Mighty Men with Weapons

by Mighty Men

  “Stay down,” Nate bellowed after the smoke cleared.

  “Shit!” Colby shouted, walking through the debris and across shards of broken glass. His heart skipped a few too many beats and gasping, he called out, “Nate, are you okay?”

  “Yeah,” he said, his heavy footsteps moving closer and closer.

  Colby tried to see through the foggy mist. “How about you, Donovan?”

  “They got out,” Nate said.

  “Thank God,” Colby said, trying to find a light switch.

  Nothing worked in the front room thanks to the aftermath of the battle they never expected right at daybreak.

  “We were ready, Nate. They were just better prepared,” Colby explained.

  Nate’s eyes were glassy when he approached. Colby had seen that look before. His adrenaline pumped harder and harder, and Nate turned into the deadly killer the ISO had trained him to become.

  “Nate!” Donovan shouted from the back of the house. “Colby!” Rushing down the hall, he hit a light switch and amazingly, the damn thing worked. He tripped then, and Colby gasped.

  “Oh my God,” Donovan said, looking down.

  Nate froze. Colby rushed down the hallway and fell to Karen’s lifeless form. “Karen!” He shook her over and over again. “Karen! Damn it to hell!”

  Donovan crouched over her, too. “She’s gone, man.”

  “No,” he said, feeling for a pulse. Turning fast, he glared at Nate. “Damn you! Do something!”

  Nate’s eyes set. He couldn’t move. Knowing Nate, he didn’t want to see the proof death provided, and he damn sure didn’t want to feel anything more than what he needed to feel right then. Stark madness, fighting fury, and pure rage filled the area when Nate screamed out his anger, mad at the entire universe and ready to fight a war against anyone who wanted one.

  * * * *

  Two hours passed. Donovan helped Colby clean up the mess of glass and splintered wood chips. Then he said, “We have to bag her body, Colby.”

  “No,” he snapped. “Not until Nate deals with her death.”

  Donovan stared down at her. “You can’t expect me to leave her like this until he comes back. What if someone from guest services comes down here?”

  “They won’t.”

  “How can you be so sure?”

  “Because Shoemaker has placed a call by now, and he’s informed them of a mission in progress. He’s smoothed it over and explained how we are almost ready to tidy up loose ends. He’ll reassure them about damages he’ll pay and promise to have us out by the day after tomorrow, if not tomorrow.”

  Donovan walked into his room, grabbed the appropriate death kit and pulled out the body bag and solution to saturate her body. Sorrow consumed him. “We should have protected her.”

  “We didn’t,” Nate said, glaring from the backdoor.

  “Nate, I told him to wait,” Colby began. “I thought—”

  “I need a minute,” he said.

  “Sure,” Donovan said, dropping the bag.

  Colby studied Karen one last time. “Women have no reason to align themselves with the organization. This is what happens.”

  Nate knelt beside her. He picked up her small hand, and he cupped his larger ones around her fingers. “No,” he muttered. “This is what happens when you fall in love with the wrong man. This is what happens when you allow yourself to feel.”

  “That’s not right, Nate,” Colby said.

  “Isn’t it?”

  “No,” Donovan took Colby’s position. “She was careless, anyway, Nate. She needed protection, and we failed to protect her. End of story.”

  Nate closed his eyes. He thought of the recent promise he made. He couldn’t tell her he loved her because he didn’t believe in lying to someone in matters of the heart. What he promised, he fully intended to deliver. He swore to keep her safe.

  He failed.

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  “Is the woman dead?”

  “Yes,” the operative told Admiral Shoemaker.

  “Good,” he replied. “I suppose she’s the only one?”

  “Yes.”

  “Any further complications?”

  “No, sir,” the female operative said. “At least, I don’t think so.”

  “What do you mean? You should know whether or not you face other obstacles.”

  “Sir, we think there’s another operative here. Do you have another ISO in place outside of those we’re watching and those who arrived with my team?”

