by AJ Nuest
Until she could uncover what Ben was doing here, her smartest move would be to navigate the area like a ghost. The hour-long ride had given her plenty of time to revisit the past few days from a clearer perspective, and of all the decisions she’d made, there was one that took precedence over everything else.
Ben’s safety came first. And that included not only his physical wellbeing, but doing whatever she could to protect his career, as well.
He’d had his reasons for coming here, and given that electro-shock therapy of seeing how much a young Casper Addison looked like Trey, Tanner had no doubts they were damn good reasons at that. But without speaking to him first, there was no way she could know for sure whether or not he’d gone off the grid on purpose.
If he was intentionally ignoring his phone, she had to at least consider he might be stuck so deep inside a tricky situation he simply had no other choice. For her to follow that up by busting onto the scene with an entire task force of black and whites at her back, sirens wailing and lights flashing, would’ve only blown his cover and set him up to fail. Especially if she considered how Captain D’Avella might have sent Ben up here to play some part in an undercover narcotics investigation.
After the way she’d doubted him, there was no way in hell Tanner wanted to take a chance at dumping that professional nightmare his lap. Thankfully, once she’d asked Xander to pass on her concerns to Molly, she’d agreed that, for now, the wiser choice would be to keep their mission off the radar of the Chicago PD.
Darting another quick glance up and down the road, Tanner hunched low and snuck from the shelter of the trees. The sickening memory of sitting beside Casper in Xander’s office tapped on her brain—for what had to be the millionth time—and she mentally read herself the riot act over the way he’d hesitated the second his eyes had landed on Trey.
God, she’d been an idiot for misreading the signals. For not immediately mentioning the blip to Ben. Brushing off Casper’s reaction as simple curiosity had been dumb. Stupidity at its finest. And the only thing she’d accomplished in doing so was pitting herself against the one man she should’ve trusted all along.
If Ben ever found it in his heart to forgive her, she swore to God, she was never second-guessing his instincts again.
Jagged stones dug into her knee as she knelt in the middle of the road, centering the case and tugging open the zipper. Lifting the Styrofoam top out of the padded interior, she set it on the ground and used both hands to retrieve the drone.
A flick of the switch, and she stood, holding the device at arm’s length. “Power initiated.”
“Yep, I see it.” Xander remote-activated the four rotors, whipping the snowflakes into a frenzy that spiraled through the air. Icy wind built against her chin, and Tanner winced as the whirr of the blades gradually increased to a needling whine. “Switching over control.”
She released the craft and it hovered at shoulder height, blinking a series of colored LEDs.
“Infrared activated. Weapons on line. Going dark.” The whirring cut out and the lights quit, and she tipped her head back as the drone disappeared into an eddy of white swirls against an inked midnight sky. “Better start hoofing it. GPS shows a hair over a mile to Ben’s cell.”
“Roger, that.” And enter the second conclusion she’d come to in the last sixty minutes.
Tanner replaced the Styrofoam, jogged the case back to her bike and stowed it inside the saddle bag. Patting down the various weapons stashed around her body, she checked they were secure before retracing her footsteps to the road.
If Ben was being held against his will, whoever was responsible better have their shit locked down tight. Facing off against them didn’t scare her. In fact, the adrenaline high was something she craved.
Tightening the chin strap on her helmet, she turned and set a six-minute mile pace. “On my way. What’s my approach?”
“You’ll be coming in from the southwest, but stick to the tree line.” Xander sighed—loudly. “Heat signature is off the charts. Fifteen or more bodies. Hard to tell, since a lot of them are clustered in one spot.”
She smirked. “Only fifteen, huh? And here I was hoping for a challenge.” The reassuring weight of a modified .300 Magnum sniper rifle bounced along her back, zippers jingling in time with each of her strides. “Any of them set apart from the rest?”
If so, chances were high that’s where Ben would be.
Under surveillance. Hard to reach.
A grumble that sounded suspiciously like no wonder Archer’s always so pissed brushed her ear. “It only takes one bullet, Tanner. What’s the first rule I taught you?”
