by Zoe Dawson
“Don’t call her that, and yes, I need you to do this for me. I need her home safely. Watch over her.”
Robin shifted and snorted. “I’m no judge of women—well except for when it comes to getting what I want—but she’s not going to go into that good night quietly, my friend. She looks like a ball-buster. Kicking and screaming comes to mind, and I, for one, don’t want my balls within kicking distance.”
He was completely right. That was exactly what Emma would do—kick and scream. She might not want to see Derrick after this. He’d promised her, and he was going to break that promise for the second time. If she hadn’t broken him down with those blue eyes and that determined attitude, she would be back in San Diego right now. Instead, she was out front watching their backs. “You find a way, Robin.”
“Man, this blows, but I owe you big time.” Derrick turned to go. Robin grabbed his arm. “But I’m not doing it because you saved my life.”
“Why are you doing it?”
Robin met his eyes head-on. The guy maybe didn’t look a day over nineteen, but he had the eyes of a wiser man, an old soul. “Because we’re the lost boys, there’s an innocent kid at stake and—I’m not going soft here—you love her. The first time you fell in love, you got the raw end of that deal made at the highest level. So because I can say ‘screw you’ to Uncle Sam, I’m going with this plan. For now.”
“Thank you, Robin. I’ll owe you.” Derrick’s voice came out gruff.
Those amber eyes warmed. “Nah, it’s gratis. Just don’t get dead. That’ll really piss me off.”
Derrick laughed. “You watch your back, and at the end of all this, there’ll be an anonymous star on the wall for you.”
“Yeah, you bedazzle the hell out of it for me, huh?”
Derrick chuckled. “Copy that.”
This time the warm amber lights of Robin’s eyes turned steely. “Oh, and you kill that son of a bitch, too. They’ll never be safe if you don’t.”
Derrick’s jaw and voice hardened. “You can count on that.” Derrick turned away. “I’m going to slip out and make my own way.” He was going back into the shadows, but he was used to it, like an old friend. “Take her out of here and get to the airport.”
“Have you told her?”
“Told her what?”
“That you love her.”
“There’s a commercial flight out in two hours. Make sure you’re on it. I’m depending on you to keep her safe.”
“Hey, I’m named after a famous hero and the sidekick of one of the baddest, badass superheroes of all time. I won’t let you down. You know you’re not alone.”
Derrick didn’t answer as he slipped out the back and disappeared into the forest. He picked up the rusty pickup he’d stashed in the trees along with passports with old covers from his past. He ran the risk of flagging himself with The Company, but he didn’t expect to be using these aliases for very long. A plan was forming, a plan that would end Ortega and his organization for good, and if he was lucky, destroy a good part of Diego Lopez’s business in the process. Ortega was never going to threaten the St. Johns again. Derrick got inside just as his cell phone rang. When he looked at the display, he swore under his breath. His gut was tied up in knots and his chest was on fire.
Emma.
And even the ring of the cell sounded pissed.
As soon as he engaged the call, she shouted, “How dare you do this to me!” Her voice was shaking with fury. “You promised me.”
“Your involvement ends here, Emma.” He hardened his heart; he’d done it so many times in the past it was like second nature. “I need to finish this alone. He’ll never see me coming this way. You stand out like a sore thumb with your gorgeous copper hair and that body. He’ll remember you.”
“Derrick, don’t you dare be charming right now. I want you to come back here and we’ll figure this out.”
“No, Emma,” he said, his voice clipped, then it softened when he heard her sniff. “I’m finishing it now. I don’t know how long it will take me, but if I don’t come back…” He wanted to say so many things. He wanted to tell her he loved her, that he wanted to be in her life permanently, that he wanted her with every bone in his body, every cell in his head, and every emotion in his heart. Instead, he whispered, “Take care.”
“Derrick,” her voice broke on a sob. “Don’t do this.”
“Goodbye, Emma.”
