by Ann Jensen
Her back popped as she stretched. “You take me to the nicest places.”
Max chuckled and swung off the bike with obnoxious ease, not showing a single sign of discomfort. “Well, it isn’t luxury. But I promise no one’s gonna find us here.”
Avery winced. It wasn’t that she had forgotten why they were here, more that she wanted to forget. Maybe she was getting too used to being safe around Max. He had insisted they sweep everything they had for bugs before even taking off to find this place.
After finding the tracker on his bike, Max had insisted on re-sweeping everything. Avery lost her patience the third time he made her stand still for a search and ended up getting a hard swat on her ass for her bitching. The idea that he cared so much about her was foreign, so his heightened sense of overprotectiveness felt a little overwhelming.
“How long are we going to be here?” She stepped to the left and saw a fairly new black pickup truck parked alongside the cabin. Did somebody actually live here?
“Hawk’s gonna be joining us later. He wasn’t able to give me much information, so he’s going to be bringing information and supplies.”
“So, a long time?” It was hard not to tease him when he got all serious.
“Once we make a plan, I’ll inform you of what it is.” Max’s expression didn’t change, her teasing having little to no outward effect.
“Yes, Sir, Mountain Sergeant Sir.” Avery flicked him a salute. “The little lady will stay quiet and enjoy her camping.”
Max’s stoic expression broke into a smile, and he barked a startled laugh. Avery loved the sound of it and smiled back at him. She took perverse pleasure in the fact she could make him happy.
“This isn’t camping. This is nothing but the best for my delicate lady.”
Avery resisted the urge to stick out her tongue. “Thanks, I’m overwhelmed with the luxury.”
Max’s smile faded. “It really is compared to some places I’ve stayed. I can’t tell you how many times I’ve slept out without a roof over my head.”
Her curiosity was piqued. “Was that back during your time in the military?”
Would he share something from his past? He had opened up to her before, but it seemed like a rare occurrence. Everything she had learned about him made her want to discover more. Her feelings for him grew with everything she learned. She still felt like she had barely scratched the surface of the complicated man.
“I haven’t had to do anything as rough as the men stationed in the desert.” He looked up at the night sky. “My missions were more in Eastern European countries or China. But there were a few times on my way to or from a mission that there wasn’t any sort of lodging available. So I did what was necessary.”
Max strode away without a glance, up the two steps, across the wooden porch and through the open door to the cabin. She could tell he was uncomfortable. But she wasn’t ready to give up on their conversation just yet.
Avery followed him inside and found the cabin had a studio apartment layout. One large room with some appliances against the back wall. A bed was against the left wall and a single door that probably led, thank goodness, to the bathroom off to the right. She came up behind her gorgeous man and wrapped her arms around his waist.
“Why did you leave the military?”
“Not sure you’d actually say I left. More, I’d done my time.” He turned around, wrapped his arms around her. “The service I was in, there isn’t any leaving. Or at least not in the conventional sense.”
“What do you mean?”
“I mean, I knew things and did things, that Uncle Sam never wanted the general populace to know about. I always knew the only way out was in a pine box.” His grip tightened a bit, and her heart skipped a beat.
“But you’re out. And you’re here.” Or was he still in? What was he trying to tell her?
“Yeah, but Uncle Sam doesn’t know that.”
“What do you mean?”
“I mean, when I finally realized I couldn’t follow their orders anymore. Wouldn’t do the things they asked me to do. I made a choice.” He stroked her hair, as if trying to gain comfort from the touch.
“What did they want you to do?” She held her breath, trying to picture what could be so bad to make a man who had obviously been dedicated to service, question that service.
“They wanted me to take out a man by blowing up the building he was in.” Max’s voice was tight, as if he was having to force out the words.
She pressed her cheek against his chest, wanting to give comfort, but needing to know his story. “I’m assuming this wasn’t a good man.”
“No, he was a terrorist leader. Had a list of crimes he was responsible for that would horrify anyone to read them.”
“So what was the problem?” She somehow knew it wasn’t the killing that had made him blink.
“His family and the families of his followers were all in that building. Women, children, over thirty innocent lives who would die with him if the building blew. Their only crime being married to or related to the scum of the Earth.” He took a shuddering breath. “Most of them had been as abused as you hear in any horror story.”
“Oh, my God. Why would they want you to blow up the building then? Couldn’t you take only him out?” She knew collateral damage was often a very real part of any military action, but the numbers seemed to be too high for even the coldest of hearts to find acceptable.
“No, the piece of shit never left the inner compound.” Avery could almost feel the frustration vibrating through his chest. “I scouted that place for over a month to look for an opportunity to take him out. He was too smart to show his head where a sniper bullet might hit it. No one but his inner circle ever got to see him. It would have taken years to work my way in to seeing him face to face. We had no agents anywhere even close to his inner circle.”
“They didn’t think it was worth the wait?”
