Nike's Wings

by Valerie Douglas

  Two fifties appeared magically in her hand, a trick she’d learned from Brad. She spread the bills apart so he could see them clearly.

  Chaco looked her up and down. A smile, slow and wicked, creased his face. A two-fer. He’d make Jackson happy and this girl, woman…whatever…if she was smart and as sexy as she looked, she’d be happy, too.

  “I know a man who might help you,” he said. “Name’s Jackson Cooper. Does a lot of custom work, specialized weapons. Best kept secret in Austin. Cops don’t know his sideline.”

  “Can you make the call for me? Set it up?”

  “Wait out in the shop,” he said.

  The clerk hadn’t yet returned.

  It didn’t take Dolan long, but Nike hadn’t expected it would.

  “You’re clear,” he said. “Here’s the information. He’ll be expecting you.”

  Nike looked at him thoughtfully and then held up another fifty.

  “Anyone else been around looking for custom work?” she said. “A good-looking man, dark hair, dark eyes, Latino, but no accent, a little over average height, thin, his voice kind of deep, deeper than you’d expect?”

  It was fairly likely Garcia already had a name and contact number for Austin or for Texas in general, but it was stupid to assume.

  Slowly, he shook his head. “A friend of yours?”

  Raising an eyebrow, she said, “Not exactly. Let’s just say we’re in the same business, just on opposite sides.”

  That he understood. “Talk to Jackson… He’ll know.”

  It seemed Buck and Jake had had good luck as well, as Nike discovered when she returned to the van. They’d located the elusive Enrique, tracked him down to hole-in-the-wall bar tucked away in an even worse part of town.

  The bar was like the cantinas of old, boasting Mexican beers in addition to the Latin music that thumped out of the jukebox and the stations on the old fly-specked TV perched in a corner of the bar. The screen was too small for a thief to steal and only just large enough for the patrons at the bar to see. A ceiling fan, yellowed by years of cigarette smoke before the ban, whirred lightly, moving around the scant coolness that pumped out of the ancient air conditioner. The breeze outside had been more refreshing.

  Not that Buck minded any of it. For him it was like coming home.

  He’d grown up around bars like this, the scents and smells familiar, beer and chiles, frying tortillas. The sound of Spanish was music to his ears, reminding him of home, of his exasperated mother shouting at him. He smiled at the memory. Maybe when this was over he’d go visit.

  He wasn’t alone.

  Ty sat in a booth with Jake Aragon, both with their backs in the corner, while Nike waited outside in the car. As soon as Jake spotted Enrique, he’d give the nod to Buck sitting at the bar.

  It was a lot like the old days, with him and Ty. Buck liked Jake, too. He was a good man, solid and dependable.

  “Enrique’s a fixer,” Jake had explained as he’d made the arrangements. “He’s one of the guys on the street who always has to know where the deals are, who’s got what, and who needs it. He’s a dealer himself, but of information. Everyone tolerates him because Enrique keeps his mouth shut…most of the time. If anyone knows anything, though, it’s Enrique. The only problem is, as soon as he spots me, he’ll know something’s going down, and he’s liable to run.”

  So they set Buck up as a new guy in town. A new guy with something going down, a profitable something, only he didn’t have the people or connections to make it happen. Word was Enrique did. He just didn’t know how to contact Enrique and he didn’t have a lot of time to set it up.

  That should have been enough to pull Enrique in.

  It had taken time before they finally tracked the man down, Jake staying out of sight, Buck taking point, until someone suggested that Enrique might be found at this little cantina.

  The bartender had been sympathetic, but not particularly helpful. Until he’d disappeared into the back of the bar on an apparent errand. One of the patrons suddenly found a reason to leave, too.

  They all knew how it worked.

  Enrique’s mug shots weren’t very helpful. They needed Jake to identify him to be sure, but he could also identify Jake. All it would take was a glance and a nod.

  If they were going to get any information, though, they needed to have everyone distracted, paying attention to something, anything else.