Oh, good grief. Not this again. For God’s sake, the man had insisted she strap on enough Kevlar to outfit an entire platoon. “Have I mentioned how annoying it is having you inside my head?”
“Twice.” Xander snapped. “Now what’s the first rule?”
“Disarm and disable.” Her breathing grew labored, fists swinging as the snow dragged at her boots. “Strike fast and leave your opponent no opportunity to rally.”
“Spare me a fat lip from Ben and remember that.” The rapid clicking of a keyboard accompanied Xander’s reply. “Now can the chatter and conserve your energy because you’re gonna need it. Accurate count is eighteen. Looks like a maintenance building, slight elevation from your position. Main entrance is on the east with a door leading to a sub-level on the west. Ben’s truck is parked about a hundred yards off to the right.” More rattling came off Xander’s keyboard, and he grunted. “He was smart. Must’ve locked his cell inside his vehicle ʼcause that’s where I’m picking the signal. Bodies are configured in a three-way split. We got two out front, thirteen in the middle and three triangulated near the back.”
Shit. So far, not so good.
If Tanner had to guess, Ben was one of those three—him, plus two guards. Though taking them down should be easy enough, hauling him out of there without drawing any unnecessary attention was gonna be tough. But if she could and he was able, it was hands-down guaranteed he’d move heaven and earth to get them back out again in one piece.
That was who Ben was.
A protector. Unerringly silent and strong. The kind of guy who would offer some lucky chick a foundation that would never falter.
Her heart sank past the gathering warmth in her chest, and she clenched her stiff fingers until her knuckles ached.
Whoever she was, the woman wouldn’t have to waste a single breath worrying he’d ever go back on his word. She’d never have to think twice about him feeding her a line or lose any sleep over how he might stray.
Purposely betraying someone, pretending or lying for the sake of blurring the truth, those things were not in Ben’s DNA. Even after knowing how angry his silence had made her, he’d still kept quiet. Even after repeatedly trying to talk her out of jumping to a bunch of stupid conclusions, he’d still opted for saying nothing rather handing her a snow job so he could appease her and send her on her way.
And what had she done in return? She brushed off his concerns as if they didn’t matter. She’d argued with him and wasted a bunch of time and energy playing silly games. She’d acted like a complete bitch despite how there had once been a time in her life she would’ve given anything to have a man with Ben’s stoic strength standing beside her.
The memory of her father’s smiling blue eyes swam into focus before the unspoiled landscape of the snow-covered trees. The same time-worn grief that always accompanied her failure knotted at the base of her throat and her vision blurred.
The way she’d acted wasn’t right. Too many sacrifices had been made for her to take the heartbreak that had brought her to this place for granted. Enemies, nothing more than strained business partners or whatever she and Ben became moving forward, her being here. At this very moment. Was only one tiny ripple in a sea of adversity that stretched far beyond the two of them.
She couldn’t ignore that. She’d promised herself a long time ago she was done running from duty
or washing her hands of any involvement like she had on the day her father had died. If her actions in the face of that tragedy had taught her anything, it was that dodging fate’s plan led to nothing but disappointment. The constant wish she could go back and undo her mistakes.
Regardless of how angry Ben got that she’d come to his rescue. No matter how much he stomped around, grumbling that she’d put herself in danger on his behalf, she wasn’t causing herself that same nightmare again.
Not after becoming so attached to the way he looked at her. Not after all the wondering over what his kiss had meant. And not after living with the hope that once she found out why he was here, he might be open to exploring more between them.
No. From here on in, things were gonna be different.
She and Ben had been standing on shaky ground long enough.
“You’re coming up on three hundred feet.” Xander’s voice crackled in her ear as she rounded a bend.
Four bright lights pierced the storm in the distance, and Tanner quickly ducked to the side and veered into the woods. “Copy, that. I got visual.”
