by Regan Black
He watched the trailer guard harass the latest pair of girls as they scurried to relieve themselves in the forest. The guard was speaking loudly and Rob’s Russian was very good, so he heard the guard tell the girls that their first taste of American opportunity was going to come in the shape of his anatomy. Rob allowed the initial flash of anger to fuel his dedication to duty as he assessed how to take the guard down. A clean shot would be easy, but then there wouldn’t be a suspect to question. The more junior the ROC member was, like this guard, the easier it was for them to be turned. They weren’t hardened like Vasin and certainly not Ivanov, who had the power of the entire ROC behind him. No, this guard would have to be restrained, quickly and quietly enough to not alert Vasin. Rob had to keep the guard alive.
But the perimeter guards were another problem. Trina couldn’t be expected to take out four guards. It was too dangerous. As the minutes ticked down and he still didn’t hear back from her, he was going to have to make a decision: Complete the mission or save Trina.
* * *
Trina watched from the safety of a low tree branch as the other two men circled around toward her location. Would she be as lucky this time, that they’d be chatting away about tits and ass enough to overlook her as the previous guards had? Her Russian wasn’t perfect but she kept it proficient enough to use as needed in the field. She’d arrested several ROC members and had always been grateful for the language ability.
Crouched in the low branches of a bushy tree in a Pocono campground was never how she’d anticipated using her skill. But it was reassuring to know what the guards were talking about.
Single guard on unhitched 18-wheeler trailer full of girls. They go out in 2s to use forest as toilet. I have to take out guard, get captives into forest. You move them to safer ground and wait for backup.
She read Rob’s text again and knew that if these bad guys walking around her heard one sound from the trailer they’d be over there in a flash. Rob was a former SEAL, and CIA operative. He was an organized crime thug’s worst nightmare. But even with Rob’s capabilities, she didn’t like the odds.
It was going to be up to her. She deliberately did not respond to Rob right away. She’d rather be able to tell him she’d neutralized her area. Four guards. It was a matter of which two she’d take out first.
As the two men drew closer, she heard the dreaded words. Thank God for her Russian training. “What the hell is that?”
“What?”
“There, under the bush, idiot.” The one guard lowered his voice, realizing they weren’t alone. Trina watched as they neared the bush, the one in front motioning for the other to follow at a distance. They zeroed in on her boots, only two or three yards away.
“Come out of there.” The guard spoke in excellent English, his rifle pointed at the bush.
Trina knew it was now or never.
She jumped down from the low tree branch she’d climbed. A quick hit to one guard’s head with her pistol had him unconscious on the ground. She was ready for the second man when he turned around, searching for her. Trina made short work of aiming her pistol and shooting in defense at his shoulder. He dropped to his knees, his screams echoing around her. She grabbed his AR-15 by yanking its strap over his head as he crashed to the ground.
The noise alerted the other two men, and they ran at her. They were only yards away. One stopped and aimed his rifle at her. Trina acted on operational instinct as she grabbed the first man’s AR-15 from the ground and ran for the back of the building. She flung the extra weapon into the brush as she ran, ensuring the other two men wouldn’t find it easily. As shots hit the ground around her feet, she zigzagged until she heard the pounding steps behind her. A man emerged in front of her, and she prepared to take him out until she recognized it was Rob. He motioned with one swift up-and-down swipe of his left hand for her to hit the deck. She complied, and within a split second the sound of two bullets whizzing overhead was followed by two quick oomphs and thuds as her pursuers hit the ground. Rob had taken them out.
She was back on her knees, getting up as Rob’s hand closed around her upper arm and pulled her to a standing position. His eyes blazed from the adrenaline, and she knew hers did, too.
“You okay? Any more?” He looked her over.
“Okay. We got them all, except Vasin and whoever he’s guarding in there. One’s unconscious, and I shot the other in the shoulder. The trailer guard?”
