Shades of Gray

by Maya Banks

Page 16

 

  She hadn’t minded butting in then to boss them around and make sure they were resting. But then they hadn’t planned a vigilante mission to go track down scumbags on their own either.

  “Cole, a word,” Steele said tersely.

  Cole turned and met his team leader’s gaze. Steele motioned toward the door and then left the war room. Cole followed him outside and then a short distance away before they both halted.

  “What’s so top secret?” Cole asked.

  “Don’t be a smart-ass,” Steele said sharply. “I need you to have your head on straight if you’re going to be a part of this. ”

  Cole frowned. “Wait just a damn minute. ”

  Steele pinned him with his forceful gaze. “No, you wait a minute. Don’t act like you haven’t gone to shit in the last months. You look like something the cat dragged in. You’ve lost weight. You look like you haven’t slept in a month. You won’t do P. J. a damn bit of good if you can’t perform your function within the team. We don’t need a goddamn hero, Cole. What we need is an efficient team to go in and take care of business without allowing our emotions to rule. ”

  Cole wanted to argue. Damn but he wanted to tell Steele to shove it up his ass, but his team leader was right and Cole knew it.

  “I get it,” Cole said gruffly. “I’m in. You aren’t doing this without me. ”

  Steele held up a finger. “The only reason I’m letting you in on this is because I know if I sideline you, you’ll only go off on your own and then you’ll get in the way. I’m not losing P. J. and I’m damn well not losing you either. I’m keeping this team together if it kills me. ”

  Cole sobered and then turned away to stare over the lake. “I hope we’re not too late, Steele. ”

  Steele sighed. “Yeah, me too. ”

  “I want this bastard. I want him to pay for what he did to P. J. But more than that, I just want her back home, with us. With the team. ”

  “I get it,” Steele said quietly. “And she will be. I told her what she could do with her resignation. ”

  Cole chuckled. And then he glanced Steele’s way. “You’re not the robot everyone accuses you of, you know. ”

  Steele’s expression could have frozen lava. “Don’t start thinking I have a heart, Coletrane. I just don’t want to have to start over and train a new recruit. ”

  Cole stifled a smile. Yeah. Whatever.

  CHAPTER 19

  SLOVAKIA, SURVEILLANCE DAY TWO

  SWEAT rolled down P. J. ’s sides, making the thin camo shirt she wore cling to her flesh. She was absolutely still, barely breathing as she waited, just as she’d waited for the last twenty-four hours, for the right opportunity to present itself.

  She was patient. She’d often spent long hours in the field on sniper watch. Some missions had been drawn out for days, and she and Cole had been partners in the silence. Unable to communicate or even acknowledge the other’s presence in any way, but it had been comforting to know she wasn’t alone.

  That wasn’t the case now. She didn’t have Cole as her partner. She didn’t have her team to back her up. She was flying solo straight into the lion’s den.

  She was smart enough to be scared, but she refused to allow that fear to paralyze her and make her helpless and weak. Never again.

  She held her breath as she stared through the binoculars to the residence below. Two armored cars had arrived, and she watched as Brumley got out on one side. Nelson got out on the other and looked around, his gaze obviously searching for any threat.

  You won’t find me, bastard. Not until I’m ready.

  Brumley went in, surrounded by his guards. It would be so easy to pick the asshole off with her sniper rifle. But it was too easy. She wanted him to suffer, and she wanted her face to be the last he saw right before he died. So he’d know it was her and that she’d made him pay for his sins.

  Nelson lagged behind, lighting a cigarette as Brumley entered the house.

  P. J. smiled. Arrogant assholes. They thought the high fence and million-dollar security and surveillance protected them from the outside world. That she couldn’t come in. That they were safe.

  They were wrong.

  She eased from her hiding place, making sure the silencer was attached to her gun properly and that the knife Brumley had used on her was in her grip.

  Over the past months, she’d spent a frustrating amount of time frequenting places that Brumley was rumored to enjoy. She’d gone through every penny of her savings to support her search for the men who’d raped her.

  And it was worth being dirt-poor for the rest of her life if she accomplished her mission.

  She pulled out a handheld PC and quickly typed in a series of commands. Donovan wasn’t the only one handy with computers. They just bored her to tears.

  In the first hour of her surveillance she’d hacked into the estate’s security monitoring system. It had been a piece of cake. It baffled her that with as much money as Brumley threw around, he’d actually have such a pussy surveillance system.

  She programmed the system to replay the tapes of the last four hours, ending before the procession of cars arrived. She’d only have two hours before they’d know something was up, because the sun would start to sink and dusk would be upon her.

  Two hours to get in and kill the men responsible for the scars on her body and the damage to her soul.

  She’d had less time to perform a mission before. This one wasn’t any different. Objective must be achieved. She told herself that over and over.

  She darted toward the house, keeping behind cover so she wouldn’t be spotted through one of the windows. Nelson was still out front smoking his damn cigarette, and that wasn’t where she’d wanted to confront him. But he didn’t show signs of moving elsewhere, so she’d have to do the job there and make it fast instead of making him suffer the long, drawn-out death she wanted.

  When she reached the house, she put her back to the stone exterior and inched her way toward the front where Nelson stood.

  “What the h—”

  P. J. whirled around at the voice and squeezed off a round before the man could shout a warning. He fell to the ground with a loud thump.

  Shit! The bastard had lucked onto her and had come in from behind. What the hell was he even doing there? Had Brumley ordered his men to patrol the exterior of the house? Did Brumley realize by now that she was hunting him?

  She hoped to hell she was keeping him up at night. That he lived in fear of when she would get to him. It wasn’t a matter of if. It was when.

