The Omega Team_Lethally Yours

Home > Horror > The Omega Team_Lethally Yours > Page 8
The Omega Team_Lethally Yours Page 8

by Denise A. Agnew


  Dana sniffed. “Well, he was a little shit involving you in this Irish mafia stuff.” She used an opener on a bottle of merlot. “It’s hard to feel sympathy, you know?”

  “Yeah it is.”

  “I mean, some of us are willing to help people and others just ignore others who need help, don’t they.”

  Katie wondered if Dana thought she had deliberately overlooked her.

  “I’m sorry, Dana. I should’ve called you and given you an update.”

  Dana looked up from opening the wine. “People forget me a lot.”

  “Forget you?”

  Dana shrugged. “Yeah, you know. They pass over me in favor of other people. Or they just plain don’t notice I’m around.”

  Katie frowned in disbelief. Really? She found it amazing anyone could overlook flamboyant Dana. There wasn’t a thing quiet or retiring about the woman. Katie hated the idea that any employee of the pub would feel unwanted or overlooked. After what they’d experienced with Dicky recently, Katie decided maybe the waitress needed a little attention. Considering all the things that had happened, she couldn’t blame Dana for feeling a little out-of-sorts.

  “Well, I could never forget you,” Katie said. “I’ll help you look for the planner. I’ll start in the office.”

  “Okay, I’ll bring the wine in just a minute.”

  Katie opened the office and it didn’t take long before Dana came in with the glasses of wine. Dana held out Katie’s glass and Dana took it.

  “Here’s to good times and getting things done,” Dana said.

  “Here, here.”

  They gently clinked their glasses together. Katie took a healthy swallow. They started looking in the office. After a few minutes of what seemed to be searching everywhere, and pausing to take sips of wine, Katie noticed something strange. She was sweating like crazy, which didn’t make any sense. After all, the building was pretty cool, and she hadn’t exerted herself that much.

  “Whew, it’s hot in here, don’t you think?” Katie asked.

  Dana laughed softly. “A little.”

  She gave Dana a bigger smile. “Can’t be menopause yet.”

  Dana shook her head. “You’re definitely too young for that, but I’m not. I’m gonna be fifty next month. Can you believe that? I still have a libido, you know. Yet the guys in the bar treat me like I’m an old hag. The things I could show them. The things I could tell them.”

  Uh-oh. Was this woman going straight into too much information land?

  “In fact,” Dana said, “I don’t get much respect from women either.”

  “I’m sorry to hear that.”

  Katie took another swallow of wine and placed her glass on Uncle Malcolm’s desk.

  “Wow, I’m going to tell Uncle Malcolm not to order that wine again,” Katie said. “Either that or we haven’t been washing the glasses well.”

  Dana looked puzzled. “What do you mean? You think it’s bad wine?”

  “It tastes like whoever washed the glasses didn’t get all the soap out of them or something.”

  Dana made a face. “Really?” She looked at her glass. “Mine tastes fine. It is pretty cheap wine, though. Maybe that’s the real culprit.”

  Katie smirked. “You could be right.”

  Maybe she hadn’t eaten enough at her last meal because the wine had started to make Katie floaty. She liked a decent buzz as much as the next person, but this early in the day…probably a mistake.

  They continued the planner search, and the weird feeling increased for Katie. The room seemed to move a little on its own, and Katie grabbed the corner of her uncle’s desk. Her stomach lurched. Damn. Maybe she was coming down with a stomach bug. Just what she didn’t need.

  Dana took another sip of her wine and smiled before also placing her glass on the desk. “Thanks so much for this Katie. You’re a really nice person. It’s too bad.”

  A strange euphoria crested over Katie in a wave.

  Wait. That isn’t right. This isn’t right.

  Katie looked up Dana. “Too bad?”

  Before Katie could analyze, could put any sort of reasonable thought together, Dana reached in her cross body bag and drew out a gun.

  Dana sighed, and her voice suddenly lost its mild southern accent. “Very bad, indeed.”

  She pointed the weapon at Katie.

  Katie’s heart seemed to stop, her thoughts suddenly filled with competing emotions.

