Dangerously Entwined

by Sidney Bristol

Liman’s plan had been to capture all five. If he had them, one of them could possibly tell him where Ethan was. If they didn’t know, well, he then had five bargaining chips to use to get his soldier back.

  It was time to weigh his options. Did he take the two hostages he had and use them, or did he push his luck?

  It all depended on whether or not Melody had just blown herself up. He should know soon.

  “When they get back, I want us to pack up and move.” Liman felt more certain about that decision once the words left his mouth. “We can’t stay here any longer.”

  FRIDAY. TARGET’S HIDEOUT, Ibiza Town, Ibiza.

  Grant was grateful for the time they’d spent studying the streets surrounding their target’s location. He and Melody dashed through alleys, cut across two yards and now crept through the dense, leafy plants running along the neighbor’s property.

  Sirens wailed in the distance.

  People were out on the street.

  No matter what happened, there would be witnesses. Whoever was behind this couldn’t shut all these people up. That would work in their benefit.

  They came to a stop at the fence. He turned back to look at Melody.

  “Up and over,” she said.

  “I’ll go first.”

  She nodded and went to a knee, weapon drawn, looking through the narrow slats in the fence.

  Grant surged to his feet, using his momentum to vault over the fence. He hit the ground and went low, guns up.

  Not a soul stirred on this side of the house. All the activity was on the street side.

  Melody landed softly next to him.

  “Up through that window.” She gestured at the open second-floor balcony doors.

  “How do we get up there?” he asked.

  “Come on.”

  Melody stayed low and darted across the narrow strip of lawn to the side of the house. She holstered her weapon and turned her attention to a small, decorative tree.

  She had to be kidding.

  He watched her nimbly climb onto a lower branch, then one above. From there she straightened and walked out to where the limb had been shorn off. All she did was reach out and grasp the balcony floor.

  “Mel, I don’t think—”

  Before he could voice his concern she launched herself, dangling from the balcony by her hands. She swung her legs, building a little momentum which she then used to grasp the bars. From there she lifted herself until she could get a hold of the top rail.

  “Christ,” he muttered.

  How had he never seen this side of her? What she was capable of? Why had she never shared it with him?

  This whole business about him not showing any interest was bullshit. He’d wanted to hear, to know her. Just because he respected her privacy didn’t mean he didn’t care.

  Melody disappeared from view before he could tell her to sit tight.

  He had to go up and in now.

  Grant hoisted himself into the tree and followed the path she’d taken. The limbs creaked under his weight. Unlike her, he was able to muscle his way up the balcony with sheer brute force.

  “Mel?” He grunted as he bent over the railing.

  A gut-churning thwack had fear stabbing at him. An answering grunt spurred him to act.

  Grant scrambled over the railing as Melody pitched into view. One arm flew out and she landed hard. A man stood in the doorway, a gun in his hand.

  There wasn’t time to pull his own weapon. Grant grabbed the closest thing he could—a decorative vase—and hurled it, catching the man unaware. The heavy ceramic bounced off the man and onto the thick carpet where it split in half.

  Melody kicked out, her heel connecting with the side of the man’s knee resulting in a truly disgusting crunch.

  Grant rushed in, wrapping his arms around the man and taking him to the floor. They couldn’t let him alert anyone else. The man twisted in Grant’s arms, driving his knee into Grant’s stomach.

  “Hold him,” Melody ordered.

  “Trying.”

  Shit.

  If Grant’s knee had just been blown like this guy’s, he’d be out. The pain would be excruciating.

  Suddenly the man stopped struggling.

  Grant glanced up at Melody standing with her weapon planted against the man’s skull. The fierce look on her face told him, she’d pull that trigger.

  Had she ever shot someone and killed them before?

  That was a question Grant could no longer answer with certainty.

  “Tie him up,” Melody said.

  Grant shrugged out of the gear bag and found some plastic restraints. They’d do for now.

  He secured the man’s hands, but hesitated when it came to the guy’s legs. He and Melody stared down at the guy. His foot was pointing the wrong direction. Blood dampened his pants.

  It was wrong.

  “How is he not in pain?” Melody muttered.

  “I don’t know. He’s probably on something. Those drugs maybe?”

  Grant grabbed a tie off one of the drapes and used it to gag the guy.

  Downstairs, someone started yelling.

  Melody crept toward the door, leaving Grant behind.

  “Hold up.” He scrambled to his feet and grabbed her arm, swinging her back around to face him. “Are you okay?”

  Her brow just above her temple was red and had a lump forming, but there was no blood.

  “Fine,” she said.

  Grant didn’t think she was, but he also couldn’t confidently say he was being objective, so he let her go.

  “Me first,” he said.

  “Okay.” She gestured for him to lead.

  He strained to understand what he was hearing.

  Footsteps.

  Raised voices.

  Doors banging.

  He reached the landing between the two floors, crouched and peered at the first floor. Light flooded in through windows. Papers were on the floor.

  The voices were coming from the front of the house.

  Grant crept down the stairs, conscious of the shadow at his back. Melody moved without sound. She really was a credit to herself.

