Explosive Vengeance

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Explosive Vengeance Page 8

by Kaylea Cross

“Sure, but no guarantee she’ll respond. You know how it goes.”

  Megan grinned. “I do. But we’re not operating alone anymore.” She reached for Chloe’s hand, curled her fingers around Chloe’s. “I’m so damn glad to see you,” she whispered, voice rough and her eyes a little shiny.

  The back of Chloe’s throat ached. “Me too, Itch.” After a second she pulled her hand free and changed the subject. She craved the friendship so much it scared her a little. She didn’t want to get hurt if things wound up not working out. “So, tell me more about this Heath guy you sent after me.”

  “Ty says he’s the best. They did security contracting jobs together all over the place, and went through tight situations together. Ty loves him like a brother.”

  Another complication for her to worry about. “And since he’s been linked to me, now he’s likely under threat too.”

  Megan nodded with a sigh. “I know. Ty’s talking to him about everything right now.”

  “Everything?”

  “Everything. Ty trusts Heath with his life, and that tells me everything I need to know about the guy. He deserves to know everything now that we’ve dragged him into this, and Ty wants to bring him on board our team anyway.” She patted Chloe’s knee. “We should go see them. We’ll catch up more later.”

  Heath’s piercing blue gaze locked on her the moment she stepped out of the bedroom. He was sitting on the sofa beside Ty, his expression unreadable. But those eyes. They practically saw inside her, and it was a strange, unsettling feeling to know this near stranger knew all about her and her identity and background when only a handful of others did. It was also freeing, in a way.

  “So now you know,” she said to him, feeling sort of naked.

  He nodded once, his expression betraying no hint of judgment. “Now I know.”

  “And will you help us?” Megan asked, sinking onto the loveseat opposite them.

  “My next contract starts in another couple weeks in Syria. I can’t push it back or just drop it.”

  “That’s assuming you’re not a target now too, because if you are, you might not be able to leave,” she said.

  Heath acknowledged the point with a nod. “I’m in until I leave for Syria.” His gaze shifted to Chloe. “What about you?”

  His leaving in a matter of weeks wasn’t as appealing as it should have been for someone like her. But she hadn’t been interested in anyone in forever, and he… He was definitely interesting. “I’ll help where I can. But I can’t commit to the team yet. I’ve got something I need to take care of first.”

  “Such as?” He raised a dark eyebrow.

  “There’s a shipment of women coming into Marseille three days from now. I need to be there to intercept them.” That’s how it always worked. She showed up to verify the women were there, representing the buyer. Once she handled the money transfer—to her own offshore account—she got the women to safety and let Fleur take over.

  “You mean trafficking victims,” Heath said, anger bleeding into his expression.

  “Yes. I intercept them, get them to safety, and then a friend of mine steps in and helps them from there.”

  “Why you?”

  “Because Dubois and people like him behind this sort of shit are unfortunately above the law—because they pretty much own all the law enforcement and politicians around the country. They’re rich, they’re powerful, and they don’t give a damn about anything but themselves. That’s where I come in.” She crossed her arms, resentment building inside her. “I operated for years on my own doing the jobs I was assigned, answering only to my handler, who’s now dead. My targets were the heads of organizations. Men who ran weapons and drugs—and women.”

  It still sickened her, even after all this time. “Nobody ever cared about the women, or what happened to them. They only cared about the money those women brought that in turn bought more weapons and drugs, which in turn funded organized criminal and terrorist activity. Men like Dubois were a means to an end, for me and the government, funneling us to higher value targets. Men like him were never punished. Now I make sure they are.” She gave him a thin smile. “I deliver the punishment they deserve.”

  Heath was silent a moment, watching her. Judging her?

  She didn’t care if he thought it was wrong. She’d seen the evil that inhabited the dark corners of the world, and refused to ignore it any longer. “If nobody else will step up to make it stop, then I will,” she said with a defensive shrug.

  “That’s one hell of a risky mission to undertake,” he said quietly.

