Ky (In the Company of Snipers Book 13)

by Irish Winters

  “Excuse me?” She could’ve rung Sam’s neck. “Why would he be wired? He’s not FBI and—”

  “It’s okay.” Ky calmed her with just two words. “I’d be wondering the same thing if I was him. Go ahead. Join Chase. This won’t take long.”

  “No,” she argued. “There’s no way you’re wired. I would’ve seen. I mean my second sight would’ve seen if you were wired, too.”

  “That second sight of yours hasn’t been very reliable lately, has it?” He winked. “Go on. Give me five. I’ll be right out. Then we leave.”

  Eden shot Sam a dirty look, disgusted for the part he played in this—this, whatever it was. How dare he challenge Ky Winchester’s and Tate Higgins’ integrity? Who did he think he was? After all they’d done to protect her? Reluctantly, she obeyed. “You’ve got five minutes.”

  “Knock first,” Sam muttered. “You know, to make sure your boyfriend’s got his pants on.”

  Eden tossed the flap aside and climbed out of the tent. Tucker stood there on guard, his rifle snug against his chest. A wind had picked up again, kicking up snow and hitting her in the face. She stuffed her hair back into its fur cap and shivered into the weather. “No Tate yet?”

  “No Zaroyin, either,” he murmured, his eyes sharp on the tent, “but someone is out there. Step into the shadow with me. I can keep watch from there.” Cupping her elbow, he drew her to the far side of the fire pit. “You think we’re dirty dogs, don’t you?”

  “No, Tucker, I think this whole mess is insane. Cybernetic drones? GPS locators implanted into human beings, and now someone shoots my dead pilot to make it look like he wasn’t already dead? Why?” Even she could hear the hint of hysteria creeping into her voice.

  “So riddle me this.” Tucker turned on the charm, his gaze still fastened to the tent. “How do you and I know that Sam, or Ky for that matter, aren’t wiring each other up right now? How do we know they aren’t working with Zaroyin? Your psychic skillset isn’t working for shit. We can’t see what they’re doing, and they can’t see us. Who can you trust, Eden?”

  Who indeed. Truth was, she didn’t know what was going on with Sam and Ky. How could she? Her second sight had been spotty at best since the crash. Maybe before. She only knew that, except for his added bulk, Ky Winchester was essentially the same man she remembered from Afghanistan. Kind to his core. Too sympathetic for his own good.

  As much as he’d tried to fight it, her link with him had grown stronger. Mental, physical, or spiritual, it didn’t matter. Their connection had been forged in the fires of unspeakable misery. It was built on trust and loyalty that most married couples only dreamed of.

  She turned to meet Tucker’s steady gaze, never more sure of this one thing. “You’re right. I can’t see what Ky’s doing right now, but this is what I know, Agent Chase.”

  He stiffened at the formal title, an invisible barrier sprung up between them.

  “I love Ky Winchester, and he loves me,” Eden declared bravely, “and I don’t need second sight to know the truth. I never filed what happened two and a half years ago on any report, so you don’t know what I know. Let’s just say that Ky and I went through heck together. Me? I had the privilege of standing at his side during the hardest time in his life, and what was undoubtedly one of the bleakest in mine. I couldn’t physically help him, and it gutted me, but I was right where I was meant to be.”

  She drew in a calming breath of icy-cold confidence. “You see, it wasn’t me two and a half years ago. It was him. He reached out to me from Afghanistan, not the other way around. I don’t know how this crazy psychic gift works, but I do know that when his spirit searched the universe for someone to strengthen him, he chose me. He did the hard work. He wanted to live, Tucker. I only stood by him during his hours of greatest need.”

  Tucker’s eyes softened. “I didn’t mean to—”

  “No, you have every right to ask. You’re FBI and you’re a real agent. That’s what you guys do. You interrogate. You make crazy assumptions and you bully people, but understand this. I won’t be bullied where Ky is concerned. There’s no way to quantify what he and I have. Pull us apart or bury us alive on two different continents. Send us to opposite ends of the Earth never to see each other again. It doesn’t matter what you do to us or where we go, I will always find a way back to him, and he will always find me. That man in the tent over there?” She nodded at the wind-whipped tent flap slapping up and down against the pale-blue nylon fabric. “He doesn’t just own my heart. He is my heart.”

