"Uh, what was I doing? Oh right, saving your sweet behind."
He smiled. She always made him laugh.
"Be right back." This time she brushed a quick kiss across his lips before she tugged her cap down and crept to the side of the building.
Carter pushed thoughts of making love to her out of his mind and focused on the mission. He pulled out his Glock and scanned the area. There were a couple of dim streetlights giving off patchy spots of light but it was mostly dark and shadows. No movement. He didn't want to use the gun but he would if it meant keeping Maggie or RJ safe.
"Clear," he whispered.
"Roger that," she responded. She darted across the lot and hugged the building, keeping to the shadows. Good girl. With a quick glance around, she punched in the code with her gloved finger. He heard the lock pop open through the mic. She tugged the door open just enough to slip through.
"I'm in like Flynn," she said, making him smile. "Okay, no movement detected in the hallway. Walking past the first room on the right, then the second. Stopping at the third." His room. "Jiggling the handle and it appears to be locked. Using your key. Okay, the door's open and I'm going in."
#
Maggie closed the door behind her and let her eyes adjust to the small room. She snapped on her high-powered tactical flashlight, another COBRA gadget. You could tell this place used to be a motel just by the small size and tiny bathroom. "Unless you're a horrible slob, this place has been tossed."
"I'm not surprised," Carter responded softly. "They figured I was a spy."
"Okay, I'm going to get the…" Voices in the hall stopped her cold. She snapped off the light and crouched beside the bed when she heard the doorknob wobble.
"Maggie?" Carter's voice was worried.
"Company," she whispered.
"Be careful," he cautioned unnecessarily, the worry in his tone unmistakable.
Two women entered the room and snapped on the light. "I don't know why Rebel thought Thunder was a spy," one said. "He was too damn handsome to be a spy."
Thunder? Carter had apparently left out the part about his nickname.
"I agree," said the other woman. "I tried to get into his pants but he always had that damn brat hanging around his neck."
"Me, too, but my old man found out I thought he was hot and he had a fit. Beat the crap out of me."
"Mine does that if I look at him wrong," the other woman commiserated.
Maggie felt a wave of sympathy for these women. They were both heavily made up, with big hair, lots of leather and abundant cleavage that didn't look God-given. She wanted to lecture them on taking charge of their lives. Leaving their abusive husbands or boyfriends. They didn’t need to live this way. But it was their choice. If they wanted to do drugs and serve as human punching bags, nothing she could say would change their minds.
"Why'd Rebel have to bring that kid here anyway," the first woman complained. "This ain't no place for a tot. All the other members with kids live elsewhere. That was Rebel's rule. Then he goes and breaks it for his boy."
"He acts like he don't even love him. And the kid is scared to death of him. He's been hiding in his room since Thunder died."
Maggie knew Carter could hear the conversation and her heart hurt for him. He had to be wracked with guilt and worry.
"You mean since Rebel killed him," the woman corrected. "He's been bragging to everyone that he capped his ass."
"Let's find that damn dog and get out of here. They'll be bringing out the good stuff soon and we don't want to miss out."
The women picked up clothes and tossed them aside. Maggie's heart beat faster. What if they looked under the bed and found her? She was confident she could take them both, but she didn't want to alert anyone to her presence.
"Are you safe?" Carter asked quietly.
"Yes," she whispered, praying it was true.
"I'm coming in," he said.
"No." She hoped he understood the force behind her comment.
Two spiked heels clipped into her line of sight. She pushed back as far as she could in the shadows. The woman bent down and started to lift the edge of the comforter. Maggie's breath lodged in her throat.
"Here it is," the other woman called out.
The comforter dropped and the woman got to her feet. "Good. Oh, look." She bent back down and picked something up off the floor. "Thunder's undies," she said triumphantly. "I'm keeping these as a souvenir."
"Eww," Maggie mouthed. Keep your hands off my man's drawers, she wanted to shout. She didn't want his undies in some biker chick's hands.
"Oh, got me a pair, too," the other woman crowed.
