Licensed To Thrill

by Gemma Brocato

  Finally, he relaxed. “Not this time. But we’re a team, Jayne. What if something had gone wrong? I wasn’t there to help.”

  Seriously? I was a vampire facing a feeble human. Even as large as he was, I could have easily taken down the oaf and two other men his size without breaking a sweat.

  Not bothering to let him know how ridiculous I found his statement, I nodded. “Thanks.”

  “Tell me what you learned.”

  “She confirmed her husband worked for Koszlov. As we suspected, he’s behind this plot. She did say something rather concerning, however. The chemicals they’re producing have to be water-soluble. There’s a good chance they’re targeting water sources.”

  “Dammit!”

  He had the right of that.

  “I’ve filed a report with T and asked her to spread the word to increase security on hard targets, specifically waterways. I just wish I knew which rivers and cities he has in his sights.”

  “Did you think to copy me on that report?” He pursed his lips. Not a great look on him. But his expression led me to believe I’d hurt his feelings.

  “Baxter, listen now. I’m not used to working as a team. I’ll try to do better.”

  He nodded. “Anything else I need to be aware of?”

  “Thierry-Sue did say she believed they were near the end of construction and that production in the lab had been stepped up. They must be closer to their goal than we imagined.” My belly churned. We were in the unenviable position of being behind the eight ball.

  “So what’s our next step, boss?”

  I rather liked the sound of that. “Have you had an opportunity to look at the plans Bligh supplied this morning? In between keeping tabs on me, I mean.” As digs went, it was good, but not subtle.

  “I started a scan. But I could use a second set of eyes.”

  “Bring your laptop to my suite in thirty minutes. We can go over them together.” See there? I could be a team player.

  He nodded and spun on his heel.

  “Tamsyn?” I called.

  He halted then cast a glance over his shoulder, that damnable eyebrow kicked upward again.

  “Thirty minutes. Not a minute earlier.”

  The corners of his lips curved up, and he saluted.

  I heard a familiar bark of laughter as the door swung shut behind him. If we were in Monaco, I’d lay money on a bet he’d deliberately show up before expected.

  6

  Mission Day 3

  Rapa Nui

  The breeze coming in the window by the helicopter’s jump seat was refreshing, just enough to cut the oppressive heat in the back of the helo. The three of us, disguised as geologists, were on our way to Rapa Nui. Thanks to being a vampire, I was the only occupant not sweating. Even though the pilot’s dreadlocks waved in the breeze from the small open window in his door, sweated beaded the dark skin of his brow. Being undead had its perks, but my lower than average body temp didn’t stop my nerves from jumping like water hitting a hot skillet—sizzling and shivery.

  Baxtard had been in charge of lining up our transportation. Although I would have preferred a gunship, his choice of a commercial company made sense. We’d attract less attention landing on the island. Bax had booked the bird for an overnight trip. And while I was qualified to fly the chopper, my cover didn’t support it, and the owner wasn’t keen on us just taking off with his equipment. He’d insisted on coming along as our pilot.

  The plans Bligh provided were about as useful as a pair of tits on a bull. I’d argued there was something missing in the plans, but I’m no architect, so I couldn’t pinpoint what made them incomplete. I just knew they didn’t match the compiled schematic from the demons reverse radar and VIS subsurface images.

  Lucien sided with me on my conclusion, but skepticism etched unattractive lines into Baxtard’s face. It was easy to surmise Bligh hadn’t given us the most recent set of plans. The why of that remained a looming question. Was he in Viktor’s employ? A scary but plausible theory. That made him a double agent, a reality that wouldn’t sit well with his master. There’d be a demotion in the future for the lesser demon. In fact, he might end up standing on his head in a room knee-high with shite.

  Regardless, from what we could decipher, the bloody installation was a veritable fortress with no apparent weaknesses.

  I’d opposed this extra recon activity on the basis there were too many unknowns. But in the spirit of cooperation, I allowed the boys to win the argument. We were all on edge. Arms crossed, I frowned across the compartment at my companions.