She checked the perimeter from behind a felled tree and narrowed her eyes as the dim outline of Ben’s Ford Raptor formed past the disorientating static of the snow. Several feet ahead and slightly off ninety degrees from her location, the hood and cab each boasted three inches of cover from the way he’d parked just outside the shelter of the trees.
Worst case scenario—check and check again.
“He’s been here a while. Since before the storm, if the stack decorating his truck is anything to go by.” Which meant it was anyone’s guess what kind a shape he would be in once she got inside.
The thought alone had anger seizing her throat in its suffocating squeeze. She jerked down the zipper on her jacket and rooted around inside her breast pocket for a set of compact, hi-def binoculars. “Wish I’d sharpened my knife. They hurt him and, I swear to God, I’m going Lorena Bobbitt on every dick in that building.”
“Jesus.” In the stark silence that followed, an image of Xander’s pale grimace filled her head. “I never should’ve continued your training.”
Tracking the angle of Ben’s truck, she inched left to scan the clearing toward the maintenance building, then tipped up her visor and tried again. But with all the interference from the weather, she couldn’t get a clear shot at the four goons who were supposedly watching the outside. “I need to get closer.”
“Ten-four. No movement on thermal imaging, but real-time optics are a bitch. Be careful, Tanner. I’m pretty much flying blind up here.”
“Then pull back and keep your hand on the stick.” Darting from one trunk to the next, she navigated the treacherous footing toward the bed of Ben’s truck. “I don’t want them spotting you until I’m ready.”
The delicate white line balanced along the gate gave way under the press of her gloves. Wedging her boot on the rear bumper, she climbed inside and snuck forward to peer over the roof.
Yep, there were two of the four men, standing on either side of the building’s front door. Black combat gear dressed them from head to toe, holstered side arms strapped to their outer thighs. Full face masks kept their identities hidden and billed caps shaded their eyes.
She panned left but, despite the glowing halogens illuminating the area, the building’s southwest corner obstructed her view of the basement entrance. “I need a distraction.” Setting the binoculars near her foot, she braced one knee on the bed and carefully slid the Magnum over her shoulder. “Let’s see if we can rearrange the pieces on the board a little.”
“One close encounter, coming up.”
About a hundred paces off to her right, the drone’s multi-colored lights blinked and spun, holding steady above the tops of the trees. Lifting the scope to her eye, Tanner huffed a laugh as the guards exchanged a glance and then pointed.
A condensed beam of white light shot down from the sky as Xander slowly lowered the drone toward the forest floor.
“Come on,” she whispered. “Go check out the funny aliens. They come in peace.”
The dude on the left spoke into the radio clipped to his shoulder and took off at dead heat into the woods.
“Bingo.” Tanner zeroed in on the one on the right, filled her lungs and unloaded a dart juiced with enough ketamine to tranquilize a charging rhino. The barb implanted in the side of his neck, and he dropped to his knees. An unsteady sway back and forth, and he face-planted the snow. “Don’t let the bed bugs bite.”
She swung left and waited. Zipped back right and then left again. Shit, the muted pop of the discharge should’ve drawn enough attention to—
A third guard inched around the side of the building, knees bent and his weapon drawn, and the Magnum’s barrel dug into her cheek as she smiled. “These guys are lining up like a row of metal ducks at the fair.”
Pulling a breath, she exhaled with a measured press of the trigger, and his shoulder wrenched back with a loud oomph. The bill of his cap was knocked askew as he stumbled into the brick wall and slid to the ground.
“Two down, two to go.” And that’d have to be good enough for now because the clock was officially ticking. Swinging the Magnum over her head, she shoved it in the case, grabbed the side of Ben’s truck and hopped to the ground. “I’m heading in.”
She sprinted across the clearing, flakes puffing around her shins. Checking the woods and front door, she gritted her teeth as the incline increased.
“Put a hitch in it, Tanner. We got activity inside and I’m not sure how long I can hold ʼem.”
Dammit. Sidling up to the building, she pried her helmet off her ears and then lowered her zipper a few extra notches. A quick finger-comb of her hair, and she grabbed the mouthpiece and stepped around the corner.
