by Milly Taiden
“Kellems,” she whispered, though not sure why, “no one was going to help these guys. I can’t just leave them to die when I can fly just as well as any SF.”
“Candy,” Kellems said, “you are disobeying a direct order.” He was silent a moment. “How close are you?”
“Almost halfway. ETA ten minutes,” she replied. “Is Sanders there?”
“No, he left after he talked to you. I don’t think he knew you were airborne.”
“I think that’s obvious, Kellems,” she said. “Do you want these men to die because I don’t have SF at the end of my name?”
“No, Candy, but that’s not my job. I can’t make that decision.”
“Okay, here’s the deal, Kellems,” she said. “I didn’t take off. I heard what Sanders told me and I abandoned the mission. I’m now in my bunk getting ready for dinner. That’s all you know. Radio silence begins now.” She flipped the mic button, cutting off any sound on her side.
“Dammit, Candy.” Anger came from his voice, but she wasn’t worried about him. She saw the familiar landmark of her last pickup and passed it to reach the coordinates given earlier. Finding a flat area behind a rock outcropping, she set it down. Sand whipped into the air, creating her own dust storm. She had no idea where the men were. Hopefully, they saw her.
Through the hazy view came a group of men. One giant of a male carried an injured soldier over his shoulders. Following him, two others continued shooting their guns as they backed through the kicked-up grit. Those two were bloody, but on their feet. As soon as they were in, she started lift off.
The men shouted for her to wait. There was another coming. One of the soldiers yelled out a name she knew, telling this guy to hurry his ass up. If it was the same person she knew, she hoped he was okay. She liked him. He was funny and sweet. Big, though, over six feet tall and muscles out the wazoo. In fact, all these men on her craft were exceptionally big.
On the front of the helo, bullets from enemy fire ricocheted off the metal moving up to the windshield. Time was up. Despite the men’s objections, she lifted off the ground. One sacrificed for the good of the many. Barely off the ground, her head turned and she saw a wolf materializing out of the sand-filled air. With a leap, the animal covered fifteen feet of ground and slid through the open side door.
Candy banked away from ground zero, intensifying the mess of debris in the air, hopefully making the enemy’s shot off-target. Her heart pounded and adrenaline rushed through her system. That was the norm for combat evacs. But she’d never had her helo hit before.
Two things stood out on that mission, besides the Alpha Charlie ass-chewing she got after landing: On the way back, a guy said she didn’t smell like one of their pilots. She thought he must’ve said “spell” as some jargon of theirs meaning she didn’t have SF at the end of her name indicating special certification. And after they landed, no four-legged creature got off the chopper, but the guy whose name they called climbed down from of the back, buck naked. She knew he didn’t get onboard in that condition. That wasn’t something she would likely miss.
She never got the chance to talk to any of the guys as they were shipped out almost immediately while she carried out the punishment of being Latrine Queen for a week. They went easy on her since she did save the lives of five men, or four men and a dog/wolf.
Now, in the security room of the NIA building, she looked into the gorgeous eyes of the hot man close enough to kiss and said, “Are you a wolf?”
CHAPTER 14
Josh didn’t know what to say to his mate’s question. There was so much to tell her and they had another crisis to handle at the same time. He guided her inside. As if she were in a long-lost memory, she followed him quietly then sat in one of the desk seats. What clued him into her being in a quasi trance? The fact he had his arm around her without her threatening to kick his balls into his throat and that she then let him hold her hand.
He plopped into his own chair and rolled to her so their knees touched. He placed his elbows on his thighs then sat back and rubbed a hand over his face. “Sergeant Maj—”
His mate held up her hand. “I’ve seen you naked. No more military titles. I don’t want to think of military men in the buff.”
About fucking time! He didn’t want her calling him anything weird when he finally got her naked. This was a big step forward.
“Okay, Candy,” he said. “Yes, I’m a wolf. And so are my guys, except Frank is a cougar, and Parish is a black jaguar, as you saw.” He watched her eyes carefully, ready to take her down if she went for the gun cabinet. She just nodded, chewing on the inside of her cheek.
“That makes a lot of sense, now,” she said, running shaky fingers through her hair. “I knew a wolf got on, but a very nude man climbed out.”
A growl rumbled in his chest. What man and why was he undressed?
She blinked wide eyes at him. “Is that you? Are you growling?”
He told his wolf to chill. He had no idea what or when she was talking about. Now was time to pay attention to their mate, not jump to conclusions.
“So,” she said, “that’s what makes your organization so special.” Still nodding, she continued. “And that’s why you’re all so big, stature-wise.”
“Not all of us, but those working with the government usually are because of what we do,” he said.
“And that’s, what, exactly?” she asked.
“Well, in ALFA, we do what’s needed, from personal security to tracking down international bad guys.”
“Oh,” she blinked at him. “Like watching over a mafia female or discovering a human trafficking ring in Europe.”
“Yeah, like those,” he said, running his fingers through his hair. She had called him out on those recent jobs. Though the missions weren’t totally screwed up, they had their moments. His mate seemed too quiet. “You have any questions?”