  “You sound like Melissa,” Tucker said quietly.

  “Melissa?”

  “Yeah. Melissa McCormack. I met her on that op in Northern California. Thought I stood a chance. Thought I could show her what it’s like to have a real man in her life. She’s been through so much. Lost her young husband to war injuries, only she can’t seem to let him go. Doesn’t matter what I do or say, she’s still in love with Brady McCormack, and me? I’m still the guy she doesn’t see.”

  Eden drew in a deep breath. Tucker was all male—all brawn and too much testosterone. The kind of guy who never planned to get in touch with his feminine side because, well, he might not have one. Other than the flaming red Challenger he drove like a maniac to work, she hadn’t known much about his personal life until now. “It sounds to me like she already had a real man in her life, Tucker. Maybe you need to acknowledge the love she had for her husband instead of trying to replace him.”

  Tucker growled. “How the hell do I do that? The kid was a goddamned war hero. Shit, Stewart’s the jarhead who saved his life. Doesn’t it figure? I’m the asshole who can’t do anything right, and I’m stuck between two gods who can’t do anything wrong.”

  She scrunched her shoulders. “I don’t know, Tuck, but it sounds like you care a lot about Melissa.”

  He dipped his head. “I do. She’s the real deal. Just wish she’d see me once in a while. Wish she’d stop going to the son-of-a-bitchin’ cemetery every damned day. Hell, she talks to the honor guards at Arlington more than me.”

  Eden hadn’t a clue how to solve Tucker’s problem, but she tried anyway. “Then don’t ignore what Brady meant to Melissa. Listen to her when she talks about him. Heck, ask questions. Honor his life. Like it or not, he’s still a part of her. You might as well acknowledge her feelings. She needs that validation. She needs to know that you see her, too. All of her.”

  Tucker grunted. “If I have a life with her. Right now, she’s...” He snapped his mouth shut as if he’d said too much. “Never mind, Stark. I’ll work it out.”

  Eden couldn’t help herself. She reached for the wrist of the man so obviously in pain. “I’m sorry. I’m—”

  The second she touched him, the vision snapped over her. A platinum blonde woman with too much makeup. Red, red lipstick. Humongous boobs and ample cleavage. Skinny waist. Dark, dark eyes. Definitely not Melissa. This woman’s name was Nicole, and she hated Tucker. Vicious words spoken in heated anger. The red sting of five fingers on Tucker’s scruffy cheek. His hands clenched tight into knotted fists. A wall of restraint on his part. A wave of ice-cold disgust on hers. Between them stood a frail little boy with Tucker’s deep blue eyes and a violin in his shaking hand. The saddest word pierced Eden’s second sight with a shrill, “Daddy!”

  She dropped to her hands and knees in the snow, her strength sapped. Darn. Each vision took more out of her, this one in particular. She’d not only seen this time, but she’d felt the abysmal longing in this man’s heart for the son lost to him.

  Tucker dropped to her side, his rifle slung over his shoulder, his hand in the center of her back. “What the hell happened?”

  So that was it. She lifted her head to meet his worried gaze. “You’ve lost custody of your son, haven’t you? Your ex-wife won’t let you see him, will she?”

  His brows narrowed. A shadow of sadness clouded his angry blues. “No, I... She left and I... damn it. You know everything, don’t you? I can’t lie to you, can I?”

>   Eden shook her head as he lifted her to her feet and pulled her under his arm. “Not everything, Tucker—just that your heart’s wrecked over the loss of your son. That you believe Nicole did it to hurt you. That you love him so much it’s killing you. What’d she do? Move out of state with him?”

  “Shit. The bitch took my little guy to Vietnam on business. Never came back.”

  “Let me guess. Vietnam has no extradition treaty with the United States?”

  Tucker nodded glumly. “That and her boyfriend owns a string of textile factories there, but I still deposit a child- support check to her bank account every month. I’m trying to take care of him as best I can. I know she’s spending it. God…” He sucked in a deep breath. “I’d give her everything I owned if it made a lick of difference. I just want to see my kid.”

  “What’s his name?”

  “She calls him Devlin. I call him Deuce.”

  Eden sobered. “You ought to hire Alex. He’d get Deuce back.”

  “Don’t think I haven’t thought about it.”

  “Suck up your pride, Tucker. Do it.”