The guard spun to face her, his Ruger leveled at her chest.
Smiling wide, she batted her lashes with a friendly wave. “Well, hi there. How are you doing?”
He hesitated and she swung. A sharp crack echoed off the trees, the crown of her helmet catching the bottom of his jaw. His head ratcheted back and she swung again, smacking his chin left. Arms pin-wheeling, he teetered forward then back, and she poked the center of his chest to help him to the ground.
“Ugly, but effective.” Squatting beside his prone body, she ransacked his pockets but came up empty. Dammit…keys, the keys, and she didn’t have time to go search the other bodies.
The wink of a silver chain caught her eye, and she wound it through her fingers, snapping it off his neck with a hard yank. Yes. Relieving his hand of his sidearm, she shoved to her feet and then eyed his face to make sure he was still down for the count.
That black eye. She frowned. Weird, it would seem familiar. Pivoting for the door, she slipped the key into the lock and cringed as the hinges creaked open. Hard to tell with the mask he was wearing, but she wasn’t about to stand around, sorting through her mental inventory, trying to figure out when or even if she’d run into him before.
The wooden stairwell led to a packed, dirt floor. Abandoning her helmet on the landing, she quickly descended. Right arm bent at ninety degrees, she braced the butt of the Ruger against the heel of her left hand, one ear tuned for any movement outside the door.
Minimal lighting kept the bottom half of the cinderblock walls in shadow. The mossy air held a metallic taint, the sour stench of sweat and an earthy trace of eight-legged creepy crawlies that always gave her the willies.
A mish-mash of lawn equipment had been stacked to the rafters. Her foot hit the bottom riser, and she swung left then right. Rusty metal chains, gardening shears and gutted chainsaws that could’ve easily supplied the props list for any B-movie horror reel.
She eased around a mound of whatever was hidden under a canvas tarp and her eyes landed on Ben. He stood tied to one of the wooden posts running the length of the building. Head hanging. Chin propped on his bare chest. A series of dark bruises marred what appeared to be a block of serial numbers inked along the washboard a
bs of his torso and his thick arms were wrenched behind his back.
Sweet Jesus. “Ben!” Her harsh whisper filled the space as she raced forward. Please, dear God, let her not be too late.
The slam of a door echoed above her. Heavy footsteps as chair legs scraped the floor. A deep voice barked orders, and Ben jerked his head up as she neared.
Goddamn it, they’d beaten him.
A bloodied gash spliced his forehead. Red welts lined his jaw.
But the depths of his bottomless brown eyes were clear—thank God—and, in usual Archer fashion, he aimed a menacing scowl at her from under his brows.
Tears stung the back of her throat. Relief nearly had her weak-kneed. And damned if the anger deepening the scar near his left eyebrow didn’t make her heart wanna stand up and burst into song. “Tanner, what are you doing here?”
“Are you okay?” She cupped his scruffy cheek, ran her hand down the corded tendons in his neck and shoulder to grip his arm. “Ben, who did this to you? Was it Casper?”
His skin was cool through her glove, but he didn’t seem sluggish, and the rock-hard swell of his bicep tightened under the leather. Heck, if anything, the coiled tension simmering off of him said he was prepping to rip someone’s head off.
Most likely hers.
“Jesus, woman, this is the last place you should be.” He lowered his forehead to hers and her pulse leapt as worry, gratitude and a whole list of other emotions she couldn’t name glittered in his gaze. “I oughta kick your ass.”
Yep, he was good. But the even better part was how his voice was laced with enough tenderness there was no mistaking how glad he was to see her.
She tried to hold back a grin and failed. “My manicurist had to cancel so I figured what the hell.”
God, she wanted to kiss him. To wrap her arms around him and hold him until all the misunderstandings between them disappeared.
Jamming the Ruger in the waistband of her leather pants, she rounded the pole, plucked a hooked combat knife from her boot and severed the plastic rip-tie around his wrists. “Although, the next time you decide to get captured and beaten, a heads up would be nice. Makes it easier for a girl to rearrange her schedule.”