  Her heart was pounding as she peeked around the corner again. Nelson was still there, but he’d just taken a last drag, tossing aside the butt as he blew out a cloud of smoke.

  She shuddered, remembering the stench of tobacco on him while he’d pushed his body onto hers. Before she lost her courage, she rounded the corner, gun in one hand and knife in the other.

  As much as it pained her to make his death quick, she was going to have to cut her losses and take Nelson out so she could get to her prime objective. Brumley.

  “Nelson,” she called out, wanting the bastard to face her and at least know who would claim his death.

  He swiveled, his expression a mixture of what-the-fuck and fear.

  The sound of the front door opening jerked P. J. ’s attention from Nelson long enough to see that she’d been made.

  A gunshot sounded and pain lashed through P. J. ’s leg. Stupid motherfucker couldn’t aim for shit.

  She squeezed off a shot, downing the guy who came out the door. Then she turned rapidly to Nelson, who was attempting to flee. She shot him in the back of the leg, just to slow him down, and then she turned her attention back to the front entrance.

  When two more men appeared, she dove behind one of the armored cars, ignoring the screaming agony in her leg and the smell of blood.

  In the distance, Nelson lay on the ground writhing in pain, shouting curses and orders for so
meone to give him cover.

  Hoping they were temporarily distracted by Nelson’s rantings, she pushed herself upward, leaning on the car, and got three shots off. She ducked back down and then peered underneath the car toward the steps. One of the men was lying motionless, half down the steps, his leg dangling in the shrubbery.

  She couldn’t see the other, which meant he was either on top of her or he’d run back inside.

  She glanced down at her leg and swore as she saw all the blood soaking her pants. It was just a flesh wound. A clean through and through. Thank God the bullet hadn’t hit bone or she wouldn’t be walking.

  Pain she could handle.

  She picked herself up again, took a clip out and shoved another in.

  “Come get me, fuckers,” she bit out.

  There were six unaccounted for. A total of ten men had arrived, including Nelson and Brumley. Three were dead and Nelson was on the ground whimpering like a baby.

  A loud roar sounded. P. J. ’s brow wrinkled and then she realized it was a chopper starting up. Son of a bitch. Brumley was escaping.

  Throwing caution straight down the toilet, she bolted from behind the car and ran for the front entrance. She passed the one dead guy on the steps and nearly tripped over the second guy who’d shot at her.

  He was lying just inside the foyer, eyes wide open in death. Now there were only five unaccounted for. She was relieved to know she still had good aim.

  Teeth clenched to ward off the pain, she shuffled as fast as her injured leg would allow through the house, gun up, clearing each room she hurried through.

  When she got to the back enclosure, she saw the helicopter lift into the air.

  “No!”

  Goddamn it. She couldn’t lose him. Not when she’d been this close.

  She dashed through the doorway and raised her gun, squeezing off shot after shot at the departing helicopter. Through the glass, she saw Brumley. Made eye contact with him. The bastard actually looked at her and gave her a cocky two-finger salute.

  She took another shot, even knowing it was pointless. She fired until she was out of ammo and then let her arms fall to her sides. She closed her eyes in bitter disappointment.

  Failed.

  She turned, having to drag her leg. It was growing more numb all the time, and as the adrenaline wore off, the pain became more unbearable.

  There was still Nelson to contend with.

  She popped in another clip and limped through the house, delighting in the fact that she’d tracked blood all over the posh furnishings. When she walked back out the front, she saw Nelson trying to drag himself to one of the cars.

  Stupid fuck.

  Unlike the idiot who shot her, she’d placed her bullet so it shattered his leg. He didn’t have a prayer of walking anywhere.

  She holstered her pistol and then opened the knife. The blood of the two other men she’d killed had dried on it and she hadn’t bothered to clean it. It would only get dirty again.

  She came to a stop just over Nelson, and he turned his head upward, his eyes full of fear as he stared into hers.

  “D-don’t k-kill me,” he stammered. “Please, I’ll do whatever you want. ”

  She shook her head. “You’re a pathetic piece of shit, Nelson. You’re quite the badass when you’re up against a drugged, helpless woman. Not so badass when she’s armed. ”

  She kicked him so he rolled to his back, and he let out another groan when it jarred his leg. Then she knelt awkwardly, grimacing as her own bullet wound protested the motion.

  It should feel empowering to tower over the man who’d brutalized her and know that his fate was entirely up to her. That he was begging her for the mercy he’d been unwilling to give her.

  But all she felt was paralyzing fear. Panic rose, making her shaky where she’d been rock steady just before. She stared into his eyes and remembered staring into them when he’d raped her. They were as soulless now as they’d been then, only then they’d glowed with power. A savagery that he’d enjoyed despite his grumbling that he preferred a fight.

  The knife shook, and she tightened her grip, fully intending to mark him as he’d done her.

  “Where can I find your boss?” she demanded.

  He spit at her, and she backhanded him with the butt of the pistol. Blood streamed from his lips and nose as he turned back to glare his hatred.

  “Tell me what I want to know or I’ll gut you like a pig and leave you here to die a very slow, painful death. The buzzards might not even wait for you to die before they start feasting. ”

  He paled and licked his lips, but he hesitated.

  She flicked the blade at the fly of his pants and deftly sliced the material so it gaped open. Then she pressed the blade under his navel and carved a line from one side to the other, drawing blood.

  He screamed in pain and sucked air through his nostrils. He was gasping like a fish sucking his last breath on land.

  She put the tip of the blade lower until it rested right over his dick. He went completely still, his eyes so wide with fright that they bulged and looked as though they’d pop right out of their sockets.

  “Okay, okay! Just take it easy. I’ll tell you what you want to know. Just put the knife down for God’s sake. ”