  “Maybe, but who else is gonna do it? Too many local law enforcement groups are dirty. Here in France most of them are on Dubois’ payroll and can’t be trusted. He has eyes and ears all over the country, and probably beyond. And it has to be me, because that’s the way my friend and I have everything set up. If I don’t show when the shipments arrive, those women and girls are doomed to a living hell. Not only that, I won’t leave my friend to deal with this on her own.”

  “How much do you trust your friend?” Megan asked.

  “Completely.” Fleur was one-of-a-kind, and rock solid. Now that the Valkyrie Program was finished, Chloe was on her own. It was harder to get fake IDs, access certain databases. She moved around a lot. Fleur had helped her as much as possible, even stashing some of Chloe’s gear—weapons and other equipment—in various places for her across Paris.

  At Megan’s cautious nod, Chloe focused back on Heath. His calm, serious demeanor drew her with magnetic force, and that was one hell of an eye opener because until now she’d sought out the exact opposite in guys. This man could handle himself under pressure, she’d seen it firsthand. That was damn sexy. “It might not be too late for you, but the window’s closing fast.”

  “Not too late for what?”

  “To leave. Forget you ever saw me or heard any of this.” She held his stare, liking the calming effect he had on her restless energy far too much. “You might still be able to walk away, but you’d need to do it now.”

  His stare never wavered. “Like I said, I’m in until I leave.”

  Not only was he hot and capable, the man was selfless enough to help the others. Damn.

  Even as she thought it, she warned herself against the surge of repressed longing that swept through her. First time in forever that she’d been into a guy, and while she thought she’d caught a spark or two of interest from him tonight, she wasn’t sure he was into her. Not that she could blame him; she had held a knife to his junk when they’d met.

  “What if we help you with your current mission?” Ty offered. “Me, Megan and Heath. We help you and your friend rescue these women, then you come with us back to the UK.”

  Chloe shook her head. “This isn’t over until I bring Guillaume Dubois down. He deserves to die the same way his brother did, but it would be more satisfying to expose him and bring his filthy empire toppling down on top of him first.” She was under no illusions, however. Once she brought him down, someone would try to take his place. But whoever did would always look over their shoulder for her.

  “If we help you do that, then will you come in?” Megan said.

  Looking at her old friend, taking in the earnestness in her face and the hidden plea in her voice, Chloe considered it. But she wasn’t going to lie and say yes. “Maybe.” It was the most she could offer for now.

  Megan sighed. “I guess that’s the best I can hope for at this point. But just know I’m not giving up until I turn that maybe into a yes.”

  Chloe grinned at her. “If anyone can bring me in, Itch, it’s you.”

  Although the magnetic man across the room might have a shot at influencing her as well. The thought caused an internal burst of disquiet.

  Heath put her off-balance. In her carefully orchestrated and guarded existence, that was never a good thing.

  In her world, that kind of thing could get her killed.

  Chapter Nine

  Guillaume held his phone to his ear as he stepped into
his home office and shut the door. It was the middle of the night. He’d been waiting up for this call and didn’t want to disturb his sleeping family upstairs. “What do you mean, she’s not there?” he demanded.

  “The target house was empty and there’s no sign she’s ever been here. The signal couldn’t have come from this place,” the cop in charge of the Strasbourg raid said.

  Guillaume punched in the code to his computer with angry stabs and brought up the satellite map showing the signal they’d traced. “You read the same map I did. If the phone signal didn’t come from that house, then it had to be from one damn close.”

  “We checked the surrounding houses too. One across the street is a rental. Someone had been in it recently, but we can’t be sure if it was tonight. Forensics is working on it now. If they find any good prints, we might get a match in the database.”

  Guillaume doubted it. This woman was too fucking smart for that.

  “According to the owner, the renter only paid for one night. Whoever it was might have changed their mind.”

  Cursing under his breath, he exploded from his chair, anger pulsing hot through his veins. “It was her. You know it was.”

