by Norris, Kris
Chapter Five
That word. Clusterfuck. Definitely the recurring theme tonight, because it just kept getting worse. Not realizing someone had spiked Kam’s drink had been bad enough. Letting down his guard by finishing off that damn drink and allowing himself to get drugged…
Christ, Six would never live this down. No doubt his buddies would be searching for a new nickname because his damn sixth sense had been playing catch-up all night. Of course, he had to keep them both alive in order to regret the teasing, which was getting harder by the second.
Six scanned the area—noted the other black SUV skidding through a one-eighty as it cut off a truck, getting clipped on one side before heading back toward them. He mapped out their best route then took off running. He would have liked to have grabbed one of the fucker’s weapons, but with how slowly Kam was moving, he’d known there wasn’t time. Not if he hoped to get a healthy head start—maybe lose them in the crowds or one of the casinos.
Kam dragged a bit behind him but ran faster than he’d anticipated based on how dazed she was. Whatever drug they’d put in her drink hadn’t come close to dissipating—not if she was more concerned about flirting with him than getting shot. Her short term memory was non-existent. As if she’d already forgotten they’d been abducted. Had just crashed in the damn Suburban and were actively running from armed men. The Kam he knew would have been charting out strategies. Calculating their best course of action. How to get someplace safe to call Cannon—get some kind of help their way. Hell, Six was pretty sure Lance would drop everything and ride over if Six could just get to a damn phone.
They’d taken everything he’d had on him. Or maybe they’d just left it at the hotel room. He didn’t remember much until they’d shoved him into the SUV. He’d managed to drag himself back from the fog, access the situation, which had been worse than he’d thought. Armed men in the vehicle with additional forces in another Suburban in front of them. And that’s what he’d seen. God knew if there were more—others who had gone ahead or had tagged behind. For all he knew, they’d put a tracker on him. On Kam. Were following their every step. And the words he’d been able to translate on the short drive… The men clearly wanted Kam in connection with some kind of information gathering. He was sure he’d heard them say “thumb drive” and “safehouse” and what he thought translated to “operative”.
Time to worry about that later. After he’d gotten them to safety. Kept their asses in one piece and, until Kam was back to normal, she wasn’t going to be much help. Though, she’d blocked that one guy’s punch and caught him in the jaw. Hopefully, that meant some part of her brain was at least firing on muscle memory. That she’d be able to defend herself, again, if necessary. But based on how slow she’d moved, she’d gotten insanely lucky.
Not that it mattered. She wasn’t going to get another scratch. Not on his watch. He’d regained enough of his senses for both of them. True, his head still felt off. Vision occasionally blurring. And a few of his steps nearly took him to the ground, but he’d fight through. Keep pushing forward because he was not going to let these assholes take her. And if that called for a few extreme measures, he was up for the task.
Six darted across the street, heading for the crowds ambling along the Strip. He wasn’t sure if weaving through the throngs of people would help or hinder their progress, but he needed to put some obstacles and distance between them and the other men before he committed to taking them inside. Being in a building limited his options, and right now, he needed to keep as many of those open as possible.
Kam trailed behind him, doing her best to keep up, but it was obvious the drugs were making that difficult. Every fourth or fifth step, she’d trip slightly, yanking on his arm, nearly pulling free. No way in hell he was letting go. Not when he knew that connection was what kept her on her feet. Kept them running. He’d pick her up once they got somewhere they could disappear, but for now, he needed his other hand free. Needed to be able to fight at a moment’s notice, and with how inconsistent his sixth sense had been lately, he couldn’t rely on it to give him that extra few seconds of warning.
Fine. He’d do it the old fashioned way. Rely on his Delta skills. The ones that had seen him to hell and back. Had kept him and his teammates—his brothers—alive. Fighting.
Six hit the corner, turned left and headed along the Strip. Endless neon lit up the darkness, a wall of people lining the streets. Christ, it was well after midnight. More likely nearing one o’clock. Yet, it could have been noon on a Saturday. Wasn’t New York supposed to be the city that never slept?