“Derrick!” she shouted. “If you do this, I’ll never forgive—”
He closed his eyes and disconnected the call. He broke down the cell, removing the sim card and snapping it in two, then chucking it out the window. The pieces he threw out as he drove away, his eyes burning, and his heart torn to shreds. She would never forgive him. That was his answer. He’d broken her trust, betrayed her, thrown her care and commitment in her face. He wouldn’t know the word team if it bit him on the ass.
“—you if you die.” Emma closed her eyes, squeezing them tight against the tears. She was in love with him, and he had the nerve to try to protect her. She could take care of herself, and he knew it. This was his white knight complex getting all mixed up in this. Emma stood there, Robin in her peripheral vision, looking as calm and collected as if they were on a stroll in the park. Maybe that came with the spook territory. She tried Derrick back, but the phone just gave her a recorded error message.
She turned to Robin and grabbed his shirtfront. She pressed him back against the hacienda and shouted, “Where did he go? Tell me.”
He held up his hands, his amber eyes sympathetic. “I don’t know. But it wouldn’t matter if I did. I wouldn’t tell you. Derrick is going to need everything he has focused on this mission. If he’s worrying about you, he’s not at one hundred percent. And believe me, he’s playing with some serious big boys. Let me do what he asked me to do for you, Emma. Keep you safe. I know him. I know him well. He’s not going to give up on this, so let him go.”
She couldn’t let him go, but at this point she couldn’t do anything to help him. But back home, there were possibilities.
When they touched down in San Diego, Emma hailed a cab. Just as she was about to tell him her destination, her cell chimed. She looked down to see it was the hospital calling. She answered while the cabbie waited, and Robin settled inside and closed the door.
“Emma St. John.”
“Ms. St. John, this is Lieutenant Keenan over at Coronado. I wanted to let you know that your sister woke up. She’s asking for you.”
“That is great news. I’m on my way.”
She gave the cabbie the address and let Robin know. He grinned broadly as the cab pulled away from the curb. First Lily, then Emma was going to help Derrick, whether he wanted her to or not.
When she arrived at the hospital, she rushed up to Lily’s room, Robin following her closely. When she turned down the hall, she couldn’t stop herself from running. The cops at the door recognized her, smiles on their faces, but her eyes were only for her sister, sitting up in bed, looking lucid and beautiful.
With a cry of joy, she went into the room, threw her arms around her and hugged her hard. “It’s so good to see you awake. I’m crushing you.”
Lily’s voice was full of tears. “No, you’re fine. You must have been out of your mind with worry.”
They parted and Lily’s cornflower-blue eyes were swimming with tears. She glanced at Robin, then did a double take.
He came forward, reached out his hand. Lily put her good one in his and it engulfed her sister’s tiny one. “Robin,” he said. “Nice to meet you, Tinkerbell.”
“Same.” Her quizzical expression turned to her sister.
“It’s a long story, but just know he’s one of the good guys and here to help.”
When she pulled her focus back to Emma, Lily’s face was flushed. “Tell me everything. Where’s our Matty?”
Emma closed her eyes and her sister’s voice caught on a soft sob. “He’s got him, doesn’t he? I should have told you everything. I should have aske
d for your help. But I was so scared, I didn’t want anyone to know. I just wanted that nightmare to go away. I thought he would take no for an answer and would leave us alone.” She covered her mouth. “What have I done, Emma. What have I done?”
After many explanations and many tears between the both of them, Lily finally went to sleep. Emma rose and backed away. Robin was standing at the door, his eyes riveted to Lily in the bed, slightly unfocused and…dazed?
She nudged him and he snapped his gaze to hers as if he’d been doing…or thinking something he shouldn’t.
“What now?” he asked.
“Now we get Derrick some backup. You included.”
“Emma,” he said, straightening. “I’m not leaving you alone.”
She grabbed his arm and pulled him out of the room. “I won’t be. Come on.”
NCIS Headquarters
Camp Pendleton, California
When Austin read the news coming out of Mexico, he closed his eyes. Derrick. Dammit. He knew it had been Derrick, although the report didn’t explicitly mention him. He knew something was up when he’d asked Austin to cover for him. When he opened his eyes, his boss was standing in front of his desk. She would have gotten the same report.
