The Perfect Ten Boxed Set

by Dianna Love

  The bullet came out of nowhere, shattering the passenger window, and hitting Lana in the back. She bent forward, a startled expression on her face, pausing for a split second before her eyes rolled up in her head, and she pitched forward. Her gun landed at Celina’s feet.

  Valquis’ face appeared in the empty window, his thin lips parting in an evil grin. “Hola, chica. Miss me? Ah, I know you did. We’re going to get reacquainted soon. Take a little drive to see Emilio.”

  “I don’t think so,” Celina said and dived for Lana’s gun.

  Chapter Thirty-five

  Lana’s gun was unfamiliar, but the adrenaline pumping in her veins didn’t care. Gun, hand, trigger.

  Good thing she could shoot with either hand. Bad thing, the safety was on.

  Flicking off the safety, she scrambled behind the second row seats, raised the gun, and fired at the window.

  As always, Valquis was a step ahead of her. Her shot hit nothing, flying out the window and into the desert.

  Celina resumed her cover behind the seat. Valquis wouldn’t shoot her. Hurt her, yes, but she was sure his orders were to take her to Emilio. Shooting her would be too messy. He’d smack her around, knock her out, tie her up. Easier to transport.

  Trapped in a van. A killer outside. No one knew where she was.

  Call Cooper.

  Retrieving her phone, however, would mean putting down the gun. No way was she doing that.

  “Come on, chica. Don’t make this harder than it has to be.”

  Valquis’ voice came from the area around the rear right panel of the van. He was taunting her. He couldn’t see in, but if she squinted, she could make out his form through the dark windows.

  She raised the gun, aimed.

  The shadow moved, disappeared.

  Keeping the gun trained on the general vicinity of the rear windows, she used her bandaged hand to grope for her phone. Her wrist was immovable, but her fingers landed on the cool plastic of the cover and she breathed a sigh of relief. The damn wrist splint limited her hand’s ability to grip anything, though, and the phone slipped through her hand and dropped to the floor of the van.

  The air in the van was hot and sticky. Sweat trickled between her breasts. Distant car noises drifted in through the open window. Camp Pendleton seemed like the ideal place to find help, but the base covered over a hundred-thousand acres of Southern California terrain. Acres of nothing but desert, scrub trees, and hot sunshine beating down on her.

  The freeway and its traffic was a better bet. If she could get to the freeway, she could get help.

  Or I can end this. Right here, right now.

  Making up her mind, she firmed her hold on the gun. “I’m coming out!” she yelled. “Don’t shoot.”

  Cooper gunned the bike on the freeway, didn’t slow down through Oceanside, weaving in and out of cars, scaring pedestrians and picking up a patrol car in the process. He had to get to Celina. Never should have let her leave his house without him.

  Another patrol car joined the chase, but after a minute, Cooper realized they weren’t trying to pull him over, just keep up with him. Dyer had come through, no doubt, calling the locals for backup in case Cooper needed them.

  He hoped he didn’t. He hoped he’d have to apologize and get his ass kicked by Kipfer and Dupé for causing trouble. He hoped he was totally wrong about Lana.

  When had he ever been wrong about her?

  Swearing into the wind, he revved the motorcycle’s engine even harder.

  Chapter Thirty-six

  The side van door would slide open; the back ones would swing outward. Choices, choices.

  Celina slid over to the back double doors. If she could make a claw with her injured hand, she could ease it open without having to lower her gun…

  “Throw out your gun first, chica,” Valquis commanded.

  What would he do if she didn’t comply? If she just stepped out, gun in hand, and confronted him face-to-face?

  She jerked on the handle, ready to do just that. The door wouldn’t budge.

  Damn. The child locks.

  “I’m unlocking the doors,” she called out. “The child locks are on.”

  No reply. Celina picked her way to the front, checked for pulses on Lana and Quarters. Both were weak, but there. She shrugged off her jacket, padded Lana’s bleeding chest. There was nothing she could do for Quarters without more time.

