Take No Quarter

by Desiree Holt

“You okay?” he asked.

  “I will be when we get out of here. We will, right?” She was pale and shaking, doing her best to hold it together, but when she looked at Slade, fear was still evident in her eyes.

  “Count on it,” he assured her. Then he clicked his mic. “This is Sierra One. Any sign of Lopez Garcia?”

  All the responses came back negative.

  “He’s probably a hundred miles away. Forget him for now and let’s get the fuck out of here.”

  At that moment they heard more shots, these coming from the stairs and the hallway. Trey turned to see Axel with a body at his feet.

  “Nice going,” he told the man.

  “Need help in there?” He nodded toward the room.

  Trey shook his head.

  Just then two more men sprinted up the staircase. Axel and Brock turned, their Colt M4 Carbines spat bullets and two bodies fell backwards down the stairs, blood pouring from multiple wounds.

  “Let’s get the fuck out of here,” Slade growled again. “I don’t know how many more tangoes are still here, but we need to haul ass. If any of them try to stop us, eliminate them.”

  On the move now, he held Dana close to him with one hand while he grabbed his radio with the other to signal the chopper. “This is Sierra One. Need exfil now. Hustle it. How copy?”

  “Good copy,” came back the answer. “On my way.”

  They raced from the house, aware that more men were running into it from wherever they’d been. With the rest of the team laying down covering fire, they hustled into the back yard, Slade in the lead with Dana hugged close to him.

  “I don’t know how many idiots are still alive, maybe out at the front of the house, but you can bet they’ll be after us any minute now,” he told the team. “Let’s take advantage of the little lead we’ve got on them.”

  They made their way quickly through the jungle growth the same way they had reached the finca. In moments they heard shouts coming from inside the casa, the sound of their pursuers evident in the screech of birds as their nesting places were disrupted.

  “How many of those fuckers were there, anyway?” Marc snarled.

  “More than we were led to believe.” Slade scowled. “Let’s move it.”

  Then they were back to the tiny clearing spot where they’d landed, the chopper hovering overhead, two men crouched in the doorway. One of them dropped the rope with a harness attached, and Slade made quick work of fastening Dana into it. A second rope was dropped at the same time and the team climbed as fast as they could. Slade was the last to ascend, and was halfway up the ladder when they heard shouting below and shots fired.

  The team in the helo riding the opening fired back, but Slade signaled for the chopper to lift away with him still clinging to the rope.

  “Haul ass,” Slade shouted, when he was finally pulled in.

  With everyone inside and in one piece, the helo banked away and rose into the night.

  Trey leaned back against the helo wall and glanced over at Dana Roberts. He had to give her high marks. She hadn’t freaked, hadn’t screamed when the asshole had held a gun to her head or bullets had been flying all around her. Even now, seated on the floor of the cabin, surrounded by men in black clothing with black grease on their faces, lethal weapons strapped to their chests, she managed to hold it together.

  She was almost but not quite his type. A little short, a little thin and maybe even a little young for his taste. But damn brave.

  For fuck’s sake, McIntyre. She’s not here for you to ask out on a date.

  Still, it bothered him that she seemed so familiar. An image danced just at the edge of his consciousness, but he somehow couldn’t manage to pull it into focus. Later, he told himself, and focused on the here and now.

  “I—I want to thank you all,” she shouted over the noise of the rotors, her arms wrapped around herself.

  Slade grinned at her, teeth white against his darkened skin. “All in a day’s work.”

  Her laugh still had an edge of nerves to it. “I hardly think so. But in any event, I am eternally grateful to you. I wasn’t sure I’d get out of there alive. I heard they asked my bosses for twenty million.” She snorted. “I’m not sure they think I’m worth that much.”

  “They thought you were valuable enough to pull strings and get Delta Force involved,” Slade told her.

  “I’m sure they were concerned about the headlines if I got killed.” She brushed a hand, still trembling slightly, over her face. “Anyway, thank you all so much. I will be forever grateful.”