“No. So I suggested a strike team. The place was well fortified, so we still might take out some innocents. But at least that way we could save as many as possible. Not blow up children in their beds.”
“I’m guessing your superiors didn’t like that idea.” Avery’s heart ached for the obvious pain contained within his words.
His chuckle held no humor. “Nope. The brainiacs in command all assessed there was too much of a risk he might escape during a firefight.”
“So what did you do?” She didn’t want to believe he would have gone through with it. That would have haunted colder men than him.
“I got command to agree to station strike teams at all the known exits to the compound. Used the excuse they might have fortified some of the rooms and didn’t want to risk him escaping. Then I went in with the explosives.”
Her throat closed up. Was there really any good excuse for forcing someone to kill like that? The impossible choice forced onto a soldier was cruel. To leave a man alive to do horrible crimes or to kill innocents and turn yourself into something evil. The excuse of the greater good had to be cold comfort when the cries of children would haunt your dreams.
“Did you get him?”
Max leaned down and kissed her cheek. “Not exactly. But he did die that night.” There was a sense of satisfaction in his voice that gave her hope.
“What did you do?”
“The reports all say there was a fault in the trigger on the explosives I was carrying. They went off before I could get them into position. Instead of taking down the building, they took out a guard shack on the edge of the camp. To anyone watching, the explosion ended the career and life of an unnamed Black Ops agent. However, the bombs sent the rats scurrying, racing out all the exits. A sniper team was able to take out the target along with most of his inner circle.” This time his chuckle held a little warmth. “I got several posthumous decorations since, even though I had been incompetent enough to get myself blown up, my planning meant the mission was still a success.”
“So they believe you’re dead.” The giggle she
gave was both at the ridiculousness of the situation and a release of stress.
“Oh, absolutely. If anyone in the blacker parts of the government ever found out I was alive, I wouldn’t remain that way for much longer.”
“That has to be stressful.” His situation was more like hers than she had known. Though having people believe he was dead was probably easier than being actively hunted. But one slip could change that.
“Not really. People don’t look for dead people. My current identity is solid, but even if it wasn’t, while I won’t be stupid, I refuse to live my life worrying about what might happen.”
“How did you end up with the Dark Sons?” Going from one side of the law to the other had to be an interesting story. Hopefully, one that would lighten the mood.
“I bought a motorcycle. I was riding around trying to figure out what I was gonna do with my life.” His grip around her loosened, and she leaned back and gave him a smile. “It was a crazy feeling. I had never really had that freedom before. There was a mission early in my career and several of the men on the SEAL Team were members of the Dark Sons, Los Angeles. Hell, I barely remembered them or the mission, but I ran into them at a bar. When they recognized me, I should have pretended not to know them but I needed to connect with some other human beings for a while.”
She smiled and enjoyed how the memory seemed to light up his eyes. “So they didn’t turn you in?”
“No. Though they only knew one of my many cover names and none of what had gone on. They accepted me, no questions asked. Offered me a brotherhood. One the military had denied me when they pulled me out of the Marines in boot camp. I never regretted it. They don’t care who I was, only who I am now. They will have my back no matter what.”
Avery closed her eyes and leaned against his broad chest. What would it be like to really belong somewhere? Have people willing to have your back no matter what. She had never had anything like that in her life. The feel of Max’s arms around her was the most comfort anyone had offered her since childhood.
“I’m worried Akula might have been right.” It was easier to speak the words when she wasn’t looking at him and with the warmth of his chest pressed up against her cheek. “What if there is no way to prove myself innocent?”
“Then we figure something else out.” It was such a simple sentence that gave her more hope when spoken by someone else.
“Victor has to pay.” Max needed to understand that while she might give up on proving herself innocent, she would not give up on vengeance for Nate.
“Don’t worry about that, Wildcat. I let him go once. That won’t be happening again.” The feeling of him kissing the top of her head made her smile. “Either way, there’s nothing we can do right now. It’s been a long day and we’re both exhausted.”
“We should try to grab some sleep before Hawk gets here.”
“How long do you think he’ll be?”
“He’s at least going to be another hour or two. I’ll get a message when he’s on his way. And from that point, we’re still another hour out from where he is right now.” She knew they should probably move, but she was going to stay in his arms as long as he let her.
“What did he say about Akula?”
“He didn’t say much. But I don’t think he could talk freely.”
“Do you think she is his girlfriend?” Avery’s head bounced up and down as Max chuckled.
“Who knows? That man might even have more mysteries than I do.” Max took a deep breath. “I don’t think she gave you her real name.”
“Why not?”
“Akula isn’t a common name, but it means shark in Russian. If she’s what I suspect she is, it is probably a reference to a type of blade used in hunting.”
“Well, I guess it shouldn’t surprise me. Since none of you like to use real names.”
“What, you don’t like your new name, Wildcat?”
Avery shrugged. They stood like that for a few minutes, and she let the silence and the warmth of his arms help her mind drift. If she didn’t clear her name, she would have to adopt a new one. If she was honest with herself, she really enjoyed the Wildcat nickname Max had given her. It was another one of those things that showed he didn’t think she was weak. Could she think of herself that way?
