stood on wobbly legs. “Brody brought you some dinner. I put it on the counter. Hershey had a nature call and I took him downstairs.”
“Thank you, Mac.”
“I want you to sleep here tonight. Brody and I have to go check out a lead.”
“I hate to intrude,” she said.
Emily numbly looked about, Mac’s apartment. It surprised her. Situated in an elegant, gated community, she could only imagine how expensive it must be.
The apartment was so unlike Mac.
Meticulous and uber clean. Never one to bet, but in this case, Emily would lay money down that you couldn’t find a speck of dust in this place with a magnifying glass or a white glove. And here Hershey was shedding everywhere.
Earlier, she’d cringed when her dog and Mac had a tug-of-war with the bag of dog food, and the kitchen floor lost. Although she’d quickly cleaned it up, she didn’t miss the shocked look on Mac’s face before he turned away.
So much for the conversation they had about him owning a dog. An apartment this spotless didn’t allow for any kind of animal. Still, it surprised her that Mac lived in such a fastidious environment.
When she’d been alone with him, he didn’t seem to care if he had a toothbrush, nor did he mind using hers. The clothes he’d showed up wearing at her hotel in Moscow weren’t fit for a homeless man. In her mind, if necessary, he’d drink sewer water.
Then to walk into this?
The guy was a conundrum. Just goes to show you never knew a man, no matter how much time you spent with one.
He cupped her face. “Listen here, pretty lady. You’re not intruding. I want you here when I come back. Besides, it’s Frank’s orders.” He bent and kissed. What started out as a simple good-bye kiss turned into something miraculous to never be forgotten. His head lowered until his breath brushed against her face and then her mouth. The passion of him sinking into her with a dose of hunger.
Emily hadn’t been with a lot of men but the woman in her reached out to his masculine side and she felt the hard, firmness of his warm body against hers. His lips, hungry and on the prowl captured her mouth and without hesitation his tongue slipped into her mouth to taste and sample, leaving her panting and wanting more. He nibbled her lower lip before breaking the kiss.
“Mac.”
“Eat, watch TV, take a hot bath and relax. Nobody knows you’re here. If Hershey has to go out, the dog park is to the left of the building. You’ll see a sign.”
“I’m afraid I’ll make a mess of the place.”
She ducked her head, but he tilted her face toward him. “I don’t care how dirty this place gets. It’s nothing more than a place for me to crash.”
Em spread out her arms in a circle. “It’s so neat and sanitized.” She rolled her shoulder and ducked her head. “I feel out of place.”
Mac laughed. “You want to know why this place looks so clean?”
She nodded.
“My cleaning lady lives three doors down and she’s from Japan. When I moved here her older brother was harassing her because she refused to settle for an arranged marriage. I handled that for her. Ever since, she’s kept my apartment like a shrine. She bought everything you see. I could walk away from all this, and it wouldn’t matter one bit.”
“I think it’s lovely.”
“Then enjoy the hell out of it.” Mac put his arm around her and walked into the kitchen. “Listen carefully. See that small screen with four squares mounted on the wall?”
She nodded.
“If anyone besides me, Brody or Frank knocks, call 911 and lock you and Hershey in the bathroom. The door is solid steel.”
She looked nervous and surprised as hell, but managed another nod.
“That’s the best security system money can buy. On this screen you see Brody downstairs by his pickup, the view of outside the front door, the entrance gate, and the stairs leading to this room. Check the screen constantly. That’s all that stands between staying alive and someone taking you.”
“But they don’t know I’m here.”
“Should by some miracle they find out, and Em, the easiest way is for you to tell someone.” He held up his hands. “I’m not saying telling your sister was wrong. I realize your family needs to know where you are. However, do your friends a favor by keeping your location secret. People can’t repeat what they don’t know.”
Em lowered her head. “I’m sorry I called Victoria. I knew if she found out about my house, she’d be worried sick. I couldn’t do that to her.”
Mac grasped her to his chest, his lips captured hers and Emily drank in every ounce of feeling he offered. The kiss deepened when he moaned. Trying to get closer, she slung her arms around his neck. She didn’t know what she felt, only that right now it would be foolish to try and analyze the sensation.
After breaking the kiss, he moved across the room and squatted down. Hershey trotted over. “Take care of her, okay?”
Emily smiled as Hershey licked Mac’s face from chin to hairline.
“I’ll take that as a yes.”
CHAPTER NINETEEN
Ramón Marino puffed on a cigar before answering the phone. “Yes,” he replied calmly.
“It is done.” Bruno’s voice rushed with excitement. “They were both in the house when we blew it up. They could not have survived.”
“You got proof, Bruno?”
He didn’t believe in taking chances. For that reason he didn’t know if his head man told the truth or not. Bruno had been wrong before, and McKinsey proved to be one hard bastard to kill. For the last two years, countless attempts had been made against the agent’s life, and he always came out on the other side alive.