She slammed her hands down on the metal, everything reverberating. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Amber jump. She gave him a look that told him she’d read the report, as well. “Tell me I’m wrong.”
Austin thought he would go for an I-don’t-know-a-thing ploy. He looked her up and down. “Did I tell you how great you look today?” He grinned.
He looked over at Amber for support. She shook her head in a that’s-not-going-to-work way, then rolled her eyes heavenward.
“So, I think that color looks great on you. You’re rocking that…uh…red like a pro.”
She narrowed her eyes. Her voice laced with steel. “Beck…”
“So, Francisco Flores is dead,” he said in a dismissive tone. “One more scumbag out of commission. That’s a good thing.”
“Austin…”
“Okay, so Derrick may have been involved.” She growled and he held up his hands. “I don’t know.”
She let out a heavy breath. “Find him, Austin. I want to talk to him.”
Austin leaned back in his chair. This time his tone was worried and resigned. “I’ve already tried. He’s gone off the grid. He’s a ghost.”
“Son of a bitch.” Kai left and went up the stairs to TacOps. “I’ll be with the director.” The door slammed behind her.
His cell phone rang, and he answered. It was Emma St. John, and she had a plan. Austin’s tight chest began to ease. He motioned Amber toward the conference room. Once inside he put it on speaker. Emma started talking.
“You got that?”
“Yeah,” they said in unison and Austin smiled. “We hear you. We’re in.”
Jungle Near Bogotá, Colombia
If Derrick didn’t hurt so damn much, he would laugh right now. Lopez’s shipment team was in chaos after Derrick had continued his plan to make it look like Ortega was undermining Lopez’s operation. This was the third drug shipment Derrick had disrupted in a week. Word was going to filter back to Diego, and it would have Ortega’s name all over it.
He hid behind a clump of palms and brush, the humidity making sweat run off him in rivulets. Sweating in the jungle was normal, but this kind of cold sweat wasn’t. He tilted his hand away from his side and looked down.
Okay, he was chewed up, but it wasn’t bad—except the blood running through his fingers. The bullet was still in there, just under his skin and it might have skittered off one of his ribs, which would explain why he hurt so freaking bad. The jungle thrashed with Lopez’s men, looking for him. He’d never been shot, and now that he had, he couldn’t recommend it. A friggin’ ricochet. Well, at least that tree had slowed the velocity of the slug.
That was good, but the blood…yeah, the blood was a problem. He’d lost too much. He’d slapped a quick patch on himself while fleeing, but that was an hour back, and he hadn’t dared stop long enough to really bind himself up.
On the plus side, his plot was going exactly as planned. He’d called in a crap-load of favors and his shady network had come through. He’d found Ortega within a week of hitting Bogotá, thanks to Flores dropping the intel that Ortega was in bed with Diego Lopez. Now all he had to do was evade eight armed men and get to Ortega’s estate before Lopez decided to take him out of the equation. The irrefutable evidence that Derrick had already planted and was now being whispered into Lopez’s ear would seal Ortega’s fate. Lopez would kill Ortega and neutralize the threat to Matty and his family.
All that was left was to get Matty out.
With the thought of the infant, Derrick unerringly went to the last time he’d kissed and held Emma—in their hotel room in Caliche before they’d ambushed Flores. What a hell of a way to spend a vacation with the woman he loved.
He closed his eyes, his throat tight. He could only hope he’d see her again long enough to place Matty in her arms.
He’d made a calculated error. He should have asked for help. Whether he wanted to acknowledge it or not, he was part of a team. NCIS was his family! The Company, for all its faults, had given him the skills he needed to put this scheme in motion, and he was doubly grateful for the training and the experience. Without this network, without these contacts, he would have been screwed. Matty would have been lost forever and Emma and Lily devastated.
“Hold it right there,” someone said in Spanish, and he turned to find one of the men who had been pursuing him pointing his weapon, his black eyes shadowed beneath the brim of his baseball cap.
Derrick closed his eyes in anguish. He was a dead man.