  “No,” he said, brooding. “Your ISOs are the only operatives approved for this mission. Outside of Francisco, Carrington, and Collier, you shouldn’t encounter other operatives.”

  The agent said, “We’re not sure whether or not the guy is with the organization, but there is definitely someone else watching the bungalow.”

  “Who is he?”

  “We don’t know.”

  Shoemaker’s blood ran dry. He felt every ounce of it drain. “Find out and report back to me. I’ll be there tomorrow, and when I land, I want to know what the guy looks like, what his name is, who he works for and what he had for breakfast last year on the first Sunday of every month. Do you hear me?”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “And with any luck, by the time I get there, you’ll show me three dead operatives. Four, if the other fellow is working with them.”

  “Yes, sir. I understand.”

  * * * *

  Darby watched Nate load a body in the back of a speed boat. He pressed the field glasses tighter against his forehead and squinted.

  Who the hell died in their cabana? Why was he or she important enough for Francisco to dismiss protocol, never mind exposure, and take the body out to sea?

  When Francisco first appeared on the cabana porch, he cradled the form in his arms and held on tight. For a second, Darby’s heart beat faster and faster, fearing the worst. Then he saw the way Francisco carried the body. Undoubtedly, he held a tiny form. With his mind at ease, he continued to watch out of mere curiosity.

  Who did Francisco care enough about to bury in the deep waters of the South Pacific?

  The motor roared to a start, and Darby heard someone call out to Nate. He pointed the glasses toward the row of huts and specifically, the beachfront bungalow.

  There, he saw the man he remembered.

  He looked larger than Darby recalled. A tall man anyway, Donovan had a certain presence about him. When he walked into a room, he commanded attention. When the ladies saw him, he won their approval and then watched them swoon, unaffected by their approving stares.

  Darby lowered the binoculars. He wiped the lenses free of residue and mist, then gasped when he raised them again. God, yeah, Donovan still looked like he remembered, maybe even more handsome than ever before thanks to the growth of a circle beard.

  Donovan stepped beside Colby Carrington then. Colby still looked good enough to suck into a blissful afternoon, too, but Darby couldn’t forgive himself or Colby for coming in between what he enjoyed with Donovan.

  The hairs stood up on the back of his neck when he thought about Donovan and Colby. Were they intimate now? Had they given into carnal desires while working together on the island?

  No way, he thought. If anything, Donovan was more Nate’s type. He knew the kind of men Colby preferred. Donovan certainly didn’t fall into Carrington’s category. If so, then Donovan was temporarily playing him for professional gain.

  He lowered his spying device once more. If Donovan made a personal contact sport out of Colby Carrington, then for the sake of revenge, Darby hoped he understood the rules well. When playing on Carrington’s field, one learned the games always changed. Any ISO going against him needed preparation, skill, and intelligence, or he simply needed to accept the possibility of losing to a man who always came out a frontrunner, if not a clear winner.

  Darby turned toward the sea. The calm tide rolled in and then drifted out, like the tug of the undercurrent refused to let the waves of salt water disintegrate
into the sand.

  Adjusting the focus on his glasses, he watched. Nate stood, knelt, retrieved the body, and held the form closer to his face. That’s when Darby saw the long hair and dainty features of a woman.

  Zooming in on the scene, Nate lowered his lips to her forehead, and as if the final kiss goodbye snapped him into a different mode, he tossed the body overboard and never watched to ensure she safely sank. Instead, he returned to the wheel and fled for shore.

  Back on land within a few minutes, Nate walked away from the vessel like he never used the boat at all. He stormed up the front steps without acknowledging Colby or Donovan and disappeared into the hut.

  Donovan and Colby exchanged a long stare, what looked like several words, and then Donovan hit the sandy beach while Colby went inside.

  Darby felt his heart race as Donovan walked closer. He kept zooming in and out, taking the time to capture all the things he loved about him. The way his shoulders squared when he realized he was facing the unknown particularly held Darby's attention.

  Donovan relied on his gut and seldom, if ever, did his sixth sense steer him wrong. Donovan stared right at him then. Darby knew he saw him, but before Donovan spotted him, he sensed him.