“We’ll know when the police carry out what is left of their bodies. I have a man near the scene, posing as a concerned neighbor. I expect to hear soon.”
He wanted to believe Mac McKinsey had been killed. Also, he needed the girl out of the way. Maybe he’d finally let it all go. He only wished McKinsey had died by his hands.
For years he’d dreamt of the day he would squeeze the life out of the Falcon agent. He wanted justice for his sis
ter. It was McKinsey’s fault she was shot down like a dog on that dusty road on the Mexican border.
His beloved sister was dead because that Falcon agent had kidnapped her. McKinsey had destroyed the only good thing in his life. Pain pierced his body like poison arrows, and he silently screamed to the gods for revenge. Everything changed that day. Every dream he had destroyed.
She would have been eighteen in two weeks.
Now every American would suffer for what one man did. For one man’s cruelty.
Hatred burned his gut like cheap tequila, and seethed below the surface begging for an escape. Why hadn’t McKinsey died that day?
“Keep in touch, Bruno. I want to know beyond all doubt that they are both dead.”
“I will, jefe. I promise.”
Ramón hung up the phone and walked to the bed. A young village girl lay stretched out, anchored to the bed. A rope tied her hands and ankles. Naked, she laid with legs open wide, inviting him to fuck her. However much they protested, he knew they were all whores at heart and wanted him. Oh, they cried out, they screamed, they begged, but he knew their black hearts. For that they must be punished.
None of them were as good as Angelina.
Nude, Ramón picked the knife off the table next to the bed. Smiling, he stretched out beside her, his dick hard as granite. He rubbed the flat blade of the knife against his erection. The need to be inside the whore grew with each breath.
But, he had to pace himself. Too often lately he’d been overzealous and the girls died before he had finished playing with them.
That would not happen now. The girl, gagged and bound, tried to kick and squirm. He slapped her. “Don’t you realize how lucky you are to be here with me, puta?”
Tears stained her face. He gently kissed her cheek as he cut a straight line from her naval to the small patch of dark hair between her thighs. Not too deep, just enough to smell the blood mixed with her essence, all wrapped neatly in fear. He licked the side of her face and tasted salt, dirt and perspiration. Slowly, he leaned over and sucked the nipple of her small, firm breast, before biting hard.
She bucked, and Ramón rolled over, balanced on his knees. He looked down at his prize, and kissed her stomach then gently, with the sharp knife carved a heart surrounding her opening. Putting her femininity on display before the game started.
As blood poured from her wounds, he smiled. He planned to thoroughly enjoy this pretty little morsel.
With a loud grunt, he plunged deep into her tight pussy. His knife in one hand, her long black hair twisted in the other. Slowly he rocked back and forth. With each stroke came a slice on her face, her arm, her shoulder... until the sheets were soaked with blood and he came close to exploding.
With the knife against her throat, he cried out, “My sweet, Angelina.” Then he shoved the weapon deep into her jugular as he climaxed. Only the sound of his heavy breathing filled the room.
Ramón looked into the young face and smiled. His first of the day.
CHAPTER TWENTY
The delicious aroma from the paper bag on the counter had Emily’s stomach growling. Mouthwatering, she pulled out the food and realized she hadn’t eaten all day. Sitting at the white kitchen counter on a barstool, Emily devoured the hamburger and fries in a matter of minutes. With the last sip of Diet Coke, she looked across the room and saw Hershey sitting with his nose pressed against the window, waiting for Mac to return.
Even her dog liked the man.
She licked her fingers, then crumpled up the paper and put it in the trashcan. Casually she strolled into the bedroom. She stopped short of stepping over the threshold and blinked.
The bedroom walls were a faint, soft green, accented by bamboo floors, a tan bedspread, and a large vase water feature in the corner. No clutter, nothing on the dresser, nightstand, or chest of drawers. Only nature prints clung to the wall.
The lure of quiet, peaceful water, and serene surroundings relaxed Emily immediately. Tension rolled off her shoulders like rain during an April shower. Stress tentacles clutching her spine released, and she stretched the kinks out of her neck. Stepping into the Zen world of Mac’s bedroom, peace and calm embraced her.
She couldn’t find a thing out of order, and the sparseness unruffled her instantly.
Emily met heaven and loved it immediately.
What a contrast from Mac’s personality. He was big, bad, mean, rude... a spy, for crying out loud. This room belonged to a monk. Not the man she’d been on the run with for thirty hours.
Peeking around the corner, his bathroom gave her another shock. White Spartan walls encased by earth-toned tile, a multi-spray shower, large Jacuzzi and oyster colored double marble sinks. Emily marveled at the shiny brass faucets, a large mirrored wall, and a walk-in closet big as her bedroom had been.