The guy reached for him to jerk him to his feet, but one moment he was standing there and the next he was on the ground, his cap displaced and a suppressed shot to the back of the head—a professional shot.
Then he heard footsteps and he brought up his gun, but his hand was shaking badly right now. Robin grinned at him as he stepped over the dead man.
“What are you doing here?” Derrick asked, his eyes narrowing, happy to see Robin, but pissed he’d left Emma and Lily unguarded.
“Hey, me, my sniper rifle, my 9mm and big ass army knife were in the neighborhood, and that’s a downright unfriendly tone, man.
“Who’s watching Emma?” Derrick snapped. “And Lily?”
At the sound of Lily’s name, Robin got a look in his eye. “Even more beautiful than your babe. Even in a hospital gown, she looks like a fairy princess.”
“I will kick your ass, bullet wound, or no bullet wound.”
Robin was too busy pushing Derrick’s hand away from his side and looking at said damage. “Ooh, that looks bad. Let’s get you some medical attention, compadre.”
“What?” Maybe Derrick had lost too much blood and he was disoriented, but there were still seven men out there hunting him. “Robin. Answer the question!”
He slipped his arm under Derrick’s shoulder and hauled him to his feet. Derrick gritted his teeth and almost passed out. “Some big dude named—Tristan.”
“Michaels? Amber’s husband?”
“Yeah, that’s the guy. Former Marine sniper could bend steel with his bare hands. I think they’re covered.” He helped Derrick to sit with his back pressed to a tree.
“Well, there’s still seven guys out there trying to do me harm. I don’t want any more holes in me.”
“Roger that. Put a sock in the hole that’s flapping right now. I’ve got you covered,” he said breezily. “I brought us some friends. More big dudes and one badass smaller dude. They insisted.”
Three figures materialized out of the jungle and Derrick gaped. Austin Beck, Dexter Kaczewski, and his brother Rock, in full tactical battle gear, surrounded him. Bristling with weapons and fifty-pound packs, they were a freaking active Navy SEAL and two Marines.
Austin dropped his pack and set his rifle across it. He nodded to Derrick. “I
’m going to whittle down the odds,” he said.
“Without any weapons?”
“No, I’ll be out in the dark with a knife.” Derrick watched Austin, the surfer dude/egghead/hacker extraordinaire, melt like a seasoned commando into the jungle.
“Derrick, you look like hell,” Dex said, setting his rifle next to the tree Robin had propped him against.
“Robin the Boy Wonder said you needed help but was too bashful to ask.” Rock, a mountain of six feet, five inches of muscle, crouched down. “Don’t you know, man, you’re part of the fam? We inducted you after you saved my brother and his wife, then saved me and my wife. We’ve got your back.” He raised his fist and Derrick bumped it.
Robin was working on Derrick’s side, and when he saw the bottle, he wanted to protest, but it was too late. Robin poured on the disinfectant.
Oh, dammit, dammit, dammit. He took a sharp breath as fire burned in the wound and agony ignited in every raw pain receptor. If he hadn’t been sitting, his knees would have buckled.
“Come on, we’re in the presence of superheroes,” Robin said.
Rock patted Robin on the head. “He’s a good sidekick.”
“I’m nobody’s goddamned sidekick,” he ground out and cut off Derrick’s chuckle when he splashed more of the antiseptic into the wound. The son of a bitch.
“I’m not a superhero,” Derrick said.
“That’s right. You’re a secret agent man and a white knight, so buck up.”
This time Dexter crouched down. “Don’t worry, Derrick. We can kick his ass and you can rub salt in his wounds.”
Robin grinned and said, “I’m a lover, not a fighter,” right after he pressed a self-adhesive dressing to Derrick’s wound. This time he passed out.
When he came to, he was across Rock’s shoulders and they were heading toward a nondescript building. Austin, Robin, and Dex flanking them. There were no visible weapons, but he was sure all three of them were armed to the teeth.
Rock went through the door and as soon as the doctor saw them, he motioned them to the back. “This way, gentlemen.”