  Best-case scenario, we’d walk past the guards at the gates as though we belonged. But one vampire, one demon, and a pasty-faced human trainee didn’t have a prayer. Even the most powerful glamour in my arsenal wouldn’t last long enough or be strong enough to fool a security force of at least one hundred soldiers. I knew from experience Viktor was paranoid, and my estimate of the size of his goon squad could quite possibly be low.

  My feet itched in the cotton socks and heavy work boots I’d donned for our expedition. One simply could not show up at what was supposed to be a work site wearing the open-toed sandals I preferred when the temp rose above blistering. At least shorts were standard issue for a geologist. Judging by Lucien’s inability to keep his eyes off my bare legs when we’d boarded, the khaki utility pants that only reached to mid-thigh were more than acceptable. The old handsome devil was slouched on his side of the helo, facing backward, hands folded over his flat stomach. Soft-as-sin blue jeans stretched over his muscular thighs. His feet, clad in battered hiking boots, were crossed at the ankle. Eyelids closed, he pretended to be asleep, but I knew better. A tiny smile flickered over his lips. I’d dubbed this expression his “sexy beast look” and rather liked how he made me feel…as if he longed to get me alone somewhere.

  The guppy, on the other hand, had opened his laptop, and his gaze on the screen hadn’t wavered since the first minute after takeoff. I’d tried to catch a peek once or twice, curious about what he found so damn fascinating, but he’d deployed some kind of privacy shield over the screen’s surface. I wasn’t sure, but I doubted his behavior could be considered team play. I gave up and stared out the window.

  “On your right.” Yuri, our pilot’s, voice crackled through the earphones. He gestured out the window. “Rapa Nui.”

  “The flight wasn’t as long as I expected,” I commented as I scanned the endless expanse of water beneath us. The dot on the horizon had been steadily growing larger as we flew west toward the sun.

  Baxtard whipped his head up from his laptop and twisted at an awkward angle to catch a glimpse. He checked his watch, brows jacked up toward his hairline. “We’ve made good time.”

  With a yawn, Lucien straightened. “I suppose we should consider our strategy.”

  I flicked my gaze toward the pilot and gave an nearly imperceptible shake of my head. When I was in full-on agent mode, I trusted no one. Not even Baxtard was above suspicion. Sure, he was my teammate, but working alone for nearly a century had ingrained a sense of self-preservation deep within me.

  “Once we’re on land, I’ll scout the location while you and Tamsyn help the pilot offload the equipment.”

  “You shouldn’t do the recon alone, Jayne.” When my boot connected rather hard to his shin, the trainee’s face registered shock.

  Apparently, he’d miss spy school class the day they discussed being discreet and not using words like recon around civilians.

  “I won’t go far,” I lied as I shot a warning look across the small space. “I just want to get reacquainted with the moai.”

  Baxtard quit rubbing his leg and, with hurt still flickering over his face, began to stuff his laptop in the case.

  “What she’s trying to say, tadpole, is she doesn’t want to do any of the heavy lifting. So she’ll leave that to us and start working on the measurements on the monoliths.” Lucien’s interpretation was half right. I didn’t want to help unload our cargo. But I didn’t give a flip abo
ut the historically significant statues either. I really wanted to find the evil doctor’s lair and end his existence.

  My fingers twitched with the thought of pulling the trigger and unloading the Walther’s magazine into Koszlov’s worthless skull.

  Blood thirsty much?

  Maybe. But in my mind, his death was justified. We needed to take him down before he decimated some population with his nefarious plan. Even though, for now, we were only able to speculate about his goal. That’s what our mission was all about. Stop the baddie…save humanity. Save my own life.

  The whomp, whomp, whomp of the helo’s rotors slowed, and the landing skids settled on the sand like a feather falling to earth. Yuri toggled a couple switches, killing the engine. The sudden silence was disconcerting. Yanking the comm system off my head, I leaned forward and cracked open the mostly glass door that came with the sightseeing helicopter.