Rob nodded. “Got him. Tied up to a tree, out of sight. Our backup team will find him. Come on. We’ve got to get the girls out of here.”
She followed him, noticing that his stiff posture wasn’t as pronounced as it had been yesterday or even a few hours ago. Like her, Rob thrived on the thrill of a mission’s execution. Although Trina preferred to bring in fugitives. She’d never fired her weapon as a marshal before.
They ran around the back of the building, and it reminded her of casing the other building. Had it only been yesterday? She felt a decade older.
As they drew around to the other side, she looked for the trailer, anxious to help the young women to safety.
Rob halted, and she almost smashed into his back.
“Holy hell.” Rob’s words, low and meant for her only, alerted her to the sight in front of them.
“This what you came here for, Marshal Lopez? Robert Bristol?” Vasin underscored the ROC’s power by using her name. He’d known she was at the other hideout, probably from the camera feed, and ROC intelligence had tracked her identity. She didn’t have time to worry about it as Vasin waved his rifle at the trailer, holding one of the girls by her hair. She whimpered as Vasin tugged on her locks. He spat on the ground.
Trina swallowed and stepped out from behind Rob. “No. I came for you. Backup is on the way, and you’re never going to survive it. Come in with me now or take your chances with dozens of trained SWAT team members.” She didn’t want to reveal the FBI’s presence. It wasn’t Vasin’s business.
Vasin laughed. “You mean like Robert told us yesterday? Your backup didn’t get me then. Why now?” He continued to reply with profanity in Russian, and she smiled.
“No, unfortunately I’m not one to do that to myself. Take my orders or else.” She stared at him, speaking in Russian.
“So the US Marshal knows Russian? Then you understand.” He repeated his previous sentiment, this time in colloquial Russian.
Rob hadn’t moved the entire time, and when he ran in a flurry of movement toward the nearest copse of trees, Vasin dropped the girl and fired. Trina used the nanosecond to aim and fire at Vasin. She saw his arm jerk, but he jumped from the ramp and disappeared into the woods.
Rob’s voice reached her before she saw him. “Get to the girls. I’m going for him.” His large form moved like an Olympic athlete, bruised bones and tissue be damned. Trina looked around, seeing no other ROC criminals and no backup. The girl Vasin had held was still huddled on the ramp of the trailer, whimpering. Trina ran up to her, and as she comforted the teenager she looked up into the truck trailer and into at least fifteen pairs of eyes, staring at her in shock.
She held up her hand in a wave. “It’s okay. You’re safe. I am US Marshal Trina Lopez. We’re going to wait for help to arrive, and you will be taken to safety.”
Her simple Russian elicited a mixture of relieved shouts, an onslaught of words of thanks and a few laughs of relief. After she urged the women to remain calm, she looked over toward the main building and wondered if Ivanov was in there. Before she could think any more about it, she saw a helicopter come out of the sky and land for the briefest moment in the largest part of the clearing. The building blocked her view, and she was unable to see if anyone got off or boarded the helo before it rose back up and headed north. Trina couldn’t see if anyone got into the chopper, but she’d be willing to bet it had been Ivanov.
Disappointment made her stomach churn but all she had to do was look a
t the group of girls she and Rob had freed. Ivanov’s escape would be temporary—the effect of saving their lives was lasting. As she watched the helicopter disappear, déjà vu struck. She’d felt this same sense of accomplishment, of a job well done, when she’d worked alongside Rob during the war.
No matter what had passed between them, no matter what their future held, they still were a great team.
CHAPTER 8
“It’s done, Corey. Vasin is in custody with the FBI, and we’re watching the girls board a passenger bus. They’ll all go to the hospital to be checked over.” Trina caught her boss up on the ops success before she admitted the one failure. “Ivanov was nowhere to be found. They captured all of his men that we knew were in the area, but no sign of him.”
“Sounds like your theory about the helicopter is correct.” Corey paused. “I’m not saying this officially, Lopez, but I’m damned proud of what you did. Even if it was incredibly reckless and stupid.”
