TRACELESS

by Helen Kay Dimon

  This was the guy who wanted him but Connor still had no idea who he was. That only heightened the danger. He caught her right as a shot pinged into the ground by his foot.

  “Move!” Drake yelled from off to Connor’s right.

  Through the haze and the smoke, Connor got her up. The fuzz cleared from his mind as he dragged her around to the side of the burning building. The two newcomers came onto the scene firing while ducking behind the car. Neither was Marcel.

  The open area had turned into a shooting gallery. He and Jana could only run so far before dodging flames. The rapidly spreading fire pinned Holt down by the front door. There was nowhere for him to hide and the fire licked the beams behind him.

  Connor tried to focus as he took in every danger. They all needed his help. Cam was down, he had no idea where Shane had disappeared to and Holt was ten seconds away from catching on fire.

  Save his men. Cover his woman. The mantra rang in Connor’s head as the adrenaline built.

  Drake ran over, sliding in beside them and kicking up pebbles as he did. He motioned for Connor to make a dash to grab Holt or at least get close enough to draw the gunfire. Drake would provide cover. They’d done this a hundred times—scatter the attackers’ resources and have them trying to handle too many directions at once. As far as diversions went, it was effective. Most times it worked. Connor hoped this would be one.

  “Cover her, too.” Connor couldn’t tell if he yelled the command or whispered it, but Drake nodded.

  With a last look at Jana and at the smudges of dirt and sand on her face, he raced toward Holt. He cut in close and the gunfire closed in on him. The break let Holt pull out of the circle of flames dancing around his back. Closer to Connor now, Holt returned fire, never stopping long enough to provide an easy target.

  But they were not in the clear. Fire roared behind them and the blinding heat felt as if it was eating away at Connor’s clothes. They pivoted until they stood back to back. They kept moving and firing. Spinning and shifting, careful to lead the attackers away from Jana’s hiding place.

  Connor decided he’d rather take his chances with the bullets than the flames. He at least stood a chance of dodging those. On a silent count of three he moved Holt toward the car, closer to the guns aimed in their direction. At the last second, Holt bolted and landed with his back against the front of the car.

  That left the easy shot and Connor took it. Dropping to his stomach he ignored the sound of crashing windows and the thumping of bullets against steel. He shifted until he got the clear sight then shot the attacker right in the leg.

  There was a yell and the man went down. Connor nailed him again, this time in the side. The guy’s weapon stayed just out of reach but if he lunged for it, he’d grab it. Connor couldn’t have that. He heard the scuffle of footsteps as Holt moved but Connor concentrated on the panicked eyes he could see at the other end of the car.

  Up and on his feet. Connor reached the attacker’s gun as the man’s fingers skimmed it. Stepping on his wrist, he pushed down until he heard a crunch and the guy wailed in pain. Sensing he was not alone, Connor glanced up, bringing his gun with him, and looked into the face of the man who supposedly wanted him dead.

  “I don’t care what the boss wants. You’re dead.”

  The guy took too much time talking. Just enough for Holt to come up behind him and crack him in the head. The guy stumbled but his finger moved to the trigger. Losing consciousness and going down, he still looked ready to fire.

  Connor put a bullet in his forehead and made sure that didn’t happen.

  “Tie up the wounded one,” Connor said. “I don’t want him crawling out of here.”

  Holt was already on his knees, getting the job done. “Right.”

  Cam. No sooner did he think it than Holt turned around and looked at the burning building. They had to go in. At least try to drag their man out. First, Connor’s gaze went to Jana. He wanted to do a visual check and make sure she hadn’t been injured in their jump away from the car. She wasn’t there.

  He stared at the spot in the dirt where they fell. He could see the imprints from their bodies and footprints leading away. “What the hell?”

  “We need to get...” Holt’s gaze followed Connor’s. “What?”

  “Where did she go?”

  “She’s still with Drake.” The hoarse voice came from the opposite side of the building. Cam made the comment then doubled over in a coughing fit. His clothes were singed and small pieces of burning debris littered his hair.

  “Cam?” Holt rushed over and helped out with a few slaps to the back that might have made a weaker man drop to the ground.

  Connor was so relieved, so grateful to have Cam standing in front of him. The breath hiccupped right out of him. “How did you get out?”

  Cam stood up and inhaled a deep gulp of air. The move set the coughing off again. When he finally wound down he shook his head. “Good thing I was headed for the back door to give us some support from the rear when the car came barreling in.”

  “It’s a really good thing you run fast.” Holt gave his friend another cuff on the shoulder.

  Relief gave way to dread. Fear and anxiety balled inside Connor. Something wasn’t right. The pieces didn’t make sense to him and those drag marks had his brain misfiring. Add in the delays and the not moving and he was on edge.

  “Where exactly is Jana right now?” Maybe that would explain her reluctance to go there.

  Cam eyed his boss. “I thought Drake took her out of the danger zone on your orders.”

  “No.” Maybe he’d said something like that but Connor knew this was something else. That neck ache came back in full force.