  “We’re just glad we could bring you back in one piece.” Slade shook his head. “It’s just too bad Lopez Garcia wasn’t on the premises.”

  “The man is a ghost,” she spat. “He has to be stopped, if that’s even possible. And I’m still going to follow the story. The cartels have their hands in everything, everywhere. The Lopez Garcia cartel is nearly as big as Sinaloa, and once they get a toehold, you can’t dislodge them.” She tightened her hands into fists. “I’ve seen what they can do, how bloodthirsty they are, the control they can exert when they manage to insert themselves into businesses.”

  “Just make sure you get a good bodyguard,” he suggested.

  Trey studied her face in the shadow of the cabin. She looked so familiar to him, but he had no idea why. He knew he’d never met her before. It was possible she just looked like someone he’d met once upon a time. Maybe it would come to him after a while. Problem was, he was so footloose and fancy-free where women were concerned, determined not to put down roots of any kind. The number of women who had passed through his life could probably fill a catalog. Sometimes he felt a little guilty about it, but he was so not ready to settle down yet, despite the fact that in the past year three of his teammates had.

  For a moment, he thought of the woman he’d met at the party the Huttons had thrown, one that they’d all attended. She’d dumped a plate of food on him, helped him clean up, fetched him a beer and they’d spent two hot and heavy days and nights together. He’d been with a lot of women—not something he bragged about—but they all paled in comparison to this one. The electricity between them could have lit up all of San Antonio, and the sex had just blown his mind. And unlike a lot of the women with whom he’d enjoyed recreational sex, Kenzi had been smart and funny and easy to be with. If he ever had the urge to settle down, this would be the kind of woman he wanted.

  If.

  Because settling down was the furthest thing from his mind. Delta Force was his significant other right now. When he was done here, there’d be plenty of time to explore more options.

  So when their interlude—their very hot interlude—was over, he’d followed his usual pattern. Thanked her for a great time, told her how much he’d enjoyed himself and gotten the hell out of there. He hadn’t even asked for her last name or her phone number, because that implied continuity.

  But then, to his shock and dismay, it had taken him a long time to get her out of his mind. He still hadn’t been able to fully, much to his irritation. Dana Roberts in some way reminded him of Kenzi and that was the trigger for this unwanted trip down Memory Lane. He wondered if they’d ever cross paths again. Should he have Slade ask the Huttons about her?

  No. Big no. He didn’t do anything more than long weekends. A week was stretching it.

  At least until now, a little voice whispered.

  How was it that damn woman had taken up space in his brain and refused to move out? He always walked away. Always. It was tacitly understood from the beginning. So why the hell was this one hanging around? He needed to do something about that.

  They were going to San Antonio after this, with an open invitation to stay at Slade’s ranch. But their lieutenant was still a newlywed, with limited home time. Those without women waiting for them would go into San Antonio and scare up some kind of action. And that was fine with him. He liked the city. There was always action someplace, and that was just what he needed now.

  Before long they desce
nded and were landing at Fort Hood. The men all waited while Slade helped Dana Roberts off the chopper and delivered her to the group of people waiting on the tarmac. He watched as a tall, older man pulled her into a hard hug, and he assumed it was her father. He could only imagine the relief he and the others waiting were feeling.

  Trey deplaned with the rest of the team and spent the next forty-five minutes in a debrief. A driver from the base’s transportation unit waited with a van to deliver the entire team to a nearby private airfield, where Teobaldo ‘Teo’ Rivera, Slade’s ranch manager, was waiting with Slade’s personal helo to ferry them to the ranch.

  “We’ve got ten days,” Slade told the team, “and a promise that it won’t be interrupted this time.”

  “Yeah,” Beau, code name Surfer, laughed. “We know how that goes.”

  “No, this time is for real. If we don’t get a break, we won’t be any good on the next mission.”

  Beau and Marc would be taking off to be with their women, and Slade’s wife, Kari, would be waiting for him on the ranch. The three of them—Trey, Axel and Brock—planned to head to San Antonio, check into a hotel downtown in the city and see what they wanted to do from there.

