Danger Mine: A Base Branch Novel

by Megan Mitcham

  “Three,” he corrected.

  “One day.”

  “I remember. Do you?” His Adam’s apple rolled on a swallow.

  “You think very highly of yourself, Street.”

  “Facts are facts. We fucked and you split.”

  “The fact is I have enough on my plate right now. I don’t need you…” Need you what? Screwing me? Screwing up my life?

  He ended the pause. “I never thought you did—”

  “Thanks for dinner.” Khani stood and dropped her napkin onto the table. “I’m sure our waitress will happily provide your dessert.”

  She hurried to the door, and then darted down the sidewalk as though guerrilla fighters dogged her heals. Once safely inside her car and zipping down the road, she called Zeke. Maybe she should get him to carry out a hit on Street. This time his voicemail picked-up without one hopeful ring.

  “Z, call me. Whenever. Whatever. Call.”

  3

  “Thanks for making the trip on such short notice.” The commander of the Base Branch’s eastern US headquarters stuck his hand out and squeezed Street’s in a firm shake.

  “Happy to help.” He stepped into the office and sized-up the ace in a fraction of a second. Rough working man’s hands. Stout frame. Intelligent eyes. Crooked nose of a fighter. In short, Vail Tucker was the warrior he’d heard tales about over the last two years of his Branch training.

  Street closed the door behind him.

  “You come highly recommended.” Tucker stepped back and crossed his arms over his chest. An unexpected grin curved the side of his mouth. “I’ve never spoken to the Queen before, but she was adamant you were the man for the job.”

  “I can’t believe she would break the silence to recommend me. It goes to show how much she trusts and values the Branch’s work.”

  “No shit,” Tucker laughed. “Now I know why your file was sealed.”

  “Her majesty’s confidence is of the upmost importance.” Street straightened to his full height to drive home his message. “If word ever leaked that she was behind the investigation, and subsequent public revelation, of decades of covered-up abuse that brought the Catholic church to its knees, it would rip England in two.”

  Tucker held his gaze. “She’s a shrewd woman, recognizing your unique position, intelligence, and abilities, and then putting them to use.”

  Street harrumphed, the noise rattling his whole chest. “I guess it only makes me half a traitor.”

  “Not at all. It’s all about the greater good.”

  Bitterness fringed his laugh. “While investigating, while serving my queen, I broke the trust of the only person on this pile of dirt that ever gave a shit about me. I dragged his demons into the light.” Street scrubbed an itch on his forehead, and then drilled Tucker with his gaze. “Would you kill Carmen to protect innocents for things that are only possibilities and odds?”

  The man’s jaw flexed. His hands chaffed together. The dry friction released the tension in his face. “No. Which goes to show you’re a better man than I am.”

  “That’s an opinion not shared by many. Not even me.”

  “Then you’re too hard on yourself.”

  “If I’m not, who will be?”

  Tucker stepped around to the back of his desk and kicked back in his cushy leather seat. “Well, I know someone who will.” He swiveled toward the phone, hit a few buttons, and the line trilled a half-ring.

  “What?” came the gruff voice of his dreams.

  “Good morning to you too, sunshine,” Tucker said.

  “I’m only on my second cup of coffee. The sun isn’t up yet. I got shit for sleep last night. I have a hell-a-lot of stuff to get done this morning, and you’re interrupting progress,” Khani snapped.

  “Give me ten minutes in my office. I’ll lighten your load,” Tucker enticed.

  “It’s your funeral,” she sighed.

  “You saved me. You can’t kill me. Besides, I have fresh coffee—”

  “I’m on my way.” The line went dead.

  “Have a seat,” Tucker offered.

  Street sank into the chair across from Tucker and farthest from the doorway. When Khani came into the office he didn’t want to be in the direct line of fire. He rested his elbow on the armrest and scoured his hand over his chin. It wasn’t the time to smile, but damn. He hadn’t had as much fun as he’d had in the last twelve hours since he’d been shot.

  That sounded fucked up even in his own mind.