“Thanks, boss. You can put me back on the clock if you want, but if I can have the weekend with Jake I’d appreciate it.”
“You got it. See you Monday morning.”
She disconnected and didn’t hesitate to call her brother.
“Hey, Trina. You’re still alive.”
“Yes. How’s Jake?”
“Great. Ate two huge blueberry pancakes at breakfast this morning. Mom let him put as much syrup on them as he wanted.”
“Of course she did.” Trina loved her mother for many reasons, but how she acted as a grandmother was tops on the list. “I hope that camp keeps them hydrated.”
“Relax, they do. Jake’s having a blast there.” Nolan grew silent, the way he did when he needed to talk about something serious. An attorney, he was adept at drawing out the truth. “You okay, Trin? This work job seemed to come up awfully quick.”
“Hey, I can’t dictate the needs of the US Marshals.” She gave a nod to the slogan of how everything depended upon the needs of the Navy. She knew he’d understand this.
“No, but you’re usually ahead of your schedule. I can’t remember the last time you had to ask us to fill in on short notice. And you’ve been talking about getting a desk job.” He didn’t press her, but she knew what he wouldn’t say, wouldn’t ask. He wanted her to be happy as much as he wanted his nephew to have his mom around for a long time.
“I could ask you the same, in terms of running for judge.” Nolan had served as a juvenile defender in Silver Valley for the last two years. He often talked about running for county judge.
His sigh was audible. “Yeah, about that—we’ve got such a heavy caseload here that I’d be a prick if I quit now.”
“Can you say what kind of cases?”
“More serious drug dealing than we’ve experienced. These kids are being backed by organized crime.”
“That’s exactly what I’ve run up against here. I’ll fill you in when I’m back tonight. Want to come over for pizza?”
“Sure thing. I’ll let Mom know that Jake will be back at your place tonight.”
“Thanks, bro. See you then.” She leaned against the rental SUV, under the shade of an overgrown oak tree. She wanted to tell Nolan about Rob, formerly Justin, but it wasn’t something you handled on the phone.
Rob walked over from the group of FBI agents he’d been talking to and stopped a couple of feet from her, his eyes unreadable under the ball cap he’d picked up. It had FBI emblazoned on it.
“How are you holding up?”
“I’m good. Hot and thirsty, and I think my shoulder’s going to be sore tomorrow. Pretty damned good, considering what we did today.” She shielded her eyes from the sun that had broken through the storm clouds.
He nodded. “You’re as good as you ever were, Trina.”
“Same to you. Although the helicopter. It’s going to haunt me that I didn’t run after it.” Or try to shoot it down.
“You couldn’t. We saved the girls, and the FBI has Vasin, the man we both were going in for. We can’t ask for more.” Rob seemed almost cheerful in his demeanor.
“I can’t ask for more, you’re right. I’m not the one who’s responsible for taking down Ivanov or ROC. But I’d have loved a shot at it.”
“Believe it or not, neither am I.” He looked up at the sky, where two red-tailed hawks made slow, wide circles atop the late-afternoon hot air streams. “It takes all the agencies working together to bring down something like a ROC group. Look how long it takes to dismantle any of the Mafia groups.”
“True.” She wiped the sweat off her brow, dragging her palms against her pants.
“What are you going to do with this?” Rob slapped the side of the SUV.
“Drive it back home for tonight, turn it in to the local rental place in Harrisburg in the morning.”
“I’ve got a better deal for Uncle Sam.” She saw far enough beneath the brim of his hat to see the glint in his eyes.
“Oh?”
“I’ll follow you back to where we picked this up, and then you can ride back to Silver Valley with me. Unless you need to get your car from the Marshal office downtown? I can take you to either place.”
She contemplated him. Rob’s entire six-foot length was lean and sexy. Funny how quickly she’d adapted to calling him anything other than Justin. As if they were living an entirely new life together. Scratch the together part.
