by Ainsley Cole
* * *
The sky was still pale at the horizon when the convoy pulled up. They’d managed to make it there in a little less time than he had thought.
Bones stepped out of the Humvee, staring at the building lit up by the lights of the vehicles. Broken windows and tin roof. The walls still looked intact, but he didn’t know if it would serve as a good base of operations for long.
It’d been an old medical base, some ten to twenty years earlier. It had been abandoned and now had been left to the elements. It’d have to do.
His tongue sucked over his teeth and he turned to the team. “Secure the area, make sure the militia hasn’t left any surprises behind.”
The four men nodded and headed off in different directions, as Doctor Baker came from her vehicle. Bones turned his head, looking back at the buildings, wanting to remain in control.
“What’s going on?”
“My men are doing a sweep of the area. Making sure it’s safe before I allow you to start taking in supplies.”
“And how long will that take?”
“Ma’am.” Bones turned to her. Abigail had taken off her sunglasses and was now staring at him with huge doe eyes. Rimmed with dark kohl and long dark eyelashes, they screamed innocence, and he lost his voice.
“Mr. Roberts?”
He blinked, turning his head from her and gulped. He wasn’t going to make it. This woman was going to be the death of him.
“As long as it takes,” he managed to choke out, stepping away from her. “Please stay with the others until the area is secured.”
Walking toward the main building, he could feel her eyes on him. The lingering sensation of someone watching. He tried not to trip over his size eleven riot boots and land face first in the sand. It wouldn’t have been a good look.
“Boss.”
Wolf’s voice came over the intercom, loud in his ear and he almost jumped out of his own skin. Lifting his hand, he pressed the small mic on his throat. “What, Wolf?”
“Area’s secure. If the militia left anything behind, they’ve hidden it well. I can get Queenie to do a sweep at first light, but I think it’s safe enough to move in the supplies.”
“And what about you, Apollo? Queenie? Reaper?”
“All good here, boss.”
“Same.”
“Aye.”
Bones nodded, stopping his advance on the main building. Inhaling, he closed his eyes, making sure his heartrate was down. Turning on a booted heel, he looked back to the vehicles.
Abigail was leaning against the hood of the Humvee. Her ass stuck out as she pored over documents on the shiny paint, using the lights on top of the vehicle.
“Fucking, sweet hell,” he murmured to himself.
“Bones, your com is still on.”
Dropping his hand, his face heated as Queenie’s giggled voice came down the line.
They all knew he had a thing for the doctor. They’d been able to pick it up the moment she had walked into the briefing room. The way he had shifted in his seat as her silk blouse had stretched over her bosom.
“Fuck.”
Inhaling again, he made his way toward the Humvee. His gaze not on Abigail’s rounded bottom, but on the man standing to her side—a little too close for Bones’ liking.
“Doctors,” he called out as he came closer. Both Abigail and her colleagues, a man by the name of Andrew and another, Chris; stood, turning to him. Bones stopped, his rifle still clutched in his hands. “The area is secure. I’d suggest you start unloading as soon as you can. Once done, we can talk about security and our first trip to the village.”
Andrew nodded. He was a bird of a man. Tall and thin. Hair receding. He had a pinched face and a worried look, which seemed to be a constant to his features. He’d be the one too close to Abigail and Bones wondered if the man was going to be a problem. “Yes, that will be good.”
His voice matched his look. High pitched and cracking as if he’d never gone through puberty.
Chris was shorter, tubbier. With sweat stains and a heavy-set face. They scrambled to the back of the Humvee, leaving Bones standing in front of Abigail. Her brown gaze steadied on him again.
He licked his lips. “Ma’am.”
Turning to leave, he felt a hand on his forearm, and stopped. Bright fingernails sat on the sleeve of his shirt. A layer of fabric separating her skin from his—but his flesh felt as if it was on fire. “May I have a word?”
Turning his head back to her, he looked down at the small woman. “About?”
