Alpha Bravo SEAL

by Carol Ericson

Slade made a half turn and squeezed Nicole’s arm. “Get ready to hit the deck.”

  Nodding, she squared her shoulders and tensed her body. He knew he could count on her to follow his direction.

  As he started to move back toward the previous car, she grabbed on to his belt loop. “You’re going the wrong way, aren’t you?”

  “I’m going to be his welcoming committee.” Slade reached the door connecting the last car to the previous one and hopped onto the seat to the left of it.

  This action finally got the attention of the handful of people in the car.

  Slade raised his voice. “There’s a man with a gun. Everybody get down.”

  Not everyone in the car listened, so Nicole nudged the leg of the woman sitting across from her. “He’s serious.”

  Another woman screamed, and as the train slowed to a stop, their pursuer shoved open the final set of doors.

  But Slade was ready for him.

  Chapter Nine

  The man raised his weapon. Slade swung from the bars. He hit the guy dead center with both feet. The man flew backward, his gun spinning from his hand. He crashed against some empty seats.

  People in both cars tumbled out of the train onto the platform, a shrill voice raised, calling for the police.

  The man sprawled half on the seat, his knees on the floor, but it didn’t stop him from reaching for his weapon. Slade got there first, stomping on the man’s wrist with his foot.

  He snatched up the gun and then got in the man’s pale face and growled, “If this wasn’t a public place, you’d be dead. Next time.”

  Slade slipped back into the last car where Nicole was still waiting for him. He took her arm just as two police officers boarded the train.

  “Did you see a man with a gun?”

  “I didn’t see a gun, but there was a fight back there.” Slade jerked his thumb over his shoulder and guided Nicole from the car before any more questions could come up.

  Once they got onto the platform, they both picked up the pace, maneuvering through the crowds.

  “Is he...was he...”

  “The bastard’s still alive. I can’t leave a dead man in the middle of a train, but I have his weapon and maybe we can get some prints. He wasn’t wearing gloves.”

  “Will the police arrest him?”

  “On what charge? He has no gun, unless he has a spare on him, and he’ll just claim someone attacked him on the train and will refuse to pursue the matter. The other side has even less reason to get mixed up with local law enforcement than I do.”

  When they got to street level, Nicole grabbed on to a lamppost, her body sagging against it.

  Slade curled an arm around her waist, and her slight frame trembled against him. “I’m sorry, Nicole. We need to get out of here. I don’t know how badly I hurt him. He could come after us again.”

  She blinked her eyes a few times and tossed her hair over her shoulder. “I know. I’m okay. I’ll snag us a taxi.”

  And she did just that. He expected her to collapse in the backseat, lean against him, but she pinned her shoulders against the seat of the taxi and cleared her throat.

  “They’re going to take any opportunity they can to kill me, aren’t they?”

  “Looks like they don’t want you getting your hands on the film—whether or not you know what to do with it.”

  “They have to figure my current companion—” she jabbed his arm with her index finger “—is more than some guy on the street. That has to have them doubly desperate.”

  “I guess Trudy never did tell Conrad what Lars gave her. He doesn’t know what he’s looking for.”

  “But we do.”

  She outlined the bulge in the pocket of his jeans and for a quick minute he thought she was making a move on him, but she was just tracing the outline of Trudy’s key chain. “And as soon as I get home and back to my computer, I’m going to do a little research on the lockers at Coney Island.”

  Slade patted his jacket pocket. “And I’m going to find out where I need to take this gun to get fingerprinted. Maybe we can narrow down the group that’s after this film if we can start ID’ing some of its members. We have Conrad, the owner of this gun and the sniper who was taking potshots at us.”

  “Potshots? That seemed like more than a potshot to me.”

  He snorted. “Amateur.”

  “So, we could be dealing with three different people here in New York, or maybe someone’s doing double duty.”

  “I don’t believe Conrad was the sniper. Conrad had to be available in case we sauntered into that bar instead of meeting him at the park. They could’ve even used him to track us down in the park so the sniper could get off his shots.”

  “Do you think the man chasing us through the train was the sniper?”

  “No. He got after us too quickly. That sniper was probably still in position waiting for another opportunity when we jumped into the taxi. So, yeah, we could be looking at three different people.”

  “They’re sparing no expense or manpower—whoever they are.” She wrapped her arms around her lithe body and shivered. “If you hadn’t shown up when you did, I’d be a goner by now. There’s no way I would’ve known how to handle this onslaught.”

  “I don’t know.” He smoothed his hand down her arm. “You’re pretty savvy in the field. It’s clear you’ve had practice at this.”

  “I’ve been in some gnarly situations, but these people just keep coming at me from all directions.” She covered her eyes with one hand. “I’m not sure how much more I can handle.”

  “You don’t have to handle it alone, Nicole.” He patted her knee. “I’m right here.”

  The taxi squealed to a stop in front of her mother’s building. She shoved some crumpled bills at the driver in the front seat and said, “Time to get to work.”

  Slade’s senses were on high alert from the curb to the elevator, but once inside the car, he wedged a shoulder against the mirrored wall and released a long breath. Back to work.

