“I am now,” Tate grumbled, but reloaded a single Diazepam dart into his modified pistol. That was the only drawback. There was no magazine designed to preload tranq darts. Each had to be chambered by hand, one at a time. Once they started shooting, reloading would require speed and luck.
“What if the dose is wrong?” Tate asked. “You might kill ’em just the same.”
“I’m more worried if it’s not enough. Either way, it gives them a chance. On my count,” Ky whispered. “One. Two. Three.”
Z-z-z-zip! The first two drones never saw what hit them. They folded to the ground and let loose of their smart guns. Ky scrambled to his feet and crept toward the side door, his rifle up and ready for close-quarters warfare. Tranqing an unsuspecting target might work under perfect conditions, but he couldn’t take the chance if he was the one surprised.
He crouched to make sure both guards were alive. Their pulses were slow and steady. Good enough. He shouldered his rifle, then he and Tate positioned the drones against the home to make it look as if they’d simply fallen asleep. It might buy a few extra seconds.
For a split second, Ky deliberated over taking out the rest of the drones the same way. It would slow Levine’s security response time down to nil. It would also cause confusion, and might direct some of the danger from Sam and his son. But it could also create suspicion, maybe chaos or a total lockdown. Where would that leave Eden?
A loud pop sounded from the east. Ky reached out to Tucker. “What was that?”
“Not sure. I’m on it.”
Ky tried the side door, anxious with that one unidentified variable now thrown into the mix of what had always been a suicide op.
Of course, the door opened with ease. Why lock any doors when killer drones were on patrol? Ky angled inside. Tate followed and silently shut them in.
The open staircase to the second level lay beyond. Ky led the way. The place shouted wealth. Mother-of-pearl insets decorated the beige-tiled floor, if that was what you wanted to call the tiny pieces of individually cut tiles that comprised an elegant version of Poseidon, or some other Greek water god, amidst a flurry of turquoise and gold waves. Hell, it could be a Roman god for all Ky knew, but holy shit. Who paid for this kind of stuff just to walk on it?
Once he reached the open entryway, itself as big as the entire ground floor of Ky’s home in Silver Spring, the rules changed. They were exposed, out in the open. Ky didn’t have time for second-guessing or those tranqs. He wasn’t God, and he wouldn’t sacrifice Eden’s life to save another. Any staff that intercepted him, if armed, would go down hard. Cold-hearted rules to live by, but he was one of those hard men.
Satisfied no hostiles were in the immediate area, he took the steps two at a time. At the second level, Levine could be heard from the open door at his left. “You heard what I said. We’re leaving now!”
Eden’s room. Now or never. Ky pressed his rifle to his shoulder and palmed the door wider.
God, no.
She stood there with Levine’s arm around her neck, her face blanched white and his cheek next to hers. The gun barrel Levine pressed under her chin stopped Ky’s heart, but Tucker’s panicked voice in his ear shot all plans to hell. “Man down!”
Chapter Thirty-Eight
“Winchester. Higgins.” Levine’s sarcastic greeting curled Eden’s blood. “I should’ve known you two would show up. Where’s Stewart? The rest of his TEAM? Or did he just send you?”
Eden followed while Levine dragged her past Ky to the staircase Tate grunted ominously, and Eden was never so happy to hear his disgust, but Ky? Amber death radiated from him to Levine. If looks could kill...
“Let her go,” he ground out, his short-stock rifle poised on target.
The entry below filled with drones. Laser dots danced over Ky’s chest.
“Please don’t Ky,” she warned. “He will kill you. I know he will.”
“Listen to your girlfriend, Marine,” Levine ordered as he pushed her down, step by step, “or she dies first.”
Sideways, she descended, her gaze transfixed on Ky’s angry, rugged face as her only hope transformed to despair. His chest heaved. His Adam’s apple gulped with their awful predicament, but there was nothing to be done. Levine held all the power.
“Why the mines?” Ky demanded, following closely, his weapon tucked in tight.
“Just be thankful I let her live,” Levine purred. “Keep moving, Stark, or I’ll change my mind, and your boyfriend ends up in Arlington.”