  “We had a secure perimeter set up around the entire block,” the cop said in a hard tone. “If it was her, no one saw her come and go.”

  “That’s because she’s trained to be a ghost,” he snapped. Dieu, now he had no idea where she was, or the man with her. “I assume you’re checking all surveillance cameras in the area?”

  “I know how to do my job. But this is a small village. We’ll be lucky if we find more than one or two.”

  He paced around the room, thinking fast. “So where’s she gone now? Germany?” If he was on the run, he would move to another country to try and evade law enforcement. And Germany was the closest border from Strasbourg. Somewhere else in France, or maybe Switzerland?

  “Your guess is as good as mine,” the man replied, irritation clear in his voice.

  Guillaume ended the call, his mind racing. The funeral he’d hurriedly put together was tomorrow; he wouldn’t be able to get much work done. The next shipment of girls Dominic had purchased was still due to arrive on schedule in Marseille. If this Gabrielle woman was a Valkyrie and knew about the shipment, she might try to stop it. She’d be stupid to come in person, but he had a feeling she might. There might be an opportunity for him to strike.

  He dialed the local inspector. “Sorry to wake you.”

  “Not at all, my friend. What can I do for you?”

  For some reason the friend comment irritated him more than it should have. They weren’t friends. The inspector pretended to be because of Guillaume’s money and influence, and that was all. He was just as likely to turn on Guillaume as the others if a better offer or the right pressure came along. “The tactical team in Strasbourg didn’t find the woman.”

  “I verified that signal myself before talking to the commander,” the inspector said, his voice shocked. “She had to have been there.”

  “If she was, she slipped past them without notice.”

  “I’ll contact my source and see if he can get another lead.”

  “Don’t bother. She’ll have ditched the phone by now.”

  “What if—”

  “Leave it alone for now,” Guillaume snapped, exhausted and heartsick. His brother would be laid to rest tomorrow but his killer was still free. It was so wrong.

  “All right. I’ll see you at the service tomorrow.”

  Guillaume grunted. “After the funeral I’ll be travelling to Marseille on business. You can reach me on my cell.”

  “I can come down and meet you there if you want. I can help facilitate the investigation.”

  “No.” It wouldn’t do to have any police involvement there when Guillaume’s men would be posing as local cops to meet the shipment. Money, bribes, blackmail and threats only went so far, and he had to be careful now. He wanted Gabrielle enough to avoid using his normal contacts. If she showed in Marseille, she was his.

  “All right. Let me know if you change your mind. In the meantime, give this some time. You just need to be patient.”

  Patient? How could he be fucking patient with something like this? His brother was dead and the woman who’d murdered him was still alive.

  Too restless and upset to sleep, he spent the next few hours combing over the evidence again, trying to find another possible clue that might lead him to his target. All he needed was to be patient?

  Fuck that.

  Chapter Ten

  “I don’t know about you guys, but I’m beat. I’m heading to bed,” Megan announced, pushing up off the sofa beside Chloe.

  Heath had been talking with the others for over an hour and now that he had some sort of clue about what was really going on here, was even more curious about these women. They were unlike anyone he’d ever met before, and he’d met all kinds during his military and contracting careers.

  Next to Heath, Ty stood and stretched his arms over his head. “Me too. See you guys in the morning.”

  “Yeah, and Chloe,” Megan said with a half-smirk, “be nice to Heath. He’s had a long day.”

  No shit. It felt more like a week had passed since he left Paris rather than ten hours. But now he got why Ty had asked him to get involved. This was way bigger than Heath had realized, and tough and capable as these women were, they were under threat from dangerous enemies and could use backup.

  “I have been nice to him,” Chloe replied as her friend walked away. “Except for the nick on his thigh.”

  Yeah, except for that. And then crushing his phone. Though he now understood why she’d done it. “Guess I’ll turn in too. I’ll take the couch,” he said to her.

  “Or we could share my bed.” She gave him another of those naughty looks and he couldn’t tell if she was serious or just trying to get a reaction out of him. She scrambled his brain.