  They reached the first floor. They were in some kind of sun room, entertaining area. There were containers of food, forgotten drinks and other minor signs that people had been here.

  A door slammed. Grant swept his arm out, flattening both himself and Melody to the wall.

  “Look,” Melody whispered so softly he almost didn’t hear her.

  Across the room a mirror reflected one of the open garage doors. Several men were throwing bags into a van.

  They were getting out of here.

  A figure stepped into view.

  The man turned his head at the same moment Grant’s focus latched onto him.

  They both reacted at the same moment.

  Grant lifted his weapon.

  The man swung out with his left arm in a sweeping gesture moving faster than Grant anticipated. Before Grant could adjust, the man threw a right punch, landing a glancing blow on Grant’s jaw. He staggered back, vaguely aware of Melody darting past Grant, gun out.

  The man upstairs with no pain response.

  This man with his inhuman speed.

  Ethan. They moved like slower versions of Ethan.

  “Mel!”

  The man grabbed Melody by the arm and twisted. She went with him, crumpling and turning.

  Grant rushed them, but the man kicked out, hitting him square in the chest.

  A single gunshot made Grant’s blood go cold.

  He hadn’t fired.

  He wasn’t shot.

  “Melody?” He pushed off the wall and stared at the man slumped over Melody.

  She shoved the dead man off her, wiping blood from her chin.

  “They know we’re here,” she said.

  She was right. Grant didn’t have the luxury of worrying about her.

  Together they moved down the hall and through the house. The dining room and kitchen opened up on their left. Grant ai
med at a flash of movement.

  A man in a suit stood in a doorway staring at them.

  Grant knew that face. He’d seen it.

  It was the man Vaughn had seen in the lobby of the building they’d stayed in last time they were in Lebanon. The one who wound up being part of the group that had kidnapped their client and held Ethan.

  “You fucking bastard!” an all too familiar voice yelled.

  Riley.

  “Grant, come on,” Melody said.

  The suit wearing man darted out the doorway.

  Grant could go after the man, or save his people.

  The team came first.

  He turned and rushed after Melody.

  A man staggered backward out of a room on their right. Melody moved in first, going low. She fired, taking out the man’s right leg. He cried out, going to the ground.

  Riley staggered through the door, his face black, blue and swollen.

  “Riley!” Melody rushed to his side. “Where’s Brenden?”

  “About fucking time.” Riley moved back.

  Melody and Grant crowded into the room where Brenden had a choke hold on a man. While they watched, the man lost consciousness.

  Brenden, like Riley, had been in better shape last time they’d seen each other.

  “That man, the suit, he’s getting away.” Grant whirled.

  Riley limped after Grant. “I want that asshole.”

  “Guys!” Melody managed to infuse that one word with so much frustration.

  A loud crash and yelling from the entry had Grant going to a knee and aiming his weapon—at Nolan.

  Orion crowded in behind the blond man, both wielding shotguns of all things.

  “Where’s Brenden?” Nolan demanded.

  “Here,” Brenden called out.

  “What did you do with Vaughn?” Melody pushed past Grant.

  “He’s in the van,” Orion turned. “Come on, cops are on their way.”

  That was all they needed to hear to make their move. Grant glanced through the windows toward the now empty garage.

  Their opportunity to get the guy was gone.

  He grabbed Brenden’s arm and together they hobbled out the front and into an idling van. Nolan climbed behind the wheel, Melody taking shotgun. Vaughn was laid out on the back seat, his eyes shut. His color wasn’t as good as it had been earlier.

  No sooner had they gotten in than Nolan took off. Grant barely managed to get his ass in a seat.

  Orion thrust a stack of passports at him. “Here. You’re on standby for a London flight leaving in an hour. It’s that, or wait until later for your scheduled flight. I’m not sure these passports will pass inspection, but you have to try.”

  Grant took the booklets.

  Why did it feel as though the real danger had just begun?

  10.

  Friday. Ibiza International Airport.

  Melody shuffled forward in the security line and tried to not stare at Vaughn leaning on the security agent’s desk while his passport and boarding pass were examined. Riley and Nolan had cleared without incident. She’d looked at the documents herself, and while they appeared like a normal passport, the devil was in the details.

  The pictures weren’t clear enough.

  There was some smudging on the print from the rush forgery job.

  And the leather cover was a slightly darker blue than it should be.

  The woman handling Vaughn threw her head back and laughed at whatever it was he said.

  Melody blew out a breath and glanced at Brenden in the other line going through the metal detector.

  Their people were one step closer to escaping this island.

  Grant was behind her and would bring up the rear in case anything happened.

  Vaughn wavered on his feet as he straightened. His new girlfriend, Carla, was going to demand answers. Melody wasn’t sure what to tell her. The reason their team had been targeted was because of Carla’s friend. When they’d rescued him, they’d knocked over the first domino leading them to this moment.

  Melody kept watching Vaughn. He was moving slowly. She could see the pain here and there. The meds were wearing off and before much longer they’d have to do something to help him travel more comfortably. London wasn’t a terribly long flight, but with his injuries it wouldn’t be fun. Besides, they still had no idea what other internal damage he might have.