The FBI drones shifted at that implication, and Eden was scared. Someone had turned off the air-conditioning, and in the brutal African heat, the lavish home was instantly stifled. Every breath suffocated.
Ky stood less than five steps up from Levine, his weapon still on target and her life pitted against his. His eyes gleamed with his rage. Beads of sweat trickled down his temple and brow. The drones would kill him, but she knew he would die before he let Levine hurt her.
There was no other way.
He meant to save her.
She meant to save him.
It had to end. She did what she’d seen Ky do all those months ago in the frigid north. She summoned the sweet moment she’d spent with him. She rolled her shoulders, she closed her eyes and...
She let go.
The east door burst open in a hail of gunfire and one angry son-of-a-bitch. Thank God for Tucker. But his bullets sprayed wide. The first to die slipped out of Levine’s grasp and tumbled down the staircase. Eden!
“No!” With a panicked “Get the hell out of my way!” Ky shot the stunned kidnapper. Levine dropped dead down the steps, landing between Ky and Eden’s body. The ensuing gunfight reverberated in that enclosed space, but goddamnit! Ky had never been more shocked. Tucker had just shot Eden!
Ky stumbled over Levine’s body on his way down the steps. He couldn’t get to his woman fast enough. Skidding on his knees at ground level, he choked when he gathered her blood-spattered body into his arms and cradled her ashen face. “Baby. God, no.”
“Ky. I'm okay,” she murmured, opening her scared green eyes. “You’re alive.”
I’m alive? She had it backwards. Hunching over her, he sheltered her, willing to take whatever bullets came her way, ready to protect her to the death. “I love you,” he ground out, his voice harsh and ragged, wrecked beyond belief. So damned found. So damned saved. But in so much danger.
She clung to him, sobbing, and he could’ve held her forever if not for the war zone they were caught in. When the racket finally eased off, Ky peered sideways to survey the carnage, shielding her from the gruesome scene. She didn’t need to see it.
The Omni 9000s had done their job, but surprisingly, Tucker and Sam were still on their feet, their faces grim. Many of the black-garbed security guards lay dead or mortally-wounded on that pristinely tiled floor, although several sported darts in their chest or arms. Ky shot a grateful glance up to Tate, still positioned topside. The damned guy shrugged like those darts were no big deal, but they were. Eden would be proud of him.
Ky smuggled her out the patio door and away from Levine’s version of the future. She sobbed into his chest, and she was plenty scared, but not broken. He knew better. This was her first firefight, but Eden was strong, maybe stronger than him. He let her cry until she squeaked out a muffled, “I love you so much.”
He sank to the far side of the crystal blue pool. The poor pool guy and gardeners stood there with their hands raised, but Ky waved them off. They beat feet out of there like he knew they would.
It was odd the difference one woman could make in a guy’s life—how now that Eden was safe, Ky felt like a man again. Like he could take on the friggin’ world and win. Content for the first time in months, he took a deep breath to steady himself. He pressed a fervent kiss to the top of her sweaty head and just held her tight. A whisper of the breeze off the ocean cooled his brow. It brought the wild, fresh air into his lungs, a nice change from the rank odors that now filled Levine’s mansion.
“He what, baby?” Ky soothed her shattered nerves as much as he could. Tipping her chin up with his index finger, he blessed her with a hello kiss that quickly morphed into a God-I-can’t-live-without-you branding. Breathless and so damned grateful that Tucker hadn’t shot her like he’d first thought, Ky pressed her under his chin. “Breathe, baby. Slow and easy. I’ve got you.”
Eden nodded against him, her voice stronger. “I think I’m full of those hormones again, and I’m positive she’s at the mine.”
“She who?”
“Cassandra Bick.”
“Her again?” Ky chuckled drily. “She’s supposed to be in jail, but I’ll contact Alex to see what he knows. You’ll be proud of Tate. He didn’t kill anyone. He used tranquilizer darts instead of bullets.”
“He what?”
Ky peered over her sweaty head at the mansion. He would’ve laughed at her surprise, but Tate and Tucker were still securing the bloody battle scene. Not Sam, though, and Ky had yet to spy LS since Tucker’s ‘man down’ alarm. A double-shot of acid dumped into his gut. Not Sammy, he prayed to the Lord above. Please, not Sam’s boy.
