Assassin Games (Tarnished Heroes)

by Bristol, Sidney

  He grinned at her, the expression full of wicked promise. He slid his hand up under her bra and goose bumps broke out along her sides and stomach. Her internal muscles clenched around his cock, squeezing him tight. He flexed his hips, driving deeper into her. She opened her mouth, but no sound came out.

  This whole silence business was going to be harder than she wanted to admit.

  She tightened her grip on the table and dropped her head forward.

  Maybe if she didn’t watch him so closely it wouldn’t feel as intense.

  Yeah, right. Everything about him was dialed to ten. There wasn’t anything he did half-heartedly, including her. So much of her life was neat and categorized, but Andy destroyed that. What they shared was too big to last, which made asking for it now easier.

  He pressed his hand against her lower back, urging her forward. She kicked her feet out wider and arched her back.

  The first true thrust drove all the air from her lungs and she dug her nails into the table. Damn, he felt good. The heat of him seared her soul, branding his mark on her where no one else could see it, but she’d live with it for the rest of her natural life.

  She pushed back at the same moment he rocked into her. Her thighs hit the edge of the table and she groaned. He kept her there with his hands, driving into her hard and fast. The edge of the desk bit into her thighs each time, reminding her she was alive and they were together.

  What was it about him? Why this man? Of all the men she’d ever met, he knew her at a glance. There were no nice, neat answers about their attraction, and she was done fighting it. For as long as they were together, she wanted this freedom.

  Carol stared into Andy’s reflected gaze. He didn’t stare at her body or her breasts, he looked into her eyes. She trembled as a wave of something deep and pleasurable swept through her, tightening the coil of lust deep in her belly, losing herself in the moment. He’d stolen part of her, and she didn’t want it back. She wanted it to stay with him, always.

  He thrust again, bending his knees. Her arms shook with the effort to hold the desk in place. She rocked up onto her toes, clenching her teeth against the whimper fighting to escape her lips. He covered her hand with his free one, bending over her, covering her body with his. He kissed her neck and shoulder, whispering words she couldn’t understand.

  Andy slid his hand from her breast to her mound, cupping it. His fingers slid between them, her skin slick with arousal. He pressed her clit, flicking his finger back and forth.

  Without warning her world burst apart, fracturing into colors so vibrant she could taste them. She whimpered, her body coming undone. He rocked into her, nothing gentle or soft about it. Her toes were the only part of her touching the floor the moment he stopped, clutching her to him, his head buried against her shoulder, arms wrapped around her.

  Holy shit.

  They were fucked.

  Carol gasped for breath, her thoughts flying around like wild, panicked creatures. She didn’t need words to know that an integral part of her was now his, that they were connected in a way neither were prepared for. And she didn’t think they’d talk about it, either.

  Andy pressed a kiss to the crook of her neck, his arms wrapped around her, hugging her body while they were still intimately embraced. She covered one of his hands with hers, as though she could hold onto him, this, all of it.

  Why did she have to find the one man who got her, who really understood her, while she was running for her life?

  It wasn’t fair. Then again, she’d learned that lesson a long time ago.

  Andy gave her a final squeeze, then eased their bodies apart. He guided her to the bed and sat her on the edge before ducking out to the hall bathroom.

  Carol pushed her hair off her face, struggling with the swirl of emotions and thoughts within her.

  She cared for Andy, maybe even loved him. It could be the situation. Intense life-or-death encounters spurred on deep, sometimes serious connections. Or it could be that they were the only two people they could trust. She knew Andy meant her well, that he would not choose to hurt her, which made falling for him easier.

  Andy returned, his clothes on and a rag in hand.

  That was one thing she appreciated about him. His thoughtful, always prepared nature meant he was two steps ahead of her always.

  She reached for the rag, but he pushed her hands away and kneeled down.

  “You don’t—”

  “Sh.” He leaned in, buzzing her lips with a kiss.

  For some reason, this moment seemed more vulnerable than sex. He gently wiped her legs and sex, cleaning her with care. She fisted the comforter, warring with the urge to push him away.

  It wasn’t special for her alone. She could see the way Andy stared at her when he thought she was asleep or not looking from time to time. It was a puzzled, confused look, as though he didn’t know what to do with her.

  Well, apart from keeping her alive, the rest would have to sort itself out.

  “There.” Andy rocked back on his heels.

  Should she say thank you?

  She stood, pulling up her panties and jeans, searching for something better to say.

  An odd noise made Carol pause. Andy hesitated, too. They both looked at each other, and she tilted her head sideways, trying to place the muted sound.

  The pitch and timbre of the sound brought up summer memories.

  Playing in the backyard as Mom was planting her new flowers, bumping into a table, and sending the still-tagged terra-cotta pots crashing to the concrete patio.

  Icy fingers crawled up her spine.

  Maybe it was all in her head?

  The air pressure seemed to change, as though someone had opened a door.

  “The clay pots on the patio.” She pressed her hand to his chest. “Andy, I think someone is here.”

  Andy reached under the pillow and drew his gun.

  She swallowed.

