by Wendy Byrne
Six men lined up, breaking into groups of three on either side of the road. There was nothing lax about their posture, or in the way they held their weapons. The difference between them and the last group was night and day.
Kane stopped the car and told the same story, except the tenor turned hostile almost immediately. "How long have you been in Austria?" One of the men leaned into the car window, glancing around the interior as he asked the question. "Let me see your passport."
"I'm on holiday and going to visit my girlfriend in Germany." Kane handed over his French passport.
"Where did you say you were going?"
"I'm headed to Munich." Kane figured he'd better look for an escape route. Unless he missed his guess, this was going to go bad quick, and he needed to be prepared.
"Why are you traveling through Austria if you're from France?" The man asked as he put a hand on Kane's shoulder and squeezed.
"I grew up in Avignon, but I was visiting some friends in Austria." Out of all the languages he spoke, French was his strongest. Most people thought he was a native.
"How did you meet your girlfriend?"
The guy was coming on strong, trying to make a point, while the others had lost interest. Which worked in his favor for the time being.
"At university." He said the first thing that came to mind, but he could tell the guy wasn't buying it.
God only knew what Sabrina was doing inside the trunk. If he had to guess, she was a hair's breadth away from bursting out, guns blazing.
Between her trigger finger and this guy's persistence, this had all the makings of DEFCON 1 waiting to happen. It was only a matter of time before he had six guns pointed in his direction.
"I know you from somewhere…" The guy's voice trailed off.
"Yeah, I get that a lot. I guess I have one of those faces." Kane shrugged and held his breath. Being undercover for several years, this kind of thing happened. Most times it was inconsequential. Waiting it out was the only possible way to play this for now. He hoped Sabrina was equally as patient.
"Inspect the vehicle," the guy commanded in German as he raised his gun and pointed it at Kane's temple.
Immediately, the others snapped to attention and moved toward the car. One of the guys started to pull on the handles of the locked door. Next thing he knew, Sabrina kicked out the panel and fired a quick barrage, catching the guy mid-chest. Wiggling her body through the opening, she scooted onto the seat. She threw the guy's body out the door and closed it while Kane sped away.
Kane glanced into the rearview mirror and spotted three men hopping into a car. Considering the hilly terrain and their military-style Jeep, Kane figured the odds were in the bad guys' favor.
"Hurry." She pounded her fist on the back of the front seat as a bullet shattered the side mirror.
Kane drove, inching the speedometer toward ninety, taking the curves and the bumps at the same speed. She held on to the passenger side headrest as if her life depended on it.
"How close are they?" A rumble of fear skittered along Kane's spine. He never worried much when he was alone, but working with somebody else he always felt responsible for them as well.
A spray of bullets riddled the back of the car.
"There's your answer," she called back.
"Any ideas?" He gripped the wheel with both hands as the tug of the rough terrain fought for control.
"Other than drive faster? No. I'm leaving it all in your capable hands."
She eased out another round. They returned her fire, destroying the back window.
"You okay?" he called. They were getting closer. More accurate.
"Yeah. But I think I should take over the driving. I do this sort of thing all the time."
"When there's a break in the action, I'll give you a crack at it if you think you can do better." He reached into the compartment between the seats. "In the meantime, do you know how to use a grenade? Oh, hell, what am I thinking? Of course you do." He handed them to her. "I only have two, so use them wisely."
"Going old school, huh." She tapped on the sunroof. "Open this up." Seconds later, she let them fly. "I suggest you move it, Kane."
The car lurched as the explosion rocked behind them. The grenade landed a few feet ahead of the car chasing them, but it seemed to have stopped them in their tracks.
She seemed unfazed. In fact, it seemed almost like she was in her element. Once again, he couldn't help but wonder where she'd been trained prior to coming to Alliance. Maybe the Israeli Army?
"Nice shot." For the first time in a while, he was able to take a deep breath. "There's an intersection coming up. We'll ditch this car, then head the other way on foot."
"Except for the almost-getting-killed thing, that was kind of fun. I now have a new favorite toy." She crawled from the back seat to the front to sit beside him. He didn't know how or why, but it felt oddly reassuring to have her there.
"Grenades are a little messy. Causes a lot of attention, so it's not the way to go unless you're desperate."
She turned, bringing her left leg onto the seat. He couldn't believe how relaxed she looked. And people thought he had nerves of steel. He had nothing on this woman.
"What happened back there?"
"One of the guys recognized me and pointed a gun to my head right before the shit hit the fan."
"I didn't jump the gun, did I?" she asked.
"I couldn't believe you waited that long."
"I'm still getting used to the gun, so I didn't want to miss."
"Yeah, well, a few seconds later and my brains would have been spilled on the front seat."
"That had to be a little scary."
"Not for me. I'm the big bad FBI guy." He laughed. "Truthfully, I was scared shitless. If I weren't, I'd be an idiot."
Weird. Never had he been so comfortable with anybody that he knowingly admitted fear, especially when she was displaying none. From an early age he'd always been able to project being the epitome of calm and confident despite the chaos going on at home or on the job. Maybe she was able to do the same. Something about Sabrina was making him more aware of that prickle of self-doubt lurking underneath his surface.