Maggie growled.
Carter's chuckle sounded through the mic.
"Like that, do you?" she whispered. "Make you feel like a stud?"
"Little bit," he laughed.
She smiled. The woman flicked off the light and closed the door.
"Shut up and let me get to work," she groused, but she was smiling. She crawled out, snapped on her light and began taking the bed frame apart. In a few minutes, she unscrewed the pipe that held the contraband. "Got it," she boasted.
"You rock," Carter said with appreciation.
"Don't forget it," she responded, pushing to her feet. She secured the bounty in her boot and hurried to the door. "I'm coming out."
She opened the door slowly and stuck her head out. "Coast is clear." She'd just stepped into the hall when Carter's panicked voice made her jerk to a stop. "Unfriendlies approaching," he barked. "They're coming in now. Hide!"
Maggie froze. She glanced right, then left but there was nowhere to run. She was well and truly caught.
Chapter Eight
"Who the hell are you?"
The man barking the question looked like a stereotypical biker: huge, long hair and beard, beer gut, lots of black leather. And the look he was shooting her was scary. The other man was tall and thin, with a scraggly beard and hair.
"My loser ex owes me money," she trilled in her best trailer park drawl. So much for pretending to be homeless. But a field agent had to adapt at a moment's notice she rationalized. "I came to get it back."
"Who's your ex?" biker dude number two asked.
"Er…" Maggie searched for a name that could fit a grungy biker.
"Hot Rod Gordon," Carter said before she could think up a name.
Maggie thrust her shoulders back and said with confidence, "Hot Rod Gordon."
"Well, Hot Rod ain't here," number one said. He looked her up and down and her skin crawled. "But I am." He hitched up his chain-link belt. No kidding—it was made of real chain.
"Tempting," she said, suppressing a shudder. "But I've gotta go. Tell Hot Rod I'll be back."
She marched past them but the fat one reached out and snagged her arm. "Where do you think you're going, sweetheart? I don't even know your name."
"It's Penny. Penny Lane," she supplied. "And please unhand me. I really have to go." Carter growled through the com.
"Not so fast."
Her attack was quick and efficient. She started with a jab that stunned him and followed it with a quick uppercut elbow to his eyebrow, hoping to get it bleeding so his vision would be compromised. As he grabbed his now-bleeding face, she finished off with a reverse roundhouse kick to his fleshy belly, sending him reeling backwards into biker dude number two. They collapsed like dominoes. She spared a moment to thank Dante for her Krav Maga training before bolting out the door. Carter was there so she jumped on the bike and he peeled off. She chanced a look over her shoulder. She might've stunned number one, but he wasn't out. He burst out the door, one hand covering his bloody eye, the other firing a gun. "Shooter," she yelled. Carter jerked his head back and gunned the engine. She realized she didn't need to yell since they were both still wearing their com units.
"What if they come after us?"
"You don't have to worry about that." She turned one more time to see both biker dudes kicking their motorcycles and shaking fists in their dir
ection.
"They won't run without these," he said, holding his hand open to display two sets of grimy spark plugs.
"Genius," she praised, hugging his back tighter. He tossed the plugs into a dumpster as they sped past.
#
The first part of their plan worked perfectly. Now to get RJ. They drove Maggie's brother's refurbished 1969 Boss 302 Mustang with a souped-up V8 engine. There was some serious speed in this bad boy. Ethan made Maggie promise everything short of her first-born to handle it with care. Carter didn't blame him. If he had a ride this sweet, he'd baby it, too.
Adding another line to the 'he loved her' column, she stroked his masculine ego, letting him drive in since he'd hopefully have his hands full with his nephew on the way out.
"So, Thunder?"
Carter's mouth twisted into a rueful smile. "Delta nickname."
"How'd you get it?"
"Because I'm as strong as Thor, the god of thunder."
She grinned and stroked his bicep. "I can see that."
He gulped and had to force himself to focus on the road.
"Now tell me the real reason."
He jerked his gaze to her, her mouth in an adorable, knowing smile.