  My feet slipped in the sand when I leapt out. I was followed by my team while the blades overhead spun lazily, tossing grains against my skin. I strode clear of the mechanical bird, my gaze sweeping right, then left, then on a continuous loop, checking for the approach of the security forces I suspected lurked nearby.

  We’d landed on the southeastern side of the island, away from where most of the tourists would be gawking at the statues. While Baxtard and Lucien helped unload and set up our overnight camp, I strapped on my utility belt, complete with a tape measure, sextant, and notepad. Buried in a secret, but easily accessible pouch on my belt, laid my back-up weapon, a Colt Mustang, waiting for action. My Walther was in the pack strapped to my back.

  Setting off from the site that would be our base camp, I ventured toward the monoliths. I headed northeast, aiming for the spot I estimated would lead me closest to what we’d identified as potentially the true entrance to the subterranean manufacturing facility.

  Hiking to the moai felt as if I were walking on the moon. The landscape was oddly barren. Rapa Nui had been mostly deforested by the time the first English adventurers had arrived in the early eighteenth century. The lack of trees was unsettling, but their absence allowed for three hundred and sixty degrees of exceptional visibility. All around me, eerie charcoal and black monoliths rose from the sand, stretching toward the sun. The sheer age of them, the length of their exposure to the elements had left the surfaces pitted. Whitish lichen dotted the nose and eyes of some of the standing stones. The angle of the sun cast a lengthy shadow across the land, resembling the sharp teeth of a saw.

  I squatted next to the first statue and unbuckled the backpack. Rummaging through the bag, I located the GPS device Drax had supplied for my firearm. Holding the sight to my eye, I could see far to the horizon. According to the diode at the bottom of the digital display, the concrete structure that had jutted up on the map we’d created of the island’s surface was about two kilometers distant.

  Unfortunately, a security detail approaching at a fast jog was much closer.

  I stuck two fingers in my mouth and let out a shrill whistle. That got Bax’s attention. I hand-signaled about the impending arrival. Through my GPS scope, I saw confusion run rampant on the guppy’s face. Lucien waved his hands in the air and his lips moved, obviously explaining what I’d communicated. I massaged my temples. My report to T was going to include a strongly worded suggestion that Bax be made to repeat Secret Agent 101.

  Lucien snagged one end of a large clunky box and gestured to Bax to grab the other end. They jogged single file in my direction, the crate between them. I checked my Walther, knowing a bullet was already chambered, but there was no harm in verifying the fact. A quick survey of the landscape showed the guards within one thousand yards of my position. After I stood, I stashed the gun in the waistband of my shorts and lifted the tails of my camp-style shirt over the butt to camouflage it.

  The crate crashed to the ground next to me, and Lucien pried off the lid, tossing it aside.

  “Bax, grab the tripod and the scanner and get the contraption set up in front of the monolith.” Lucien barked the order, pointing to a statue three down from our location. The muscle in his square jaw ticked harshly as he squinted into the sun, looking at the rapidly approaching visitors.

  “Got it.” Bax dug inside and withdrew a digital surveying scanner. He grasped the handle. After tucking the tripod under his arm, he started to run.

  “For pity’s sake, newbie!” I hissed loudly. “Don’t run. They think we’re geologists. Don’t blow our cover.”

  In response, Bax slowed to a saunter. Whether his bobbling of the equipment was part of an act for the benefit of our visitors or his innate ineptitude was hard to determine.

  Our visitors were so close now I heard their boots pounding the rocky ground and their heartbeats rushing with their exertion.

  “You there!” one of them shouted. The only thing distinguishing him as a potential leader was the ostentatious braided epaulets on his shoulders.

  “Who? Us?” Innocently, I thumped a finger into my chest. Adrenaline surged through my veins, making it difficult to keep my fangs in check. My autonomic response was to flick them through my gums at the first sight of danger.

  Showy Epaulet Guy skidded to a stop in front of Lucien. “You’re trespassing. This is private property.”

  Typical male chauvinist. Going straight to the strongest-looking male in the group instead of inquiring as to who might be in charge.

  Lucien smirked at me before replying. “I only go where I’m told. And she”—he jerked his thumb in my direction—“didn’t say anything about private property.”