  Darby tossed his visual aids aside and watched the man he’d always loved, approach. Then, he saw him sprint.

  * * * *

  Donovan couldn’t believe his eyes. Darby Winslow was there with them, spying on them. What the hell? Had he decided to become the son his father always wanted him to be?

  Donovan ran. He couldn’t remember a time when he ever ran harder or faster. He sprinted up the beach and watched Darby toss his field glasses to the ground.

  Darby stepped away from a row of beach chairs and took one or two steps in his direction. Then, he backed away, like he suddenly had a change of heart, a different goal in mind that changed his immediate plans.

  “Darby!” Donovan shouted.

  Darby turned, grabbed his duffle, slung the gear over his shoulder, and started to flee.

  In a final attempt to stop him, Donovan made a sudden leap, jumping over an older woman sunbathing in the process, and the two men rolled to the ground.

  “Let me go!” Darby yelped.

  “Like hell,” Donovan sneered. “What the fuck are you doing here? Why would you run from me?”

  Pinning him under the weight of his body, Donovan stared down at Darby. Their hands were locked above Darby’s head, and he squirmed under Donovan's weight.

  “You aren’t going anywhere. Give it up.”

  Donovan stared into the eyes of knowledge. Darby always relied on facts and information.

  “Why are you here?”

  “I could ask you the same thing,” Darby fired back.

  “I’m here to die, apparently,” Donovan said.

  Darby’s eyes looked hollow. He had dark circles under them, and he looked a little frail, even for a muscular fellow.

  “Are you sick?” Donovan asked suddenly.

  “No, hell no,” he stated flatly. “Get off me.”

  “Can’t do it,” he said, taking the time to remember other moments like these. They used to love wrestling around on the ground. Donovan growled, “If anything, I may get off inside of you. Would you like that, Darby? God, I’ve missed you.”

  Darby turned his cheek to the sand. “I said get off of me, and I mean it.”

  “You want me off, get me off,” he said, taunting. He should’ve fucked him there, teach him some manners. What the hell did he hope to accomplish by spying on them?

  Darby tried to knee him in the cock, and Donovan replied with a “tsk, tsk” sound before squeezing Darby’s ribcage with his knees. “You gonna run if I let you up?”

  Hard and erect with the sweetest of memories, Donovan pressed his groin against Darby’s stomach. “Answer me.”

  Darby flinched.

  Prior to their Cook Island assignment, Donovan learned about Darby’s so called “condition.” He was concerned, but he also wasn’t sure if he believed rumors. Sure, he knew Darby had a few loose screws, but he also believed anyone killing for a living had certain issues the average person didn’t understand.

  “Let me up,” Darby said, glancing over his shoulder.

  Donovan turned and saw Nate walking up the beach. He moved faster and faster when he saw Donovan sitting erect on a man. Drawing his weapon, Donovan held up his hand. “Don’t, Nate.”

  Nate hurried over and tossed a chair out of his way. “What the fuck?”

  “Darby Winslow, meet Nate Francisco.”

  Darby stared up at Nate and held his breath. He probably knew all about the man on paper. He was cold, calculating, a definite killer. A man who trusted no one, he’d seize every advantage, and with Darby in Rarotonga, Nate most likely recognized the added benefits of meeting the admiral’s only son.

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Donovan paced the open porch. “This is insane, Nate!”

  “Maybe so, but if we can’t go to Shoemaker, we’ll make damn sure he comes to us.”

  “He’s not going to show,” Colby said. “If he hasn’t been here yet, he’s not coming to Rarotonga. All you’re doing is agitating the situation. More ISOs will arrive here. Is that what you want?”

  Nate tilted Darby’s chin upward. He studied him well. Donovan wondered if he saw Darby the way he did. A handsome man with perfect features, Darby possessed a flawless complexion, but he also had his share of scars. One scar ran straight across his middle. Embedded in his skin, the jagged pattern left behind solid reminders of a past battle.