Her head turned, looking back to the vehicle. “Not here.”
She let go of his arm and stepped past him, a waft of perfume lifting to his nose.
He turned, following her toward the main building, as the generator kicked in. Queenie had started it, and he knew lights would soon follow.
Abigail stopped to the left of the main building, her body cloaked in shadows. Bones stopped near her. “Ma’am, what—?”
“How good are you and your team?”
“Excuse me?”
“If we run into trouble, how soon can you and the other four get us out of here?” Her hands went to her hips, and Bones’ gaze gravitated to it, wishing his hands were there. “I want to know my team and I are safe. That Waterford has given their money to the right security company.”
She’d found her voice against him, and if Bones could have, he would have reached out and shaken her. Her tone was condescending—something which didn’t sit well with him on the best of days. Let alone in the middle of Kenya, with militia around them. Coming from a woman he wanted to bend over the front of the Humvee and have his way with.
“Ma’am, Waterford paid my team one million dollars to get you and the other two doctors into and out of Kenya.” His tone was as toxic as hers, and she blinked. “Never, in the eleven years we have been doing this, have we ever lost a client. We have never had a casualty and you will not the first.”
Turning on his heel, he left. Not wanting to be near her, for the thought of what he would do. She had no idea what his team had been through. How many people they had taken in and out of warzones. What clientele they had done security for. He’d been the one to look after prime ministers and billionaires, the president and the pope.
“Fucking stupid woman.”
Turning the corner of the main building, he came face to face with Reaper.
Bones caught his breath. “Shit, man, you have to announce you’re there. You’re like a damn ghost.”
The huge Irishman blinked. Bright green eyes staring at him. “Perimeter’s up.”
Reaper turned, taking his dreadlocks and bulk around the side of the building.
Bones turned, looking back to the doctor who he’d had words with. She was making her way back toward the Humvee, her head down, arms crossed over her chest. He didn’t think he should have been so harsh with her. She wanted to make sure of their safety. But she didn’t need to use the tone she had.
“Bones, come to the east side. There’s something you need to see.”
Wolf’s voice was loud in his ear, and he turned. Moving toward where the man was, his thoughts slipped from the doctor for a while.
* * *
The man’s tone had been taut, and she’d gotten the picture. Behave and let them do their job.
But she’d never been one to follow orders. Which was why she’d been still sitting in a lab, after ten years of working for Waterford and not out in the field.
Sighing, she started to carry boxes into the largest of the buildings. Lighting was on and while not the best, it was still better than unloading everything in the dark.
“What do you think of our team?”
Abigail lifted her head, looking at Andrew. He leaned against the door, his sweat-stained shirt sticking to his bird-like frame. “They’re professional.”
“That’s it? What about the big one? Our driver? He’s only got one leg, you know. What happens if he’s running and he loses it?”
F
lashes of Reaper crawling along the ground on one leg came to her mind, and she blinked, looking up at Andrew. “Then you best not get left behind. He would be one to sacrifice himself with a grenade, for the team.”
The idea of Reaper setting off a grenade had Andrew paling and Abigail sniggering. She turned back to the boxes she was unpacking. Andrew left, his shoes clacking on the floor. His polished shoes and office clothes were not suitable in the heat and the dust they were going to be subject to. Had he even brought any other clothing? Even she felt over-dressed.
Turning, she headed out to the Humvee again, picking up another box. Various team members milled, setting up lights, making sure the perimeter was set.
Smiling at Reaper as he walked past, she carried the box into the lab and started to unpack it.
The little fridge, the microscopes and vials, the petri dishes. They would all be vital to the success of this mission. She had to find out what was going on. Her job depended on it.
If she failed, she’d never be allowed out into the field again.
* * *
“What is it?”
Wolf turned, looking back to him, before turning back to the horizon. “Nothing.”
Bones rolled his eyes, stepping up to the Indian. They’d been through a lot, Ethan and him.