  Memories of that day enveloped his brain in a fog of mystique and ecstasy. Khani’s fingers glided over the stitches he’d sewn into his own skin. His arm throbbed, remembering the sting of her touch. Other things throbbed too.

  His forearms tingled from where she’d bound him to the back frame of the wooden chair with medical tape. His cock lengthened, remembering her eager mouth working him deep, reliving the way she stripped off her bottoms and straddled him otherwise fully clothed.

  “So,” Tucker yanked him back to the present, “you worked under Khani in London. I don’t have to tell you she’ll be pissed at both of us for dropping this on her with no warning.”

  “Nope, but I’ve dealt with her wrath before. I quite enjoy the challenge.”

  “In a few days, remember you said that.” Tucker stood at the rapid click of a woman’s shoes.

  Street stood and braced for the bomb that was Khani Slaughter and the havoc she wreaked on his body and soul.

  The door sailed open. “Where’s the coff—” She stopped so quickly her onyx hair grazing the tops of her shoulder swooshed forward, momentarily covering her red mouth. Her smokey gaze bore a hole in his, leapt to Tucker’s, and then back to him. Those long, lean, capable fingers whitened around her silver coffee thermos.

  His pride evaporated. If Tucker wasn’t in the room he might just fall to his knees and beg to get those hands on him again.

  She stepped into the room and hummed the door closed. Boy was she pissed.

  It had taken hours for her to let him kiss her that day. Once she started she hadn’t stopped until she cut his bonds and rushed out the door. The experience taught him persistence paid off where Khani was concerned.

  “It’s good to see you again, LTC.”

  4

  Khani called upon every ounce of decorum she possessed and nodded at Street before slicing Vail with her gaze. “What’s going on, Commander?”

  Vail’s mouth screwed into a knot. He hated when she called him that. She ticked a dash on her scorecard—which was behind quite a few points at the moment thanks to Carmen, her brother, Street, and now her commander.

  “London Branch is lending us Lieutenant Commander Street to help clear us,” Vail pointed between her and himself, “of all suspicion of traitorous activity for our part in the recent security breach.”

  That explained why Street wore a suit. She’d assumed he’d worn it only to inflame her lady bits. That might have been a better reason.

  “Hold the fucking ringer.” She stepped forward and smacked her empty cup onto the desk. Her gaze narrowed to slits on the horse-sized man who made the average desk chair look like a child’s toy. “You mean to tell me, you’re now LTC of the London office? How in the hell did that happen? I know five people off the tip of my nose more experienced than you, with more time in the outfit, and more…”

  She thought to say mettle, but that wasn’t exactly true. Street had taken a bullet saving three of their own from an ambush. A bullet that changed the course of her life. He’d been off duty, put together the pieces of an intricate scheme on the open case, and acted without her clearance. If he’d taken the time to call for back up or get permission to act, the day would have ended more tragically than it had.

  “No one was more surprised than me,” Street said.

  “Who appointed you?” she demanded.

  “The commander,” he answered smoothly.

  “Who is…” She spread her arms wide, willing him to fill in the blank.

  “H
e wants to tell you himself.” One of his huge shoulders shrugged.

  Khani snapped her gaze to Vail. “Do you know who the hell it is?”

  Vail nodded his greying head once.

  “And you’re not going to tell me either. Un-fucking-believable.” She slapped her hands together so hard it burned her palms. “And now he’s here to clear us of suspicion. Well, he can start with you. I have to take some personal time.”

  The plush leather chair whined as Vail leaned forward and settled his elbows on his desk. “Street, will you give us a minute please?”

  “He can stay.” Khani ground both hands onto her hips and took a drag of oxygen. “This isn’t about him. My brother is missing.” Pressure built behind her eyebrows.

  “Elaborate,” Vail ordered.

  “He went on an Alaskan adventure. When he got out of the wilderness he was supposed to call. That was two days ago. His phone is going straight to voicemail.” The more she talked about it the tighter guilt hugged her.

  “He’s a capable man, Khani. Don’t you think it’s a little soon to worry?” Vail asked in an easy tone.