  Happiness. Lightness.

  Calmness.

  Utter dread.

  “What is that accent…” Katie couldn’t finish the sentence. She leaned against the desk, her legs like noodles, her heart beating with a slow, thud, thud, thud. “What…? What are you…? Put in my drink…?”

  “We don’t have time for that now. We’re leaving the office.”

  Dana grabbed Katie’s right arm and marched her toward the hallway. Katie staggered and fell into the door frame.

  Fight. Fight. You have to…what is Dana doing?

  Her thoughts struggled when her body wouldn’t. She stumbled and considered escape. Her body didn’t react.

  Dana stabbed the gun into Katie’s side. “Out the back door. Make a sound and try to call for help, and I’ll simply kill you. Then I’ll kill your precious Nathan and your uncle.”

  No. No. I can’t…where are we going?

  Dana shoved open the back door and they spilled out into the alley.

  Katie tried desperately to shrug off the effects of whatever Dana had put in her drink. She pulled out of the woman’s grip.

  “What did you…what…in my drink?” Katie asked.

  Dana waved and a car crept slowly down the alleyway toward them. Katie considered screaming, then thought of death. The weird half euphoria raced through her veins.

  No. No. It couldn’t be.

  It was.

  The sedan that had raced toward Katie and Nathan the other night. Dana propped open the back door with the rock. Katie’s mind felt as if it had been processed through a blender, and weakness crept deeper into her muscles. She swayed on her feet. Before Katie could formulate another thought, the abyss tightened around her ankles and crawled upwards.

  Everything went black.

  Nathan emerged from a thick sleep. What time is it?

  His eyes popped open, and he knew with absolute certainty that something wasn’t right. All his instincts went on line and wiped sleep from his system. He jumped from the couch and looked at the time on the clock above the mantle. He’d been asleep only ten minutes. The unusual panic persisted. Not a sign of Katie anywhere, and for some reason that didn’t seem right either. His stomach did a strange tumble and roll that mimicked nausea, but he understood right away something else caused it. As a Navy SEAL he’d relied on all the skills he’d honed over the years. This time something was so wrong, he couldn’t shake it.

  He looked out of the window overlooking the alley and his blood ran to ice. The sedan that had almost run him and Katie over had parked in the alley near the back door.

  “Shit,” he said under his breath.

  As he left Katie’s apartment, he pulled out his phone and dialed 9-1-1. While they said they were sending the cops right away, Nathan didn’t listen to their advice when they said stay in the apartment until the cops arrived. He hung up on them. He’d deal with consequences later. Instinct told him Katie and possibly Dana were in trouble and even if they weren’t, he wasn’t taking chances.

  He called Malcolm next, explained quickly, and told him to stay in his apartment. The older man spewed four letter words and refused. They agreed to meet on the second floor. He knew Malcolm had a weapon in his living quarters, and he hoped the man’s military and close quarter combat skills would kick in after all these years.

  Nathan grabbed his Sig Sauer P226. Though he’d been a sniper, he’d left that talent and that weapon behind when he left the military. He’d cleaned the Sig Sauer periodically. Knowing the gun could perform if he needed it made him feel better about not going
to the range. He hoped to hell if push came to shove he could hit something. Nathan would be damned if he’d wait for the cops to take care of things when Katie and Dana’s lives might depend on it. After loading the Sig, he headed out.

  Malcolm met him at the stairway. The other man’s steps barely made a sound and thankfully the floorboards in this old place didn’t creek. Good. They needed all the stealth they could get. Malcolm held his shot gun at the ready, just as Nathan held his weapon. Nathan heard unclear voices coming from downstairs.

  “Sounds like they’re close to the bar,” Malcolm whispered.

  Nathan nodded and proceeded down the stairs in front of Malcolm. As they made their way to the bottom of the steps and around the corner that would lead them either to the office and bar area, they used hand signals they’d both learned in the military.

  Nathan came around the corner into the bar, and the first thing he saw was Katie lying on the floor right next to the bar, her body sprawled on her back near bar stools. She lay with her arms akimbo and legs slightly spread, as if someone had placed her there. She hadn’t fallen in that position.