  Eyebrows climbing midway up the man’s dark brown forehead, he spun toward me. The name on his uniform read Manuel. “You don’t have permission to be here.” His pursed lips led me to believe he wouldn’t listen to reason.

  I tried anyway. “I don’t need permission. I’m with UNESCO, and this isn’t private property. We’re standing on a World Heritage Site. Anyone can be here.”

  “I need to see your credentials.” Manuel propped one hand on the butt of his sidearm and thrust the other toward me, palm flat.

  Slow as a snail, I searched my utility belt and then my knapsack for the VIS falsified documentation identifying me as a UNESCO employee.

  Manuel snapped his fingers.

  Like that would make me move any faster. With a sunny smile as fake as my papers, I handed him the required documents.

  “I believe you’ll find everything in order. We’re here studying the moai and the cause of their unprecedented subsidence. Do you realize they are sinking? Why, they’ve shifted at least four millimeters in the past six months. That’s twice as fast as in the last decade. We’re very concerned.”

  “Stay there,” Manny ordered. Drawing a mobile from his pocket, he moved away a discreet distance and placed his call.

  Bax dropped his equipment and jogged back to Lucien and me. “Do you think they’ll buy it?”

  As hard as I struggled to keep my fangs where they belonged, they pierced the surface of my gums. The need to rip Bax’s tongue out of his mouth was powerful.

  “Why wouldn’t they?” I asked with exaggerated patience. “UNESCO cleared this excursion with the Rapa authorities.”

  Manuel swiveled his gaze to me, cupping the phone.

  Ignoring Bax, I tuned into his conversation.

  “Their paperwork looks legitimate.” A pause. I couldn’t hear the other side of the conversation. “No, a lady and two gentlemen. Scientists.” Another pause. I commenced tapping my toe. Manuel huffed out a breath. “Yes, I’ll stand by.”

  While Manuel settled into limbo, we could at least get started looking official. I clapped my hands. “Bax, please finish setting up the tripod. We can begin our measurements.”

  Tamsyn nodded and strode away to do as asked.

  Lucien withdrew a leveling rod and made a show of traipsing around the towering monolith closest to us, as though seeking the correct spot. He shot me a thumbs up and planted the level in the ground a smidge to the left
of the statue.

  “Ready when you are,” I shouted to Bax.

  Bending at the waist, he sited Lucien’s level and hollered back coordinates. I jotted the numbers in the small notebook I’d retrieved from my utility belt.

  We’d done this wrong. The rod Lucien held should be where Bax was and vice versa. I could only hope the security types surrounding us were ignorant of surveying protocol.

  “Yes, sir,” Manuel grunted. He disconnected his call as he approached me. “Your papers appear to be in order. My superior is on his way to greet you and welcome you to Rapa Nui. Please remain here.”

  No worries there. We weren’t going anywhere until we discovered a safe way into the underground hive Koszlov had built. Manuel stepped in line with his security contingent and crossed his arms over his brawny chest, never once removing his suspicious gaze from me.

  “We need the level there where Bax is. He grabbed the wrong instruments from the crate. Go switch,” I whispered to Lucien.

  “Never send a probie…” Lucien chuckled and sprinted away.

  Red flamed in Bax’s cheeks as he returned to my side with his equipment. And that color wasn’t thanks to the merciless sun beating down on us. Even my skin, smothered in SPF50, was pinking up. I withdrew a tube of sun cream from my trusty belt and began slathering more on while directing Bax on the placement of his equipment.

  The roar of a powerful motor grated on my keen hearing. I didn’t need to look around to know Manuel’s supervisor was on his way in.

  Behind me, a car door slammed and footsteps crunched on the hard soil. “Good afternoon,” a deep, Slavic-accented voice called out.

  A shiver coursed through me. That accent…that deep voice came with ugly painful memories. Our charade was up. No way the owner of that voice wouldn’t recognize me. Even though twenty-five years had passed, and he might have changed, I looked the same. Why hadn’t I considered that?