  “If a team was due to report in at oh-two-hundred and they didn’t, would you shut down your computer and call it a night?” She arched a brow, trying to work out the kinks and drive her question home.

  “This isn’t the same thing. He wasn’t going on an op. He was going to whale watch and dog sled.” Her commander shook his head almost imperceptibly.

  “Sure it could be nothing, but if I know anyone, I know my brother.” She pressed at the headache that gained strength like a pro athlete on the needle. “He wouldn’t leave me hanging like this.”

  It might seem insane to Vail and Street that she’d jet set after such a short time. After all, she and Vail had tried on numerous occasions to hire him as a Branch agent. Her brother could take care of himself. He had since he was eighteen. Before that really. But he’d never broken a promise. Not to anyone. Especially her.

  Vail lowered his twined fingers to the desk. “I trust your judgment. Where are you going and how can I help? We don’t have many guys to spare right now, but Street can hold down the fort and I can give you a hand.”

  Nope. If Carmen was up the duff, V needed to be with her. “You can’t go. Carmen needs you.”

  “What do you mean needs me?” His gaze narrowed. “Is there something I should now about?”

  “She’s great. But you just got back. Haven’t even been home from the sound of it. She and Sophie are in a new place. They deserve to have you around.” She dropped her fingers from her forehead. They weren’t doing a damn bit of good anyway.

  “True enough,” Vail agreed.

  “I’ll go,” Street said.

  A shadow cast over her shoulder. Since she’d stepped forward in an attempt to ignore his presence, the heat from his chest seeped through her blouse. Cold sweats chilled her skin and it took every bit of her training to rein in what might have been a full-blown panic attack or a dead body on V’s floor.

  Khani whipped around, putting her back to the wall. Street stood like he was ready to hit the tarmac within the minute.

  “No.” Khani’s excessive volume echoed in the utilitarian space. She despised her telling retreat and automatic refusal. “I need you to finish those reports and get them to New York, otherwise none of us will have a job.” Her headache twirled her optic nerve into a tangle of pain.

  She turned to Vail. “I just need some cold weather gear and Street to finish my operative reports.”

  5

  It took some fancy footwork, but Street got what he needed from Tucker. Just like he did from everyone. Almost everyone. Reading people’s cues—those minuscule ticks of a facial muscle, near imperceptible shifts in their gazes, the beat of their pulse—gave him the edge essential to his survival.

  Street didn’t need any special skills to discern that the wall of muscles and attitude walking his way down the basement corridor were three Base Branch operatives agitated by his presence in their inner sanctum. Couldn’t say as he’d blame them considering the mess they’d been in a couple of weeks ago.

  Man-bun’s hand flew to his sidearm the moment his blue gaze lit on Street. The black guy hulked out. The already pronounced muscles defined by his tight shirt rippled as he prepared for battle.

  The tallest of the three, hitting eye level with Street thanks to the boots on his feet, narrowed his gaze. His grip doubled on the file in his hands, bowing it to hell and back. “Your call-sign, now,” he demanded.

  “Sure,” Street smiled, “if you can beat it out of me.” He wanted to see how they’d take him in a narrow hallway with no cover.

  Three big men scattered. The two white guys moved to the wall and drew on him, while the guy in the middle barreled up the centerline.

  Street slowly put his hands in the air. “I’m just tuggin' your balls. Juliett. Oscar. Hotel. November. Sierra. Mike. India. Tango. Hotel. Zero. Zero. Zero. Zero.”

  The thunder rolling at him stopped with a clap of boots two feet from the tip of the black wingtips that complimented his monkey suit. At least, that’s what the sales lady had told him. But high-dollar clothes were one of the few things he knew jack about.

  “I heard you were big and crazy as a broke-neck chicken,” the cowboy called. “Now I know it’s true.”

  “You’re the one who took down Aldo Bassani? I heard the guy was like a ninja.” Intelligent brown eyes studied Street from head to toe. “You’re a toe-to-toe heavy-hitter type.”

