Heatseeker (Atrati)

by Lucy Monroe

She waved that off with one hand, demanding with a look that he answer her.

  “Yes. There were four men in the jeep. Between Cowboy and Spazz, they got all four in full frontal face shots.”

  “Impossible.”

  He frowned, as if something bothered him, but only said, “My team does what they have to in order to get the job done.”

  Someone had to have gotten dangerously close to get those pictures, though. “Thank you.”

  She shifted, unable to hide another wince, and his scowl darkened.

  She sighed. “The human body is not meant to withstand the convulsions accompanied by electrocution.”

  “Your muscles seize just as much during orgasm, but the endorphins and adrenaline protect you from residual pain.”

  “I can guarantee you, being hooked up to a car battery is nothing like sex.” Rachel found that if she kept an even and low tone, it didn’t hurt too much to talk.

  It was Kadin’s turn to wince. “I didn’t mean it like that.”

  “I know.” He just had a habit of spouting useless facts when he was nervous.

  “What are you worried about?” she asked warily.

  What wasn’t he telling her?

  “Spazz wired them for sound.”

  “So?” That was a good thing, right?

  “Jamila Massri’s name came up, but without enough info to know if she’s in any trouble.”

  Her entire body tensed, and she didn’t waste energy on hiding the pain that caused her. “What, exactly, was said?”

  “One of the men asked, ‘What about Jamila?’ Your target replied that she was nothing to worry about.”

  Cold chills went down Rachel’s spine. Abasi Chuma was not a man to dismiss a potential threat to himself. He had to have a plan for Jamila that would eliminate any threat she might pose. The least disturbing of which, but by no means without danger to Jamila, was moving the wedding date forward.

  The fact that the young woman’s name had come up at all in this context could imply that she was now under suspicion, whether because of Rachel or because of something else did not matter.

  “Stop,” Kadin ordered. “I know what you’re thinking, and that’s why I didn’t want to tell you about this. You don’t know what Chuma was talking about. He’s engaged to the woman. It would be strange if her name didn’t come up.”

  “But—”

  Kadin pressed one callused fingertip against her lips. “But nothing. Stop assuming worst-case scenarios.”

  That was easy for Kadin to say, but she’d bet he never took his own advice in that regard. Assuming “worst case” was something they both had to do in their jobs.

  No matter what, Rachel would not allow Jamila Massri to become collateral damage.

  Surging to her knees, Rachel ignored the pain spiking through her muscles at the movement, though she could do nothing about the way her body swayed. “I need to get to her.”

  “Calm down. You’re not going anywhere right this second.”

  She glared. That’s what you think.

  Instead of looking worried, he chuckled, the sound warm and too familiar for comfort.

  “What’s so funny?” she asked with enough censure to put some strain on her vocal cords.

  “Well, you’re not exactly dressed for a hike down the mountain.” His gaze had warmed considerably, and there was a message there she did not want to see.

  But his words registered. “I need clothes.”

  “You need to check in with your boss.”

  Kadin probably expected her to insist on getting dressed before calling Andrew Whitney, but she wasn’t the naïve girl he’d grown tired of all those years ago.

  She put her hand out. “Give me your satellite phone.”

  His eyes flared with surprise as she’d expected, but it didn’t show in his tone. “No can do. It will be safer to make the call once we’re in Marrakech.”

  “I need Whit’s approval to bring Jamila in.” She kept her voice even with effort; she had to settle for letting her urgency show in her expression.

  “Do you think he’ll give it to you?”

  “He’ll have to.”

  “Maybe. Maybe not.” His unconcerned words were belied by the intensity of his gaze.

  “She’s just like Linny, Kadin. So innocent, ready to wed a sadist, and clueless.”

  He frowned, his expression showing he had questions about Linny, but all he asked was, “Isn’t it an arranged marriage?”

  “It is, but she seems to want it.” Clearly the dutiful Jamila had no idea about the real nature of the man her father had told her to marry.