  He eased her away to look down into her eyes. “Stop looking through me, Eden. Knock it off. I’ll get my kid back in my own way and in my own time.”

  “Good. I’d like to meet Devlin,” was all she said, but she had to smile. It didn’t take a psychic to see through all that bluster, to know that this tough guy planned to contact Alex Stewart the second he got back to the States.

  “You satisfied now?” Ky asked as he stepped back into his TEAMwear trousers and pulled them up over his cold ass hiding his scars as quickly as he could.

  “Sorry, son. I had to be sure. Let’s get out of here.”

  “Not so fast. It’s your turn. Take ’em off.”

  “Excuse me?” Becker bristled. “I don’t think that’s necessary.”

  “Why not? You don’t think I’ve got suspicions about you and Chase?”

  Becker’s lips turned into an upside-down smile. “Guess you’re right. You already know I’m not wearing a wire. How about I just let you check my scalp for that spider-thing? That way I don’t have to undress and freeze my—”

  “How about you drop your pants and let me be the judge of whether you’re wearing a wire or not? For all you know, someone could’ve taped one up the crack of your ass. You could be sending signals off the top of your bushy head and not know it. Now drop ’em.”

  Becker groused and grumbled, but undressed as quickly as Ky had. Neither man appreciated seeing the other’s naked body, so visual inspections were fast and brief. Before Ky had himself tucked back into his jacket, Becker was pulling his pants up and his layers of shirts down.

  “Crap, it’s freezing,” he muttered, fumbling with the snaps on his pants. “So how’d you and Eden meet? You work an op together?”

  Ky shook his head, “Not exactly.” Becker didn’t fool Ky. He was trolling for info.

  “College? Neighbors?”

  “What’s it matter? Let’s move out.”

  Becker shrugged into his heavy fur-lined jacket. “I don’t guess it does. Just seems the more I know about a guy, the easier he is to trust.”

  Talking about those days never ended well. Ky gulped, but supplied the missing cipher. “She came to me during a particularly bad time in Afghanistan.”

  “Torture?” Becker asked quietly, his hand warm and steady on Ky’s shoulder. “That’s why the scars. I’m sorry, son. How long? Where?”

  “Five days. Just outside Kabul.” Hell, everywhere. My back. My face. Down—there.

  “Ahh. Our little psychic wonder picked up a signal from you, didn’t she? What’d she do? Make one of your wardens drop dead so you could escape?”

  Ky shook his head. “No. She’s not like that. She just... she just stayed with me until the end. There was no way I could’ve escaped, not after they...” He swallowed hard, the damned tent suddenly stuffy as hell. “And then Lee Hart showed up and—”

  “The same Lee Hart who works for Alex? No shit?”

  “Yeah. He was stuck inside one of Nizari’s cells, too. She sent him some kind of mental message. That’s, umm, all.” Ky blew out a deep breath, needing this confession to end.

  Becker’s grip tightened. “No wonder Stewart relies on you like he does. I’m damned proud to know you, son.”

  “Why do you keep calling me that?” Ky had to know. “I’ve got a good father. I don’t need another.” Not that Ky considered Becker father material.

  “You’re right,” Becker said, “but I’m the oldest agent on this screwed-up op, and it’s my job to make sure the rest of you make it home in one piece. Guess it’s an old habit I picked up on Team Three. I’ll knock it off. Let’s get the hell out of here.”

  The wind set to howling and rattling the pine boughs over the tent. Ky slung his gear bag and his rifle over one shoulder, intent on getting Eden to safety. He slid his goggles over his head. One last time, he reached out to Tate. “Comm check. Testing. One. Two. Three.”

  “Hang on. I’ll save you,” Tate muttered in his earpiece.

  “Say again?” Ky requested, not sure what that last communication meant.

  Damned if a knife blade didn’t pierce the far side of the tent. Just as fast, a big gloved hand reached in and jerked Ky off his feet and into the storm. He struggled, punching the arm that held him even as he slid downhill. Snow covered his face, the same hand closed over his mouth.

  “Shut up,” Tate hissed in his ear. “They’re here, Ky. Zaroyin’s men. Lots of them.”

  “Eden,” Ky growled. “Where’s Eden? Hell, where are Becker and Chase?”

