They just had to follow Connor and Jana and figure out the perfect time to swoop in. “Where are we?”
Rich stared at the black box in his hands. It was larger than a cell phone. The green light tracked Jana’s movements. That one of the men managed to sneak it on her was a triumph in an otherwise flawed operation.
But then Rich’s arms dropped and he started swearing. “Unbelievable.”
Luc braced his body for more bad news. “What is it?”
“The tracker’s dead.”
“How is that possible?” Reno asked, the shock evident in his voice. The big man’s face had turned bright red and his cheeks puffed in and out.
Bruce exhaled as he put his knife back in its sheath. “Connor Bowen.”
No, it wasn’t just him. It was all of them. Luc recognized the extensive prep work and admired it. Every last one of them had resources that put his own men to shame. “His wife is turning out to be pretty resourceful, as well.”
Rich threw the box against the ground. The plastic shattered and pieces flew. “Damn it.”
Reno got right up in Luc’s face. “I told you we all needed to go in.”
Holding on to his temper and not letting the bigger man see any panic, Luc tugged his shirt out of Reno’s fists and stepped back. “And risk having Connor and his team take everyone out?”
“He’s not some freak of nature,” Reno said. “He can’t protect his wife and shoot us all.”
Rich stopped pacing long enough to wipe his mouth. Whatever was going on in his head had his shoulders tightening. “Who says he’s alone? Maybe he met up with his team again.”
That was the only piece Luc knew he had covered. “Not possible. We have eyes on them. They aren’t out here running around and shooting.”
No, that was Connor and his wife. A two-person killing machine. More information that would have been helpful to know a week ago when this operation moved from the planning stages to implementation.
“Are we ready to stop underestimating Connor Bowen?” Bruce’s firm voice cut through the anxiety building around them.
Luc would not make that mistake twice. “I want his wife out of this right now.”
Bruce’s mouth twisted and he looked like he was considering the options. “That probably means killing her.”
Fine. The boss might want live bodies but experience said that couldn’t happen. Connor would fight to the end. Neutralizing him, ripping out his emotional center, depended on Jana. Kill her, destroy him.
New orders ran through Luc’s head and he ticked them off. “Hunt them down. Shoot Connor if you have to, but leave him alive long enough for the boss to talk to him. You can do whatever you want with her.”
Rich raised his head and pinned Luc with a glare. “About that—I think we need to meet this boss of yours.”
“Do your job.” Bruce delivered the comment then started a weapons check. Knives, a gun. He touched everything.
The display clearly didn’t impress Rich. He stepped right up to Luc. Barely any space separated them now. “I don’t think so.”
“You think you’ll get more money out of him if you meet him?” If so, Rich didn’t understand how the boss operated. He would not be threatened or bribed. He killed people who stepped in his path. Luc could already see a target on Rich’s chest.
“I want to know what we’re all out here dying for.” Rich pointed back and forth between him and Reno. “We’re the ones taking all the risk and some guy is sitting in air conditioning somewhere, keeping his hands clean.”
There was sharp whack as Bruce thumped his foot against the ground and let his pants leg fall back over the gun strapped to his ankle. “All you need to know is what he wants done.”
Reno shook his head. “We’re working under new rules now.”
“Exactly.” Rich stood next to his friend. Together they formed a wall of raging fury. “I agree with Reno. The rules have changed.”
Bruce shifted his weight from foot to foot. “No, they haven’t.”
Time blurred in front of Luc. Before he could blink, Bruce drew his weapon and fired. A red dot formed on Reno’s forehead. His mouth stayed open as his body dropped in a heap to the ground. Down on the rock and right over the edge, rolling through the brush until he came to a stop in an unmoving sprawl.
Rich’s hands went into the air and his wide-eyed stare followed his friend’s descent. Then he turned and went right for Bruce.
“Try me.” Bruce’s gun didn’t waver and the man didn’t show a bit of remorse.
“Why?”
Bruce ignored Rich’s question. “Go grab your friend’s weapons and anything that can tie him to this operation. We leave in five minutes to find Jana Bowen.”
Rich’s knees gave out and he bent over with his hands on his thighs. “You killed him.”
“Consider it a warning.”
A tense silence followed Bruce’s comment. The men faced each other, neither moving. It was a standoff between two lethal and very stubborn men. Both held weapons but only Bruce looked ready to pull the trigger and walk away. Rich’s gaze kept sweeping down the small hill to where his friend’s body lay.
A bloodbath came next and Luc didn’t want or need that. “Do it now, Rich.”
The hesitation stretched until Rich looked away. He jogged over the rise and slid down through the dry shrubs and wall of small rocks.
“That was a mistake.” Luc kept his voice low as he stood next to Bruce.
“Let me worry about that.”
The man didn’t get it. Someone like Rich sought out revenge. Maybe not today, but it would happen. “You’ll have a target on your back now.”