"What? You don't buy that?"
"I have two fierce special ops brothers and their nicknames are not so vanilla as being named after a Norse god."
He sighed. "Damn Disney. It started out as Lightning after that cocky racecar in the movie."
"Oh, I get it," she laughed. "Cars. Lightning McQueen. Ha!"
"Yeah, ha," he grumbled. "Not too original. But I was more bulk than speed, so they started calling me thunder instead. It stuck."
"I like it," she purred. "Besides, you do look like a Norse god."
He swerved. He wanted to pull over to the side of the road and ravish her like a Norse god. But they had a mission to complete.
He angled into a spot at the back of the meeting hall Rebel booked with easy access to the exit. Turning off the engine, he swiveled to face her. "Thank you again for all you're doing for me and RJ." She smiled, looking absolutely adorable in her elf costume. He leaned forward and kissed her. She hummed and he couldn't help but deepen the kiss. He wanted to take his time, explore every inch of her amazing body. But they didn't have time. He pulled back and framed her face between his hands. "I'm serious. It's Christmas Eve and I know you'd rather be with your family, but—"
"Shh," she said, a finger covering his mouth. "There's no place I'd rather be than with you."
That did it. He fell all the way in love with her. With a rough growl, he pulled her into his arms and proceeded to kiss the ever-loving daylights out of her. They were both breathing heavily when they pulled apart.
"You kiss pretty darn good for an old man," she teased, easing his mustache and beard into place.
"You kiss pretty darn good, period," he said, his heart on his red velvet sleeve.
The look she gave him said that Santa would be getting lucky on Christmas Eve—if they lived through the night.
Chapter Nine
"Can you hear me?" Maggie asked, doing a quick mic check.
"Loud and clear," Carter answered.
"I have the target in sight," she informed him. "Approaching now."
She walked up to the man dressed in the red suit and waited until he took a swig of the silver flask he had stashed inside his suit. Nice. "Excuse me," she chirped. "I feel really bad about this, but I was in charge of hiring you and I'm afraid I double booked." She tried hard to look pathetic. "I called another Santa and offered him the job first but when he didn’t respond right away, I called you and…" she rambled on, not even sure what she was saying.
Santa hiccupped and focused his glazed eyes on her as he swayed. "What're ya saying, missy?"
This man was allowed near children? If she ever had kids, she'd never let them out of her sight. "That we won't be needing you tonight. Since it's my fault, we'll double your fee."
"S'right? Double?"
She nodded, surreptitiously waving a hand in front of her face to erase the overpowering stench of alcohol he emitted. "It'll be reflected in the check." She held up two, then three, then two fingers to convey honesty. She'd never been a Girl Scout so she wasn't sure which fingers counted.
He nodded. "Righteous. I'll just be going…"
"Wait." She grabbed his arm. "Are you sure you should be driving?" She'd bet her life savings he'd blow a .2 or higher.
"Cab," he slurred. "Call me one. I'll be…" he pointed in the vicinity of the parking lot. "There."
"Sure," she agreed, making a mental note to do that after they rescued a helpless child from the clutches of a notorious gang and stopped that same gang from supplying drugs and guns to terrorists and preventing the kidnapping of dozens of innocent women.
#
"You're on, Santa."
"Roger that," Carter replied. He pushed open the door, the heavy sack of toys he'd swiped from drunk Santa slung over his back. "Ho, ho, ho," he called out, drawing the attention of every child in the room. "Merry Christmas!"
Shouts of "look, it's Santa," and "Merry Christmas, Santa," rang through the room. Carter searched the faces for RJ, his heart pounding when he didn't spot his nephew. Where could he be? Maggie joined him and ushered him over to the throne. Good thing. He was numb with worry.
"Okay, children," Maggie announced, "line up to meet Santa."
Several kids rushed to be the first in line, pushing and shoving. One boy elbowed a girl out of the way. Another socked his friend in the eye, trying to be first. This was the way these people were raising their children? "God help us all," he murmured.