  Toby, the nighttime doorman, had assured them on the way in that nothing unusual had happened at the building and no strangers had been sniffing around. But Slade still approached Nicole’s apartment as if he expected to find armed assailants hiding behind the drapes. He flicked back the drapes with the barrel of his gun under Nicole’s watchful eye.

  “Are you going to check out the entire place before we get down to business?”

  “Just a quick surveillance. Any more news from Livvy?”

  “Just a text that Chanel is doing fine.”

  “Nothing from Marley, I suppose...or Conrad?”

  “He’s probably trashed the phone by now. He won’t be going back to Marley now that we’re onto him, but we need to find a way to contact her to warn her about Conrad.”

  “We’ll get to her. Don’t worry.”

  He searched the place more carefully than he’d let on to Nicole, and only then did he unclench his jaw and relax his muscles.

  He must’ve communicated his tension to her, because she hadn’t moved from her post by the corner of the kitchen, arms and legs crossed, since he started his survey.

  He nodded to her. “All clear. Do you wanna break out the computer?”

  “I wanna break out a bottle of wine. You up for that?”

  “Absolutely. I’m glad you changed your mind because we deserve it.” He cocked his head at her as she pulled that bottle of white from the fridge. “You know, I don’t think I ever thanked you for saving my life tonight.”

  “I saved your life?” She twisted the cork out of the bottle with a small pop. “All I remember is you swinging through the train car like Tarzan.”

  “At the park. You saw that red dot on my forehead.”

  “Yeah, I was such an idiot, it didn’t occ
ur to me what that was.” She poured the golden liquid into two glasses and then tipped a little more into each.

  “You noticed it, which is more than most people would.” He took the glass from her hand, the tips of his fingers brushing across her knuckles. Her skin felt smooth and soft and ignited a longing in his chest that he hadn’t felt in years.

  Her lips parted, and her lashes dipped once as if in acknowledgment of his silent yearning. Then she flashed her pearly whites and gulped back some wine, breaking the spell.

  “Then you’re welcome, but I owed you big-time for taking down that pirate. A small token of my gratitude.”

  He took a swig of the expensive sauvignon blanc, the fruity taste flaring in his mouth before he swallowed. “Why’d you spit on him?”

  “What?”

  “The pirate. I watched you through my scope after I took him down, and you spit on his body.”

  “Did I?” Her laugh gurgled in the back of her throat. “What a barbarian I am. I suppose it was instinct. I was so mad that we’d been captured. So terrified. So relieved. When that many emotions are running through your mind all at the same time, I guess your animal instincts take over. You must’ve thought I was a crazy woman.”

  “I thought it was pretty kick-ass.”

  A small smile curved her lips. “We still have some work to do. Where are you taking that gun?”

  “I’m going to send an email from my phone right now.” He pointed across the great room. “Office?”

  “Yeah.” She wrapped her fingers around the neck of the wine bottle. “I’m taking this along.”

  As he followed her into the office, he said, “I miss Chanel. It’s too quiet around here without her.”

  “That little puff of fur turned into a real hero, didn’t she? She practically saved Livvy.”

  “That was when the people after you were still trying to make their hits look like accidents. The sniper tonight and the guy on the train indicate a level of frustration that just turned dangerous.”

  She sat down in front of the computer and woke it up with a flick of the mouse. “I think Giles, Lars and Trudy already found it dangerous—lethal, in fact.”

  “Of course. That’s not what I meant.” He brought up the secure email on his phone and sent a message to Ariel about the gun he’d taken from the man on the train.

  Nicole had been busy clicking away on her computer and now leaned back in her chair. “This is interesting.”

  He crossed to the desk in two long strides and ducked his head over Nicole’s shoulder to peer at the monitor with its display of colorful pictures. “What’s this?”

  “It’s Coney Island, home of corn dog stands.”

  “Did you find the place that was in Trudy’s picture?”

  “Not yet, but look at this.”

  He leaned in closer, and despite diving into the dirt at the playground and rolling around the floor of a train, Nicole still smelled like fresh flowers.

  She tapped the screen at his hesitation. “Lockers. Coney Island has lockers, the type you originally had pegged for Trudy’s key.”

  “Good sleuthing. Seems pretty risky for Lars to leave something as important as that film in an amusement park locker, though.”

  “Risky but unexpected. Anyone might guess a safe-deposit box or safe under the bed, but a locker at the beach?” She raised her arms over her head in a stretch, interlocking her fingers. “I can’t think of anywhere else close where that picture could’ve been taken. Of course, they could’ve gone to other places while Lars was out here and just didn’t take any pics.”

  “Yeah, but Lars’s visit wasn’t a vacation. He came through New York specifically to hand off the film to you and in your absence gave it to Trudy instead. I doubt Trudy took him to all the tourist spots.”

  “It’s too bad I wasn’t here.”

  “I don’t know about that. I wasn’t here, either, and you didn’t have the same level of suspicion then. You would’ve been an easy target.” His hands moved to her shoulders in a protective move.

