Mentally calculating how many magazines she could carry, which automatic rifle she should pack, and how many hand grenades she could stuff into the pockets of a clean pair of cargo pants, she prepared for a frontal assault on the cult. Before the day was through, Cain and his despot buddies would lay in smoking ruins. This wasn’t the first fight she’d been in, and it wouldn’t be the last, but it would be memorable.
Alex Stewart’s ice blue eyes flashed to her mind in the middle of her mental rant. Training caught up with her out of control need for revenge. Her plan evaporated. It lacked finesse and strategy. A frontal assault was foolish. Not only would it be costly in lives and firepower, but it was wrong. Illegal. Immoral. She sighed. Damn it.
It was hard not to get carried away in the face of Cain’s depravity, but she worked for Alex. Revenge might be sweet, but this operation had to be handled correctly and with honor. She couldn’t impugn his name anymore than the agents she worked with.
No allegations must linger when this operation was done. No doubt. The sterling reputation of The TEAM couldn’t be dragged through the mud for her self-serving vendetta. Not only would Alex not approve of revenge tactics, but that wasn’t why he’d hired her in the first place. She wasn’t a bounty hunter or a mercenary. She was better than that. Most of the time. But sometimes she just wanted to kick ass and get the job done.
Unwilling to let the image of Cain’s smoking carcass go, Cassidy kicked at a rock. The feel of Jude’s strong arms around her evoked an image of his grumpy face, and poof! Cain was gone. Jude won the contest, hands down.
The man didn’t smile, even after she’d kissed him back there at the wall, and she knew why. He was focused on his daughter, and because he was, Cassidy was, too.
Not one to wallow in self-pity or worry about bumps and bruises, she lengthened her stride. She’d promised she would be packing some serious firepower when she returned, and she’d meant it. She might not go in hot, but she was definitely going back, and she would take Rourke with her. Speaking of which, where was he?
The prickly sensation that she was being watched dropped to one knee behind the scrub oak at the edge of camp. Cautiously, she peered through the leafy branches. Nothing seemed to be out of place. Both black TEAM vans were still parked where she’d left them. The utility trailer that stored the generator and supplies as well as weaponry and ammo was still attached to the one van.
Her sixth sense pinged on higher alert. The hair on the back of her neck stood up. Someone had her in their scope, and—
A gun barrel pressed hard into the back of her skull.
Shit. They followed me. Cassidy sucked in a deep breath and lifted her hands, prepared to kick the legs out from under whoever stood behind her if she got the chance.
“Where the hell have you been?”
She dropped her hands and whirled on her agent-in-charge instead. “Rourke?”
Oh, great. He’d ambushed her with nothing more than the end of his scope, his rifle still strapped over his shoulder. She huffed a sigh of relief, never so happy to see the big guy who had her back when the smoke cleared.
“Hey,” she offered meekly as she jumped to her feet.
No smile welcomed her return. His brows furrowed into a dark V. Those twinkling hazel brown lasers skated down her scantily clothed body and up again. He never cracked the briefest hint of relief. Not good. “Answer me. Where the hell have you been, Butch?”
For one brief nano-second, embarrassment at her flimsy attire flooded her mind. Her insubordination, too, but mostly her flimsy get up. Rourke had never seen so much of her as he was seeing then. “I’ve been inside the—”
“You did exactly what I told you not to do, didn’t you?”
She cringed, hating the ice in his tone. Still, she wasn’t going to take it. She’d done what was right, like it or not. “Yes, I did. I—”
“And how’d that work out for you?” He reached two fingers to the scrape on her forehead, the one she’d received when Greg had rammed her face under water. But instead of smoothing over the wound like she’d expected, he snapped his fingernail into it, like it was a marble he meant to shoot to the moon. It stung, damn it.
“Ouch! Knock it off!” Now her dander was up, and Rourke could take a flying leap. “I got inside, which is more than you did,” she countered, taking a step back and out of his reach. “Plus I got good intel. Now I know exactly—”
“You don’t know shit. You disobeyed a direct order!”