  The sun was up by the time they were in their rooms and the only thing they wanted at that moment was a shower and some sleep.

  “Whoever wakes up first, text the others,” he told the other two. “Slade scored tickets for the Spurs game tonight, if you guys are interested. Good game tonight with the Golden State Warriors.”

  Brock lifted an eyebrow. “How the hell did he get those? I’m a basketball junkie and those are two of the hottest teams in the NBA.”

  “Beau’s lady is a sportswriter, but the two of them weren’t interested in using the tickets.” He grinned. “I do believe they had other things to do. Anyway, three is an odd number to get but she took them because she figured us poor single idiots might want to go.”

  “Hell, yeah.” Brock looked at Axel. “What about you?”

  The other man shrugged. “I’m okay with it. I’m not in the mood to troll the bars tonight anyway.”

  They agreed to meet in the lobby at seven, drive to the AT&T Center where the Spurs played and grab some food when they got there.

  In his room, Trey stripped out of his clothes and stepped into the shower, letting the hot water wash away the dirt and grime of the mission and ease the tension in his muscles. Then he crawled into bed and set his mental clock for eight hours.

  As he was falling asleep, the image of Dana Roberts flashed into his mind. Only this one was an older Dana, and there was a familiarity about it he couldn’t put his finger on. His last thought was to wonder what the hell that was all about.

  Chapter Two

  Kenzi Bryant stepped out of her shower and wrapped a towel around herself. For the fifth time she wondered why she’d even agreed to go to the basketball game tonight. Sure, she was a Spurs fan, and these tickets were like gold. But lately her life had been one tense roller-coaster ride.

  First, there was the business with her younger sister. Well, half-sister, but they never thought of themselves like that. She never could understand how Dana deliberately put herself in harm’s way. What story could be worth risking her life for, no matter how many awards she won? Thank the lord the big media conglomerate she worked for had strings to pull to get the government to send a rescue team for her.

  Had Trey been part of that team? Had he known it was her sister?

  Come on, Kenzi. How the hell would he know that? He doesn’t even have your last name. And wouldn’t it just be too much of a coincidence for him to be part of the rescue team?

  She had spoken with Dana four times since the rescue, trying to convince her sister to take some time off, maybe come for a visit.

  ‘We haven’t spent time together in ages,’ she’d reminded her.

  Dana had laughed. ‘That’s because you’re even busier than I am, big sister. You’ve got your career on a fast track and you don’t need to put a plug in it to hold my hand.’

  ‘Maybe I just want us to have some sister time.’

  ‘I’ll tell you what. You get past this client that’s your ticket to a partnership, I’ll finish this series, then we’ll hang out and celebrate.’

  ‘Promise?’

  ‘I promise.’

  ‘By the way, how is that hot soldier you’ve been rocking the sheets with?’

  God, she’d been sorry she’d ever mentioned Trey to Dana. But they spoke so seldom, or at least that was how it seemed, and she’d wanted to share something personal.

  ‘That’s nothing permanent. You know me.’ She’d hoped she had just the right casual tone. ‘Anyway, take care. Please.’

  She’d better clear her mind of thoughts dealing with Trey. Her life plan did not have room at the moment for a relationship of any kind. Another date? Forget it. He’d probably forgotten about her, anyway.

  ‘Picky, picky, picky,’ Deandra kept telling her when she insisted there was no one who interested her.

  She deliberately chose men who weren’t looking for anything beyond casual, whether it was two days or two months. Trey had given off the same kind of vibes, which was how they had hooked up at the Hutton party and screwed themselves blind for three days. Then he’d been gone, his down time over, leaving her with hot memories. And that was all she wanted. Ever. Right? The chance she’d ever see him again was less than zero, which worked for her. She had professional goals to reach before ever letting anyone into her life for an extended period.