  “Maybe she’s into it.”

  “She’s not!” Jamila was young. Innocent. And totally ignorant of her fiancé’s sadistic bent. “Her father must know, though. He has to. He and Chuma are friends as well as partners in business.”

  Rachel had long suspected Dr. Massri of being one of the key players in Abasi Chuma’s organization, but she hadn’t been able to turn up anything conclusive linking him to Chuma’s illegal dealings. She told Kadin her suspicions.

  “You insisted on staying here just to confirm something you already knew?” Kadin didn’t sound remotely happy about such a possibility.

  “No.” Her throat, which had been doing better since waking, grew tight. “Not if I’m lucky.”

  “You were hoping the other honcho would show so you would have all the names,” Kadin guessed, proving he still knew the way her mind worked … or that he would make a darn good spy himself. Maybe both.

  But she liked the idea of his being a good spy better than his still knowing her that well. It would mean that too much of the innocent girl she’d once been still existed inside her.

  She nodded her agreement to his supposition, regardless of how he’d come to make it.

  Kadin didn’t lecture her on the foolhardy nature of her plan. He just shook his head with a wealth of meaning. “Cowboy will catch up to us on the hike to our transport. You can look at his pictures there. See if you recognize any or all of the men.”

  Again she nodded, figuring she’d pushed her vocal cords far enough.

  Kadin handed her another one of those foul energy drinks. “Your breakfast.”

  “I like your French toast better,” she said with a grimace as she took the drink.

  Kadin chuckled. “I do, too. Now stop talking. You need to drink some water after that.” He indicated the drink. “Especially after taking out the I.V.”

  She ignored the pointed remark and forced herself to down the energy drink.

  It tasted just as awful as the one the night before, but it didn’t upset her stomach.

  Considering the amount of stress-induced acid roiling in there, that was saying something.

  She didn’t argue when he traded her now-empty cup for a water bottle, but she imbibed in sips, not gulps. Both beverages had soothed her throat.

  A slight relaxing in the tension around Kadin’s eyes indicated he approved. She didn’t like the pleased feeling that accompanied that realization.

  Her brows furrowing, she asked the question that had been bothering her since she’d come to accept that the Kadin Marks who had arrived in her temporary prison was not an apparition created by her fever-ridden mind.

  “How?”

  “The Atrati get called in by The Goddard Project almost as often as the CIA,” he answered, doing her the courtesy of not pretending he didn’t understand the question.

  “Not the Marines?” she asked, surprised he’d left behind his military career.

  It was the dream he’d decided to keep when he’d dumped her and their dreams of a family and a future together.

  “The Atrati recruited me. They … we do things for Uncle Sam when a sanctioned military force would cause problems. I’m still a weapon, but in the Atrati, I’m more than the finger that pulls the trigger.”

  There was something in there, something beyond what he had said, but her thoughts were still too disjointed for her to get it
. Maybe later.

  “I get the Atrati, but why you?”

  “I requested the assignment for my team when I heard who the extraction was.” He started packing up things from around the small tent. “I didn’t know you’d transferred to TGP.”

  “You knew I was DEA?” He’d known more about her than she’d known about him and the changes in his life.

  But then, since Linny’s death, Rachel had made a concentrated effort to forget Kadin Marks even existed. And, mostly, it had worked.

  “I kept track of you.”

  Why? He’d made it clear she didn’t matter to him anymore.

  “Never called.” Or wrote. Or even e-mailed. Except for one sympathy card. She’d believed absolutely that he’d walked away that devastating summer day and never looked back.

  For all intents and purposes, that’s exactly what had happened. Whatever vagary of thought had prompted him to keep up with her career hardly mattered. Not after Linny.

  “I wasn’t a part of your life anymore.”

  “No.” By his choice.

  “I found out about Linny after the fact. I’m sorry.”

  “Your card said.” Delivered in an envelope without a return address.