  Vaughn had to get to London. His life depended on it.

  Brenden paused just out of the way at the entrance to the terminal, seeming to stare at his phone. Melody knew what he was actually doing.

  Waiting for Vaughn.

  They’d agreed to all enter the airport individually with the hope that they would draw less attention to themselves. People looking for a group of five guys and one woman would be thrown off having to identify the individuals, and that was how they hoped to blend in and escape detection.

  The line inched forward until it was almost Melody’s turn. This close she could see the dangly earrings the security guard wore, the sheen of her lip gloss. Out of her uniform she’d be a beautiful, stylish woman.

  The green light flipped on and the uniformed woman met Melody’s gaze. She pasted on a smile and approached the counter, offering her passport and boarding pass.

  “Hello,” the woman said with a lovely sing-song voice.

  “Hi.” Melody smiled a bit too much. “Those earrings are gorgeous.”

  The woman glanced up from the boarding pass and slid the passport under the scanner with practiced ease. Her face transformed into stunning as she smiled.

  “Thank you,” she said in accented English. “My brother bought them for me.”

  “He has very good taste.” Melody sighed. “I wish I could wear something like that. My luck? They all hit my shoulders.”

  The woman frowned a bit, zeroing in on Melody’s ears and neck—not her face. There was only so much drugstore makeup could cover-up when it came to the knot on her forehead. “I think you could pull these off.”

  “You think so?”

  The woman nodded with authority. “Yes. Here you go.”

  She handed Melody’s passport back to her without ever having truly looked at it. Distraction was a tool, a subtle one, but this time it was going to get her on the damn plane.

  Melody took the documents and smiled. “I’ll have to go shopping.”

  “Enjoy. Have a good flight.”

  She turned her back, but didn’t breathe a sigh of relief until she’d made it all the way through security and was on the other side. Once she’d gathered her meager belongings, she popped into the ladies room for a quick outfit change. The romper Orion had supplied her with wasn’t ideal for traveling, but once she’d put a sheer cardigan on over it, tied her hair up and added a bit more lipstick, she looked different enough that anyone hunting for a Melody might not recognize her.

  Spy craft was still new to her. It was one of the areas she found fascinating about her new job. Quick changes that altered facets of her appearance were key. So going from a frumpy sweatpants and T-shirt to a sleek romper was enough to help evade detection. Disguises didn’t always have to be elaborate to work.

  Melody tossed her previous outfit in the garbage then left the restroom almost at the same moment a man in slacks and a blue button down strode past.

  “Oh, sorry,” she muttered, and looked up at Grant.

  She wasn’t prepared.

  He’d changed clothes, too. And damn if he didn’t look good. Something about a dress shirt with the sleeves rolled up just past the forearm did it for her.

  He held her elbow for a moment longer than was necessary before letting go.

  “It’s okay,” he said then gestured for her to go ahead of him.

  She pivoted and began to walk, but remained conscious of Grant following just far enough away they didn’t appear to be together.

  The Ibiza airport was small, but boasted plenty of shops and food options to allow for blending in. Melody ducked into a store se
lling clothing and found a rack that allowed her to watch for any sign that she’d been followed.

  She mindlessly flipped through a few T-shirts, pretending to consider a few.

  “How’s your head?”

  Grant’s voice startled her. She hadn’t been aware that he’d followed her into the store until he spoke. She glanced sideways at him standing at another rack.

  “Fine,” she replied.

  He broke character and looked at her, focusing on the caked-on make-up.

  “I’m fine. Really,” she said softer, well aware that he’d worry himself.

  Melody couldn’t fault him for caring. She was the one who’d moved in without waiting for him, yet she knew he’d still blame himself for her injury.

  He jerked his head in a nod.

  “Think we’re good to board?” she asked and turned toward a different rack.

  “I hope so.” He, too, shifted his attention. They stood with their backs toward each other now. “You did really good out there. We couldn’t have pulled this off without you.”

  His words rang with honesty that surprised her. She swallowed down the unexpected warmth his compliment inspired.

  “Careful,” she said instead. “I’ll be after your job next.”

  “I don’t know about that.” He chuckled good naturedly. “But maybe we should talk about you having a more active role in asset recovery? Could be good to have a woman who can go in, draw less attention.”

  Melody stopped her mindless search through the racks.

  Was he serious?

  Field work wasn’t what Melody signed on for. She liked her job and being in the background suited her. That didn’t mean she didn’t miss being out there, facing danger.

  Regardless of what happened, Grant’s ready acceptance of her and even forward thinking about the future of their team meant something. At least for their working relationship.

  She wasn’t ready to think about them as a couple. It was too complicated and she didn’t know where to start, if she wanted to or if it was best to walk away. They’d invested a year. Any more than that and she needed to know this relationship was heading somewhere for the both of them. But she just didn’t think it was going to work out the way she wanted it to.

  Melody was old enough and wise enough to know that she had to love the man as he was, not who he could be.