“My Buttercup,” he breathed.
“Don’t you mean your Indian Buttercup?”
She’d worn her hair down, like a silken black waterfall. He tucked back a strand behind her ear.
“You’re being too literal. I fell in love with Buttercup when I was seven years old and my aunts took me to see the movie. I fell in love with her because she was the one who waited for Westley, because she was his destiny. She was his one true love. Even then, I knew that was what I wanted. It had nothing to do with the color of her hair.”
Her lips pursed and her eyes sparkled. “But I’m thinking you might like that she and I both have long hair.”
“Careful, your genius is showing.” He gripped her long hair in his fist and slammed his mouth down on hers. This was no slow seduction, it was a storm of liquid fire, and Riya grabbed for his shoulders or she would have fallen. His lips didn’t soothe and tease, they forced hers open, demanding supplication, demanding a surrender she was only too happy to give.
The room whirled, and she felt her butt hit something hard. Riya realized she was sitting on the marble countertop, her legs splayed with Gray pressed hard against her core. He tasted different, like his kiss was flavored by a compulsion. She pushed at his chest.
“Gray,” she panted.
He pressed his lips against her temple.
“Listen to me,” she continued. “It’s going to be fine. You’re going to take down those bogeys or targets or tangos or assholes or whatever you want to call them. You’re going to take them out, and we will go home and everything will be fine.”
He lifted his head, their eyes mere inches apart.
“You believe that, don’t you?” Their breath mingled.
“Absolutely. Because I believe in you. I might not know all of your team really well, but I know you’re leading them, so you’re going to make this work. You’re going to save everybody.”
“Is that what you want?” he asked with a rakish grin.
“Yes.” She thumped her fist on his chest.
“As you wish.”
* * *
Wyatt had done good reserving the most expensive suite in the hotel. The HVAC room that controlled all of the heating and air conditioning for the entire hotel was also located on this floor.
Gray looked at his watch, then over his shoulder at Wyatt, who was staying in the room to monitor everything. “We good to go?”
“Three, two, one. Now.” Wyatt gave Gray and Dex the go signal. The two of them left the hotel suite and turned left down the hallway that was no longer under surveillance. At the end of hallway was an innocuous door, and Dex took out his Smartphone. He flashed it in front of the key card pad for the door. It flashed red for three minutes, until it finally went green.
Dex grinned like a proud parent.
“What the fuck?” Gray stared at Dex in amazement.
“I calibrated it on the Palace Suite door lock. Once I had that dialed in, it was easy enough to tweak it.”
“Easy my ass.” Gray whispered as he opened the door. He was surrounded by bloody geniuses.
Both of them were dressed in cargo pants, black t-shirts and lightweight nylon jackets. They each carried canvass bags containing heavy weapons. Under their coats they had their Sig Sauers and knives. Their mic and receiver were the only outward indication that they might be more than they seemed, but those were fairly unobtrusive.
There had been no schematics for the interior of the HVAC room, so they were playing it by ear. As soon as they entered, Dex called out a greeting in Arabic, then again in English. They were greeted by silence. Still, they carefully swept through the room. The awards ceremony was due to start in forty-five minutes.
“Clear,” Gray said.
“My side, too,” Dex said as he met Gray in front of the cooling tower.
They both looked at their watches at the same time. “Get your ass moving,” Dex said to Gray. “I’ve got it covered in here.”
Gray did another quick sweep of the room and saw that there were emergency lights. He went over to the wall and turned off the lights so they were bathed in just the low red light.
“Good thinking,” Dex grinned.
“That’s why they pay me five dollars more a month,” Gray clapped Dex on his shoulder. “Stay sharp.”
He picked up his bag and left. Now it was time for a trip with Dalton.
* * *
It was just Dalton, Aiden, Riya and Wyatt left in the room. Riya was in her blue protective suit. It made his gut clench.
“Is that really necessary?”
She still wasn’t wearing the helmet, so he could see her clearly when she cocked an eyebrow.
“Gray, you suit up when you go on a mission, don’t you?” she asked reasonably.
Behind her he saw Wyatt making a cutting motion along his throat. How sad is it that Wyatt of all people is giving me advice on how to handle Riya?
“You’re right Honey, it’s best that you be ready,” he touched the end of her nose and gave her the best smile he could.
He looked over at Wyatt and Dalton. “Did Griff and Hunter get off okay? They’re quiet.”
“That’s because they’re not where you think they are,” Wyatt said abruptly.
Gray looked at him sharply. “What are you talking about? They’re supposed to be down a floor at the air handler.”
“Dalton can go there,” Wyatt said. “Just in case the Saudis have the wrong data too. But here’s the deal. The annex building with the ballroom was built before the hotel, it’s one big atrium with a two HVAC units on the roof. That’s where the toxin needs to be delivered, not from where Dex is or where Dalton’s going to go.”
“How did we—” Gray stopped himself. This was not the time to shoulda woulda. Now was the time to come up with a new plan.
“So you’ve got Griff and Hunter deployed to the roof?”
“Yep.”