Tires squealed in the distance. Close. But not behind him. In front. Six got a flash of a similar black SUV. Guns. More of those foreign words. Which meant… Shit, another car. Another set of armed men out for blood. His, not Kam’s. They needed her alive. But now that they knew he had skills—wasn’t some weekend warrior or a guy she’d picked up at the bar for a hot, one-night stand—Six suspected they wouldn’t hesitate to kill him.
And Kam would be powerless to stop them from taking her. Sure, she might get in a strike or two. Might even take out a couple of guys if her reflexes kicked in enough to react to their attacks. But if there were two vehicles left—and there was no damn way the other had gotten in front of him. Not on the Strip. There were upwards of eight to ten men still hunting them.
Damn, he could really use some backup. Just one of his teammates would be sufficient. Or that British ex-Spec Op guy, Gibson. Any of them would be enough to tip the scales in his favor. Hell, Kam without the drugs would have had his back. Kicked some serious ass. Instead, failure meant he’d lose more than his life. He’d lose hers.
Focus, man. Evade and escape. Engage only when necessary. Use any means available.
Right, except that he was in the middle of Las Vegas, unarmed, still slightly drugged trying to drag the woman he’d fallen hopelessly for down the damn Strip. One filled with people, half of which were staggering as bad as Kam was. Avoiding them was proving more than a bit difficult. And the last thing he needed was to start a fight with some drunken cowboy he accidentally plowed into.
In a perfect world, Six would slow down. Blend in. And if it was only his ass on the line, he would. But he wasn’t going to risk Kam’s life when he wasn’t sure how convincing they could be. That he could cover every angle when he had to watch her back as well as his. When he knew the price of failure.
He hit the first gathering of people and started weaving. Left. Right. Doubling some directions. Leading them through the masses. Kam followed, bumping into the odd person, but she managed a mumbled apology. Didn’t start any fights. They were several feet back from the next cross street when a black Suburban cut through traffic, barely missing a truck as it screeched to a skidding stop on the far side of the road.
The chassis rocked to a halt as four men jumped out, gazes focused on him and Kam. Six took a step back only to get knocked to one side by a large group of tourists snapping photos and talking way too fast. Six pulled Kam close, ready to shield her if bullets started flying, when horns blared, a couple of people banging on the Suburban’s hood as they detoured around the vehicle, continuing across the street. The men reached under their jackets, scanned the crowd, then let their arms fall to their sides.
Seemed they weren’t willing to open fire with a few dozen witnesses around. Which made sense. Between cell phones, CCTV from local establishments and traffic cams, it would be nearly impossible to avoid getting caught mowing down a crowd. It also meant they’d have to beat Six at hand-to-hand. Looked as if his luck was changing.
Shouts erupted behind him, a couple of obscenities followed by a word in that dialect—thuds from people tripping to the pavement. Six didn’t need to turn around to know it was the men from the other vehicle. The one that had fishtailed to catch up to them. And if there were four in that group, too—it was eight against one. Six glanced at Kam. One and a half. And not the kind of odds he wanted when all it would take was missing one punch—not bl
ocking a kick or needing three strikes instead of two—and they’d be able to grab Kam. Escape while he was dealing with the rest of the men.
Not many options.
So, he tightened his hold and started running, again. Faster than before. Kam’s arm locked around his so she couldn’t fall. She mumbled something but stayed with him. They crossed two streets, hit the pavement then veered sharply, heading back toward the main road. Six barely slowed as he darted out into traffic, getting them across the main thoroughfare without dying. A few time-slip glimpses definitely helped as they hit the other side and made for the parking lot of the next casino. Based on the damn Eiffel Tower occupying a ton of real estate, they were at some Paris wannabe resort. Not that it mattered. Moving mattered. Staying ahead of the footsteps racing behind him. In sync with theirs. Were they catching up? Those steps falling quicker. The taps getting closer.