  “Goes to show you shouldn’t believe everything you hear. Though, they aced the loony part.” Street shrugged. “Now, can I pass? Or do you fancy a round or two?”

  “We’re cool. I’m Hunter.” The stout man presented his fist.

  “Street.” He tapped knuckles with the bloke’s.

  “That’s Oliver and Tyler,” he explained.

  He nodded to each of the men. “You come from the armory?”

  “Yep.” Tyler stowed his gun. “You need in?”

  “Na, I’ve got the code, card, and my blinker is in the system.” Street winked. “I’m just looking for Slaughter. Have you seen her?”

  “So, are you the reason she’s in a shit mood? If you are, I’m not sure I’m ready to put down my weapon.” Oliver scowled.

  “I tend to have that effect on her, yes.” Street pushed a hand into his pocket and tapped the center of his chest with the other. “Here you go.”

  “Damn it.” Oliver holstered his gun. “You have to tell me how you do it. We’ve tried everything to light her up.” He pointed back and forth between him and Hunter. “Nothing works. She’s always so mellow, but not today.”

  At least he affected her in some way. That knowledge made his trip worth the trouble of convincing the queen of England to do him a proper and recommend him for the job.

  “It’s just a gift.” Street shucked his suit coat. “If you’ll excuse me, I have a date with destiny.”

  “Yeah, if your destiny is about four square yards of dirt,” Oliver laughed.

  “Meters for me.” Street stepped past the men and then turned around. “All of our destinies are dirt, unless you get cremated.”

  “You Brits have one hell of a dark sense of humor,” Tyler twanged.

  “It’s the fog.” Street strangled his jacket in one hand and yanked on the tie with his other. “You blokes be safe.”

  “Always.” Hunter bowed his head and then the lot of them headed down the corridor.

  Street turned the corner, braced himself to see Khani again, and then jumped through the ridiculous series of hoops it took to get inside the vault. The door slid open. Her blustery gaze hit him full-on. Both her hands braced on an island in the center of the room. A pen bowed her middle finger, holding it against the back of her others. She stood on the far side with her back to the wall like she always did.

  A laptop sat to her left. She hunched over a map spread across the table. Three bags, rope, a tent roll, headlamps, knives, MRE�
�s, and other gear littered the bench to her right.

  He stepped into the room and her expression hardened. “V already gave you a key to the place, huh?”

  “You’re really going after your brother.” He’d thought her withdrawal from duty, no matter how brief, was a result of his presence. What a whopper he was. She didn’t give two shits about him. When would he ever get that through his soft skull?

  She huffed. “I can’t sit around and wait to find out he froze to death on a trip I pushed him to go on, a trip…” Her slightly uneven front teeth bit her lower lip, stalling her sentence as though she’d said too much.

  “A trip..?”

  Khani slammed the pen onto the table. “A trip I was supposed to go on with him.”

  “You would’ve if you could’ve.”

  “You don’t know that.” She pushed the heel of her hand at her brow and spat the words like venom.

  “Yeah, I do,” he argued.

  “Just because you’ve been inside me doesn’t mean you know me.”

  “Not for lack of desire.” Street took a step forward, and then another. He tossed his coat onto the black counter. Khani’s backbone went arrow straight. She’d break her own spine before she’d back down from anything.

  His heart did flips like a bloody schoolgirl. This lass made him such a sap. He couldn’t bring himself to care. “I’m going to help your headache.” He rounded the counter. His shoes stopped inches from hers. He raised his hands slowly toward her throat.

  The crack of her palms on the back of his hands reverberated through the room and traveled up his arms. “You just want to cop a feel.”

  “Not denying it, but this is strictly homeopathic.” He tried again.

  “I’m a licensed nurse.” She wrapped her hands around his wrists—as much as they would fit—and shoved his hands way.

  Street let his gaze sink into the tempest of hers. He swallowed against the dryness of his throat. Blimey hell, she flipped him on his ear and had him scrambling to find which way was up. He licked his lips. “I would never hurt you.”