“Gray, I have Dex’s magic app on my phone. He says it’ll work on the stairs, and the room with the air handler. I’m going there now,” Dalton said. He stood at the door waiting for Gray’s agreement.
“Go.” Gray nodded.
This is not what he wanted. Griff and Hunter had dark hair and had been in suits, they were supposed to go with Aiden and mingle at the awards ceremony. Then, as if Wyatt read his mind he pointed to a neatly-folded suit on the couch. Hell, they’d even brought large leather computer bags to put the modified oxygen tanks in, so they wouldn’t look too out of place.
“Hunter left that for you,” Wyatt said.
“I’m betting it was Riya who folded it,” Gray sighed. He pulled off his t-shirt and threw it on the floor as he picked up the clothes. He picked up the dress shoes and realized there wasn’t a chance in hell they would fit. Hunter could be a basketball player with feet this big. He tossed them aside and figured his boots were going to have to work.
He quickly got dressed.
“Report,” Gray said into his microphone.
“We’re on the roof,” Griff said. “Nobody’s here.”
“I still don’t have any visitors,” Dex said.
“Nobody here,” Dalton said.
“Wyatt, what’s the word from Midnight Delta and Night Storm?”
“Kane said that everything has been quiet at the fashion show, but that Leo has fallen in love twice since they got there.”
Gray gave Wyatt a dark look.
“Okay, no more side commentary.”
“Clint last reported in fifteen minutes ago. He said that Drake had seen something odd near the welcome tent at the conference. He hasn’t reported in since then,” Wyatt informed everyone on the communication line.
“Get ahold of Liam, I want info,” Gray bit out as he tied his tie.
Maybe, just maybe, this would be a big ole nothing burger. Gray looked over at Riya who was fiddling with a microscope, and prayed with every part of his being that Dubai was the target.
“Come on Aiden, let’s go.”
&nbs
p; 16
There were fourteen potential targets. The King of Jordan and his family, the Ambassador of Oman, the President of the World Bank, a Nobel Lauriat, the King of Bahrain, his second wife and two sons, or one of the three journalists who had broken the story about the atrocities in Yemen. The last three weren’t likely, since there were three of them, and all three had different genetic make-ups, but Langley thought that taking out any one of them might make the Saudis’ point. They were all up at the dais at the front of the of the ballroom.
What the hell, why not just shoot one of them?
Oh yeah, they get sick, then the Saudis aren’t responsible, Gray reminded himself.
Gray willed Wyatt to report something. Dex, Dalton, Griff and Hunter were still coming in with nothing, but please say that Mason had this. Any other time Gray would take on the mission and not be wishing it on another team, but another time he wouldn’t have Riya in a room upstairs.
“Champagne?” a waiter asked as he walked by.
Gray shook his head. It was like he was in a James Bond movie.
Riya had explained that the gas would work best in an air conditioning vent because it would disperse the toxin throughout the space, like it had in Las Vegas. But here on the floor of the venue, it would need to be put nearer to the targets. Gray saw Aiden’s blond hair moving closer to the front of the room. Thank God Abu Dhabi was such an eclectic city and blondes weren’t that out of place, otherwise he and Aiden would be screwed. That was the reason Griff and Hunter were supposed to have been on this duty, they both had dark hair.
“They’ve got a shooter,” Wyatt came in loud and clear through Gray’s receiver. “Mason says they don’t think he has anything to do with the potential Saudi plot, it was a lone terrorist.”
Gray didn’t have to ask his men if they heard, he knew they would all be on high alert.
“There!” Hunter shouted.
Aiden turned and looked at Gray, then he started meandering through the crowd as if he wasn’t listening intently to his receiver.
Gray could hear a loud grunting. No gunfire, but the sound of fists on flesh was clear. Then there was the sound of metal hitting metal.
Was it the canister hitting the HVAC unit?
“Catch it!” Griff cried out.
A man yelled curse words in Arabic.
Gray started to walk quickly to the exit, when a voice came over the loudspeaker. “Is there a physician in the house?”
He turned his head and saw that the King of Jordan was leaning over his son who was slumped over the table. The King was clearly gasping for air. Gray couldn’t see the wife or young daughter. Had they slipped under the table? The prince was being held up by one of the reporters.
Ah, fuck.
“We got it, Gray. We got the canister before it was deployed.” Hunter said. “We’re taking it to the suite.”
“Aiden, find the other one,” Gray said into his mic. “Find the empty one that was used on the Jordanians. Riya’s going to need it.”
“I’m on it.”
* * *
It was rare that she had to wear her ‘hot suit’, but when she did, she was fanatical about it. Wyatt, God bless him, had done a second inspection for any kind of leaks before she had suited up. They had also gone through the biocontainment lab. He had helped her try to make the portable tables rest as flat as possible on the uneven floor of the bathroom.
“I don’t understand why such an expensive room would have such a poorly constructed floor,” Riya complained.
Wyatt laughed. “Riya, I’m pretty sure this is travertine, it’s really expensive stone.”
“Well it’s silly. Look, the table rocks.”
Wyatt had put paper under the legs to steady the table. So when Hunter had said he was coming in with a canister, she was ready for it. She put on her helmet, and air-purifying respirator, then waited.