"Hooking up with me has brought about a whole set of problems you hadn't figured on." She chewed her lip, signaling to him she was hedging about something.
"Undoubtedly. But then again, you have that sparkling personality that more than makes up for it."
If he had to guess, she was trying to weasel out of this pseudo-partnership they'd developed. But that wasn't going to happen. He knew what she was after, and even if it wasn't for exactly the same reasons, he wanted it too. No way was he going to let her get to Marco before he got what he needed from the man.
Sabrina tapped her finger against her thigh. He could see the wheels turning inside her head. "I have some connections in Italy. We're not very far from the border. If you bring me there, I can go off on my own."
He reached across the front seat, securing her hand in his. "Like it or not, you could use my help. It doesn't hurt I've figured out a way to take down Marco without him seeing it coming. We're going to sneak right into his backyard and find out all his secrets."
So he exaggerated a bit. He wanted to get at the information as much as she did. While he might need it for a different purpose, that didn't mean they couldn't work together on this.
"You've piqued my interest. How are we getting to Marco? As I remember from that lovely experience, he has a ton of guards." A smile pulled up the edges of her mouth. "I'm good, but I'm not sure about you."
A rumble of laughter erupted from his chest. "You're good, all right. But we're both even better when most all of Marco's guys are eating up the countryside trying to find a certain redhead that's royally pissed him off. There's also that little thing with G that's got his underwear in a twist and him in hot water with the big man. And now that he knows you're still in the area, the countryside is going to be crawling with dirt bags. And on top of that, no doubt Marco's still
pissed about you helping Liz get away."
Despite the light tenor of their conversation, it was difficult not to fixate on the elephant in the room—all the poor women who'd already been sucked into the system. Memories of a childhood filled with worry about his mother's safety seemed to pulse at the base of his skull. Maybe Nellis was right. This assignment struck too close to home.
"Which reminds me, who is G? Do you know any of the other buyers?"
Thankful for the reprieve from his memories, he said, "Haven't a clue. Everything is in code. All I know is most have more money than I could ever dream about, and most are regular customers of Marco's."
"How do you know all this?"
"I planted some devices that allow me to be privy to tactical information. Somebody will probably find them sooner or later, since they regularly sweep for bugs, but for the time being, everything that goes down there is being sent straight to the FBI."
"Speaking of which, what is your plan for breaking in?"
This was the part that hadn't gelled in his head. While it was risky, there weren't any other options. He didn't know why, but there was no doubt in his mind Sabrina was going to attempt this, on her own. She wasn't letting go. And neither was he. Together there was a slim chance they'd be successful.
"Marco's got lots of vehicles, but not a motorcycle. With most of his guys scouring the countryside, he won't be expecting us. We seize the element of surprise and take the dirt path that winds through the forest. There's no way a car could fit through there."
She threw her head back and laughed. "You've got to be kidding me. You call that a plan?"
"Come on, haven't you seen The Great Escape? Steve McQueen riding that motorcycle?"
What had Nellis called him? ADD with an adrenaline junkie chaser? He was beginning to believe maybe he was right.
"If I remember correctly, he was captured by the Germans in the movie."
"Minor detail. We'll be in and out before you know it." They needed luck and massive amounts of firepower. Just in case.
"What about the tunnels?"
"They've been sealed off after your breakout."
"They figured out you were the one to help me escape?"
"Marco doesn't want to admit he trusted somebody who betrayed him. It's a much better tale to say the woman he lured happens to be one with superpowers who can kill with her bare hands. It makes all the guys think they're going to be the stud who takes you down once and for all."
"Guys are so sophomoric sometimes." She giggled. The sound seemed so contrary to what he'd seen of her so far, he stared to make sure he'd really heard it. And, yep, she had a big old smile on her face and even a hint of a twinkle in her eye.
Seconds later, she morphed quickly to the tough-as-nails persona once again. "Hmmm. While it seems a little bit crazy to ride in on motorcycles like some version of Hells Angels, I do have unfinished business with Marco. I need to know who he sold Caitlyn to. And, if I'm lucky, maybe make him sorry he was ever born."
"Oh no you don't." He grabbed her arm between the seats. "I need him to give me information about Trinity. He's the best lead I have so far." He was in enough trouble going off script. Now he needed to justify to the powers that be that he made the right decision.
"Just so you're clear, nothing is going to stop me from getting the information I need about Caitlyn Collins."
CHAPTER SEVEN
Kane glared at Sabrina in that intimidating way that cops did. Maybe he thought that would make her back down.
"Why? Getting Caitlyn wasn't sanctioned by The Alliance."
She shook her head. The fed information highway strikes again. "I'm trying to help the Collins family because it's the right thing to do. Just because The Alliance decided the mission was too risky to undertake doesn't mean I could say no."