Maybe it was time to start owning her new identity. Changing who she was. It didn’t mean giving up her past goals, just making new ones. The truth was, she would need to redefine herself, even if she managed to prove her innocence. She would start over. Do something she wanted. How much more blood would she have on her hands before she would be free to start fresh?
Chapter 24
It’s not the skeletons in a person’s closet you have to worry about. It’s the zombies.
* * *
Max enjoyed the warm feeling of his woman sleeping against his chest. She was exhausted and probably needed more than a single night of good sleep. The minute they had lain down, she had lost consciousness. It was humbling the amount of trust that showed.
Victor was a snake in the grass, and Max had no problem eliminating him. But would taking him out solve her problems? She needed closure more than anything else. Cat deserved to live in the light instead of in the shadows with him.
The truth of the matter was, he was a selfish man. He didn’t want to give her up. Confronting Victor without killing him risked exposure. If the Russians discovered he was still alive, they would want him dead. But that wasn’t what worried him.
If people within the Bratva connected him to his old identity, then it was very probable that Uncle Sam would find out he wasn’t dead as well. Faking his own death was probably something that could only be done once. But if it was a choice between getting Wildcat what she needed and exposing himself, he would take that risk.
The sound of the motorcycle coming closer to the cabin wasn’t a surprise, since he had received a text from Hawk about an hour ago. Max slipped his arm out from underneath Cat’s head and gave a small smile as she grumbled and crawled deeper into the blankets. She would be pissed at him later if he didn’t wake her, but she needed her sleep and he needed some time to talk to his President.
Max walked out into the evening to wait on the porch, closing the door behind him. The night air was slightly cool, but not so cold he needed a jacket. All around him the night animals went silent as the rumble of a bike echoed through the night, as it approached. Hopefully, the sound wouldn’t wake Cat.
The noise cut off, leaving only the echoing silence of a mountain night. Hawk pulled some bags off his bike and joined him on the porch with a serious expression that told Max he didn’t have good news.
“Hey, Brother, good to see you.” They clasped forearms. Hawk dropped the bags on the ground before sitting down.
Max wished he had a beer, but they had discovered earlier supplies at the cabin were very limited. Water and canned goods. Hopefully, those bags his President had just dropped contained more than clothes. Otherwise, if they were going to be staying here for more than a day, he would have to get supplies.
Ending his mental stalling, Max asked, “Any fallout from the police raids?”
His President shook his head. “Their warrants were specific to searching for your woman so they didn’t get to poke around too much.” Hawk reached into one of the bags and pulled out two beers. He handed one over, then opened his and took a sip. “After they brought in the dogs, they tore apart your place and the basement of the Clubhouse.”
Max didn’t like the fact that anyone had been in his house. He didn’t keep anything illegal there, so it wouldn’t be a problem, but it still grated on his nerves. “I’m surprised he pushed the whole thing as far as he did since we know the whole raid was a setup to flush us out for the assassins.”
“This is a dangerous thing that we’ve gotten pulled into the middle of. Victor Taylor is considered by the US government to be a legitimate FBI agent. If what you said it true, he’s a double agent.” Hawk took a long pull from his beer. “Accordi
ng to Tek’s search, he was born in Wisconsin. Went to college here in the States, top of his class and all that shit. Recruited into the FBI on graduation. And he’s had a stellar career, completely free of any funny business.”
Max frowned. “I know that isn’t true. There is no mistake. He might have one of the best covers I’ve ever seen, but that fucker is Viktor. A sadist and sick son of a bitch who enjoys making people scream before they die. I can’t believe he is even able to fake legit well enough to stay out of trouble for a few months, never mind the years he has to have been doing it.”
“That’s where things get interesting. The only reason Cami could break his cover is because of the photos from your file. There is nothing digital tracing these two people to each other. According to the records Viktor Gunav was murdered in New York five years ago, at the same time Victor Taylor was transferred to Colorado. Covers like that aren’t easy or cheap to establish.”
“I know.” It was hard to understand why they would have taken this risk or gone to this expense for a man like Viktor.
“You should have told me you had an unpleasant history with the Stepanov Bratva.” Hawk leaned forward, his mouth tight with displeasure.
“I was barely a low level soldier with the Borisyuk Clan over in Russia while they were still in thick with the KGB. My cover was never blown, and I never thought any of the people who I knew would come over to the US.”
“That clan got absorbed into the Stepanov Bratva and most of them were sent to New York to expand. What happens if they find out you are alive?”
Max leaned back and took a long drink from his beer. “With them? They’ll assume I was a traitor of some sort and probably want me dead. If they start digging into my old cover than it will probably set off alarms here in the US that would make my life very difficult.”
Hawk nodded. It wasn’t a secret to him that Max had faked his death to get out of Black Ops, even if the details weren’t openly shared.