Bruce finally broke eye contact with Rich’s back and stared at Luc. “Then you better makes sure no one hits it.”
* * *
Jana watched Connor pat down the three bodies. She couldn’t go a step closer. In fact, she backed up, taking tiny steps and moving deeper into the overhang of rocks. If she could have wedged her body into the seam and disappeared, she might have.
The stench of death refused to leave her. A slight tremor ran through her hands and her insides seemed to shake and squish. She kept from throwing up, but only barely. Even now the bile threatened to rush up her throat and choke her.
On his knees, Connor held up something in each hand and stared at her. “Satellite phone and radio.”
“Good.” She forced the word out. Balling her hands into fists at her sides kept her from rubbing them over her face in shame.
His gaze traveled over her and his eyes narrowed. “You okay?”
She was the exact opposite. At least her wavy vision had cleared a bit.
His concern registered and she rushed to lessen it. “I will be if one of the items you found works and we can leave this place.”
He jumped to his feet and walked toward her. For some reason she stepped back again. Not out of fear because Connor never scared her, but being wired and jumpy any movement only added to her skittishness. She felt as if she could jump right out of her skin.
“I am so sorry you had to do that. For all you’ve seen and been through.” He didn’t reach for her. Just stood there, watching her with dark eyes filled with worry.
Guilt. He had an awesome case of it and her reaction only heightened the issue. She wanted to reassure him but the words wouldn’t come.
Battling through the pain circling around her, she stood straight when she wanted to curl in a ball. After dedicating her world to preserving health and life, she had taken one.
In her head, she couldn’t make sense of the violence. Looking down, she half expected to see blood staining her hands.
He tucked the phone in his pocket and put the radio under one arm. “He would have killed you.”
A shiver ran th
rough her. “I know.”
“Listen, you did the right thing. It makes me sick you had to...” His strained voice trailed off. With his hands over hers, he leaned in closer, as if willing her to believe. “I wish I could make this better for you.”
Being there, holding her, not pushing or insisting she shouldn’t wallow all helped. “I know that, too.”
“You’ll work through this. Promise.”
She thought about the weight he carried and the horrors he didn’t share. He always said it was to spare her from hearing and him from having to relive them. For the first time she got it.
“I love you.” The words slipped out. Not that they were a secret or something he had to earn. She loved him every minute of every day and being on the edge of death she needed him to know that.
His palm cupped her cheek. “And I love you.”
He stood close enough for the radio in his pocket to knock against her hip. “Then work your magic and call for help. My only request is we go somewhere without gunfire or dead bodies.”
“Aren’t you demanding.”
“Hurry up before I add something else to the must-have list.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
The wink caught her by surprise. A shock of lightness spun through her. She kept her eyes focused on his face and her hand braced against his arm. Glancing just a few feet past his shoulder to the puddle of blood seeping into the dirt would send her flying back to that horrible place in her head. She feared closing her eyes and being overcome by the vivid mental images.
Connor skipped the radio and went for the satphone. He fiddled and pressed buttons. When it beeped several times and then the line clicked, she assumed that was some sort of ring. Hearing Holt’s voice had her slumping into Connor’s side in relief.
“Holt?” Connor being Connor, he made the connection and started talking. No greetings or small talk. “No time to explain. We had more men on our trail but took care of them.”
“How many?”
“Three.” Connor didn’t mention her shot.
She didn’t fill in the blank or take credit. Instead, she focused on the steady rhythm of their deep voices. The sound lulled her into a sense of security.
“They have to be running out of men,” Holt said.
“You’d think so, but there always seems to be an ample supply of men of this type.”
“True. Is Jana okay?” Holt’s usual no-nonsense tone came over the speaker.
“I’m fine.”
Connor’s eyebrow raised but he didn’t comment. “Where are you?”
“Lampari’s house.”
The news had Jana’s stomach plummeting to the hard canyon floor. She wanted to ask why and hear what Holt had found out, but she held it all in. Marcel was the one topic sure to make Connor go nuts and she needed him on his game now more than ever.
“Stay there. And get Davis checking on Boundless. We have some shipment irregularities.” Connor watched her as he said the words. “A guy I used to work with can help. He’s still black ops, but he had connections and intel. His name is Drake Federson. Have Davis use the dark blue cell phone in my top desk drawer. There’s one number but tell him to talk fast.”
As she listened, Holt delivered the same information Connor gave her but with a little more detail. Through it all one thing was clear—Connor believed that whatever happened in the charity office was tied to the kidnapping.
She didn’t see the connection but it was possible this all stretched back to when they’d met. She couldn’t ignore the charity incongruities or the fact Marcel had missed them. Again.
The line crackled before Holt started talking. “You staying under?”
“It’s too dangerous for us to be moving around out here. The hired guns could be anywhere, including near you. So watch.”
“Of course.”