  She didn’t have time. Maneuvering her arm over the front seat, she hit the unlock button. A soft click resonated through the interior. Glancing down, she closed her eyes against the sight of Quarters’ bloody head. His body still leaned against the steering wheel, arms down at his sides.

  Wiping sweat from her forehead with her arm, she glanced out the front and side windows, keeping an eye out for Valquis. She spotted part of him in the side view mirror on the passenger side. He stood, waiting, every muscle tense, but confidence radiating off of him. He knew he had her.

  Keeping her eye on him, she laid down Lana’s gun, removed her holster, and laid it on the floor. Taking her gun, she stuck it in the waistband of her pants at the small of her back. Then she dug out her phone.

  Valquis stepped closer to the van, raised his gun. “Ándale! Get out here.”

  His gaze caught hers in the side mirror. Celina froze, letting the phone slip back into her pants pocket. Her holster and Lana’s gun still lay on the floor at her feet. He couldn’t see it, so she kept her eyes steady on his as she covertly used her foot to slide the gun backwards and out of sight in case he came to the window. “I can’t get through the dead bodies, thanks to you. I’m coming out the back.”

  Without waiting for a reply, she slid into the darkened interior, grabbing Lana’s gun and feeling the solid weight of her own weapon in her waistband.

  Easing one of the back doors open, she held out Lana’s gun, then dropped it to the ground. “I’m unarmed.”

  He lowered his weapon, motioned at her to come out.

  She opened the door the rest of the way, climbed out with her hands in the air. The sun hit her with its hot glare. The air shimmered with mid-day heat.

  Valquis smiled. “That wasn’t so hard, was it?” He pointed the black barrel of his gun at her, motioned for her to walk. “Move.”

  She had to make her stand here. If she turned her back on him, he’d see the hidden weapon. If he got her in that truck, she was dead.

  “I’m not going anywhere with you.”

  He came at her like a tiger pouncing on a gazelle. He shoved her against the second van door, still closed, and put his face in hers. She let him think he had the upper hand, allowing him to press his body against hers. His smelled like day-old body odor and his breath reeked. “Always so cocky. I will cut that out of you.”

  God, that smell. Don’t throw up, don’t throw up… “You can try.”

  Her challenge only made him grin. “We are going to have lots of fun together.”

  “You can’t hurt me. Emilio ordered you to bring me to him, didn’t he? You stashed him well. He’s not in Mexico, either, I bet. He’s here. Somewhere close.”

  “He’s nearby. Where do you think a man like him would hideout? He’s still head of the cartel, still has deals to make with his friends. Mexico has some nice getaways, but America is his home.”

  His home. Celina had been to the Londano estates several times during the undercover op. The government had confiscated that house and property, but Valquis was right. Emilio had a lifestyle to maintain, expectations he wanted fulfilled. Where would he find a place similar to his own house?

  She needed more info. “Why go to all this trouble to get revenge on me?”

  Valquis snorted. “You put him in prison, chica. Cut into his very profitable business dealings and cost him dearly. If he doesn’t make you an example, he will be a laughing stock. Others will try to hold it over his head that he was bested by a pretty woman. His street status used to exalt him over everyone. He needs to restore that.”

  “Getti
ng revenge on me won’t restore his street cred.”

  “You don’t give yourself enough credit.” Valquis ran a finger down her cheek, pinched it. “I am very much looking forward to making you an example.”

  The threat should have put the fear of God in her. But she would never let it get to that point. “I look forward to it. I’d rather have you than Emilio, so why don’t we blow him off and go our own way? Together. Partners. I’m tired of the FBI game.”

  The odd statement threw him off. He hesitated. “What?”

  It would be great if the cavalry came right now. A jeep full of Marines, investigating the cars and the gunshots, racing in with guns raised and dust flying. The spot they were in was too far from the main base, though. No one would have heard the shots, and gunshots and explosions were hourly occurrences around a military base. No one would investigate a few measly handgun pops.

  All she wanted to do was put as much space as possible between her and Valquis, but Cooper had taught her to charge forward in situations like this, rather than rearing back. She shifted her hands and lightly placed them on Valquis’ chest. “You. I’ve always wanted to be with you. I like it rough, you know.”