She shook her head. “No, not right now. Not really. I’m sure I will eventually. A lot of them.”
Okay. She was going through a bit of shock. That was normal and understandable. “I’m sure this comes as a huge surprise,” he said.
“Well, sort of,” she responded, her voice still lacking that bite he was used to. “Not as incredible as what happened in New Mexico, but yeah.”
“What happened in New Mexico?” he asked.
Her hand covered her mouth. “Oops. Nothing. You’re really messing with my head.”
He sat forward in his chair. “You talking about Area 51? That New Mexico?” he questioned.
She spun her chair to face the wall of monitors and pushed buttons on the board. “I wonder what we missed while outside?”
“Hey,” he said. “That’s not fair.”
She grinned at him. “Sorry, dude. If I tell you—”
Josh flopped back in his chair. “Then you’ll have to kill me.” He winked at her, hoping to make everything normal again.
“You got it.” Her smile lit him up inside. Candy continued to mess with buttons and knobs, as camera footage ran backward.
He wasn’t sure what had happened, but he felt as if they’d crossed a long and scary slatted-wood bridge dangling a hundred feet above snapping crocodiles. He was light and happy. She looked relaxed and focused. She smelled content with a tinge of arousal. Was that for him? It had better be, or he’d be kicking someone’s ass.
“Here it is,” she said, pushing buttons.
“What are you looking for?” he asked.
She said, “Before I came outside, Yulian was talking to the newswoman. I think he may have said something important.”
“We saw the camera guy turn the light on and the mic cord stretched inside, but that was it,” Josh said. “Any idea what Yul said?” He glanced up at a small TV mounted on the wall. A five second commercial promo identified the station as the same as the letters on the van outside. A regular nighttime
show played—no live footage, so this crisis was still under some control.
“No clue what he said, but we’re about to find out.” She twisted a knob. “Hopefully, it’ll answer some questions we have. Like what the hell is going on? And where is his brother?”
He noted her usage of “we.” That was a good sign, right? The security camera footage played on a larger monitor sitting on the desk in front of them. He watched as the reporter hesitantly stepped toward the glass door to hand off the microphone, then hurry back toward the camera.
The guy argued with one of his men in Russian, then stood behind the NIA director tied to a chair. “‘Ello, Americans and people of Vashington, DC—”
Candy looked at Josh and asked, “Is that the same voice as the YouTube we heard upstairs?”
He nodded. “Yeah, the one you said was Yulian, so that much we have right.”
The video continued: “. . . your government do dis to my family. I am here to tell you my story. My American father marry my Russian mother then you kill him years later—”
“What the hell?” Josh asked. “Is he giving us his life story?”
“Sounds like it,” Candy replied as she typed into a laptop sitting to the side. “God, does he think this is Lifetime or something? I can’t believe he’s telling the truth. There has to be a good explanation if he is.”
He grunted. “He’s trying to justify why he’s doing this. What has that got to do with him taking hostages?” Josh couldn’t believe this joker. There was no reason ever to threaten innocent lives, to bully others into doing what you wanted.
“Great,” Candy said, scanning through the laptop’s screen contents. “He and his brother have a grudge against the U.S. government.”
“Why?” he asked. “What happened to them?” The CIA logo rested in the corner of the website Candy clicked and typed into.
“According to their intelligence file, the boys’ father was an American who married their Russian mother. They lived in Russia as their father worked as an ambassador-like person of some kind.” She paused and scrolled farther down on the screen. “In the early 2000s, he was recalled to the States.”
“Why?” Josh said moving closer.
“Espionage charges,” Candy continued.
“Did he have a trial?” Josh asked. Candy skimmed longer.
“Shit. The father was killed on a street in DC, coming to the NIB,” she said.
“By whom?” he placed a hand over her shoulder, and she sat up but didn’t say anything to him touch.
“Case unsolved,” she replied. “But notes say they think another Russian spy already here took him out before he could testify. Not much after that,” she said. “Bunch of gibberish.” She clicked the back button a couple of times.
“So you’re telling me this guy and his brother are seeking revenge on the U.S. government fifteen years after their father’s murder? And we didn’t even do it.” Josh found that cowardly. Yeah, it was a shitty hand dealt to them, but what they were doing now was more wrong.
“Here’s something more,” Candy said, her voice excited. “Looks like we kept eyes on the mom and boys for a while in Russia. Says here the mom died from illness a couple years later, leaving the boys on their own. The two dropped out of school and melted into the Russian underground. End of file.”
“How old were they,” he asked, taking a few steps back and trying to calm his animal.
“Yulian was fifteen. Mikhail was seventeen,” she said. “God, poor kids. No wonder they are the way they are as adults. To survive on their own in that environment . . .”
Her expression and smell turned sad. Even though these guys were terrorists, his mate was caring enough to feel sorry about their situation as children. She may show a hard-lined bitch face to the world, but underneath she was a gooey chocolate chip cookie. One he’d spread open to let the hot chips drip like honey as his tongue caught the ambrosia. He licked his lips and pivoted his chair away from her, hiding his filled dick.