  Stupidly, she’d hoped it meant Kadin would contact her again. She’d believed that maybe out of the horrible tragedy of Linny’s death at least that much good would come.

  Rachel had felt guilty for that hope. When she discovered it was a false one, she’d convinced herself that she deserved the pain that came later.

  “What happened?” Kadin asked.

  Rachel shook her head, not up to explanations.

  “Is that when you left the DEA?”

  That much, at least, she could answer. “Yes.”

  “You must have impressed Whit. He runs a pretty select crew.”

  She shrugged, the slide of the cover against her bare breasts reminding her that she was still naked. The blanket slipped down to reveal the upper curves of her chest, and she tugged it higher, but Kadin had already noticed. Of course he had. The suddenly heated look in his eyes said he liked the view, too. And, despite everything, desire pooled deep in her belly.

  He’d always had that effect on her. Every other emotion seemed to have died inside her with Linny’s suicide, but not this one. Not desire.

  It was like the cockroach of feelings, and right now all she wanted was a guaranteed exterminator.

  He looked away first, cursing under his breath. “I’ll get you some clothes.”

  “Thank you.”

  His shoulders jerked in what could have been a shrug as he backed out of the tent. The sound of him barking an order for something to dress her in was followed by Eva coming into the tent, a bundle of khaki cloth in her hand. It turned out to be scrubs, and Rachel was grateful.

  The loose-fitting clothes didn’t rub any abrasions or make her feel constricted, but they did make her feel safely covered, regardless of the fact they did not come with underclothes.

  Rachel didn’t mind. Her breasts weren’t so large that she couldn’t comfortably go without a bra. And the very idea of trying to get one on with her sore muscles made her cringe inwardly. Same for the thought of having to pull underwear over her hips.

  Just getting the scrubs on had been hard enough, leaving her panting, with beads of sweat on her forehead and trickling down the center of her back. It would have been easier if she’d accepted Eva’s offer of help, but Rachel wasn’t so good at letting others do anything for her these days.

  Another legacy of her many losses.

  The less she relied on others, the less chance she would be hurt again. She always had a personal exit strategy, one that didn’t rely on the cooperation or help of anyone else.

  Her mind grappled now with one for her and Jamila Massri, in case the Old Man remained firm on not bringing the young Egyptian woman in.

  Kadin’s thoughts were in a turmoil as he helped Peace pack the camp with efficient movements.

  How could he have gotten turned on by Rachel’s bare shoulders and that peek at the upper swell of her breasts when her face still bore the marks of someone hitting her and her wrists were bandaged because of the deep abrasions there? What kind of man was he?

  The kind he’d always known he would be if he didn’t get out of Rachel’s life completely. One who wanted her and everything she represented to him almost more than his honor. His honor almost was his personal salvation. He couldn’t afford to give it up now.

  But damn … it was close.

  “Your wahine okay to hike?” Peace asked, his Hawaiian accent thicker when he didn’t get enough sleep.

  “She’ll insist on it.” Even if Rachel wasn’t up to hiking on her own. “I’ll let her try.”

  “You make allowances for dis one.”

  “She deserves them.”

  “After what she been through? I think you are right, but it’s more than that, brah.”

  On this mission Kadin had found himself being more emotionally honest with his team than ever before, but he owed it to them. He was making choices with that stone in his chest he called a heart, and they had a right to know it.

  Besides, he wasn’t the only soldier recruited into the Atrati with a past full of regret. “She was my one and only.”

  “Was?”

  “When we were kids.” And innocent.

  Before the Marines made him a weapon, a man who had lost his humanity.

  “One and only, that don’t expire, brudder.”

  “It does when one of you changes into something else.”

  “Something like a MARSOC assassin?” Peace asked knowingly.

  “Yeah. Something like that.”

  “You aren’t that guy no more, brah.”

  “You call me Trigger, just like everyone else does.”