  He believed her for half a second, but half a second was all she needed. In one fluid movement, she slid her hands down to his waist, pulled him in hard, and at the same time, jammed her knee up toward his balls.

  Valquis hadn’t become Emilio’s second in command by being an easy target. A split-second before her knee connected, he shifted, and her knee merely grazed his precious parts, slamming instead into the inside of his thigh.

  He shoved her hard, but she hung onto him, keeping him off balance. They both fell to the ground, Celina kicking his shin with the heel of her shoe. He grabbed her by the ponytail, yanked her head back. She slammed a fist into his nose, felt bone snap underneath it.

  He grunted and rolled away, striking her head with the butt of the gun. Pain exploded behind her eyes and her vision blurred. Gaining his feet, he kicked her in the ribs, lifting her body from the ground with the effort. She landed against the wheel of the van.

  Although her ears rang, Celina heard the sound of a motorcycle. No surprise, since the freeway was only a few hundred feet away. The thing that caught her attention was that the sound was growing louder, the cycle coming closer. Had someone seen them? Was an innocent bystander coming to help her?

  Valquis would kill whoever it was. She knew it. No way was she letting one more person die at his hands.

  He was getting ready to kick her again when the motorcycle did indeed roar around the stand of trees and fishtail to a stop a few yards away. Valquis stopped in mid-kick and turned. Celina caught a brief glance of the man on the bike and sucked in a breath. Cooper?

  Hot damn. The cavalry’s here.

  Her vision swam, creating three of Valquis as she sat up, but her hand was steady, finding the butt of her gun in her waistband and yanking it free.

  “I’ve got…” she called to Cooper, feeling sick again. This, she finished mentally.

  Cooper yelled something that was lost in the sound of a dozen sirens as a squadron of police cars arrived, lights flashing and sirens blaring. Valquis crouched, running for the truck and raising his weapon to fire on Cooper.

  Focusing on the middle version of his crouched and running form, Celina popped the trigger…once, twice, three times.

  All three versions of her target arched in unison, staggered, and fell.

  Chapter Thirty-seven

  “Celina!”

  Cooper’s heart slammed against his ribcage so hard he thought he might be having a heart attack. After nailing Val, Celina had slumped sideways. Her eyelids drooped, her hand released the gun. She was too pale and sweating profusely.

  He knew Val was dead without checking for a pulse. His fiery rookie had shot the man three times in the center of his back. The coroner would find his heart and lungs shredded from her accuracy.

  Cooper lifted her from the hot, sandy ground and moved her to a shady spot under the trees. As the cops Dyer had alerted went to work securing the body, reporting the crime, and checking for survivors in the vehicles, he eased her down to the ground and checked her for fresh injuries.

  There was a slight swelling on the side of her head. Nothing else he could visibly see. One of the cops handed him a bottled water and told him they’d found bodies in the van. Both had sustained gunshot wounds. Both were still alive. Barely, but there was hope. Cooper told him who they were as an ambulance siren sounded in the distance.

  “Celina.” He gently patted her cheek. “Wake up, sweetheart, and drink some water.”

  Her eyelids fluttered open. Her brown eyes slowly focused on him. He cradled her head and she sipped some of the water he offered.

  “Did I get him?” she asked.

  “Bull’s-eye to the back.”

  She sat up fully, whisked a few strands of hair away from her eyes. It seemed to take her a minute to find her balance. “Where’s the gun?”

  “It’s been confiscated by the police for evidence. Why?”

  Locking onto Valquis’ body, she leveraged herself to a standing position using the nearest tree trunk. “Give me your gun.”

  “For what?”

  “I’m going to shoot him again.”

  She was delusional from the heat. “He’s dead, sweetheart. You don’t need to shoot him again.”

  “I want to shoot him again. A bullet for everyone he killed or hurt.” She held out her hand, wiggled her fingers. “Give me your damn gun.”

  Not delusional. Just vengeful.

  He liked it. “You need medical care, and the cops need a statement.”

