Battle with the SEAL

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Battle with the SEAL Page 3

by Leslie North


  “Yep. Because that means he hired both of us to do the same thing, pitting us against each other. Except we’re too smart for him. He didn’t bargain on us teaming up. Oh, and in case you were wondering ‘in deep shit’ is my favorite place to be.” She winked and sauntered out, leaving a grumbling Loki in her wake. Whoever the hell this guy was, she’d handle it. She’d met way tougher-looking characters during her time in this job. They’d all tried to take her down, but no one had succeeded. Not yet anyway. If she was going down, it would be because of someone far better prepared, and far better dressed, than this douchebag.

  From the corner of her eye she saw a shadow dart from the side of the building and knew that Loki was taking up his position in the rear. Good man. Now there was a guy she wouldn’t mind getting taken down by, or up, or any direction for that matter. But at present they had more important things to contend with. Like her mole, who had just stepped up onto the sidewalk and was headed for the cell phone store down the way where they’d planned to meet.

  M slowly made her way down there too, stopping periodically to peer inside the stores to allow Loki to get into position. By the time she stood shoulder to shoulder with polyester man, her palms were damp and her pulse was racing with adrenaline. Jobs always did that to her. The thrill of the chase.

  “You got my information?” she asked, staring straight ahead at a poster for a new smart phone.

  “You got my money?” polyester man countered, staring at the same poster.

  The sound of a gun cocking took them both by surprise.

  “I don’t know what the hell you’re up to, Schmidt, but you need to step the fuck over here around the side of the building so we can discuss this properly.” Loki’s deep voice was laced with anger. “Move it. Now.”

  M hazarded a glance at him then and saw his stony expression. This wasn’t part of her original plan, but the guy had a loaded weapon pointed directly at the base of her mole’s skull. Now wasn’t the best time to argue about it.

  They walked slowly to the other end of the strip mall complex and around the corner into the shadows. As soon as they were out of sight, Loki had the smaller man pressed back against the brick wall, a forearm at his throat, threatening to block his airway at the slightest provocation. “Tell me why the fuck you’re here and why the fuck you’re selling info on my client. And don’t even think about lying to me. I’ll know and you won’t like the consequences.”

  The smaller man—Schmidt, Loki had called him—clawed at the arm barring his escape and whispered, “I’ll tell you whatever you want, but let me breathe.”

  Loki exhaled slowly, then eased up the pressure on the other man’s trachea a bit. M felt the knot of tension between her own shoulder blades ease as well. “Spill it.”

  “You think this is all about your arms-selling client, but you’re wrong, man.” Schmidt coughed. “So wrong. These data leaks reach well beyond just weapons now. They’re targeting the military, stealing battle plans and coordinates.”

  “Fuck.” Loki inhaled sharply and M narrowed her gaze, putting the pieces together. If the government’s leaks extended that far, then countless soldiers’ lives were in danger. They needed to find whoever was doing this and end them. Now. Before innocent lives were lost.

  “Who are you working for?” Loki growled, hoisting the smaller guy up by the front of his ugly shirt again.

  Schmidt gave them both an unpleasant little smile. “Same as you, I suppose. An interested third party who wants to keep the status quo intact and stop the leaks.”

  “Why did you answer my ad on Craigslist?” M scowled. “Was it to track us here?”

  “It flagged on my radar. Figured it wouldn’t hurt to see what you guys knew.” Schmidt shrugged as best he could, dangling off the ground like he was. “Have to admit, I’m glad to see you on the job, Low. You were the best in a scrape.”

  Tired of this bullshit, Loki got to the point. “Who’s the mole, Schmidt?”

  The smaller man snorted. “You’ll never guess.”

  “And we won’t have to, since you’re going to tell us.” M pulled out a small, curved shucking knife from the pocket of her jacket and held it up to Schmidt’s cheek, the razor-sharp blade glinting in the pale light. “Who is it?”

  “Todd Martin.”

  Loki frowned. “The pop star?”

  “See? Told you you’d never guess.” Schmidt chuckled. “Nobody ever suspects that guy.”