Maybe it would be wise for her to go to Brenda’s and stay. Mac had instructed her to remain here, but how could she? This belonged to him, his apartment, his personal space, even if it didn’t parallel his personality. Even if Frank ordered it, Emily still felt the uninvited guest.
Touching her lips, Emily recalled the kiss they had shared. She wanted to capture that moment as she slowly ran her tongue over her mouth. She could spend a lifetime in that man’s arms, and not feel like she’d missed a thing.
Shaking her head, Emily reminded herself to stop dreaming of something that didn’t exist. Looking at the tub, she practically sighed. Those powerful jets would do wonders for a tired body. Reaching down, she turned on the water and undressed.
***
They took Brody’s pickup and headed east toward Colleyville. If Jake’s information was accurate, they were only blocks away from where the mysterious car turned in. Brody killed the engine.
Two blocks from the other Falcon agents they planned to connect with, Mac and Brody drove past the house with security gates. Hidden in the back of a cul-d-sac, Mac and Brody exited the pickup and met up with the two agents
Frank had put in charge of watching Em.
“What did you find out?” Mac asked.
Jake Taylor, a former Ranger operative replied, “The place is a rental. Leased about a month ago under the name, Mike Kent. Any info we found about the guy proved to be bogus.”
“Pretty smart move when you got the call that Em’s watchdog force had been pulled off.”
“You know Frank. He leaves nothing to chance. When the caller didn’t say the password right away, we knew something wasn’t kosher.”
“Yeah, that’s how he rolls,” Brody said with a chuckle. “Still, pretty smart to have two agents hidden nearby so you could follow and not be tagged.”
“It comes with the job.”
Mac faced Jake. “So tell us about what’s inside? I noticed a fence.”
“Yeah, but almost no security,” replied ex ranger A.J. Roddio. A.J. and Brody were best buds. They’d both been in the service together before becoming Falcon agents. “I don’t think those guys holed up there are expecting company,” A.J. added.
Mac and Brody looked at each other and smiled.
“Well, they’re in for a good ol’e shit-kicking surprise.” Brody said.
“From what we saw, the west side of the building is completely unguarded. No cameras, no dogs, and no security gate. Just a brick wall.”
Brody chuckled. “Piece of cake.”
Mac punched him in the shoulder. “Last time you said that I got my butt kicked, big time.”
Brody laughed. “You’re right, you did get an ass whooping...by a guy the size of a ten year old.”
“That’s when I realized, size really doesn’t matter.”
Mac turned to Jake and A.J.. “You guys find a safe place across the street from our target. If anything goes south, come in with all the fire power you have.”
“I counted eight outside. Not sure about inside. Four vehicles and a man on the roof. Probably a sniper,” A.J. offered.
“Let’s go,” Mac said.
Brody and Mac drove toward the house
. Mac wondered what he would find behind the walls. Whoever occupied that compound better be ready for hell, because the devil was on his way.
To stay hidden, they parked five hundred yards away, behind a school then sprinted to the house the back way through a field of mesquite trees and small shrubs. They crossed an empty side road then backed up against the wall.
Immediately the sniper came into view on top of the building. Looked bored out of his mind and evidently not taking the assignment seriously. And unlike Mac and Brody, he didn’t wear night vision goggles.
Mac had his Glock, a knife, and a couple of smoke grenades. Brody’s weapons of choice were a double-barreled shotgun, a Smith and Wesson.45, and two knives.
After a few minutes, Brody reached behind him and took out a rope with a grappling hook tied on the end. One small swing and the hook latched onto the other side of the wall. Brody climbed up first then Mac.
While Mac was stockier and more powerful than Brody, Brody made up for it by being tall, lean and faster than a roadrunner. As an ex Ranger, Brody could take out a target in seconds and nobody would even know he’d been there.
Brody was a wild-hair, loosey-goosey. Rarely did anything conventional, and anybody dumb enough to draw on him learned real fast they’d made a fatal mistake. Tonight he’d replaced his Stetson with a black sock hat.
Mac climbed the rope and they both laid flat on the top of the warm brick, waiting. After a few seconds, Mac swung the rope over and adjusted the hook. Silently they slid down the rope and looked for an easy access to the interior of the house. The longer they stayed undetected, the better.
Backs against the house, Mac slowly edged around a corner, and spotted three guys smoking a joint. They were loud little dumb asses, but armed.
Brody squatted down and crawled to the opposite side of the vehicle. When in position, he tossed a pebble toward Mac, who waited with a cocked fist.
When the first guy came to check out the sound, Mac took the stoners out with a left jab and a right hook. When his friend called and received no reply, he raised his gun and moved in Mac’s direction. He missed tripping over Brody by inches. Brody rose, and smacked the guy in the back of the head with the butt of his shotgun. Mac gave the third guy a jump kick and a roundhouse to the head. He went down with a thud.