  “So you good with a sniper rifle. You a captain in the Atrati now. We specialize in protection and extraction.”

  “But we still wage war, still kill.” He’d killed as a member of the Atrati, too—maybe not as often as a Marine, but Kadin was still a weapon.

  “Warriors have been necessary since the beginning of time.” Peace shook his head, as if he was thinking that Kadin had a stupid bone. “There is no shame in being a soldier.”

  “No, there isn’t.” But Rachel deserved better than him, better than a man who could and would kill on an order without ever letting his enemy look him in the eye.

  “We’re damn fine men, Kadin,” Peace said without a trace of his usual Hawaiian laid-back manner. “Don’t you doubt it.”

  Kadin nodded, because on one level, he completely agreed with Peace. The men he most admired were all soldiers, or former soldiers.

  That didn’t change what he wanted for Rachel, what she seemed to have spent the last ten years trying to make sure she would not get. A decent, normal guy. Kadin had been knocked straight onto his ass when he found out that she’d gone to work for the DEA out of university. And not in the administrative sectors, either, but as an agent.

  He didn’t know why she’d given up her dreams of teaching in a nursery school until she could save up the money to open her own. Rachel loved kids, but she sure wasn’t going to work with them as a government agent.

  And now she was TGP, taking ultra dangerous assignments out of country.

  Losing Linny could have done that; Rachel didn’t have anyone Stateside to keep her there anymore.

  But what had changed his sweet and gentle lover into a woman who carried a gun and could withstand the kind of torture she had without breaking?

  Chapter Five

  Feeling so pissed that red hazed his vision, Neil took lateral guard position.

  When Wyatt caught up with them, Neil was going to give the damn Texan a verbal smackdown that would leave his ears ringing.

  What the hell did the man think he was doing, going all cowboy on them? What did Wyatt think? He was running his own mini-op, or something?

  Shoving his anger down with the rest of the emotion
s he’d been stuffing for the past year, Neil erased all evidence of the team’s movement through the forest.

  The TGP agent was leaving the most markers. The stubborn woman was barely able to stand without assistance, but she’d insisted on walking on her own.

  Neil expected that to last another thirty minutes—an hour, tops—and then Kadin’s patience was going to run out like the minutes on a burner phone.

  Moving at their current pace, it would be near dusk before they reached their transport. That would leave them driving down most of the mountain in the dark.

  No way would the captain let them use headlights until they were in a populated-enough area that doing so wouldn’t give away their position or otherwise make them memorable.

  It was a damn good thing Peace had eyes like a mountain cat’s.

  It was a whole forty minutes later when Rachel stumbled for the third time in as many minutes, and Trigger raised his hand to indicate they needed to stop. Because of their slow progress, Neil caught up to them within seconds rather than the minutes it should have taken him.

  The female government agent stood swaying slightly and blinking, as if she didn’t really comprehend what was going on.

  The captain’s expression was hard enough to crack concrete. “Peace, help Rachel onto my back.”

  That brought the woman’s head up, her eyes narrowing despite the exhaustion pulling at her features. “That’s not necessary.”

  Her voice was barely discernible, and Trigger’s expression tightened. “The hell it’s not. You’re done walking.”

  She shook her head but winced when the movement clearly caused her pain.

  Kadin made an animalistic sound that Neil understood only too well. Wyatt brought the same sound from his lips often enough.

  The stubborn bastard.

  “You need to ride,” Eva said, her tone brooking no argument.

  “ No. ”

  “If you’d rather Peace carried you …” Eva let her voice trail off.

  Rachel took an infinitesimal step nearer Trigger, though she seemed wholly unaware of doing so. “I can walk.”

  “We need to pick up our pace, angel, and we can’t do that with you walking on your own,” he claimed.

  “He’s right,” Neil said as he tossed a broken twig she’d stepped on into the brush. “I’ll be able to move faster clearing our six if you’re not leaving behind so much trail, too.”