She saw Wyatt asking her something.
She crimped the hose on her air supply, because she couldn’t hear him over the hissing air. “What?”
“Riya, how well can you hear me?” Wyatt asked.
“I can now. What is it?”
“The Jordanian royal family has just been rushed to the hospital. They were the ones targeted. It makes sense that the Saudis would want them dead. Their two borders butt up to one another, and without the King or his heir, the Saudis could take over.”
That had been the worst case scenario in Riya’s mind. Not only did she personally like the King because he’d married a kick-ass woman with a degree in business, but Jordan had also helped America’s military forces. She knew they were a target because they were currently being politically bullied by Saudi Arabia. She would do anything to help this ally of America stay alive.
“So it was the four royals?” she asked, “or were there more people in their entourage affected?”
“How did you know?” Wyatt asked.
“Because a lot of the time they have distant relatives act as assistants and bodyguards. My guess is that they might not have been as sick, unless they were a close relative.”
“One lady was convulsing. A couple of others, not too bad.”
Riya nodded. “Get me that canister, I’m sure I can counteract it. If I can do this fast enough, we can get this to the hospital and save them,” she said urgently. She let loose the hose so she could take a deep breath.
She thought she heard a banging, then Wyatt went and opened up the door to the suite. It was Hunter and he had his modified oxygen tank. She crimped her hose again so she could hear.
“Do you want me to put it in there?” he asked pointing to thick plastic curtains covering the bathroom entrance.
“No. What is it?” He was going too fast and she was having trouble hearing him.
“It’s the tank from up on the roof. Do you want me to go put it in your clean room?” Hunter asked again.
“Does this hold the deployed canister that was used on the King and his family?” she asked as she took the modified oxygen tank out of Hunter’s hands. Then she looked at his hands. She wilted. All they had were protective gloves. Just leather to keep them safe. She hated that.
The suite door opened again. It was Gray with Dex was right behind him.
Gray was saying something, but she couldn’t hear him. He practically yelled, so she could finally hear him in the receiver over the hiss of the air. “What are you doing?” he asked.
“Since this has the canister with the toxin used on the King, I’m going to analyze it. It should be extremely close to what I examined last month. This will just have a genetic tweak or two that I need to comprehend in order to develop the counter-sequence. Once I have that, the antitoxin will take minutes to create, but it will then need to be administered as quickly as possible. It’s the analyzing process that takes the longest.”
“That’s not the canister that was used on the Jordanians. This is the one from the roof,” Gray clarified.
“Where’s the one used on the King?” she asked.
“Aiden’s trying to track it down.”
Riya’s stomach clenched. They didn’t have time to waste. The amount of time it took to process things through the centrifuge, thermal cycler and fluorescence reader would take hours. Minutes mattered.
“When does Aiden think he’ll be able to retrieve it?” she asked.
“They closed off the entire room. Nobody’s allowed in, otherwise I’d send the whole team down to help search.” Gray was obviously frustrated. “As it is, Aiden’s going to have a hell of a time finding and then taking the canister out of there.”
“I’m down here looking too, Gray,” Dalton said in his ear.
Thank God for small miracles.
Riya took her time thinking it through. The Jordanians were the target. They would have used the same toxin in the room, and had a back-up going through the HVAC units. The triplets had all died in under sixteen hours. She needed to make a command decision.
“There’s almost a hundred percent
probability that this contains the same toxin as the one in the ballroom. I need to get to work now,” she decided.
Gray stepped in front of her, careful to keep space between them so he didn’t touch her suit, he didn’t want to risk damaging it. “Riya, are you sure?”
“Gray, be logical. What are the chances this doesn’t contain the same thing?”
“Riya, it’s my job to expect the unexpected. So far, things have gone wrong, so it seems to me this could, too.”
“That wasn’t logical,” she grimaced. “What’s worse, if everything had gone perfectly, you would say that because things had gone perfectly, now was the time that something would go wrong.”
He had the good grace to look sheepish. She laughed, and it fogged the inside of her mask.
Gray looked serious, “How much time do they have to live?”
“There’s a child, right?”
“A twelve-year-old girl.”
“She probably has ten hours max. Using only portable equipment, it’s going to take me five to six hours to get the antitoxin developed, and then she’ll need to be injected and have at least one to two hours for it to flow through her bloodstream. Gray, this is like meningitis. Even if she doesn’t die, she can end up deaf or with brain damage.”
She paused and took a deep breath.
“Gray, there just isn’t any time to spare.”
He nodded. “Do your thing, Buttercup.”
* * *
As Gray watched her go through the inner door of the containment room, he turned on Wyatt.
“She can’t hear us, right?”
“Not if we talk softly. The air hisses pretty loudly in that space suit of hers.”
“Okay, then everybody speak softly.” He turned to Hunter. “Where the fuck is Griffin Porter?” He was caught between concern for his team member and batshit terror for Riya.
“Griff is chasing down the guy who rappelled off the side of the roof, I was left with the canister and corpses.”
“Three guys for one canister? That makes no sense,” Gray said.
Her Captivated Hero: A Black Dawn Novel Book 6 Page 17