  A man strode into the bar as if he owned the place. His dark hair swept down to his shoulders in one smooth fall; his brown eyes were cocky and confident. His shirt was open nearly to his navel, showing off an impressive set of pecs and abs. All except his pretty face was covered in tattoos, gang sign.

  “That’s him,” Jake’s voice whispered in Buck’s ear through the microphone. “Showtime.”

  In the booth, Jake tried to fade into the shadows as Ty shifted to block the view.

  Watching in the mirror, Buck saw Enrique look around warily, letting his eyes adjust to the sparse light. The bartender caught his eye and tipped his head slightly in Buck’s direction.

  Enrique dipped his head in return, scanning the occupants of the bar.

  Then Niki walked through the door behind him and passed him.

  Conversation stopped.

  Every male eye in the place was riveted as she strode down the central aisle, her eyes behind the yellow lenses on Buck, sparing a brief glance for Enrique as she went past.

  Ty’s breath caught and he went hard in an instant just watching her walk into the bar.

  As a distraction, you couldn’t get one much better.

  “Madre de Dios,” Jake whispered.

  Ty couldn’t blame him, any more than he could Buck, seeing his expression.

  Watching the smile that curved Niki’s lips, that sexy take-no-names stride, her hips swinging, her long dark reddish brown curls spilling over her shoulders and back in a glorious mess, Buck couldn’t much mind being the center of that attention.

  It didn’t hurt that while she’d waited she’d painted her mouth a wet glossy red or that the diamond in her belly button sparkled with each step. Buck hadn’t even noticed her belly button was pierced until that moment. She’d left the jacket off and wore only her leathers. The well-worn brown leather pants clung to her like a second skin, the leather halter was stretched taut over those lush, full breasts. Her hips swung like a metronome.

  He knew that every man in the bar would be wishing they were him. Including him. That every male brain in the place sank south of the border at the sight of those curved hips in those tight leather pants, at the knowledge that a simple tug might free the skimpy little halter.

  Buck shook his head to clear it and reached for her. He smiled as she melted into his embrace. He let his hand settle on the rich curve of her hip as Enrique’s eyes glazed over. She turned and gave the man a seductive sideways look…

  Perfect.

  “Give me some honey, sugar,” Buck said and she turned her head, one eyebrow lifting to look at him.

  Buck pulled her to him, tasted that firm lovely mouth, the sweetness of it.

  “Oh, yeah,” he said, licking his lips. “That was worth it.”

  She looked at him and rolled her eyes, shaking her head.

  “Payback is a bitch,” she said softly, but he could tell she was amused.

  Buck grinned.

  “That’s our boy, Enrique,” he said, curling his arm possessively around her waist as she leaned into him obligingly, exposing the tattoos on her back as she looked over her shoulder at their quarry.

  Looking back at Buck, Nike nodded her understanding and arched her back a little to emphasize her assets.

  The pretty boy drew closer, his eyes appreciative as his gaze wandered over her body.

  Enrique didn’t even glance at the booth where Ty and Jake sat.

  “Nice tats,” he said admiringly as he leaned on the bar on the other side of her. His voice lowered as he looked past her to Buck. “I hear you want to talk to me?”r />
  He was nervous, jittery, still wary.

  “Yeah,” Buck said, his own voice low, to draw Enrique’s attention. “I need a little help. Think you can cover it?”

  “Maybe,” Enrique said. “First you gotta tell me the details.”

  Jake and Ty slid out of the booth, Jake keeping his back to the bar, both of them throwing money on the table to cover their tabs, for all the world like two men simply getting ready to leave.

  It was the fly-specked mirror on the wall behind the bar that blew it.

  Enrique’s eyes narrowed at the movement reflected in it.

  Suddenly he bolted. Grabbing a table, he swung it at Ty and Jake, tangling them up.

  “Shit,” Buck growled. “He knows. Go, Niki. I’ll take the back way.”

  Nike was already on the run. Even as she ran she clipped her headset to her ear, drew the holsters with her little automatics from her purse, and tossed the cheap bag away as she clipped the holsters to her belt at her lower back.