“We’ll meet up with you when the sun goes down.” Connor gave a quick look around. “If the satphone service goes out, meet at Lampari’s yard at nineteen hundred.”
“Joel is trying to break through whatever blocked our signal earlier and trace it back to the source.”
Connor nodded. “He’ll figure it out.”
There it was. The absolute certainty in his men’s skills. Connor acted as if they could wiggle out of any situation and break any code. He made her believe it, too.
“Out.”
She could almost see Holt nod as he broke the connection. The ease with which Holt and Connor communicated settled her nasty case of nerves. The two men didn’t get wound up and their confidence strengthened hers.
A boot from the downed man caught her attention and she angled her body to block it again. The temptation to plaster on a fake smile came and went. She didn’t have to pretend with Connor. She knew that much.
She folded her arms then refolded them. She finally settled for resting a hand on the top of his belt. “What happens until tonight?”
“We put more distance between us and these bodies.”
“I’m all for that.”
“Davis will advise the proper authorities and get cleanup out here once the danger dies down.” Connor glanced behind him. “We need to identify these men and give them proper burials.”
Even with death Connor insisted on dignity. Of the many things she loved about him, his refusal to see the bad guys as less than human was one of them. He would kill and protect but he told her there were limits. She suspected that at some point either he or someone he worked with in the past breeched those limits.
“Until then, we wait out the afternoon.” He kissed her forehead.
Heat blasted through her from out of nowhere. The shaking inside her took on a very different feel. Call it adrenaline or a will to live, but in that moment she wanted his arms around her and his mouth on hers. “Interesting.”
He must have sensed the change in mood because his body tensed and his head lifted again, nice and slow. “Is it?”
“You, me and a cave?” Her fingers slipped over his scruff, loving the rough feel against her skin. “Not this one, but another one.”
“It’s too dangerous.” But his hands tightened on her waist and his body brushed against hers.
“Absolutely.” But it had been so long and her need for him pulsed inside her.
“And then there’s the part where we’re still fighting.”
She kissed his chin. “Not about this. We’ve always communicated just fine on this level.”
“Are you trying to seduce me?” The hand skimming down her back and over her backside said that was fine with him.
Her mouth moved to the space just below his ear. “Is it working?”
“I’ll let you know when we get to the cave.”
Chapter Nine
Holt stood across from where Marcel sat on his couch. After them pounding on the door and throwing Jana’s name around a few times, the guy finally let them in. Reluctantly. He didn’t exactly offer up drinks and information. He was too busy staring at the back of his hands.
Footsteps signaled Shane’s return from his trip to the bathroom down the hall. His fake trip that covered up his recon. No one could assess and categorize a place like Shane. In a few minutes he could survey the place, take it all in then spit out a description of the setting, down to the books in the bookcase, hours later.
Cam called it a photographic memory. Shane called it a gift he’d never asked for. Either way, it served the team well more than once.
Now he lounged in the doorway between the family room and the hall leading to the rest of the house. His eyes were half closed but Holt knew his friend noticed everything.
Shane had learned to sleep in short bursts. No question he was wide awake and ready for battle. The slight shake of his head said they were alone and he didn’t find a
nything out of the ordinary.
That was a shame. Holt hoped for a quick and not-so-dirty end to this. Looked like they had to push through it the hard way. And that meant cracking this guy.
He could dance around it and work on his subtlety but Holt suspected moving in for the kill would shake up this uptight dude. And Holt wanted to shake him hard. Starting now. “Anything you want to tell us about the charity?”
Marcel’s head came up fast. “Excuse me?”
“Some troubles you forgot to mention, maybe?” Shane managed to look bored and sound menacing at the same time.
Holt wished he had that skill. He tended to jump right to scaring the crap out of people who deserved much worse. Probably had something to do with his size. At six-three he often towered over people and his sister insisted he’d never learned to smile. Another effective tool, but he sensed this guy had information he wasn’t sharing. If whatever this Marcel left unsaid put Jana in danger, Connor wouldn’t have to rip the man apart because Holt would do it for him.
The papers at the charity offices might provide a lead. Cam secured most of them before staking the place out and waiting for the attackers to return. Then again, the whole kidnapping thing could be a ruse to destroy the evidence. If so, a lot of dead bodies littered the ground because of some shipping issue.
That was the kind of nonsense problem guaranteed to get Shane riled. And Holt loved watching that.
Marcel’s back stayed stick straight. “Did Connor tell you I did something wrong?”
Holt glanced at Shane before answering. “What’s your problem with my boss?”
“Nothing.” Between the sneer and the wave of his hand, Marcel’s actions telegraphed the exact opposite.
Shane pushed off from the wall and came to a halt beside Holt. The stark expression suggested Shane was right on the edge of doing something Connor would approve of...and Marcel would hate.
“Head’s up here, but you’re not convincing.” Shane widened his stance. “At all.”
“Jana deserves...”
TRACELESS Page 9