Petrovich had his own little arsenal of young killers, starting with the KOS and later recruiting orphaned youth to his own personal army. He played God, deciding who he thought was worthy of living and dying, and sent the minions he trained to do his dirty work. Trinity's organization was doing the same thing, making a handsome profit preying upon innocent young women for sexual exploitation, had pushed more hot buttons than she cared to think about. But that was not her problem. She only had one objective. Caitlyn Collins.
"You've got some skills, so don't take this the wrong way, but if I hadn't gotten you out of there, you'd be another one of the statistics. Those guys would have been able to capture you and bring you to Marco."
"I've gotten out of much more difficult spots." Like when Max had nearly died. A twisting sensation in her gut wound her nerves a little tighter. Thinking and dwelling about Caitlyn's predicament, intertwined with her own up-close-and-personal experience, made the situation more urgent than ever. "The local police filed Caitlyn as a runaway. After a couple of hours on her computer I found the conversation with Marco he thought he'd remotely deleted, with the mention of Trinity Modeling as the lure. At that point, I couldn't say no, especially after seeing her parents cling to that one sliver of hope I was offering. They wanted their girl back, and I promised them I would do that for them."
"And once you make a promise, there's no turning back."
"Exactly. I'm going to find that bastard and string him up by his balls." The conviction steeled her nerves and brought a sense of calmness throughout her system.
"Where were you trained? You've got the Uzi down, and with your Krav Maga skills I'm guessing Israeli Army. Am I right?"
She felt the uptick in her pulse at his far-from-innocent questions. He didn't know about her past with Petrovich, and she'd just as soon keep it that way. "Let's say I've managed to acquire some skills in my life."
"A woman of mystery?" He shook his head even though she knew he wanted to probe further. "While I appreciate your need for vengeance, do not kill Marco. He may have information I need."
She brought her foot up onto the seat, relaxing back against the door. "Can I torture him just a little?"
He laughed and she glanced his way. Darn it, those dimples sprang to life and she felt this tiny flutter in the pit of her stomach. Girly thoughts were not her normal modus operandi. She enjoyed sex as much as the next person, but it was the emotional piece she didn't take kindly to.
"As long as he can tell me what I need, I'm okay with that."
"Now that we have a plan—such as it were"—she glanced at him and rolled her eyes—"and firepower, we need to get to Marco. How soon can you get the dirt bike?"
Despite the lack of sleep, a surge of adrenaline at the mere mention of progress made her ready to go full steam ahead.
"It's not quite so easy."
"Why did I have a feeling you were going to say that?"
"It's about timing. You're going to need a disguise."
She nodded her agreement. "My natural hair color is dark brown anyway. I dyed it to make myself look closer to twenty than thirty."
He glanced at her and smiled. "I'll get some hair dye at the next store we see. And a pair of scissors."
She held up her hand. "I'm far from a prima donna, and know guys don't care much about their hair, except when it's falling out, but a pair of scissors outside of a licensed professional is kind of scary for a female." She fingered through her shoulder-length locks.
"Big bad Sabrina Shaw afraid of a measly pair of scissors?" He winked. "No need to worry, I'm a wizard with a pair of scissors."
Sabrina rolled her eyes again. "And I'm sure when my hairdresser gets a look at your handiwork she'll probably faint on the spot."
He held his right hand across his chest. "Because I'm a guy you think I can't cut hair?"
The amusement in his tone didn't surprise her. It was the reaction running deep into her bones that made her body sit up and take notice. Somehow, and for some reason, this guy was different. And the only reason she had for that didn't sit well with her.
Not at all.
* * *
With night closing in, most of the sh
ops were closing or getting ready to by the time they walked into town. While Sabrina waited outside with an Uzi tucked in the duffle bag and his baseball hat covering her hair, he went inside the grocery store to get some water, food, hair dye, shampoo, and scissors.
He came out a few minutes later. "Let's find a spot where we can take care of this before we look for a place to eat."
They walked into the wooded area where he applied the hair dye and then rinsed it out with the water he purchased.
He snapped the scissors. "Allow Monsieur Kane to give you a fabulous cut."
She couldn't help but laugh, even though the sight before her was ominous. Trusting this man with her life was one thing, but her hair? "This does not seem to be a good idea."
"You're chicken."
"For good reason. You don't look as if you'd be good at this. In fact, you pretty much look all thumbs."
"Once again you insult me." He spoke with an exaggerated French accent and motioned with his hand. "I'll do such a great job you'll want me to cut your hair all the time. I guarantee it."
Without a mirror, she couldn't do this herself. "Oh, this is going to be ugly." She brought her head down and acquiesced.
Bringing a comb through her hair, he brought the scissors near the nape of her neck and snipped. She cringed. But that was only the beginning. It was an excruciating twenty minutes before he finished.
Hair touched the base of her neck, tickling her nape. Bringing her fingers through the waves and curls, she couldn't help but mourn the loss.
"Beautiful," he remarked.
"You have to say that. Otherwise I might take a knife to you," she grumbled.
"Don't think I wasn't feeling the pressure."
"Wait until I see a mirror, then I'll decide." She huffed out a breath, and drew her fingers through her hair once again. "Let's go back into town. We have to get the motorcycle. Which reminds me, how exactly are we going to do that?"