  “Two people entering from the balcony. Stay down.” Andy’s gaze focused on the door, no hesitation in his movements. How he could tell the number of people and where they were was beyond her.

  Carol gave herself a little shake.

  They’d discussed this, what to do in the event that they were pinned down or found. This was always a possibility. A risk.

  She shoved her feet in the leather knee-high boots Nate had presented her as alternatives to her snow boots and zipped them up. She grabbed the black bag from under the bed and crouched on the floor, ready to run or hide.

  “Hey!” Nate’s voice broke the stillness.

  Oh no…

  Andy pulled the door open.

  “Who are—”

  Nate’s voice cut off, punctuated by two loud pft, pft sounds.

  Carol covered her mouth.

  No…

  The whole world seemed to slow, everything happening at a crawl.

  One of the things she’d learned to identify this week was the sound of a silencer. Dampener would be more appropriate considering nothing could adequately mute the sound of muzzle fire. She sucked down a breath.

  Nate…

  They’d…oh God.

  Andy exited the bedroom door.

  She wanted to reach for him, pull him back from danger, but she couldn’t.

  His arm was already up.

  She saw the flash of muzzle fire before the bedroom door swung shut behind him.

  The walls shook, bullets punched holes in the drywall, and dust rained down on her.

  Carol clapped her hands over her ears, all the carefully rehearsed plans flying out of her head. This was all her fault. Every last bit of it. If she’d just kept her nose out of things, if she’d just done her job, she wouldn’t be here.

  They’d shot Nate, probably killed him, because she’d come here. And now Andy might die protecting her.

  What would she do without Andy? How would she survive? God, he was part of her soul, her heart. She’d never known that with more certainty than she did now.

  Carol
sucked down air, but she couldn’t pull in enough oxygen.

  “Carol? Carol, I need you to snap out of it.” Andy knelt in front of her. He just seemed to appear out of nowhere. There was a thin cut on his cheek with a few drops of blood. He gripped her by the wrist. “Look at me, breathe with me. Thatta girl.”

  Andy was alive, but…

  “N-Nate?”

  “We’ve got to move. You got the bag? Like we talked about?”

  She gripped the strap of the black bag.

  “Good girl. Come on.” He hauled her to her feet and shoved her hat on over her head. There was an urgency to his voice, a not quite smoothness to his movements. “We have to go, now. Stay close to me. Got it?”

  She nodded, because that was what she was supposed to do.

  “I’m going to put my hand over your eyes. Just hold onto me, and keep a tight grip on the bag, okay?”

  Carol nodded. Words were beyond her. She tightened her grip on the bag and reached for Andy, grasping his belt. Again, something they’d talked about. He wrapped his arm around her head, blinding her.

  “Stay with me, Carol. Breathe. It’s going to be okay.” Andy stepped forward, pulling her with him.

  They made it through the bedroom with no issue. Her first step out of the door and she tripped over something, nearly going to her knees. Andy’s footing wasn’t as unsure. She went down, and he didn’t.

  “Don’t look. Keep your eyes closed,” he said.

  She squeezed her eyes tightly together and smelled the metallic scent of blood.

  Andy hooked his hands under her arms and lifted her, mostly carrying her around the corner and through the living room. Without his strength, she’d have collapsed already.

  “We’re out. Don’t look back. Put your coat on. We have to go now. There’s probably more of them.”

  “Nate’s dead?”

  “I hope so.” Andy took the bag.

  “What’s that supposed to mean?” She shoved her arms into the coat, taking the stairs two at a time to keep up with him.

  “I wouldn’t want to still be alive after that. Here, can you take the bag?”

  “Yes.”

  “Okay, there’s a car two blocks over. We’re going to head there one at a time, keep twenty or so yards between us, understand?”

  “Y-yes.”

  “Good girl. I’ll get it started, you just get in like nothing is wrong and we’re on the road.”

  “But—”

  “We have to stay focused.” Andy stopped at the foot of the stairs. “You have to hold it together for a little while longer. When we’re in the car, you can cry and scream all you want, but right now you have to act as though nothing happened. Understand?”

  Carol nodded, because she knew she had to.

  “Okay. That’s my girl. Count to ten, then follow me, okay. Out the door and to the right. Take the first right, cross the street, and I’ll be right there.”

  Again, she nodded.

  Andy pressed a kiss to her forehead and then was gone.

  She pressed her back up against the wall and looked up toward Nate’s floor.

  One…

  To think she’d hardly remembered him at all, but she’d left a mark on his life.

  Three…

  And now, because of her, Nate was “hopefully” dead.

  Five…

  Her throat closed up.

  Seven…

  This was what her life would be like from now on.

  Nine…

  She got this one time to lose her shit. After this, she had to figure out how to deal with it better, because until these people were stopped, others would die. Maybe her mother, Andy’s brothers, Irene, or Mitch. They were all at risk unless someone did something. And this time—it was her.

  Carol pushed her shoulders back, tears leaking out of her eyes, and strode toward the door. Her vision blurred a bit, but she kept going out into the icy, early morning hours. She kept her back straight and head up.