She blinked and took another step backward, but only because he’d taken a threatening step closer. He was fast reaching the end of her good humor.
“We’re a team!” He stowed the scope in the gear bag on his belt. “Team members don’t take off on a wild goose chase. They don’t move out until everyone’s geared up and ready to march. They sure as hell don’t leave their partner behind. Damn it, Dancer, I’m senior agent and you ain’t squat, you got that?”
Cassidy squared her shoulders. Right now he wanted to hear ‘Yes, sir,’ like she was a meek little lamb or something. Well, how’s it feel to want?
“I made two contacts,” she spat back at him, even as a quiver of regret shivered over her shoulders for betraying his trust. “Not all of Cain’s followers are—”
“What? You march down there in the middle of the night, and the first person you run into tells you exactly what you want to hear? You ever think maybe that person is as big a fool as you are? Maybe he’s lying so he can get something from you? What’d you tell ’em, anyway?”
She rubbed the knot on the back of her head and gulped. How could she admit that she’d told Jude everything?
Rourke’s eyes zeroed in on the burn on her chin. “Are you hurt?”
“No,” she answered quickly.
“Yes. She is.”
Alex? Cassidy whirled again, embarrassed she hadn’t heard his approach any better than Rourke’s. Two fatal errors in less than a few minutes, and one of them was the man she respected a whole lot more than Agent O’Neill. She was a dead man; make that a dead woman, standing.
“I’m not hurt,” she insisted.
Alex walked straight to her side. “Yes, you are.”
“I knew you were in deep the minute I heard Cain in my earpiece.” Rourke’s tone had softened.
Oh, hell. Not that. Cassidy couldn’t deal with him using that tender touch on her. “I overreacted. I made a mistake. I heard Cain and his whore discussing Melissa.” She stuck her palms to her hips, determined not to apologize anymore than she had to. “Did you know there are two Melissas in that stupid cult? They’re both widows, and they’re both blonde? Cain and Jerusha were planning to do something to one of them. She refused to turn over all of her assets. I thought she was Melissa McCormack. You tell me. What was I to do?”
He nodded as if he agreed and understood, damn him. Rourke could play her like a harp with those gentling skills he had. Angry one minute, kind the next. His eyes turned liquid, and Cassidy felt her leg bones melting. If he said anything nice, anything at all, she’d turn into a puddle at his feet.
“I get it. You mistook the wrong Melissa for Jed’s daughter-in-law. Easy mistake for a novice operator. Go on.”
She really wanted to argue with that novice operator crack, but she simply could. Not. Think. Not stuck there between two alpha males with eyes like eagles.
“You’re right.” Damn. Did I just say that? Must have. The confession just kept rolling over her tongue and off her lips. “I should’ve coordinated with you before I made my move. I’m sorry. It won’t happen again.”
Rourke winked as if he knew precisely how to coax compliance out of her. Sheesh. Maybe he did.
“You’ve got blood in your hair,” Alex informed her like she didn’t already know that. “And your forehead’s black and blue.”
Rourke took another appraising gander over her skimpy get-up. There she stood, dressed in nothing more than a thigh-high piece of see-through nothing, someone else’s bloomers and hiking
boots, and two handsome men were checking her out. Could a tough gal be more humiliated?
Alex cupped her shoulder. That gesture of camaraderie was bad enough, but his next words pushed her over the edge. “Did Cain hurt you?”
She stared at him, blinking like a bunny rabbit with its head in a wire loop. The thing about Alex was he could spot a lie in a heartbeat, and her heart was beating plenty. But this wasn’t the way she’d planned on returning to camp—not as a weak female who couldn’t handle herself under pressure. Unfortunately, someone forgot to tell her big mouth that.
“Yes,” she answered quietly.
“What’d he do to you?” Alex’s voice hardened.
“Nothing,” Cassidy looked away, blinking tears she wouldn’t let fall. Staring into the scrub oak gave her the reprieve she needed.
Alex didn’t press. Instead, his hand stayed where it was while he spoke to Rourke. He only said one word. “Tonight.”