  “You just met me.”

  She lifted a shoulder. “I’m a good judge of character.”

  Okay, he was way too tired for a battle of wits, and he wasn’t even sure what the ground rules were here anyway. “You want to use the bathroom first?”

  “You go ahead.” She turned and walked toward one of the bedrooms, so he grabbed his backpack and went into the bathroom.

  He opened the door after brushing his teeth, nearly jumped out of his skin to find her right there leaning against the jamb. She was so close he could see the warm amber flecks in her brown eyes, and smell the mint gum she was chewing. She’d changed into a pair of sleep shorts and a snug T-shirt that read Cute But Psycho across the chest.

  Accurate.

  And she wasn’t wearing a bra, the outline of her pert breasts and nipples visible against the fabric.

  “You done?”

  He wrenched his gaze up to her face. “Yeah, bathroom’s all yours.” He turned sideways to get past her but she didn’t budge. His chest brushed against her breasts on the way by, and her quiet, indrawn breath heated his blood.

  He wasn’t sure why she was so set on driving him crazy, but it was a relief when she shut the door. He took his backpack into the kitchen, rummaged through it to find his phone charger and adaptor to see if they worked with his stupid new phone, his head spinning. Chloe confused the hell out of him. One minute he thought she was nuts, and the next he was thinking about kissing that sassy mouth.

  Maybe he was nuts.

  He stiffened when the bathroom door opened and soft footfalls approached behind him. He rose, looked across the room as Chloe came closer. She’d pulled out her ponytail, leaving golden-blond waves tumbling around her shoulders, the ends brushing the tops of her pert, unrestrained breasts.

  Not. Helping.

  “You turning in?” she asked.

  He nodded. “You’re not?”

  “Not tired.”

  “Yeah, energy drinks in the middle of the night will do that to you.” With the amount of caffeine in her system, she should be up for days.


  One side of her mouth turned up. “That’s why I like ‘em. I get a crap-ton done while the rest of the world is asleep.” She sank onto the far sofa, patted the cushion next to her. “Come talk with me a minute.”

  What he should do was hit the rack, sleep, and shore up his resistance to her. Because that seemed to be fading a bit with every minute he spent in her company. What was it about her that tangled him up so much?

  He took the sofa across from her rather than accept her invitation, earning a pout. “What do you want to talk about?”

  She tilted her head, considering him. “You.”

  “What about me?”

  “I’m just trying to figure out why you’re sticking around after everything you learned earlier.”

  “Because it’s the middle of the night and I’m tired.”

  She gave him a level look. “You know what I mean. You could try to get out now, before you get in any deeper.”

  He shrugged. “Ty’s my best friend. I won’t walk away if he needs my help.”

  “Admirable, but it’s more than that.” Those deep brown eyes continued to scrutinize him, giving him the eerie impression that she could see into his mind. “You’re a Boy Scout,” she murmured, having finished her analysis and come to her final conclusion.

  “No I’m not,” he blurted, unable to keep the defensive edge out of his tone. He’d been called that before, and though it might be true to some extent, it still annoyed him that she’d said it.

  “Yes, you are. You save people. It’s what you do, and now that you know what’s going on, you feel obligated to help me too. But as you’ve seen, I’m not helpless or in need of a man to rescue me. I don’t need a protector, so you can just stop with the whole white-knight routine.”

  It’s not a routine. He bit the retort back before it could burst out of his mouth. He wouldn’t rise to the bait and let her know she was getting to him. “I can’t up and leave you and the others now that I know what’s going on.”

  She sighed. “See? Boy Scout.”

  Well, so what if he was a bit? “I’m only going to be around for another couple weeks. You’re used to working alone, but things change. What’s the harm in having some backup?” Okay, part of him felt compelled to help protect Chloe as she put herself in danger for the sake of others. He didn’t like that she was at risk because of it, with a dangerous enemy hot on her tail and people within the U.S. government possibly targeting her too. She needed help, whether she wanted to admit it or not.

 

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