  This was personal now. Nate might not have been a shining example of humanity, but he was still a person. Someone who’d been kind to her, helped her, and death was his only reward.

  Anger burned away her tears. By the time she made it to the second corner and saw the idling sedan, she was fuming.

  Carol opened the passenger door, threw the black bag into the back seat and got in.

  “Is it always like this?” she asked.

  “Sometimes.” Andy shifted into reverse.

  “I’m going to need a refresher about how to shoot.”

  “We can do that.”

  She stared out the window while Andy got them pointed out of the city. She’d thought for a moment she could do this, that it wouldn’t be so hard. The reality was a painful reminder that she was out of her depth.

  “Were they it?” she asked.

  “We aren’t being followed and I didn’t see a surveillance team.” Andy peered into the mirrors. “Could be they were what was close. They’re just throwing whatever they have at us.”

  “Why didn’t we leave earlier?” Could they have avoided Nate’s death?

  “I told you, Nate came up with an idea for how to get us over the border without going through a check-in. We were going to leave in the next hour and rendezvous with a drug smuggler contact of his.”

  “To keep the new passport out of the system?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Smart.” She settled back in her seat. “I don’t know that I can do this, Andy. I’m not built for this life.”

  “You’re stronger than you think you are.”

  Carol wasn’t so sure.

  Chapter Sixteen

  Kristina stood a little behind the Shadow Man and kept her eyes on the monitors. The video feed was grainy and distorted, showing an old brick building swaddled by the night.

  There were so many firsts tonight, the most important of which was being admitted here. To this operational facility. She’d wondered if there were control rooms unassociated with the CIA. Now she knew there were. And they’d let her in. She was climbing the ladder now.

  “Give them the go-ahead to enter,” the Shadow Man said.

  If she looked at his profile enough she thought she might be able to put a name to him. Did she want to, though? No one controlling the monitors or communications had so much turned to look at either of them. It was likely safer if she remained in the dark. Then again, if she knew who she was dealing with she could protect herself.

  “Police are on the way,” the man to her far right said.

  “Be quick about it,” the Shadow Man said.

  The person with the camera, likely some sort of helmet or body cam, moved forward, pushing a door open.

  Glass and debris littered the floor. Furniture was overturned. It looked like a bomb had gone off.

  “Shit,” someone muttered.

  “Are they there?” The Shadow Man began to pace, back and forth, passing behind Kristina.

  “Negative. These two are our operatives, and that man lives here,” a disembodied voice replied.

  The camera person went room to room, but besides the three prone bodies in the main space, the apartment was empty.

  “Goddamn,” the Shadow Man muttered. “All right. Get out of there and start looking for them. They can’t have more than a fifteen-minute head start.”

  Kristina swallowed.

  It wasn’t her fault, she had to keep reminding herself that she’d done everything exactly as instructed. It was the people in the field who’d acted out of turn.

  “You.” He wheeled around to face her, the dim light obscuring his face. “Make sure we have someone at every border crossing. We have to get ahead of this. And find out where they took Mitch McConnel. SPS moved him.”

  “I’m on it.” Kristina nodded, but didn’t move. She dared not until properly dismissed, lest she miss an order.

  She was part of the bigger picture now, where she belonged.

  “Make sure all of our assets know to
kill on sight. I want this handled, and fast. Go.”

  Kristina turned on her heel and strode out of the room, a smile on her face.

  She’d relay the instructions and find the golden boy. This was her new role in things and she deserved it.

  …

  Wednesday, Germany

  Carol had never been a fan of hats. They were itchy, often hot, and uncomfortable. This one was no different, probably even worse since she had every strand of hair up under it. At the first possible opportunity she’d dye it. Change the color. Something. But that took time they didn’t have.

  She pressed her arms to her side, shivering despite the slight wind break the building offered her.

  The evening foot traffic flowed past her.

  Andy was out there, watching her. Keeping her safe.

  Where was Jan?

  She’d called his office the moment they hit the outskirts of Berlin after twelve hours of driving and sneaking around border crossings. The receptionist hadn’t seemed too interested in helping Carol, but had told her one thing.

  Jan was in the office today, and unless he was working late, he should be headed home any moment now.

  It’d been years since she’d seen Jan. Her impressions of him had always been of a stately young man prone to frowning. It’d taken them longer than most of the exchange students to find a rhythm. Months, in fact. Mom had pulled down the Christmas train set sometime before Thanksgiving to find something and the ancient toy had interested Jan. They’d spent hours going over every piece that night. Jan showed her how to tell the original pieces from the replacement ones, how to repair it, what could be fixed, and how to incorporate new pieces so they melded into the set seamlessly.

  She always thought of Jan at Christmas. He’d been such a serious young man, so full of duty and what had to be done, he’d forgotten to be a child.

  The dark skies seemed to heave and roll around above them, threatening more snow. Just what Carol needed.

  She cupped her hands over her mouth and blew on them, willing herself warm.

  The door of the building swung open and a tall man clothed head to toe in black stepped out. It wasn’t that she recognized him, per se, but the air around him. Jan was always a touch self-important.