Ethan’s grandfather had been a code talker. One of the code bearers in World War II. His childhood had been rough, his teen years destructive and he had looked to the military to get himself back on track. He’d met Bones there. Neither of them liked following orders. They’d gotten in more trouble together than either of them could deal with. Quitting just after their allotted enlistment time of eight years, they started Black Dove a year later.
“She’s getting to you.”
“Who?” Bones asked, taking the cigarette from the Indian’s hand. He lifted it to his lips, inhaling, before passing it back. He didn’t smoke often—but when Wolf offered, he didn’t reject it.
“The doctor.”
“She is not.”
“Yes. She is,” Wolf replied, stubbing the cigarette out on the ground with his boot. He kicked sand over it to make sure it didn’t flare up and cause a fire. “She’s gotten under your skin and into your mind. I know you. I know what you’re like with women. If they even stir you, they’re in your sights and end up in your bed.”
“Pfft.” Bones tried to shrug off the man’s words, but he knew Wolf was right. There was not a woman he’d met who he'd liked, who hadn’t ended up under him, or on top of him.
“Are you willing to put everyone in danger because you want her?”
Bones turned his gaze to Wolf. The small breeze which had picked up, stirred through his thick beard, cooling his skin. “That won’t happen.”
“Won’t it?” Wolf asked, turning his gaze back to the horizon. “Out there somewhere is the local militia. They would have found out by now that we are here. They’ll know we’re here to help the village. They’ll know we carry medical supplies. That puts everyone in danger. If they come after us with their full army, we have no defense.”
“We have Reaper.” Bones chuckled.
“Joshua is not enough to take on close to five-hundred militia. You know that. Stop being an ass.” Wolf’s words cut his laughter and Bones sighed.
“Look, we got paid to bring the medical supplies in here and then get the doctors out when they need to leave. I plan on doing that.”
“And Doctor Baker?” Wolf asked, turning to him again. In the light thrown from the camp behind them, the man looked dangerous. Bones knew he wouldn’t want to take him on. They’d sparred in the past, and Wolf had kicked his ass.
“What about her?”
“Can you keep yourself controlled? Follow the mission? Can you treat her like one of the others? Can you keep your hands and your cock to yourself?”
Bones’ eyebrow rose, his tongue sucking over his teeth. “I can.”
“Bullshit.”
“Wolf,” Bones warned, and it was the Indian’s turn to raise an eyebrow.
“I know you. Don’t pretend I don’t. I want to know—when the shit hits the fan, can you save everyone—not only her.”
* * *
“I’m beat.” Abigail lifted her gaze to Andrew, rolling her eyes. “I’m a doctor, not a construction worker. I’m not used to this hard, manual labor.”
“It’s not that bad. Geez.” She looked back down to her files, making sure she had them in order. She’d be out in the field proper tomorrow. She needed all her wits about her.
“Coming from someone who works out too much,” Andrew piped up. “You do know muscles on women aren’t attractive, right?”
Abigail pursed her lips together and looked up. Andrew was sporting a lovely shade of red from the heat and it darkened further when she rose an eyebrow and leaned back in her chair. “It’s not.” He turned, walking out of the labs, leaving Chris in the larger room.
Sighing, Abigail lifted herself out of her chair and crossed to the door, looking out at the tubby man. At least he wouldn’t try and crack onto her. He’d be more likely to go the feminine-looking Queenie. “Chris, are you heading to bed?”
He turned, pale blue eyes staring at her and, as much as he was dead on his feet, he shook his head. “No. I can help a bit longer. We want this up and running for tomorrow, don’t we?”
She smiled. That’s what she had liked about Chris from the moment she had met him a few years earlier. Always willing to help. “Sure, why don’t we start with those boxes?”
Moving through the larger room, she told Chris where to put each box. Medical instruments and supplies still had to go into the room for autopsies.
“Do you think we’re going to find out what’s happening?”