"Now, kids," Maggie chastised. "Everyone will get a turn, but if you can't behave, that'll upset Santa and he'll have to put you on his naughty list. You'll be getting a lump of coal."
That did the trick as they all plastered angelic smiles on their grimy faces. Little brats.
"What's your name?" Maggie asked the kid who was thirteen if he was a day. This was supposed to be for little kids. "Butch," he boasted. The kid behind him sniggered. "It's Bobby." Butch/Bobby shot the kid the finger.
"Hey," Maggie scolded. "Are you trying to get coal?"
"Sorry," he mumbled.
"Santa's bag of toys is for the younger kids first, so those of you eight and over, if you can wait over there, Santa will get to you as soon as the little ones are taken care of.
There was mumbling and dirty looks and cursing. Maggie gave up warning about coal. They'd hopefully be out of here before then.
"Any sign of the target?" she whispered through the mic as she ushered a little red-headed girl with a missing tooth forward.
"Negative," he replied, scanning the room. "He has to be here somewhere." He plastered on a smile and reached for the little moppet.
"What's your name, sweetness?"
"Tiffani, with an i," she replied, flashing her toothless grin. She wiggled on his lap and he had to stifle the groan as his battered ribs protested.
"Well, Tiffani with an i, what would you like Santa to bring you for Christmas?"
Tiffani with an i proceeded to name every doll, video game and stuffed animal known to man. He nodded absently while he scanned the room. His eyes widened when he spotted his nephew. RJ was perched beneath a table at the back of the room.
"Target spotted."
"What, Santa?"
He refocused on Tiffani with an i. This was a good place to stop her. He reached into his bag and pulled out a toy. "Here's a little something until I can get around later to visit you at home."
Tiffani with an i glanced at the toy and then at him with an incredulous look. "I waited in line for this?" She shoved off his lap and stomped off the stage. "Sheesh."
Ungrateful little imp.
He made eye contact with Maggie and then glanced in RJ's direction. She nodded. "Got him," she said as she escorted the next child in line. Carter half listened to the curly-headed little boy tell him about all of the Dungeons of
Dread and Doom characters he wanted for Christmas. Wasn't the kid a little young for murder and mayhem? He'd seen Butch/Bobby whispering in the kid's ear, so he probably bullied the kid to ask for the toys he wanted. Maggie was crouched on the ground, speaking to RJ. His shoulders slumped in relief as he watched the little boy trustingly place his hand in Maggie's. "Target acquired," she said, leading RJ to the stage. He hurried the curly-headed kid away, giving him one of the toys from the bag. This kid looked happier to receive his than little miss Tiffani with an i.
"Okay, kiddos," Maggie announced. "I'm going to let this little tyke go next since he has to use the bathroom."
"I don't have to use—"
Maggie smiled and shushed RJ, ushering him forward.
There was some grumbling amongst the preschoolers, but thankfully no fights broke out.
Carter settled RJ on his lap and fought the urge to weep. He had his nephew back and he wasn't letting go. "Hi there, RJ."
RJ's blue eyes rounded. "You know my name, Santa?"
"I sure do," he confirmed. "And I know that you are a very good boy. What would you like Santa to bring you for Christmas?" Whatever it was, he'd make sure to get it for him. He didn't care if the kid asked for a Maserati. If RJ wanted it, RJ would get it. Simple as that.
"I only want one thing for Christmas," he said in his little boy voice.
"What's that?"
"I want my friend Thunder to come back and get me and take me away from here."
Carter had to force the lump down his throat. It took a moment before he could speak. He saw Maggie wipe a tear from her eye.
"Kids, Santa will be taking a small break," she announced in a watery voice. "This little one needs to use the bathroom and he's asked Santa to take him."
That was Carter's cue. He stood up and tucked RJ safely in his arms, ignoring the pain in his shoulder and his ribs. "How about I make your Christmas wish come true right now?"
"Yes, please," RJ breathed, wrapping his arms trustingly around Carter's neck.
Saving Santa Page 5