  The Drake he knew, or thought he knew, wouldn’t walk away without warning, even if he meant to protect her. And the drag marks from the one set of tracks suggested Jana didn’t go willingly.

  Connor tried to concentrate and force the pieces together in his head. The inventory mistakes at the charity. The case all those years ago with similar issues. Then it was about vaccines being sold on the open market as part of the money-making scheme. Now...what?

  He didn’t know what was in those extra crates but he knew who should be watching over the distribution. And who had a hand in the charity then and now. Marcel and Jana, but there was one other.

  Connor added it up and the answer nearly doubled him over.

  Holt frowned. “Connor, what’s going on?”

  “I’m not sure.” But he knew. He sensed it. The man he brought in to help, the man he always trusted, was at the bottom of this somehow.

  Another car approached. This one a truck Connor recognized and from the yelling over the satphone, he knew they had a new problem. Tires squealed and the truck came in too hot. The erratic driving meant one thing—Shane.

  He jumped down and out of the vehicle before he put it in Park. “I have a gift for you, but I warn you, it’s pretty crappy.”

  Shane went around to the passenger side and dragged Marcel out of the seat and across the dirt to stand in front of them. The man’s knees buckled but Shane held him up.

  Marcel had bruises on his face and blood at the corner of his mouth. With the ripped shirt he didn’t look like his usual poseur self.

  Connor had to fight from tearing the man apart. “What’s this?”

  “He and his friend shot me in the back.” Shane said it so matter-of-factly, as if he’d been expecting it and disappointed to be right.

  Holt’s eyebrow rose. “The vest trick worked?”

  Connor knew his mind wandered and he wanted to get moving, but he’d lost the conversation and this could matter, so he tried to tune back in. “What?”

  “I knew this was coming. This one wanted me dead and out of the way for whatever they were hatching over here. I see it had some firepower to it.” S
hane shoved Marcel and the man went down hard on his knees in the dirt. “I had an extra vest and made a show of walking around the yard without the one they expected me to wear. Kept my head down and waited for the cowards to shoot me in the back, and they did.”

  “At least you had the extra vest.” Holt scowled at Marcel. “They tried to set me on fire.”

  Cam brushed the ashes out of his hair. “I almost got wiped out by a car.”

  They could celebrate their victories later. Right now, Connor wanted answers and some intel before he went racing after his wife.

  He turned on Marcel, lifting the guy’s head up and forcing him to look at his captors. “You ready to talk now?”

  “It was all Drake.” The words bubbled out of Marcel now. Gone was the sneer and condescension. He’d been broken and if the state of him was any indication, Shane actually made a run at literally making that happen. “The weapons. We used the shipments to smuggle weapons. Sold them on the black market.”

  Holt stepped in real close. “We should kill you.”

  “Not yet.” Not ever, but Marcel didn’t need to know that. He could wet himself with fear for all Connor cared. “You were both in on it last time—you and Drake—weren’t you? Jana figured it out then, too, only you were really bad at covering your tracks back then. This time you kept the shipments small to make them harder to track.”

  “They were supposed to be random, but our buyers had needs.”

  “And you did them at specific intervals. Jana saw the pattern. She just didn’t believe you could be so disgusting.” Connor hadn’t made that mistake. He’d screwed up when it came to Drake but not Marcel. Connor had always seen through Marcel.

  He just missed the more obvious villain at his back. All those years... Connor shook his head, trying to force out the memories. He couldn’t get swamped with emotions now. He needed a clear head to get his wife back.

  They weren’t going up against a novice. Drake had skills that rivaled theirs. He likely also thought he’d killed some of them, so they had the advantage of numbers.

  Marcel swallowed. “This was my last job. I was cleaning things up when Jana arrived.”

  “You should have sent her away,” Cam said, his voice deadly calm.

  “He couldn’t.” Shane grabbed a fist full of Marcel’s shirt. “He wanted her for himself.”

  Connor needed one more piece before they could move. “Keep talking. Why does Drake want her?”

  “He knew she’d eventually tell you and you’d put it all together. You’d add up what happened in the past and put it together that he ran the whole thing.”

  “Why not take Jana out?” Cam asked.

  Marcel never broke eye contact with Connor. “Because you would never stop.”

  “That’s right.” He leaned down and met the man face-to-face. “There’s one more thing you should know.”

  Marcel squirmed and tried to back up but Shane had a death grip on him. “Hold still. If she’s hurt, if she even has a hangnail, I’m going to gut you.” Connor meant every word.

  The last of Marcel’s composure slipped. He half cried and half begged. “I... You can’t...”

  Holt rolled his eyes. “Shut up.”

  “How do we find her?” Cam asked.

  That was the easy part. Now that his head had cleared and he had focus, Connor didn’t need help with this. “I know exactly where she is.”

  Shane shot Connor a narrowed-eye look of disbelief but then it cleared and one of his eyebrows lifted. “You put another tracker on her?”

  “No, I showed it to her and she put it in her pocket.” Connor had never been so grateful for anything in his life. He let her have the choice and she made it and now it would save her.

  He’d deal with the guilt of his friendship with Drake putting her in danger later. Now he’d focus on the rescue.