  But when his leave was over and he’d returned to base, somehow he’d kept invading her dreams, uprooting her world in a way that other men had not. She needed to get past that, since she’d probably never see him again. After all, they hadn’t made any promises to each other. Right? And wasn’t that the way they both liked it? Wasn’t that what made the connection work?

  So why the hell couldn’t she get him out of her mind?

  Just forget him, she kept telling herself. Her focus was on her career and on making partner. Four years of undergrad and three years at a top law school were the first steps in her plan to become a top-notch corporate attorney. Being hired at the elite law form of Byrnes, Calhoun and Raven was a major step in that direction.

  Being—hopefully—on the partnership track meant every day she was putting twenty-five pounds of sugar in a ten-pound bag. This firm was one of the wealthiest in the San Antonio area, with a staggering list of high-profile corporate clients. Twenty years ago, they had literally emerged out of nowhere and exploded onto the legal scene. Now, in addition to the three senior partners, there were ten juniors and twenty associates.

  Being hired there right after graduation had been a real honor and here she was, ten years later, being considered for partnership over many of the other associates.

  Today had been another tough, busy day at the office. She and one of the senior partners, Reed Calhoun, were deep into work on a project for a long-time client, Alex Reyes. They were creating a new and complicated corporate structure for the man’s growing international business operations. Apparently, he and his family were looking beyond their cattle operations, extensive as they were, and the very profitable mineral leases on a portion of each ranch. Now they were planning to buy into or create related enterprises in Canada, Europe and Australia.

  Sometimes, when she was checking incorporation and nonresident rules in the various countries, she wondered what it would be like to have so much money that she could invest it anywhere in the world she wanted to. ‘You’d think,’ she often mused to Deandra, ‘that after working for seven years in a firm that catered only to the very wealthy, I’d be used to it, yet it still dazzles me after all this time.’

  But this was the biggest project she’d worked on by far. Calhoun had even hinted at a trip to Europe to meet with some of the people who would be involved. Kenzi had made a note to herself to learn more about exchange rates of foreign currency and favorable trades, which was their cu
rrent focus.

  If only there wasn’t something about their client that pinged her. The worst of it was, she couldn’t say what. The man was the epitome of old San Antonio society and wealth, polished yet friendly, never condescending and able to put people at their ease. Rich and well respected. Yet something about him set off her internal sensors. She’d better deal with it before she did or said the wrong thing and ended up in trouble with the partners. All her sweat, hard work and long hours would be down the drain.

  After an intense morning working with Reed, she’d spent the rest of the day with her paralegal to dial her into the situation and give her a long list of things she needed yesterday.

  It’s always yesterday.

  Not that she was complaining. She thrived on the challenges of corporate work the way trial lawyers thrived on the cases they had, while others lusted after the glamorous life of trial attorneys. Structuring businesses to give them maximum protection and solidify operations actually got her blood going.

  ‘But aren’t you bored?’ her friend Deandra often asked.

  ‘Not even for a minute.’ She’d grinned. ‘You have no idea how exciting closing legal loopholes can be.’

  But what about Mister Tall, Dark and Dangerous?

  The instant the memory popped into her brain she made a supreme effort to erase it. Too bad it lodged itself there and wouldn’t go away, reminding her of the moment Mr. Hottie had come into her life.

  She’d gone to the party hosted by old friends Natalie and Paul Hutton, intending only to put in an appearance for an hour then boogie out of there. But fate must have been having a good time with her that night. She’d been helping herself to hors d’oeuvres, turned, bumped into the person behind her and it was all over his shirt. It would always be one of her top five embarrassing moments, since the victim of her clumsiness had turned out to be one of the sexiest men she’d ever bumped into. Literally.

  Even now she remembered being frozen in place while she’d stared at the six foot plus of muscular male with curly brown hair worn a little longer than most of the men she knew, a trimmed scruff-style beard and brown eyes like melted chocolate. A tiny scar, barely visible, curled at the end of his left eyebrow. For one of the rare moments in her life she’d been actually struck dumb, staring at him like a tongue-tied adolescent.