  With a glance at Ty and Jake to be sure they were all right she raced in pursuit as Enrique straight-armed the door open. Bright sunlight burst in and Enrique shot out…

  She shouldered the door to keep it open as she glanced quickly around it, one weapon in hand.

  “Don’t lose him,” Ty said into the radio as he and Jake shoved the table back again, the legs scraping. “We can’t let him get clear, not now that he knows we’re looking for him. There’s only one reason we would be, we’re looking for information. If word gets out…”

  Pretty boy Enrique showed he had good legs, darting down an alley, his longer legs covering distance.

  Nike gave chase.

  “He went down the alley by the bar,” she called.

  Holstering her gun, using trashcans and a dumpster in the alleyway, Nike leaped for the edge of the roof, used her momentum to swing up and roll over. Scrambling to her feet, she sped along the coping in pursuit, trying not to lose sight of her quarry.

  Ty and Jake ran out of the bar, weapons drawn, Ty in the lead.

  Keeping his gun down by his leg while they were on the street Ty leveled it on the alleyway as they came around the corner and advanced down it, Jake a step behind him. Both he and Jake were wary of the cover the alley afforded their quarry, but they still moved fast, spotting Enrique when he ducked around a corner into another alley.

  From her vantage point on the rooftop, Nike saw Enrique draw and spin to drive his pursuers off.

  “Gun!” she warned into the radio, even as she drew her own weapons.

  Both men ducked back as a shot chipped the brick of the corner of the building while Enrique turned and sprinted away again.

  “Clear,” she called, close on his trail.

  “Niki, where are you?” Ty asked.

  “Eyes in the sky,” she said.

  Nike watched as Enrique darted into the entryway to a warehouse out of the line of sight of those below.

  He looked up to see her as she ran along the edge of the roof as if a single misstep wouldn’t send her tumbling into the alley. His blood ran cold. It was one thing to watch her in practice, or in New York, another to watch this.

  Still watching, he saw her change direction.

  “Next alley,” he shouted to Aragon. With Jake on his heels, he followed.

  “He’s carrying,” Ty said, into the radio, uncertain whether or not Buck had heard Niki’s transmission.

  Ty and Jake ran down the alley. It was empty.

  “I think we lost him,” Ty said. “Niki?”

  “Shit,” Buck said, over the radio.

  “No, I’ve got him,” Nike said. “Warehouse, side entrance to your right down the alley. Moving westbound.”

  Ty and Jake looked up just as she leaped, coming down on the roof of the warehouse, then disappeared.

  Although he’d seen it before, even so Ty’s heart was in his throat watching her.

  “Holy Christ,” Jake said. “Damn, she moves.”

  Nike tumbled, rolled to her feet. She flung open the rooftop access door and vaulted the railing for the stairs below, looking around below her frantically to spot Enrique. Shouts of dismay rose from those on the shop floor as he raced through the building along the iron-railed walkway to one side of the plant.

  “Got him,” she said into her microphone.

  In her peripheral vision, she saw Ty and Jake appear through the door Enrique had used. Ty’s silver hair gleamed in the sunlight that speared down from the skylights in the ceiling.

  “Above you,” she called, as she raced along the catwalks above the plant floor, her eyes locked on Enrique, calling instructions into the microphone even as she vaulted over one catwalk to drop down to the one below it.

  Ty looked up, watched as Niki dropped through space to next walkway. His breath caught. She was beautiful to watch in action, but his heart was in his throat all the same. She was like a laser beam, focused, unerring, painting their target.

  “Jake,” he said and pointed.

  “I see,” the Ranger said.

  They ran with badges held high in one hand, guns drawn, but held low in pursuit.

  “Buck, Erikson Trucking,” Ty said.

  “Coming around the back,” Buck responded. “I’ll cut him off.”

  The chance was there, Niki vaulted the railing.

  Enrique just stared at her, his mouth open, stunned to find her suddenly in front of him.

  “Don’t,” Niki cautioned, drawing her weapons as he craned his neck to look below.

  He did, scrambling over the railing to drop to the plant floor, narrowly missing being creamed by a tractor-trailer bringing supplies into the plant. Scrambling, he darted around it just in the nick of time and disappeared alongside it, out of the line of her fire.