  Nate licked his lips and dropped between Darby’s legs. With his hands on his knees, he said, “Oh, you can count on one thing.” He eyed Darby’s cock and continued, “Shoemaker will show. And when he does, we’ll be ready.” His focus returned to Darby’s own hazy gaze. “Won’t we, Darby?”

  Patting Darby’s cock, Nate left his hand over the man’s groin, and Darby didn’t resist. Instead, when Nate moved his hand, Donovan saw the hard point of a thick mushroom head pushing against thin material.

  Donovan’s own dick twitched when he saw the rise in Nate’s pants, too. Hell, the bastard was getting off on the ideas he had in store for an admiral’s son.

  Colby grabbed Nate’s arm. “If you’re going to do what I think you want to do, you’ll die here, Nate.”

  “Then I’ll die. I’m tired of waiting on death like the afterlife has something better to offer a guy like me.” He turned his face toward the sea and shouted, “Here I am, Admiral Shoemaker! I have your bastard son! Come and get me, you sorry son of a bitch! Better still, come and watch!”

  “Nate, no,” Donovan said.

  “It’s the only way,” Darby stated flatly.

  Nate cupped Darby’s neck and kissed him hard on the mouth. “Don’t worry, Darby. I’ll make sure you enjoy every moment, on the chance it’s the last one you have.”

  * * * *

  They weren’t entirely cruel. In the hottest hours of the day, Nate moved Darby inside and allowed him to stretch out on the sofa in the cool breeze of the air conditioner. Then, when the sun started to go down again, they all returned to the porch.

  Darby and Donovan continued to swap glances. Nate hoped he wasn’t wrong about Donovan. He chose to believe in him, and thanks to Karen, he placed the appropriate faith in his team.

  Karen.

  God in heaven help him, he felt the loss. He felt her absence like he had fought beside her for years and years.

  Wrapping his arms around his waist, he glared down the beach. Shaking off too many recent memories and the unexplainable reason he felt so alone all of a sudden, he said, “Any idea how many of your father’s men are here?”

  Darby shook his head.

  “He’s been in a mental facility for crying out loud,” Donovan snapped.

  “You don’t say?” Nate drawled sarcastically. “Are you crazy?”

  Darby grinned. “As crazy as you need me to act when the time is right.”
/>   “Insanity may have instant appeal if your father shows up in time to witness the madness.”

  “You want me to act crazy?”

  Nate sneered, glanced at Colby, and then said, “About me.”

  Colby shook his head. “Nate, this is going way too far.”

  Donovan chimed in, too. “You’re going to get him killed.”

  “Not if he can act. If he can convince his father he is a little loco, then daddy dearest will march right up those steps and try his best to save him.”

  Darby suddenly understood. As if the natural light burned out of his eyes at the same time the sun sank behind the sea, he said, “You’re going to kill him.”

  Nate said, “I’m damn sure not going to ask him in for a drink.”

  “You’re using me to lure him, and then you’re going to kill him right in front of me.”

  “If that’s the only place I can, then yeah.”

  “I won’t do it, then,” Darby said.

  “Uh,” Nate said, scratching his chin. “Yeah, I’m thinking you will.”

  “No, Nate,” Donovan said. “You can’t make him stand against his own father.”

  “I don’t think I’m going to have to make the choice for him. He will willingly make it because if he doesn’t, the first shot fired will likely be the one into your skull, not mine.”

  Donovan flinched. “I’m a puppet, too?”

  Darby grunted. “Hell, we’re all his pawns. That’s how he works.”

  Nate crossed his arms and stood over Darby. “Damn if you aren’t a pretty thing.”

  “Flirting won’t get you anywhere, Nate,” Darby said. “I know all about you. I’ve read case files and personality assessments. I know what makes you tick and where your weaknesses are. I didn’t fly all the way down here without interesting reading.”

  Nate stared down the bridge of his nose until his eyes nearly crossed. “Then you have the advantage here, don’t you?”

  “I take it you don’t know as much as you’d like to know about me.”

  Nate shot Colby a sideways glance. “I know all I want to know.”