  Tate jerked Ky’s face into his. God, the man had eyebrows from hell. “I don’t know. I’m just glad you’re the one I grabbed. Now shut up. Zaroyin’s men are everywhere.” He shoved Ky into the snow-well drifted around a big tree trunk. “It took me an hour to get back here without being seen.”

  Lanterns flashed. Several men tramped through the snow alongside their hiding place.

  “How many?” Ky asked.

  “Shit. I don’t know. Maybe fifty.”

  “I have to get to her. Becker and Chase, too. If it is Zaroyin’s—”

  “Trust me. It’s them.” The big guy turned his back on Ky as if he’d never been missing. Like Ky still trusted him.

  Ky wasn’t so sure. “Tate. What have you done?”

  Tate leaned onto one side and faced Ky. “What else? I ditched those GPS locators we took off your girlfriend and those first two guys. It was a mistake keeping them as long as we did.”

  A bright light flashed uphill, illuminating the tent. It glowed with the exception of the two shadows struggling inside. The bigger guy got in a good punch. The other man flew backward while the big guy dived out the same slit Tate had pulled Ky through.

  “Becker,” Ky called.

  “Shut up!” Tate snapped. “You’re going to get us killed.” But it was Becker, and Tate did help pull the FBI agent under the same tree and into the shadow of the tree well.

  Men ran through the camp that had once been a safe haven from the storm. The beam of the lantern in the tent flashed this way and that. Some guy bellowed, “Find them!”

  “Holy shit,” Becker hissed, his hair a mess, his nose bloodied, and his eyes wide. “Where have you been, Higgins?”

  “Out,” Tate grunted, an oddly comforting sound amongst the chaos.

  “I have to get to Eden,” Ky growled, ready to go back into the storm. “Get out of my—”

  “She’s gone,” Tate shot back at him, his hand clamped on Ky’s wrist. “Trust me. Chase has her. She was fighting him plenty, but he got her out of there in time. We’re the ones you need to worry about.”

  Some idiot back at camp lit the pine-covered tent on fire. Black smoke billowed up from the short burst of bright orange flames.

  “Shit. My gear was in there,” Becker hissed.

  A sickening sensation slithered up the back of Ky’s neck. They had another problem.r />
  “Where are the Omni 9000s, Tate?”

  Chapter Twenty

  Eden would’ve screamed when all those storm troopers charged into camp if Tucker hadn’t clamped his big paw over her mouth and dragged her into the shadows. He kept retreating and dragging. She kept stumbling to keep up with him. Still he wouldn’t release her, not until she heard rifle-fire through the trees. Not until she saw the snow-laden sky in the east glow orange. By then, the deep, dark forest lay between Eden and Ky. And her pounding heart.

  Tucker dropped his hand from her mouth. “Don’t scream, and for God’s sake, don’t call out for Ky.”

  She turned on her FBI buddy, elbows flying and ready to fight. “What the heck are you doing? We have to go back. We can’t just leave them.”

  “It’s too late. Zaroyin’s men are already there. A little warning would’ve been nice, Eden. I thought you were good at that kind of psychic stuff?”

  “I was. I am. I mean...” She couldn’t take her eyes off the glow to the east. That tent and Ky were her safe places. Pressing her fingertips to her temples, she couldn’t sense him. No blue aura. No black smudges, either. Nothing. Even the link with Ky felt—off. Muffled. Her heart kicked up a notch. Was he dead? “Ever since the crash, my sight hasn’t been reliable. I have to go back.”

  Tucker grabbed her wrist and pulled her in the opposite direction, his rifle ready in his fist. “No way. Sam will take care of Ky. We keep moving.”

  She jerked out of his grasp and stabbed one finger eastward. “How can you say that? How can you just walk off and leave...”? It all came back to her. Tucker’s question. Who can you trust, Eden? Sure as heck not him.

  “What going on here, Chase? You and Sam show up out of nowhere. Suddenly, Tate Higgins is one of your suspects, and Sam’s making Ky prove he’s not wired. The body Tate hung up in the trees is back on the ground.” She stomped one booted foot. “I am so dumb. You set this up, you and Sam, didn’t you? You wanted to get me away from Ky and—”

  “For Christ’s sake, Eden, knock it off. Think about what you’re saying. Why would Sam and I lie to you? When did we have time to stage what you just saw back there?”