  “I’m glad you’re here.” She tapped his knuckles with her fingertips.

  His hold on her shoulders turned into a caress, and she seemed to melt beneath his touch. Dropping to his knees next to her chair, he wedged a finger beneath her chin and turned her head toward him.

  He ran the pad of his thumb across her bottom lip, waiting for some sign that this wasn’t the stupidest idea on the planet.

  She sighed, her breath tickling his thumb, and her eyelashes fluttered.

  He took that as two signs. Angling his mouth over hers, he touched his lips to her lips. The wine he’d just consumed tasted better this way.

  Nicole closed her eyes and twined her arms around his neck, pulling him into her special realm where everything seemed more intense—the taste of the wine, her sweet scent, the pillowy softness of her lips, the music of her sighs.

  He deepened the kiss, his tongue probing for hers, toying with it in a sensuous dance that ignited a flame in his belly. The thudding of his heart drowned out the voices in his head that had been urging caution from the minute he’d laid eyes on this woman through his scope.

  With her arms still coiled around his neck and her lips pressed against his, he slid one hand down her back and the other beneath her thighs and pulled her into his arms. From his knees, he rose to his feet with a tight hold on this long-limbed beauty.

  He didn’t even have any idea where her bedroom was in the vast area upstairs, but he’d be happy to take her anywhere.

  Slade moved from the office with the precious bundle in his arms and made for the stairs.

  Nicole had broken their kiss when he’d lifted her from the chair in the office. Now she cupped his face in her hands. “You do not have to carry me upstairs.”

  Looking into her green eyes, he narrowed his gaze. “Because you don’t want this?”

  “Oh, I want whatever this is, but you don’t have to lug me up the staircase to get it.”

  He chuckled. Yep, like no other high-maintenance society girl he’d ever met.

  “No lugging required. You’re as light as a feather.”

  “That may be, but I just survived a sniper’s bullet and an attack on the train. I’m not going to risk tumbling down the stairs, even if I do end up on top of a hot Navy SEAL.”

  “You don’t have to take a fall down the stairs to wind up on top of this Navy SEAL.”

  He winked at her as he set her down on the bottom step of the winding staircase.

  Just as she took his hand and he felt like his head might explode, the jangling ring of a telephone jarred his senses.

  “What the hell is that?”

  “It’s called a telephone. It’s my mom’s landline, which she refuses to give up.”

  “It’s gotta be close to midnight. Who’s calling her at this hour?” Even as he asked the question, a whisper of apprehension made the hair on the back of his neck stand at attention.

  “The phone has an answering machine, so whoever it is can leave a message.” She tugged on his shirtsleeve.

  As he planted a foot on the next step, the person on the other end of the phone did start leaving a message—one they could hear.

  A man’s accented voice rushed over the line. “Nicole. It’s Dahir. We need to talk. It’s urgent—life or death.”

  Chapter Ten

  She jerked away from the promise of Slade’s warm touch and stumbled off the bottom step. She pounced on the phone in the kitchen, Dahir’s voice acting like a magnet.

  “Dahir? Dahir? It’s Nicole.”

  Her translator grunted in surprise. “Nicole? You’re there? I didn’t know you’d be at this number.”

  She could’ve asked him why he’d called her mother’s place, but he was probably just hitt
ing up all her numbers. “Well, I am here, and I’m so happy to hear from you. You’re well? Safe?”

  “I am. I am. You heard about the others? Giles? Lars?”

  Slade touched her arm, and she punched a button to put the phone on speaker. “Of course I heard. Giles’s death was a tragedy, but when Lars supposedly committed suicide, I knew something wasn’t right. Where are you?”

  “I’m here in New York. That’s why I cannot believe in my...luck that you are here, too.”

  “How did you get here? I’ve been trying to track you down forever.”

  “After the kidnapping, I had to hide out. It wasn’t safe for me—or my family.”

  “I’m so sorry, but how did you manage to get to New York? Did the US government help you after all?” She glanced at Slade, hunched over the counter, but he shrugged.

  “I can’t really say, Nicole. I’m here now, and I must meet with you.”

  “Do you know why Giles and Lars were killed?”

  Slade tugged on a lock of her hair and put a finger over his lips.

  She drew her brows over her nose. He didn’t trust Dahir?

  “I have a good idea why they were killed. That’s why I need to talk to you.”

  Slade tapped the telephone receiver.

  “Can you just tell me now over the phone?”

  “I can’t, Nicole. I have to give you something in person.”

  Her heart jumped. “Lars’s film? Do you have Lars’s footage of the interviews we did with the women?”

  “I can’t tell you over the phone. It has to be in person. I’ll tell you everything tomorrow night.”

  “Tomorrow night? Why not earlier? I’ll meet you anywhere.”

  “I can’t make it until nighttime. There are...things I need to do first, and please don’t talk to anyone else about this or do anything else to find the film. It’s not what you think.”

  Dahir’s voice had gotten louder, his accent thicker.

  “Are you okay, Dahir?”

  “I’m fine.” His voice cracked. “It’s my family who’s in danger. Please just do as I ask you.”

  “I will. I will.”