Shit, they’d followed better than he’d hoped. Had navigated the road almost as swiftly. He needed a distraction. Something to give them the edge. Allow him to eliminate a couple of the men, if possible. A valet was stacking luggage up ahead. Twisting back to grab more out of the back of a taxi. Six skimmed past, snagged one of the silver polls on the cart and spun it out behind him. It wasn’t much but it meant the men either had to go around the vehicle or try to jump through it.
A crash behind him meant one of them had tried. And failed. Worked for him. He hit the main doors, continuing into the lobby before turning toward the casino. He needed the biggest crowds he could find and that generally meant gambling.
Six slowed, wrapping one arm around Kam’s waist as they walked into a group of tourists gawking at the surroundings. He shifted in behind them, keeping them hidden behind three of the larger men in the group. In fact, they were all men.
Worked for him. Kam stumbled against him, smiling when he cupped her chin—lifted her gaze to his. Christ, she was even more stunning, now. Flushed cheeks. Hair completely windswept. It had fallen out of her ponytail somewhere between the Suburban and now, and seeing all the golden and copper locks spilling over her shoulders, a few strands clinging to her cheeks—fuck, it took his breath away. Just like that. Locked up in his chest. Lord knew it hadn’t been the run. He’d gone harder and farther in the service, but damn, it felt as if he’d ran a marathon. His heart thundering against his ribs. A clammy sweat along his palms.
Not the time...
Six winced at the harsh voice inside his head but managed to focus beyond the beauty standing next to him. Looking as if she wanted to pounce on him, right there in the middle of the casino. Hell, he’d love that, too, but not even remotely possible. Nothing was going to happen until he had his brothers backing him up. Had sentries posted. Wasn’t worried some fucker would try to attack them while he lost himself in her mouth. God, it was perfect. Full lips. More pink than red, now, with the flesh wet from her dragging her tongue across it.
Drawing his gaze away from her shouldn’t have taken the amount of willpower it had. Used up some hidden reserve he’d subconsciously been saving for this exact task. Staring at something other than Kam.
Four men entered the lobby, scouring the area before heading toward the slot machines. Just right of where Six had them still hidden behind the group of men now discussing where they’d eat. What shows they wanted to see.
Now would be the time to branch off. Eliminate those assholes. But that meant leaving Kam alone. Unguarded. If that other group came in while he was still dealing with these guys, she’d be taken.
Six palmed the small of her back then continued along the Paris-like streets inside the building. Left at the next junction, then around behind a structure that housed one of the tower’s base frames, looking for an alternate exit. They reached the other side when the far doors spun open, four more faces he recognized walking through.
Six veered right without stopping, heading for a large gathering of people inside a roped off area. If he could slip in behind them, they might actually disappear.
A man dressed in a hotel uniform stepped out, smiling at Six. “You two sure are cutting it close. But I had a couple leave so I have one ticket available.”
Six looked at the man’s hand then at the banner beside him. Seemed the hotel was giving away an all-inclusive wedding package every hour for the rest of the night, including an observation-deck ceremony, choice of costume attire, a free room plus photos. In fact, they were filming the entire event as part of the promotion—broadcasting it across the closed-circuit televisions scattered around the room.
A couple of angry shouts cut through the din of conversation. Had Six glancing over his shoulder. All eight men had fanned out across the corridor—were heading their way.
Six mumbled a hushed, “Thanks,” took the ticket then wove through the crowd, stopping when he had a wall to his back. He might not be able to fully disappear, but at least the men could only attack from the front. No surprises.
A young couple looked over at them, frowned, the guy leaning closer. “Is your fiancée okay? She looks a bit flushed. And are you bleeding?”
Christ. His…fiancée.
Six grinned, accepting the wipe the woman offered him before cleaning off his face. “We nearly didn’t make it. Had to run the last few blocks. Took an elbow to the head, but we’re fine. Thanks.”