“Hey, I need to go back inside for a couple minutes,” Ky murmured. He wrapped Eden’s fingers around his still warm pistol. “Keep this and use it if you need to. I’ll be right back.”
“Oh no, you don’t,” she muttered, sounding more like herself. “You’re not leaving me.”
“It’s Sam,” Ky admitted so she’d know what to expect. “Levine might’ve hurt his son.”
“Sam has a son?”
“You’ll see.” He tugged her to her feet, and together they circled the home, now deserted of guards. “Sam?” Ky called out as they approached the east entry. “Everything okay, man?”
“Here,” came the gruff reply. There knelt Sam on the front steps of the building alongside a bloodied LS, who looked a little gray. “The bastard shot my boy.”
Surprisingly, Eden dropped to her knees alongside LS. “It’s you. What are you doing here? You’re Sam’s son?”
“Hello, pretty lady. It is nice to see you again.” LS grinned. “He is my daddy.”
“Yeah, well, your mama’s going to feed me to the lions for letting this happen,” Sam grumbled as he tied the makeshift sling around his son’s neck. “I’ll never hear the end of this.”
“What happened?” Ky asked.
“I really didn’t think Levine would recognize me,” Sam admitted. “I’d left the Bureau before he came aboard. We never worked together, but shit. He took one look at me and fired on Sammy.”
A weary Tucker and a grim Tate exited the estate of one despicable and very dead Cameron Levine.
“We’re not finished yet. Someone’s waiting for us at the mine,” Ky told them in no uncertain terms.
Eden had a full head of steam by the time the chopper with Sam and LS flew to Freetown to face the wrath of Mama Chappy. Worse, she’d channeled Tucker again.
The local authorities had been notified. An army of ambulances had already arrived at Levine’s estate. The medical examiner, too. Director Strong and Alex Stewart were on what had to be an uncomfortable conference call with the President of the United States and the President of Sierra Leone, but hey. That was what they made the big bucks for.
Eden was headed east in a second chopper with Ky and Tate. Tucker piloted the craft while Ky sat with her on the bench. By then, Tate had gotten word from the Alexandria office that both Zaroyins were alive. Isaiah, still recovering from torture at the Bicks’ hands, rested comfortably at a well-guarded military hospital in Maryland, while his father awaited due process while under FBI custody. The President of Liberia had been warned about the assassination attempt and was secured inside his palace. Alex had Drake Franklin stashed at one of The TEAM’s safe houses, and finally, all known drones were neutralized and accounted for.
Honorably, Ky had assured Alex he’d bring Senator Bick’s wife in alive. Too bad Eden had made no such promise. Today was no day for honor or mercy. Only comeuppance. Only one hundred percent surety that no future child would suffer one second of Cassandra Bick’s evil parentage.
Mrs. Bick should have been in jail, not let loose on her own recognizance to flee the country at the first chance she got. It had taken her two months to connive her way into that plea bargain, but once she did, she’d come straight to her buddy, Agent Levine.
Ky’s wide palm resting intimately on Eden’s thigh should’ve soothed her after the hellish day she’d just lived through, but her heart was on all those unborn children the Bicks had been so eager to exploit. The ones she had no doubt Cassie still planned on stealing. Every last one of those innocent babies conceived through in-vitro fertilization would’ve been her sons and daughters. An uncommon warmth flooded her heart at the emotional predicament she found herself in, caring for children she hadn’t yet given birth to.
She rubbed her abdomen, thinking of all those tiny fingers and toes. Giggles. Boo boos. Pinks. Blues. Bedtime stories. First words and first steps. That first tooth. Baby powder. Diapers. All of those wonderfully delicious baby things.
Why she’d become so emotional over children that weren’t alive yet was a phenomenon she couldn’t explain, but she was. Her heart had become increasingly tender these last three months. She could cry at the drop of a pin. What was that all about?
Isaiah might have been a level-ten psychic, but there was no way she loved him. Yes, he was kind and handsome enough. He just wasn’t the man she wanted to have those future babies with. She glanced sideways at Ky. Until then, motherhood hadn’t been a blip on her radar, but now...