“Oh, this isn’t good,” she said. She wasn’t talking about cock, was she?
CHAPTER 15
In the security room of the NIB, Josh snapped from his sex-filled daydream before it even started. His mate was a couple of feet from him and he couldn’t touch her without her freaking out on him. Apparently, something had happened to her in the past to make her afraid of touch. He needed to find out what and get her past it.
Candy slid down the counter in front of the monitors to the side, closer to the computer.
“What isn’t good?” he asked.
“Director Pommer worked with the two boys’ dad, but Pommer wasn’t director back then, but in charge of the State Department.” She paused, eyes whipping side to side across the form she had pulled up on the computer. “Shit. Pommer was the one who authorized the boys’ father for interrogation.”
“Well, that explains why here and why tonight,” Josh surmised. “This dedication was the perfect opportunity to get back at the people who the boys think ruined their lives.”
“I agree.” Candy sat back and rubbed her eyes. “Shit. So not good.” She returned to the camera footage of Yulian’s speech and fast-forwarded through it. Josh guessed she wasn’t concerned what story the terrorist told. She knew the truth and that’s all she needed. “Let’s see if he offers any type of demands at the end of his boohoo,” she said.
They watched and listened. The accent was thick. The man went on about Russia and the true motherland. Blah, blah, blah.
Candy jerked forward to stop the video. “Did you see that?”
Josh about fell out of his chair from her sudden movement. His little woman was as fast as a snake strike. “What?” he asked. Of course, he didn’t see it. He was staring at her. The screen showed rewinding material.
She leaned forward and placed her finger on the monitor. “Look what he does.” She clicked the mouse and the picture played at normal speed. Josh watched as Yulian’s arm and head moved with no interruption of his story. “Did you see it?” She turned to him. “He looked at his watch.”
Yes, that was what the slight movement was. “That’s interesting,” he said.
“Exactly what I thought.” Candy sat back, finger tapping her chin and pressing her lips into a pucker. “What is he waiting for? Obviously, there is an agenda in the works.”
“What do you think it is?” he asked. “You seem to know more about them than anyone else right now.”
“All I know is they are unpredictable,” she came back. “They are smart and in with technology. They don’t do anything old school. And I don’t like this.” She pointed to the screen again. “Look at the other guys. Their guns are hanging at their sides. This is all a joke to them.”
As Josh studied the image, Yulian knocked the microphone on the director’s head and threw it at the door. “Ve are about to have fun soon, Pommer. Let’s get de party started.” His mate sucked in a breath and snapped her eyes to the camera. Something was going through her head and he suddenly felt very worried.
Candy popped up from her chair and headed for the gun locker. Her smell wasn’t right. It was desperate, irrational. Josh was on her tail. “What are you planning, Candy?” he asked.
“I’m going to pick them off one by one before they kill someone.” She pulled out a sniper rifle and whipped around to face him.
“Whoa there.” He blocked her way. “I don’t think that’s a good idea. There are too many of them and you have no good vantage point to set up.” He grabbed the rifle barrel and jerked the weapon over his head, dragging her toward him, right to his bare chest.
He hadn’t taken the minute to put his shirt back on since coming in from outside. In fact, most of his clothes still lay on the ground on the other side of the door. Going commando in his pants gave him a free, wild sense.
Her hands landed on his chest. The little fingers were hot.
His skin sizzled, though he knew it was the electricity between them. Their chemistry would be off the charts.
She was pissed, shooting daggers from her eyes. He backed her against the closed locker. Quickly her mood changed to sweet arousal.
“Candy.” Her name slipped from his lips after a deep breath of her. His eyes still locked on hers, he leaned his head down to take her lips. He didn’t waste any time. Hunger for her made him desperate. Rough. Ferocious. Her open lips gave him an easy entry into her sweet depths. His tongue plundered, tasted, dominated, and took. He’d wanted her and now he was getting her. He was beyond thinking. It was time to feel. She pulled him closer. Time stopped. Everything got foggy as his sole focus became the moans he heard and the scent of her arousal.
The kiss turned wilder, desperate and consuming. He should stop. He should stop right now. Her whimpers grew, and he envisioned ripping off her clothes. Fuck, but she felt so damn good.
When he pulled back, her breath feathered over his cheek. “J-Josh . . .” The scent of fear slapped his face.
“Candy, it’s okay. I would never hurt you.” He moved slightly so he no longer touched her, but barely. Her face reddened and she reached out for the rifle in his hand. The diversion hadn’t worked. Fuck. He’d been too rough. Let his control slip too much and he’d scared her.
“Hey,” he said gently, “did you hear me? I would never hurt you.”
She pushed away from him, her eyes not meeting his. “I know that.” She sat on the task chair at the monitors and stared at one of the screens.
“Candy,” he said. She cringed a bit. His heart died a little. He wanted to ask about her past, but he couldn’t bring himself to do it. If it was bad, he didn’t want her remembering things that would make her angry or sad.
Sirens suddenly reached his ears. In the exterior views, black-and-whites with red lights flashing on top screeched to a stop up and down the street. Police officers swarmed the area, some even coming onto the back of the property.