  “Screw that. I owe him.”

  “Save that anger for Emilio. He’s still on the run.”

  That got her. Her gaze swung to his. “Then let’s go get him.”

  “We can head for Mexico after you see a doctor.”

  “Emilio’s not in Mexico.”

  Cooper checked her pupils to make sure her head injury wasn’t messing with her logic. They looked normal, her eyes simply determined. “Then where is he?”

  She headed for the bike before he finished speaking, staggering slightly. “Right under our noses.”

  One of the wet-behind-the-ears cops rushed over to her with a fresh bottle of water and a healthy stare. She waved off the water, and patted his cheek. “No, thanks.”

  He looked flustered and Cooper shook his head and sent the guy away. “Did Val tell you where Emilio was hiding out?”

  “Londano’s house in the hills is still vacant, isn’t it?”

  “Yeah.” Cooper wasn’t following. “As far as I know, nothing was done to it after he went to prison. Too much red tape tying things up. Everyone from the FBI to Homeland and the Mexican Federales want their cut, so it’s sitting empty while the courts figure out who gets what. Why?”

  “Something Valquis said. The way Emilio lives – what he needs to live and operate his enterprise. His house fits the bill in a way nothing else can. It was specially designed for him. Lana may have even known he was there. She made a deal with Valquis to draw him out. That’s how he knew to meet us here.” She sighed heavily. “And that deal cost her her life.”

  “She’s not dead. Not yet, anyway.”

  A look of surprise mixed with relief flashed over Celina’s features. “Quarters?”

  “Still breathing. Ambulance is on its way.”

  “Lana wanted to be the hero. She thought she could blackmail Valquis and save the day. Think about it, Cooper. This type of score would have catapulted her career into the stratosphere.”

  He stared at her for a moment, pulled out his cell and speed-dialed Dyer.

  “You catch up with her?” Dyer said by way of greeting.

  “Everything’s cool. She killed Valquis.”

  “No shit. Really? How’s she holding up?”

  “Time will tell. I need you to assemble the team and send them to Londano’s house in San Dieg
o.”

  “He doesn’t have a house anymore.”

  “His former place. The one the Feds confiscated. Celina thinks he may have holed up there.”

  “Nah. Lana had it under surveillance. We would have known if he tried to move back in. He’s still in Mexico.”

  “Like Val was? I’m looking at Val’s dead body right now. Everything points to Emilio being here too.”

  “Put an extra round in Val for me. Make sure he’s good and dead.”

  Celina was quiet, staring at the cops administering basic emergency care to Lana and Quarters. Her eyes were flat, her arms crossed tightly over her chest as if holding herself together.

  “Lana was running her own game behind the scenes,” he told Dyer. “Which may have involved cutting deals with Emilio and Valquis. Celina and I are heading to the house now. Send the rest of the team.”

  “The team is off to Mexico, remember? I’m all you’ve got.”

  Damn. He’d forgotten about the manhunt. The wild goose chase. It had been one damn good distraction after all. “Lana sent everyone to Mexico while she stayed here to capture Valquis and Emilio.” He shook his head. “Damn woman. I knew she was ambitious, but this takes the cake.”

  “I’ll call Dupé. Some of his other agents can meet you at Londano’s.”

  “No. No FBI. I don’t know who we can trust at this point. Sounds like Lana was working alone, but we still may have a leak in the ranks. Word goes out we know where Londano’s hiding, and he’s in the wind again.”

  “If he’s even there.”

  “Yeah, if. It’s our best lead, though.”

  “You shouldn’t go alone.”

  “We’ll recon the place to start. I see anything suspicious, I’ll call Kipfer or Dupé.”

  “I don’t like it.”

  Seemed like they were both saying that a lot these days.

  He didn’t like it either. Taking Celina to Londano’s was poor protocol. Not calling for backup was as asinine as Lana cutting a deal with Valquis. The whole situation went against his training and experience, but what choice did he have? He needed to follow Celina’s instincts. She hadn’t been wrong yet. “I’ll check in as soon as I have something to report.”