  Training kicked into gear. He could have allowed his control to slip. To see the woman he was falling for injured or dead on the floor could’ve made his heart skip a beat, and a red rage boil inside him. Instead, he compartmentalized. There would be time later for anger, grief, anything else.

  The two Irishmen who’d tried to run him and Katie down stood at the bar along with Dana. Both men wore suits again. The man with his hair in a bun had a handgun visible, while the blond man stood over Katie, hands on his hips. Dana stood behind the bar, her elbows propped on the bar as if ready to serve drinks and chat with customers. She smiled from proverbial ear to ear. She also had a handgun sitting on the bar in front of her. Yeah, she looked damned pleased with herself.

  Then she saw Nathan.

  “Bloody hell,” she said, straightening up.

  Nathan registered immediately that the American accent—southern to be specific—had disappeared from her voice. She’d replaced it with Irish, a thicker sound that reminded Nathan of something from Northern Ireland.

  Her two compatriots swung toward Nathan and Malcolm, guns up. Malcolm stood beside Nathan, shotgun facing off against the Irishmen. The only person who hadn’t reached for a gun was Dana.

  “Well, well, if it isn’t Tweedledee and Tweedledum.” The Irishman with the bun laughed as he kept his weapon level on Nathan. “We’d hoped to be out of here by now, and we would’ve been if Dana hadn’t fecked things up.”

  Dana sneered at bun guy and pointed at her chest. “Shut up. I’m the one who fixed this whole situation. If it wasn’t for me, you still wouldn’t have what you want.”

  Bun guy turned toward her. “Good thing Cormack likes you. I would’ve killed you a long time ago.”

  While the two argued, Nathan wanted to look closer at Katie to assess her condition, but he couldn’t afford to take his attention away from the men.

  “Gobshite,” Dana muttered as she threw a look of disgust at bun man.

  Weary of the arguing, Nathan decided to change the subject.

  “Get away from Katie,” Nathan said.

  The blond man kept his weapon pointed at Nathan, but something in his stance relaxed. “You’re a military man, aren’t you? I recognize that. See, I was in the military myself. In Northern Ireland, as it were. I’m Donald Reardon. The man next to me is Felix Toole.”

  Toole?

  “You related to Cormack Toole?” Malcolm asked.

  Toole nodded. “Dicky’s a distant, distant cousin on my father’s side. Now we’re wasting time here. You need to drop those weapons right now, or there will be blood.”

  Nathan didn’t move a muscle. “I think not.”

  Toole chuckled. “Aren’t you the ballsy boy?”

  “Looks like we’ve got a standoff here.” Dana’s fake southern accent returned, along with her ridiculous smile.

  “Your name even really Dana?” Malcolm asked.

  She smirked. “You don’t need to know.”

  “I feel like a fool for hiring you,” Malcolm said.

  Dana sighed. “Well, nothing like an old fool.”

  Impatience flashed over Toole’s face. “Enough. We need to find that money.”

  “What money?” Malcolm asked.

  “The money Denny stashed in this building. It belongs to Cormack Toole, and he’s bound and determined to get it,” Reardon said.

  “I don’t know anything about money stashed here. You’re barking up the wrong tree,” Malcolm said.

  Reardon made a disbelieving sound. “Dicky refused to tell us, too. You can see where that got him.”

  Toole knelt down and held his gun right to Katie’s forehead, and everything inside Nathan stiffened. His heart froze, threatened to shatter into a thousand pieces. No. God. Damn. It. No.

  Reardon stared at Nathan. “You know that I’ll kill her, so you’ll give me what I want, or she dies.”

  Nathan made a split second decision. He’d been a Navy SEAL, but he wasn’t in law enforcement. If he tried to take this into his own hands with Katie in jeopardy, he could get her killed. Nathan and Malcolm could die right along with her. It was better to finesse this rather than use brutal force. If he surrendered he could die, but he had to take this chance. Right now he was wishing like hell he’d asked Finn to stay at the pub as well as extra security, but the man had his own life to lead.

  “All right. We’ll put down our weapons and help you find this cash on one condition. You let Katie go,” Nathan said.

