She remained curled up on the seat—her breathing was calmer now, but she was pale.
Kell turned to Reid. “We have a major problem—those guys were mercs.” He could recognize them better than most, being one himself.
“Beyond the fucked-up op and this woman?” Reid glanced between Kell and the woman currently passed out in the Jeep. “And it seems like they want her badly—so what the hell did she do?”
“That’s what we need to figure out.”
“First, we need to get the fuck out of here,” Reid said calmly. Too calmly, which meant … “Incoming.”
As bullets flew overhead, they dove into the Jeep, Reid in the driver’s seat and Kell in the back, giving the woman cover with his body and his rifle as Reid skidded along the rocky sand back road toward safety.
Kell turned to try to get a glimpse of who the hell was shooting, managed to fire off a couple of warning shots from his own rifle but didn’t bother trying to do more damage—because why waste ammo when you were firing into the dark—but even with the NVs, he could barely make out anything in front of his face.
“Could’ve just been kidnappers or drug dealers …” Or men trying to cross the border. Or any number of random occurrences that were oh so popular in this part of the world.
“We’re clear,” Reid said, but he didn’t slow down, nor did he head right to the safe house.
Kell stared down at the sleeping woman cradled in his lap and wondered what they’d gotten themselves into this time.
It only took a few moments for the men to decide they would finish the op tonight. There was only one second chance, and it would be at Rivera’s mansion, making the job infinitely harder—and in some ways, more appealing.
First, they needed to make sure the mercs weren’t circling back to tail them—and after half an hour, both were satisfied.
Reid spun the Jeep over the open back road as Kell readied himself for what their next steps would entail. Because this was their plan B and they’d prepped for this eventuality with the keen eye they’d been taught in the Army.
Rivera’s mansion was high on a hill, with more security than one man would ever need unless he was paranoid as hell. That paranoia was his weapon against other men like him—or gang members, all looking to take his place. The guards around Rivera’s property were always on the lookout for blitz attacks, well trained for displays of shock and awe, but Kell and Reid would give them something unexpected.
He closed his eyes and pictured the map they’d pored over earlier. Courtesy of Dylan, it had the most up-to-date approach possibilities.
Dylan Scott was former Delta Force and the man they currently worked with—and for. Dylan had been recruited by the CIA at one point and refused their offer, contending that he worked better alone. These days, he utilized the men he considered friends, like Kell and Reid, wanted them to stick together and keep one another safe in this business of private-contracting black ops, off-the-book missions.
Reid stopped the Jeep at the bottom of the hill, outside the range of security cameras and in a circle of foliage that would do nicely to camouflage the vehicle and the woman inside it.
Kell stepped out of the car after handcuffing the woman’s wrists together and to the inside door handle. She didn’t move, although her chest rose and fell and her color was good when he flashed a penlight on her face.
Exhaustion, mixed with stress. Or maybe she had a concussion or something worse, because he didn’t know a goddamned thing about her beyond the fact that she was a major liability.
He turned away from her to concentrate. The wind rustled. A thin sheen of sweat covered his body and he flexed his hands inside the fingerless gloves he’d pulled on.
Wetwork was his speciality. He could do more with a ballpoint pen than most men could do with an AK-47. Close-quarters battle, silence, stealth. He’d spent the first half of his life being invisible in a crowd. He’d perfected that ability during his time in Delta Force, knew that the line between life and death was a fine one, and he readied himself now.
There was always the possibility of things going wrong. He and Reid had dealt with every contingency but Kell knew they’d be hanging the unconscious woman out to dry with no one to help her.
“If you uncuff her, she’ll run—no doubt straight into this op,” Reid said when he saw Kell look back at her for the millionth time. “She’s safest here.”
“Which isn’t safe at all.”
His friend shrugged. “We don’t even know why those mercs are after her. She could be worse than Rivera and Cruz.”
Reid was right, Kell knew that. But still, his protective instincts were all fired up, and no one was safe from them. “Why don’t you stay here?”
“To protect her?”
Kell didn’t answer that, because that wasn’t the only reason he wanted Reid out of danger. “I’ve got this.”
“You’re fucking kidding me, right?” Reid basically gave Kell the equivalent of the middle finger with his expression and took off up the hill, leaving Kell no choice but to follow.
He gave a final, backwards glance to the well-hidden Jeep and then moved forward, finding two dead guards along the way whom Reid had taken out soundlessly.
The guards had gotten cocky and it would be their downfall tonight.
Kell discovered that Reid had saved a couple of guards for him. They were watching the perimeter of the house from the west, but they were tired, and only focusing on what was in front of them, had not been properly trained—Kell could spot that lack easily.
Kell took down the first man quietly, so as not to alert the second. When the man slid to the ground with his neck snapped, his partner turned to Kell, who took him out efficiently with a pen to the carotid artery, all the while thinking of the destruction this gang of drug dealers and thugs had caused over the past months for the city’s residents. And now nothing else mattered but getting this job done. He moved silently to the mansion, which was lit up like a Christmas tree. If there were guards on the roof, they hadn’t spotted him or Reid.