“I should go back to the office, but frankly I want to get home to Jake as soon as possible.”
He winced, and his reaction was so physical she winced, too. “I’m sorry, Rob. Of course you don’t want to do that, not tonight. I’m tired, on the adrenaline rush comedown.”
“Nothing to apologize for. I get it, remember?” He lifted the cap off his head and ran his fingers through his tufted blond crew cut. “We can talk about it on the drive back. Let’s get out of here.” He knocked on the car frame and headed toward the Jeep she’d seen him drive up in an hour ago, after the FBI had declared the area safe to move about. He’d left the Jeep buried in the woods yesterday when he’d begun his surveillance.
Trina got in the car, turned the key in the ignition and immediately blasted the air-conditioning. Better to get cooled down before spending the next three hours in the same car as the man she’d had the hottest sex of her life with, a long time ago during a Navy deployment far, far away.
* * *
Rob told himself repeatedly that he wasn’t going to say or do anything stupid during the drive back to Harrisburg. Trina was his son’s mother, and as much as it hurt to think he might not see Jake yet, he’d have to play this by Trina’s rule book.
He followed a decent distance behind her on the highway, ignoring the desire to speed up and drive next to her, hooting and hollering like a teenager. It was as if they’d never been apart, the way they’d worked together the last twenty-four hours. The entire op had gone like clockwork with a few expected-unexpected challenges thrown in. Perfect work for a former SEAL and a bit of a stretch for a former naval aviator. But Trina knew what she was doing. The Marshals had trained her well.
Pulling into the rental office parking lot behind her, he parked off to the side, out of sight of the other customers. He knew they were safe from any ROC members for the moment, but couldn’t shake the feeling this wasn’t done. Ivanov had escaped, if indeed he’d been in that building. Rob didn’t doubt he’d been holed up there.
The agent he’d been while CIA would have taken out Vasin and all the guards and gone in the building to get Ivanov. Before he saw Trina again. And found out he was a father.
He had a son he wanted to meet. That made the risks higher. He stilled for a split second. If the mere knowledge that he had a child affected him like this, made him want to finish the mission safely, what was it going to be like after he met his son? After he looked into his eyes and connected at a soul level? Wondering how his parents had lef
t him to the foster care system had always been a question, one he didn’t expect an answer to. But now he was a father. His enthusiasm to meet his child gave him new insight. His mother and father must have been suffering themselves, be it from addiction or other equally devastating emotional wounds, to give up the fight to be his parents. He knew with unwavering commitment that he’d never give up on the son he hadn’t even met yet. They had to get through this mission, and he had to get to Jake.
“Hey, stranger. Care to give a girl a lift?” Trina opened the passenger door and didn’t wait for his answer as she placed her luscious ass in the seat. He gave himself a moment to take her in, away from the constant tension of an ongoing, high profile op. Her dark cargo pants were dusted up, but he couldn’t care less—he couldn’t stop staring at how they hugged her sexy-as-hell legs, her strong thighs well defined under the thin material. Where said thighs met, his perusal stopped, and he wished he had X-ray vision as a skill, as his memory of Trina naked and willing wasn’t enough anymore.
“Rob?” Curiosity lit her eyes and brought out a peony pink flush on her cheekbones.
“Give me a minute here, Trina.”
He didn’t allow her to rush him as he continued his inspection up to her waist, where he knew creamy skin covered her toned muscles under her torn and dirty T-shirt. When he got to her breasts, his head felt like it might explode, so he continued to her lips. Wet lips that she must have just licked. When he met her gaze, he knew what he’d known since yesterday.
Rob knew with the understanding only previous lovers shared that Trina still wanted him. Maybe not for a friend or to go on a date with, and certainly not for any kind of commitment. She wanted him as he did her—in bed, on a sofa, on the forest floor, in this Jeep. Connected in the most primal way.