  “I don’t believe you.” M brought the knife closer to Schmidt’s cheek and snarled. “Why the fuck would some jackass teeny-bopper singer be involved in selling government secrets?”

  “Because his real name is Tardova Marcagonoff and his parents were ex-KGB.” Schmidt tried to inch away from M’s blade, but Loki held him firmly in place. “When they cut a deal with the US government to turn over evidence of Russian spying in exchange for asylum in this country, the burying of theirs and their son’s pasts was part of the bargain.”

  “Shit.” Loki shook his head. “So some twenty-something kid is responsible for all this mess? Where does that leave us? Our missions?”

  “Well, I figure you’re in the same spot you were before. You want to save your company and she wants to get ahead in her career. The challenge is how to decide which of you will get what you want.” Schmidt eyed M’s blade warily. “Now let me go. I told you what you wanted.”

  “How do we find this Martin kid?” M asked.

  “He’ll be in town tomorrow night for the charity ball at the convention center.” Schmidt swallowed hard, then flinched as M pressed the tip of the knife into his jaw. A dot of crimson swelled in its wake. “I swear. My plan was to get in there myself if tonight didn’t pan out. Loki should have no problem, since his company’s backer is also funding the ball.”

  “Truth?” M glanced at Loki, who was still glowering at the little man in his grasp. “You can get us into this charity thing?”

  “Yes.” He eased up on his grip on Schmidt slightly. “I’ll call my backer as soon as we get out of here.”

  “Speaking of getting out of here,” Schmidt said. “I need to go. I don’t like being out in the open too long. Easy target.”

  M was about to ask if the guy had been careful about being followed when the answer struck like a bullet. Literally. Brick dust from the artillery strike rained down around them and the high-pitched whine of ammo whizzing past her ear had M ducking for cover even as she shouted out a warning. “Get down!”

  Loki was already on it, hitting the pavement while still keeping ahold of Schmidt at the same time. Unfortunately, the move was clunky and Schmidt’s head hit the wall on the way down, hard. He crumpled to the sidewalk in an unconscious heap.

  M leaned in, cursing, and checked his pulse. “He’s still alive. Not hit, but out cold.”

  “Dammit!” Loki ducked again as their invisible sniper rained down bullets like water. “We need to get out of here and find decent cover.”

  The headlight of a nearby parked vehicle shattered, sending a spray of glass everywhere. Other patrons at the shopping center were running around in pandemonium. M patted down Schmidt, looking for any additional information that he might have failed to disclose, but found none. Head covered with one hand, she used the other to point to a large dumpster at the end of the building. “Think that’ll work?”

  “Gonna have to,” Loki said. On his signal, they both sprinted like hell toward the dumpster then dove behind it at the last second, more ammo pinging off the metal Dumpster and surrounding pavement.

  “That was close,” M said, breathing deep to calm her racing heart. She loved a good fight as much as the next gal, but only if it was fair. This battle was not only unfair, they didn’t even know who was shooting at them. “What about Schmidt?”

  “He’ll be fine.” Loki cursed then winced. “It’s us they want, not him. The bullets go where we go.”

  A street light flickered on overhead and M got her first good look at Loki. She froze. “You’re hit.


  Crimson blossomed from the right shoulder area of his T-shirt, wet and sticky in the orange glow of the streetlight. Loki squinted back at the wound then hissed through his teeth as he gave his shoulder a tentative roll. “It’s nothing. Flesh wound. I’ll be fine.”

  The stain grew bigger as she watched and her doubts increased. “I think we should get you to a hospital to be on the safe side.”

  “No, really.” Loki said, cringing. “Seriously. I don’t want to waste any more time. If what Schmidt said is true, then millions of lives could be in danger. I swore an oath to protect my country and my fellow servicemen and women when I became a SEAL. I’m not about to fail on that promise now.”

  He reached down and ripped a strip off the bottom of his T-shirt then handed it to M. “Can you help me wrap it up?”