The woman giggled. “It’s funny what we’ll all do for a free wedding, right? I just hope our ticket wins, next.”
Six nodded, tugging Kam closer. She leaned heavily against him, her head connecting with his chest before she jerked it up. Damn, she was close to passing out, again. Which made sense. All that running had most likely pumped the drugs through her system, increasing the effects. Things would definitely get worse before they got better.
She smiled up at him, drawing that delicate finger across his shoulder. “When are you going to kiss me?”
After we say, “I do.”
He groaned as his only course of action took hold. If they won the contest, they’d be safe. At least, for tonight. With all the publicity and photos, not even these mercenaries would be stupid enough to make a move. And it seemed they got a personal escort to the tower then back to their room. Once inside, Six could call for backup. Finally get some muscle on his side.
Of course, the chances they’d have the winning ticket…
Six dropped a chaste peck on her forehead. “Soon, sweetheart. Just hold out a little longer, okay?”
Her eyes fluttered a few times, but she managed another smile, resting her cheek on his shoulder. And damn it shouldn’t feel that right. That electric. Like being hit with a lightning bolt. Straight to his heart. Making the hairs on his arms rise.
Though, that was probably just the realization they were screwed. His back both figuratively and literally against the wall. He could ask to borrow a phone, but Lance’s number was in his wallet. And somehow he doubted the couple standing next to them knew the number for the Marshal service—Lance’s personal cell.
Six could simply dial nine-one-one. But he had no way of knowing how the creeps would react to cops showing up. The S.W.A.T. team Six wanted there five minutes ago. If the group would decide to turn this into a bloodbath or a hostage situation. Which confirmed his previous assessment.
They needed to win the damn raffle.
A blast of static echoed through the casino, a guy on a raised dais tapping the mike. “Okay, happy couples, get out your tickets. The next draw is only a minute away.”
Six scanned the area. Upwards of twenty couples gathered in the small space, one in each pairing digging into their pocket—removing the same fancy ticket he had in his hand. The men who’d been chasing them stood on the fringes, scouring every face in the crowd. Leaving was out. A gun to Kam’s side and Six would have to play along. He could take them out. Not a problem. But whether he could fight and watch Kam’s back was the question. And not a risk he was willing to take.
Instead, he cleared his mind. Calmed his breathing. All he needed was a flash of
the winning couple. A face or article of clothing. Some small nuance to tip him off. Give him a chance to swap their ticket out.
The timer behind the announcer ticked down, numbers flashing thirty.
Enough time to make a difference if he could just make it happen. Not that it worked that way. He’d never had control over these time leaks. Had simply learned to recognize them and react. Catalogue the odd one that was too far in the future for him to immediately act on. More of a general warning.
Twenty seconds.
Nothing. Not a whispered word. A tingling sensation down his spine. A flash of color.
Fifteen.
Had his vision flickered for a moment? Was it the residual drugs coming back? Threatening to drop him to the floor, again? Eliminate any chance of making it out of here alive?
Twelve seconds.
Another flash. Not like before. Like in the hallway, all blurry and slow. A man. Smiling. Looking down at a woman. Brown hair. Heart-shaped face.
Ten.
The woman’s eyes lit up as she jumped into her partner’s arms, the guy spinning her around, nearly knocking into…them.
Shit, it was the nice couple beside Six. The one who’d been concerned about their health. Who had probably been waiting all night for a chance at their dream wedding. Or at the least, a free wedding. Damn, he hated doing this, but Kam’s life trumped everything else.
Only eight seconds left.
Six shuffled Kam against the wall, motioning for her to stay still before shifting closer to the guy. Not overtly. More like a fluid sway of his body. A barely perceivable movement as he lifted his hand behind the guy’s head. They weren’t looking at him. They were focused on the clock. On the time counting down to five, then three.
Six struck. A hard, jab across the man’s neck accompanied by a sharp kick to the back of his knee and he was down. Eyes rolling back. A low groan rasping free.