  Holt laughed. “Always did love that woman.”

  “You are not alone in that.” Connor pointed at Marcel. “Put him in the truck. He’s coming with us.”

  Chapter Eighteen

  Jana looked around for anything she could use as a weapon. Drake had dragged her from the office to a car waiting nearby. The ride in the trunk had been short, which gave her plenty of time to mentally berate her reaction. Drake had whispered something to her back at the fire about being safe and she froze.

  That voice had played in her mind ever since the kidnapping, just waiting for her to have something to compare it to. Then she heard it. Soft but still so clear. She never expected one of Connor’s oldest friends would be the attacker. Would want her dead and Connor pleading for her life.

  Drake loaded a bag onto the helicopter but his other hand stayed on the gun. “I knew you recognized my voice.”

  “You were the one behind me when I was tied to the chair.” There was no reason to pretend now. He’d showed his hand and she had nothing left to lose...except her life.

  But Connor wouldn’t let that happen. He’d remember the scene in the bedroom and the tracker and find her. He just had to notice her gone and battle whatever grief and guilt might attack him first.

  “I couldn’t afford to let you hear me. Well, until now. Now it doesn’t matter.” Drake dumped a second bag next to the first.

  She didn’t know where they were or when he brought a helicopter in. She didn’t see a pilot but if he was like the Corcoran team members, he could fly certain planes. These men had skills across the board.

  Realizing Drake possessed them too set off a new burst of panic inside her. She had to push that all back and force her teeth not to chatter from the fear.

  Connor taught her not to let the terror show. Relax, stay calm and collect intel. Stall and no matter what, do not let someone get you in a car. She’d already violated that but she assumed the rule applied to helicopters as well and planned to win that round.

  She glanced around at the desolate area. Brush tumbled past in the slight wind and towering rocks lined the distance. They stood in a lower-lying area, almost flat and filled mostly with smaller stones and rough trails where the elements had worn paths into the ground.

  “Why?”

  He didn’t pretend to be confused. “Because this operation is over.”

  “You were running drugs in those extra crates.” Her voice shook as she said the words. That came from anger, not fear. Kids needed the immunizations and he turned a simple act of charity into a money-making scheme.

  “Guns.”

  The word didn’t make any sense to her. “What?”

  “There’s more money in weapons these days.”

  The reality of the scheme hit her full on in the chest. “It was you at the beginning.”

  “Beginning, middle and the end. Thanks to you, the formal end to this operation, one that has gone on and funded me for years, is here.” He frowned at her. “As you might imagine, I am not happy about that.”

  One thought ran through her head. Bad guys should look like bad guys. People should be able to point them out and stay clear. This guy was every inch the good soldier. He had the all-American good looks. There was nothing disgusting and scary about him in an overt way like there had been with that one kidnapper.

  No, Drake seemed normal, likeable. Objectively attractive. And that false persona made him all the more dangerous.

  “You kidnapped me to hurt Connor?” And not protecting her would destroy him. He ran drills and drove them apart over the issue. To find out he’d let his guard down would break him. Never mind that she walked away and stepped out of his safe cocoon.

  “I had my people grab you because, once again, you were nosing around where you shouldn’t have been. You know, I thought when Connor married you and you dragged him away from his career—”

  Rage heated her skin from the inside out. “I didn’
t.”

  “I was there, Jana.”

  “So was I. Connor wanted out of undercover government work, or whatever you two did.” She never made him chose between the job and her. Even now in those dark times when she wanted to, if only to make a point, she didn’t.

  “Connor loved the kill. You ruined that for him.”

  That wasn’t her husband. That wasn’t the man she knew. The one that rescued and saved. “You don’t know him at all.”

  “Says the woman who dumped him.”

  “That didn’t happen.”

  Drake’s hand swept across the Utah desert. “Looks like it.”

  “I was going back. Not right now, but eventually. I don’t belong here.” The truth hit her then. “But you knew that. That’s why you had to take Connor out. You knew I would tell him and he would wonder how anything could go wrong with the shipments if you were watching over them.”

  “Being smart will be your downfall.”

  “Let her go, Drake.”

  At the sound of Connor’s voice, Jana whipped around. She was so happy to see him, she almost didn’t feel Drake’s arm snake around her neck. Then he pulled her in tight and she had to grab his forearm to keep from choking.

  “I see your skills are at a functional level.” Drake shouted and it echoed in her ear. “What, is there a microphone on her? A tracker?”

  His anger didn’t stop Connor. He and Holt moved in slowly. Cam entered from the side, directly parallel to Drake.

  “This is over,” Connor said with a nod.

  He didn’t look at her. Stress pulled on his face and his body tightened as whatever emotion zipping around inside him took hold.

  She’d seen this before and it soothed her rather than frightened her. This was warrior Connor. Just having him there had her sagging in relief against Drake.

  “This has been going on long before now and eventually I’ll set up somewhere else with someone other than Marcel, and move on.” Drake gave Cam a quick glance. “You should stop moving unless you want to explain to Connor why his wife’s blood is spilled all over the ground.”