  She found him brave and stubborn, both of which could get them killed if not tempered with common sense. Her anger rose along with her admiration for him. He was a good operative, she’d give Loki that. Damned personable too. Hell, even her brother liked him and he usually hated everyone she’d brought home from work. But Loki was also exasperating in the extreme, couldn’t take a back seat on cases to save his life, and seemed incapable of shutting up for two consecutive seconds without running his mouth about something. And then there were all his pretty words. Too pretty, if you asked M. Nobody was that slick without a whole lot of shit to hide. And yeah, he was good looking. Probably more handsome than any man she’d ever seen—all cut lines and chiseled perfection. But beauty sometimes hid the worst beasts. Unfortunately, she’d learned that lesson the hard way.

  She finished tying off the strip of fabric around his injured shoulder then sat back, glad to find the keys to her car still in her jacket pocket. “We can run around the back of the building then wait until the coast is clear to head to the vehicle.”

  “Awesome.” Loki’s normally deep voice sounded unusually high-pitched. “You might want to tie this thing a bit tighter. I still think I’ve got a bit of circulation to that side of my brain.”

  M responded with a nice middle finger then took off around the back of the building, not waiting to see if Loki followed. He did, the sound of his footsteps pounding the asphalt behind her as they slipped through the shadows, spurning her forward. He caught up easily, his long legs eating up the distance between them in only a few paces.

  “You need me, you know,” Loki said. “Whether you’ll admit it or not.”

  Scoffing, she darted around a pile of boxes stacked at the rear door of one of the shops, keeping an eye out for any sign of their sniper, though chances were good they were long gone by now. No shots had been fired since they’d ducked behind the Dumpster and even now, the sound of sirens wailing in the distance grew closer.

  “You’re wrong. I don’t need you,” M said, grumbling. “I don’t need anybody.”

  “Wrong again.” Loki smiled, affable as ever, damn him. Did nothing upset the guy? They’d just been shot at, nearly killed. He’d been shot, for fuck’s sake, and here he was, happy as a fricking clam. “I’ve got the government connections, and the military. You’ve got the funds. Together we can catch this bastard before he does even more damage. If I lose this promotion I’ve got nothing. You’ve got your friends to fall back on. All I’ve got is me and my brother. My job is everything to me. If I lose it, I don’t have anything else. The people I work for have already told me that unless I can advance in the company and show them I’ve got the skills to succeed, they’ll cut me loose. I either bring this guy in or die trying.”

  They reached their SUV just as flashing red and blue lights raced around the corner, headed straight for the strip mall lot. A large white SWAT vehicle rumbled behind them. They were always called out to active shooter situations. M waited until she had a clear path to the vehicle than made a run for it, clicking the key fob button as she approached to unlock the doors. Loki followed right on her heels and they managed to get inside and get the thing started before the cops shut everything down. With seconds to go, she backed out of her spot and took off down the road, narrowly avoiding a light pole and some overturned trash bins along the way.

  It wasn’t until they were nearly back to her apartment that she finally glanced at Loki again. He was staring out his side window, frowning.

  “Sure you don’t want to go to the ER?” she asked one final time. “Last chance.”

  “I’m sure.” He looked over at her. “We need to make a pact here. Work together or walk away now.”

  She parallel parked on the street, then got out. Loki moved a bit slower with his injury, but stood by her side as she locked up the car. “No more secrets about this case. What you know, I know.”

  “And vice versa.” He held out his left hand. “Deal?”

  The last thing M needed right now was a partner messing with her mojo, but Loki was right. She did need him. At least for now. “Deal.”

  5

  “Tell me again why we have to get all dressed up for this thing?” M said from behind the privacy screen in her apartment. “I mean I get that it’s a charity ball and everything, but wouldn’t we be safer pretending to be part of the wait staff than guests?”

  Loki exhaled slowly and adjusted the gold cufflinks adorning his crisp white tuxedo shirt. “My backer is throwing the party. He wants us mixing and mingling, not clearing dirty dishes and refilling drinks. I was able to get into the national security databases earlier and from what I found, the singer’s our guy. Word on the street has it there’s going to be another info leak tonight. Best guess is it’ll happen at the party.” He checked his reflection once more in the mirror before grabbing his black tux jacket to slip it on.