  Katie heard three words as she came awake.

  “Let Katie go.”

  The words sounded weird, as if someone had put them through a distortion filter. She recognized Nathan’s voice, and the relief that came along with it was profound. Other than that, the things people were saying made little sense. Whatever she was lying on was hard as hell and cold. Her muscles ached. She only half remembered what had happened.

  Dana.

  Drinking wine.

  Fuzziness. Dizziness. Weakness and nausea.

  What the hell had happened?

  “No,” a male voice said. “You’re a wise man, McKay, but you’re a dumbass if you think I won’t just kill her right now. Put down the weapons or she’s dead.”

  That voice sounds familiar.

  The asshole who’d tried touching her butt the other night. Alarm mixed with a sluggishness Katie couldn’t shake off. She tried moving, but her body didn’t cooperate. That weakness still had a hold on her.

  “All right.” Nathan’s voice sounded steady. “We’ll drop our weapons.”

  “Slow and easy,” one of the Irishmen said.

  Katie heard people moving around.

  “I need to check her out. Make sure she’s okay,” Nathan said. “What did you do to her? Why is she unconscious?”

  “GHB in her wine,” Dana said.

  “GHB?” Malcolm asked.

  “Date rape drug,” Nathan said.

  As a nurse, Katie understood, and that explained her symptoms. She was lucky Dana hadn’t given her a fatal dose. Then again, the drug could cause other complications, so maybe she wasn’t out of the woods yet. She struggled with the effects, a little nausea rolling in her stomach.

  A moment later Katie felt a warm palm on her forehead, then someone checking her pulse at her wrist.

  “Katie?” Nathan asked, his voice soft and deep. She could feel his breath on her face. He was so close. “Can you hear me?”

  Making a supreme effort, she peeled her eyes open and focused. Nathan knelt next to her, his hand sweeping over her hair in a comforting gesture. Malcolm stood over them.

  “Thank God.” Relief filled Malcolm’s voice.

  “Nathan.” Katie couldn’t seem to get anything else past her lips.

  Nathan leaned forward and smiled at her. “You’re going to be all right.” He straightened a little and looked at the other people around them. “I need
to get her off this floor. Let me take her to her apartment where she can rest.”

  “No. She isn’t going upstairs where we can’t see what she’s doing,” the blond man said. “She’ll stay down here.”

  “What about my office?” Malcolm said. “There’s a couch in there.”

  “We’re wasting time,” the man with the bun said. “Hurry up and get her in there.”

  Nathan eased Katie into a sitting position and helped her stand. When she wavered on her feet, he lifted and carried her. She held on, arms around his neck and head against his shoulder. She didn’t have enough strength yet to do much, and she hated feeling this powerless. Fear started to penetrate the fogginess. Her mind had trouble centering on one concept, and that frightened her almost as much as the situation. After Nathan laid her on the couch, she scooted up into a sitting position.

  He knelt beside the couch and drew her close for a second, his forehead against hers. “How are you feeling?”

  “Weird. But I think it’s starting to wear off a little.”

  He drew back. Doubt and a frown filled his face, but he nodded. “It’s going to be okay.”

  She nodded and placed her palm on his cheek. “I know.”

  I want to believe that. I really want to believe that.

  “Enough. Toole, you take the men back into the bar while I look around here,” the blond man said.

  Toole? Katie registered the name. She wanted to ask dozens of questions, but her mind still refused to focus one hundred percent, and she doubted the questions would get answered.

  “I’m not leaving her in here alone with you,” Nathan said. “I’ll stay and help you look for this cash you claim is in here.”

  “So it’s like that, is it?” The blond man smirked. “You got a thing for her?”

  “Yeah.” Nathan’s no nonsense answer came without hesitation. “She’s mine.”

  The primitive, man-pounding-his-chest statement took Katie off guard. Part of her disliked against the whole idea of a man declaring that she was his, and the other part of her liked it. It occurred to her, though, that maybe Nathan had said it only because he wanted the blond dude to understand hands off or there would be consequences. With a criminal mind no one could be sure how the blond would react. Maybe he’d see Nathan’s declaration as a challenge.

 

‹ Prev