  The truck screeched to a halt, its wheels locking as the driver slammed on the brakes.

  “Damn,” she said. “Buck, he’s coming to you.”

  “I’m ready for him,” Buck said grimly, his voice radiating his disgust. “I’d have been here sooner except for the damned fence someone put up between two buildings that I had to scramble over.”

  Shoving her weapons into their holsters, Nike vaulted onto the railing and then launched herself from it onto the trailer. She ran the length of the eighteen-wheeler as truck and trailer rumbled beneath her feet, then leaped to catch the underside of another catwalk before she dropped to the plant floor. She ran in pursuit, to back up Buck, calling out her location to Ty and Jake as she drew her weapons again, catching a glimpse of Enrique as he ducked through the truck entrance.

  “Heads up, Buck,” she called. “He’s in the truck yard.”

  With a gesture, Jake indicated to Ty that he was going to cut through the plant, come around from another direction.

  Nodding, Ty dodged around the tractor-trailer, looking for a glimpse of Niki or Enrique.

  Peering around the corner, Nike couldn’t see any sign of her quarry. She swore softly as she stepped out into the yard cautiously, her guns lowered as she looked both for cover and Enrique.

  Trucks were parked all around, empty trailers here and there, trash dumpsters to one side of the bay doors.

  Staying alert, she slipped along a side wall, knowing Ty and Jake were somewhere behind her and Buck was close.

  Then Enrique stepped out of cover, grinning at her.

  He wasn’t alone. Cell phones worked both ways.

  Three buddies were with him, all armed with serious firepower.

  She opened fire even as she dove for cover behind a dumpster. So did they.

  Automatic weapon fire chattered in bursts as she took the roll on her shoulder while brick, stone and cement exploded around her and she scrambled behind a dumpster.

  “He brought friends,” Niki said into the microphone, tucked in behind the dumpster, rolling her arm around the side to fire off a shot to keep them from leaving. Or advancing on her.

  More gunfire broke out. Bullets hammered the dumpster she crouched behind
and sent concrete dust spraying from the block walls above and around her.

  The unmistakable sound of a burst of automatic weapons fire broke out as Ty reached the entrance to the plant and his gut went cold.

  Niki.

  Leading with his weapon, he ducked his head quickly around the corner.

  To his relief he could see her crouched by the dumpster, looking around it cautiously.

  He couldn’t see Enrique or his companions; they were blocked from his view by the dumpster and one of the trucks.

  A voice called out, “Texas Ranger. Drop your weapons.”

  Jake had a clear view and a pretty good shot at all three. Or so he thought.

  Only problem was, he couldn’t hit all three at once.

  Cautiously, Nike peered around the corner of the dumpster. All four turned to face Jake, the more immediate threat, and opened fire.

  “Behind you, Niki,” Ty’s deep voice said, nearly simultaneously, in her ear.

  She didn’t turn to look, keeping her eyes on the four men in front of her, but she was relieved to know he had her back. She had cover.

  “You heard the man,” she said, moving around the dumpster cautiously to confront the four, “drop them.”

  They split, two opening fire on her and Jake, as Enrique, grinning, reached into his pocket.

  Nike spun around behind cover even as Jake did.

  Given the opening, the four bolted. Enrique let what was in his hand fall…it struck the ground, bounced, rolled…

  Nike had no choice. She broke cover and went after them, her gun leveled…as did Jake, coming from her left.

  The four skidded to a stop as Buck stepped into their path, gun leveled, his body partially behind the cover of a parked forklift.

  “Do it, drop them,” he said.

  Panic flashed across all four faces as they looked back at the object that now rolled and bounced across the pavement.

  Ty came around the corner of the truck entrance, his gun leveled to cover Niki.

  All he saw was Niki and Buck, Jake, all in the field of fire…

  And what Enrique had dropped.

  A grenade.

  It was a recent innovation of the cartels, who’d started stockpiling them. Lately they’d been finding grenades on a lot of the cartel’s people. It was the ultimate leveler. As they were now learning.