  He had one arm in when she came around the privacy screen and his world rocked on its axis. M was a gorgeous woman, no doubt about that. But tonight… Well, tonight she was stunningly beautiful. She was also wearing the exact opposite of the demure little black cocktail dress he’d instructed her to put on. Instead, she’d worn a form-fitting burgundy lace number that hinted at her luscious curves and conjured visions of steamy nights and bodies writhing in decadent satin sheets. For once, he caught a hint of hesitation in her expression.

  “Do I look all right?” she asked, leaning past him to see into the full-length mirror behind him. She tugged at the delicate lace dress, fidgeting. “I know you wanted me to go with the black one, but it was too low-cut and tight and my thigh holster wouldn’t fit underneath it. Red’s not my best color, but it’s the only other fancy dress I have on hand with shoes that match.”

  Loki took his time, admiring her from each side just because he could, his gaze narrowed. All right didn’t begin to do her justice in that gown. The burgundy color brought out the creaminess of her skin and despite her opinions to the contrary, the color went well with her dark hair.

  Her hair, that’s what was different. She must’ve colored it again in the shower earlier. Gone was the pink, replaced by a deep cherry red that looked black until the lights hit it just right. She was exquisite. Truly beautiful. A vision he’d carry with him for years to come.

  He didn’t tell her that though, not yet. Their partnership was still too new, too tentative. He’d spooked her enough with that ill-advised episode in the kitchen when he’d damned near taken her up against the wall. No. They were working together now, to solve what was turning out to be a far more important case than he’d ever imagined. Lives were at stake. Any personal feelings or attraction he might be harboring for the beautiful M would have to wait until all this was over and the world was safe again. Then, maybe…

  “So?” she asked, giving him an exasperated stare. “Is it that bad then?”

  “You look fine,” he said, turning away before she saw just how much she affected him. “Ready?”

  “Fine? That’s all I get, huh?” She rolled her eyes and walked over to grab her coat from the closet. “You look like a walking cliché in that monkey suit.”

  “Low. Kevin Low,” he said, chuc
kling as he helped her with her jacket as best he could with his injury. His fingertips brushed the soft skin of her shoulders and his breath caught in his chest. Loki cleared his throat and frowned, shoving his unwanted awareness aside. They were partnering up to get this mission done. That was it. “At your service.”

  She snorted. “Let’s go get this over with, super spy.”

  They walked into the tastefully decorated ballroom of the convention center downtown about half an hour later. Loki helped M from the back seat of the car then instructed the driver to meet them back there at midnight. He figured that would give them plenty of time for dinner and the charity auction afterward, during which they could hopefully pinpoint their mole and take them down before any more harm was done.

  Loki checked their coats at the station inside the lobby then led M into the ballroom itself, where a good-sized crowd of about a hundred or so couples mixed and mingled while a small live band played in the far corner. Against one wall was a lavish buffet and open bar and against the other were tables set up to hold the abundance of donated items for the auction.

  M suggested they hit that area first, to avoid the lines for dinner and to check out all the items while everyone else was distracted with food. Loki had to admit that his backer had outdone himself with the ball. The room was decorated in tasteful shades of white and gold, with overhead lighting in pastel shades of purple and blue, casting an ethereal glow over the entire room. On each table were massive floral centerpieces towering at least four feet high and blooming with lush lilies and roses, and a large dance floor had been set up in front of the area where the band played. At the front of the ballroom was a large stage where the MC for tonight’s auction would raffle off everything from jewels and vacations to dates and dances with the city’s most eligible bachelors. As part of the cost of attendance tonight, everyone had to donate something to the cause. And there was Todd Martin’s grinning face—all white teeth and golden boy looks—grinning back from a large placard on an easel behind the table. He was, of course, donating the performance of a song of the highest bidder’s choice as his item. Given he had one of the top ten songs on the billboard charts right now, he’d make some teenage girl’s dreams come true. He’d also, if Loki’s luck stayed strong, squeal like a pig when cornered and confronted about leaking intel about the arms-deal Loki’s client had spent months orchestrating between a US-backed coalition and Chinese militants against the new communist party rising up in the East.

 

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