It was time to put the drug lords to bed for good.
This was his element—had been for a long time. As he left thinking behind, everything became easier. This was instinctive—the prowl, the hunt … even the kill had become as much a part of him as breathing.
He wove around to the back of the house—saw the basement windows half buried behind thick bars.
The glass wasn’t bulletproof, hence the crisscross of metal Rivera thought would keep him safe in the fire- and bombproof bunker.
Assholes should’ve gotten rid of the windows completely. It allowed Kell to see the targets sitting on a couch, drinking and talking. If he looked directly across the room from his position on his belly, he could see Reid, a mirror image to him.
Cruz and Rivera in one place—something big must be going down, because this was incredibly stupid on their part.
Almost as stupid as he and Reid leaving a woman handcuffed in their Jeep, unprotected.
Head in the game, Kell.
Both he and Reid had a perfect shot of their targets. “I’ll take Rivera,” he whispered into the mic around his neck, the words barely voiced, and still Reid heard them clearly.
“Affirmative. From five—my count,” Reid said. Kell steadied his rifle, adjusted the scope and waited for Reid to begin the countdown. They’d have to take the shot at the same time or they’d lose one of the men in the ensuing confusion, for sure.
Kell’s hands remained steady on the trigger. Although he wasn’t a sniper by trade, he’d been trained by the best and he could do this dance when necessary. And when Reid uttered the word one, he and Kell fired simultaneously, Kell’s bullet catching Rivera in the heart and Reid getting Cruz between the eyes.
“Show-off,” Kell muttered, but there was pride in that statement.
“Let’s move out,” Reid said in his ear. “Drop the cards and let’s go.”
The government wanted to send a message to the
gangs and the drug lords—we can get to you, and we will. So Kell dropped the calling cards he’d been given, with the name of some of the higher-ups in the Mexican government who’d promised to clean up the streets of Juarez, even if it killed them—which it might—and then backed down the hill toward the Jeep.
Time to get the hell out of Dodge. Both men were in the Jeep in record time, finding the woman had shifted a little but was basically in the same position as when they’d left. Kell climbed in next to her to stop her from falling out of the vehicle when Reid gunned it as the house alarms finally sounded.
Too late to do any good, but it would bring the calvary. They needed to be as far away as possible, which Reid managed with ease. Within twenty minutes they were on the deserted road that had led to their destination, the wind whistling against Kell’s skin calming the adrenaline-fueled rush he’d come to associate with these missions.
“And the night’s saved,” Reid muttered as they pulled up to the safe house they’d been using for the past few days. “I’ll let Dylan know it’s done.”
God, tonight could’ve been the biggest fuckup imaginable. Still could be, with this woman next to him, but at least their main goal of taking out Rivera was done. Cruz was the icing on the cake—unexpected, and that would be appreciated by the two governments who’d commissioned this job.
Yes, more men would take Rivera’s and Cruz’s place, but not immediately. There would be too much strife and distrust for the gangs to recover completely, and in that time the local policia and other agencies would have a field day ripping Rivera’s place apart and gaining new intel.
The gang had been holding the surrounding towns and cities hostage for too long. This quick shot of violence would put an end to much more—and that’s why Dylan had agreed to take on the job in the first place.
Save the innocents. It was their main goal now and the only thing that comforted Kell as he prepared to bring the woman inside for questioning.
The files were still highly classified. So much so that they were thin as anything and sparse on any real intel, and he put them aside and let the frustration ball inside his chest the way it had for the past four years every time he thought about how Dylan Scott had screwed him.
He’d thought about it a hell of a lot. There’d been nothing else to do while in hiding. And now that he’d paid his debts, it was time to resurface and give his old friend a what’s-up.
He hadn’t needed anyone to fill him in on some of the more pertinent details.
Like the fact that Dylan Scott had been mercing for years. He’d trained the bastard.
That he’d turned the CIA down, the same way Kell Roberts continued to do.
“Kell Roberts is currently running wild. Last known location—Jakarta. Sri Lanka. The Congo. Key Largo.”
Unless stopped, the agent sitting across from him would continue to list all the places Kell Roberts had supposedly been spotted within the past week. “So basically, no one knows where the hell he is, or where he’s been.”
“The guy’s good. They all are.”
He meant the rest of Dylan’s group of merry men. Roberts was rumored to travel with Reid Cormier, a Delta operative who was still active duty but ran black ops missions on the side. A man who’d told his CO he would not re-up next year, when the time came. “If they’re that good, then we have to be better.”
CHAPTER
2
Teddie came to when gunshots shattered the quiet and she jerked up in the darkness. Out of sorts, she struggled to move and realized after a long moment that her wrists were handcuffed together and to the door of the open-topped Jeep she was in.
That’s when the night’s events came rushing back to her like a tsunami and she struggled to breathe.
Shots. Blood. Running …
Don’t be stupid, Teddie … put the gun down.
A rustle of air, and the men appeared seemingly out of nowhere and the Jeep began to move again at a frantic pace.
She closed her eyes to block it all out, played dead because it was easier than screaming, not wanting to think about what she’d gotten herself into … and how it might even be worse than what she’d been running from.