There sat the man who would father her children. He looked fierce, his spine ramrod stiff, his jaw jutted forward, tense with the upcoming confrontation, and so darned handsome she wanted to climb onto his lap and eat him up. This man who’d come to her damaged, who’d once hated human contact, now radiated authority and a powerful energy. His passive aura flared with bright red amidst the crystal blue. Ky Winchester was not only back in the game, but he was in it to win it.
She shivered, astonished at her body’s reaction to his. Every aching part of her salivated at the sight of him. Her thighs clenched in feral anticipation of getting him alone and ripping his clothes off. Yeah. There she was, tenderhearted and hormonally charged to the hilt. Horny as heck and needing her man to take care of her needs. All of them.
Darned if he didn’t respond as if he’d just read her mind. Very deliberately, he turned to her and lifted his dark glasses. He winked. That devilish, lazy smile flickered across his lips. And she was his. Heart. Mind. Body and soul.
Eden took a deep breath of her brand new extended warranty on life and faced forward toward Kenema. She could hardly wait. Ky was so getting his when she got him all to herself.
Before long, the chopper’s skids bumped down to the dusty landing pad at Levine’s diamond mine, and there she was. The depraved rich bitch. Stealer of other women’s unborn babies. The blackest heart of all. Cassandra friggin’ Bick.
Dressed to the nines in a lovely cream-colored safari get-up. Long black hair. Comfortable boots. Her hands on her hips. A wide-brimmed hat on her head, no doubt sheltering her painted-on brows behind those dark sunglasses and...
Oh snap, kill me now. I look just like her. He tried to make me—her. Cassandra and Cameron had planned for this meeting. Worse. They’d planned to replace Eden with—her.
Eden cast her gaze past the maniac on the landing pad to the clean white building behind her. The one beside the industrial-sized generators. The one with the tanker labeled ‘Danger—Nitrogen’ parked alongside. The dastardly game that Senator Bick and his wife had started was still in play, only the characters had changed. Levine and Cassandra had teamed up, and Eden had no doubt that there was another level-ten psychic in restraints in that building. A male. They still meant to kill Eden and steal every last one of her future babies.
Tate
dropped out of the chopper first, his weapon tight to his chest. Tucker did the same. Both were on guard, and both waiting on Eden and Ky. But Mrs. Bick must not have gotten word Levine was on his way to the morgue. She’d met the chopper without so much as a chauffeur to back her up. Her proud chin tilted in greeting. She waved and smiled those perfect red lips, offering a regal queen-of-the-parade wave.
A funny red blur tinged Eden’s vision. All of her five senses honed in on the maniac dressed for a safari.
Call it rage. Call it insanity. The FBI’s secret weapon came unglued. Eden pushed out of the chopper and hit the ground running. Ky had thoughtfully supplied her with a holster and pistol before lift-off. Eden nailed that prissy hat with her first shot.
Darned if Mrs. Bick didn’t look surprised to see her. She went down on her knees in shock, but not enough awe, shrieking, “Kill them!”
Guess again. Tucker and Tate weren’t Levine’s drones, and they sure as heck weren’t implanted with any mind-control shit.
Eden fired again. A lovely red blossom sprouted out of the evil queen’s left shoulder. Then her right, and Eden was more than a little surprised she’d actually hit her target all three times, but still, the woman—Would. Not. Die.
“I should’ve killed you in Boston,” the missus had the nerve to hiss even as she tilted to the left, one hand to her shoulder.
Eden walked straight up to her, the business end of her pistol now dead center between those haughty, painted-on brows.
But by then, Ky had come up quietly on her right, the perfect position for an avenging angel. Eden gloried in his calm presence. “It’s not self-defense, Eden,” he declared without a hint of self-righteousness in his tone. “She’s not armed, and she’s got no back-up to save her scrawny ass. Look around. This mine’s deserted.”
Eden grunted. “You look around, Ky. See the nitro? Why don’t you ask Tate to go check inside that medical facility? Ten-to-one she’s got another poor level-ten strapped to an autopsy table in there. Ten to one she’s got a cryo-lab set up and waiting on my death.” Ten to one she’s not going to live the day.
Ky (In the Company of Snipers Book 13) Page 36