Shrugging, Abigail pushed a box to the side, and Chris picked it up, taking it toward her lab. “I don’t know. I’d like to think that it’s something natural. Not manmade, or old. We don’t want another Ebola outbreak.”
“And if it is?”
“It’s not behaving like it. I don’t know what it is.”
“And the team? Do you think they’ll keep us safe?” Chris had always been the worrier. His hygiene was perfect. His nails and hair short, his hands always clean. He worried about the weather, the food in Waterford’s cafeteria, the downturn in the economy. He worried about everything. So it was only fair of him to worry about their safety.
“I don’t think anything will happen to us. Black Dove is a good team. One of the best, I’ve heard. We’ll be fine. It’ll all be over before you can blink.” She smiled, and Chris returned the gesture.
“Okay, you’re always so optimistic.”
He gushed, and she giggled. Turning back to the boxes, she tried to keep her mind on the task. Clear away the boxes and make sure everything was ready. But why did her mind keep going back to ex-Major Roberts?
Chastising herself, she picked up another box and tried to keep herself busy.
* * *
Near on two a.m. and the only light was in the main clinic building. Everyone who wasn’t on first watch should have been asleep.
Bones opened the door, stepping inside.
“Put that crate over there.”
Abigail was barking orders to Chris. The man wasn't even awake enough to stand.
Bones stepped forward, taking the box from the doctor. “Go to bed. I will finish this.”
The doctor nodded, stifling a yawn, and wandered from the room. He lifted the crate to the position Abigail had directed and turned.
She was standing there, staring. Her gaze shifted from his beard to his eyes. Her face flushed the pretty shade of red which she wore when she was around him.
“Doctor.”
“Uh.” She hesitated.
Bones tipped his head to the side. What did she see when she looked at him? Did she see his bright blue eyes—almost the same color as a naked flame? The huge biker beard which came down to sit against his chest? The tattoos which wound along his skin, covering almost
every single inch of his tanned flesh? “Are you okay?”
Her face flushed again, and the corner of his mouth turned up in a smirk as she turned her head away, looking at the crates. “Uh, yes. That crate needs to go into that far room.”
“Sure.”
Bones stepped past her, lifting the crate to his chest. It was heavy, but he managed to get it to the room without too much strain. Dumping it to the floor, he turned. She had followed him and was now standing at the door, her gaze on him again, and her gaze lifted to meet his.
She looked away, turned, and started to unpack one of the other crates.
Bones watched her for a moment. She’d been so cold and harsh to him outside earlier. Condescending and demanding. What had changed in the hours since?
“Ma’am?”
“Huh?” Her gaze met his, and Bones’ body lit up with the innocence it emitted.
“Is there anything else you would like help with?”
Her tongue poked out, licking along her plump lips, before biting it. Bones had to stop himself from groaning. What he would love to do to those lips…
Wolf’s words came back to him, like a stinging slap to his face. The thoughts of her mouth wrapped around his cock disappeared in an instant. He had to prove this fetish was under control. “Ma’am?”
“Uh, no. It’s fine,” she muttered, turning her head away. “You can go and get some sleep. Thank you, ex-Major Roberts.”
“Bones.”
“What?” she asked, looking back to him, confusion flitting across her features.
“My callsign. It’s Bones. Ex-Major doesn’t fit out here. Plus, it’s a bit of a mouthful to get out in a hurry. And operationally, we don’t like to use real names. So, it’s Bones.”
“Bones,” she murmured, and he nodded, smiling.
“Yes, ma’am.”
“Okay,” she murmured. “Thank you, Bones.”
“Ma’am.” He nodded, stepping past her, walking out of the room and through the clinic. Leaving the building, he sought out the others.
Reaper was in the east, keeping watch on the way in from the village. They wouldn’t hear a peep out of him all night. He was good like that. Give him a task, and he wouldn’t stop until completed, or his orders changed.
The man was their rock.