Her shoulder throbbed along with her head, no doubt from running and screaming for so long.
Finally, mercifully, the Jeep came to a jolting halt and the man who’d been holding her in place got out, undid the handcuffs and picked her up.
He set her down on her feet and she opened her eyes, surprised, and steadied herself with her arms on his shoulders, all too aware of his too close proximity. Under these lights, she could see the outline of a ruthlessly chiseled face, narrowed eyes and dark hair … lips that were full, almost sensuous, made to make a woman scream.
“I knew you were faking it,” he said gruffly.
“Not the whole time.”
“No. You’ve been shot.”
She nodded, felt the bandage he must’ve taped over the wound when she’d fainted. Her mouth was dry as sand and her skin felt tight and hot. She was feverish for sure, hadn’t thought an infection could set in so quickly.
Then again, she’d been wrong about so many things.
“What’s your name?” he demanded.
She used her real name for the first time in three hundred and sixty days. “It’s Teddie.”
“That’s a boy’s name. You want to be a boy?”
“What? No, it’s … I didn’t name myself,” she sputtered, and his eyes met and held hers … rimmed silver with blue and brown striations, intense and unsmiling and it still sent a thrill through her, a hard jolt that surprised the hell out of her.
You’re not as jaded as you thought.
She definitely did not want to be a boy. “Theodora.”
He cocked an eyebrow.
“My name is Theodora. Italian on my mom’s side. It was my grandmother’s name—everyone called her Teddie too.” She paused. “What’s yours?”
“It’s Kell. The other guy’s Reid. Those men who are after you—the mercs—what do they want with you?”
So much for the introduction portion of the evening. No more small talk, and she supposed that was smart. The mercenaries could come back, and she had to know what Kell planned on doing with her. “Are you going to turn me over to them?”
“Should I?” Her heart beat so loudly with terror, she was sure he’d hear it, and she could only shake her head no. “Then I won’t. Tell me how you know them.”
There was no way really to lie—she’d been caught running in the dead of night through Mexico with mercenaries on her tail. Nothing but the truth would do … and she wasn’t even sure if that would suffice to make this man believe her story.
“I’m not supposed to tell anyone.”
“Not even the guy who saved your ass?”
He didn’t mention the man he’d called Reid, and she hadn’t seen him since she first came to in the Jeep. She looked toward the house and saw a light, supposed he was in there.
Reid appeared to be the nicer of the two, but that wasn’t saying much since he’d barely spoken to her. She knew what they were. Night vision goggles. Rifles. Men dressed in all black, hiding by the side of the road, ready to take out a drug smuggler or something like that.
More American mercenaries. Talk about out of the frying pan …
Her bag was wound around her and she pushed her hand inside it, searching out what she needed, as stealthily as she could. Kell’s eyes were on her face anyway as she started to speak. “A year ago, those men killed my father—he was a U.S. diplomat living in Khartoum—they also killed my stepmom and my half sisters. I was there—upstairs. They didn’t see me, but I saw them.”
He stared at her for a long moment, as if weighing the truthfulness of her story. “You’re sure that the men who came after you tonight are the same ones who killed your family?”
“Yes.”
“How do you know?”
“Because I’ll never forget their faces,” she whispered
fiercely. The night air was as heavy as a blanket around them and a thin trickle of sweat ran down her back, between her breasts. Everything was sticky, including the way she played this.
He had to help her. Otherwise …
Don’t think about it.
“How did they find you?” Kell asked.
She bit her bottom lip for a second and then told him, “I came to Mexico to meet with someone who had information for me—a man named Samuel Chambers. They found me with him and I shot one of the mercenaries and escaped.” Barely.
“Did he die?”
“I didn’t stick around to admire my handiwork. I knew I couldn’t take all of them down.”
And she was as dangerous as she looked, all five-foot-ten, honey blond–haired, innocent-looking inch of her. She’d shot a merc, was on the run from his cohorts and probably the U.S. Marshals too. And now she was here with him.
Yep, business as usual when he and Reid were together. At least Teddie was telling the truth—as a practiced liar himself, Kell could spot a lie the way most people could spot the sun when it was shining. “What happened to Samuel Chambers?”
“I don’t know. I think he ran too. It was chaos.”
“You have to come with us.”
He waited for her to refuse, but she didn’t. Rather, she pulled her gun out of her bag and leveled it calmly at his chest and said, “I’ll take the Jeep instead.”
Kell bit back a laugh but only because she was so deadly serious and he had to give her some credit for that. She backed away a couple of steps toward the Jeep, held out her free hand and said, “Toss me the keys.”
“You’re going to have to shoot me if you want them,” he told her, and goddamn it all if she didn’t aim and pull the trigger without hesitation. Of course, the fact that he’d taken the ammo out of the gun earlier made it far less intense than it could’ve been, but she hadn’t known she’d be firing empty.
She’d been aiming to kill him—and she would have. For a long moment, they stared at each other, while the enormity of what could’ve just happened hit her. She’d held a look of confidence, even with the fear behind it.
Night Moves: A Shadow Force Novel Page 2