“Yes, Boss,” Rourke affirmed.
But Cassidy wasn’t smart enough to know when to keep her big mouth shut. “Tonight’s too late.”
“No,” Alex said sternly. “Tonight is soon enough. It gives us time to prepare.”
“No, Boss.” She held her ground. “It isn’t. We’ve got to move now. I’ve got two contacts inside who—”
“Whom you put in danger because you acted without backup or forethought,” Rourke bellowed. His gaze hardened. “Isn’t that right, junior agent?”
Damn. Why’d he pull that condescending junior agent card? It made her sound like a wannabe. “They both helped me,” she growled back at him. “I won’t let them risk their lives just because I—”
“You’ll do what you’re told.” Rourke’s retort cut her off quick and neat at the knees. His order had the desired effect, and she hated it because he was right. Alex owned the ammo and weaponry she needed to rescue Jude. She couldn’t go in alone—not this time. She needed to be well armed. A couple ex-military snipers at her back would be nice, and, oh, by the way, she had yet to come up with a good plan. Everything hung in the balance.
The enormity of all she stood to lose sneaked up on her. She’d left Jude behind. Judith was going to be blessed. And Cain had her SIG. She still had to confess that major blunder. Good operators didn’t lose their weapons. Her fists clenched and unclenched at her side. Quitting wasn’t an option. Anger or tears? Wait or charge straight into danger?
Alex diffused the standoff. “Go take a shower, Cassidy.”
She glanced at him, not willing to back down.
“Clean clothes wouldn’t hurt.” He pulled her gently in step beside him, forcing compliance. “Where’d you get that get-up?”
“From the man who helped me escape.”
“What’s his name?”
“Jude Cannon. He finally found his daughter, Judith. She’s supposed to be blessed and—” The thought of sweet Judith forced to submit to a pig like Cain took the compliance right out of Cassidy. Her backbone stiffened. She stopped walking like a docile lamb to the shower and twisted out of Alex’s grip. “I can’t.”
Marching to the nearest van, she flung the rear door open. She had a job to do and she’d made a promise. End of story. Her gear bag was right where she’d left it, complete with several changes of clothing, her spare pistol, and a few loaded magazines. Grabbing her towel, shower kit, and a clean bundle of clothes, she slammed the door and faced her very worthy adversaries.
“After I shower, I’m going back to Jude like I promised,” she announced with all the willfulness she could muster. “I’ve got a fourteen-year-old girl to save from rape, and there isn’t a damn thing either of you can do to stop me. Sit here in camp and do nothing. Play it safe. I don’t care, but I’m going. Get out of my way.”
The déjà vu of the moment didn’t escape her. The words she’d just uttered sounded exactly like what she’d told her DEA superior the day he’d refused to step up and assist innocent people at risk from the infamous Sonoran drug cartel in Utah. That was why she’d quit in the middle of what had turned out to be a damned bloody op that took her into Sonora Mexico, and almost got Mark Houston and junior agent Rory Dennison killed. The DEA’s failure to act created the mess Alex had assumed responsibility for. Why couldn’t he see that this was the exact same thing?
Rourke stood with his arms locked over his chest, his lips pursed and a closed-minded set to his jaw. Alex, on the other hand, had a scant smile on his smug face. “You’re right, junior agent. You got a plan?”
She faltered. When he said junior agent, it held no sting or rebuke. It meant something. He trusted her. But she had no plan other than to blow Cain off the face of the earth, his Elite along with him. Greg and Hank for sure. She bit her lip in remorse for not being as good as her boss thought she was. Damn it, Alex. How do you do this to me?
He must’ve read her mind. “While you’re showering, Rourke and I will start breakfast. Then we’ll bring you up to speed.”
“Up to speed?”
“Go.” Alex shooed her off toward the makeshift canvas shower stall that Rourke had rigged up beside one of the vans. “Shower first. Then eat. Collaborate later.”
Cassidy nodded obediently. Alex wasn’t anything like her old supervisor. He wasn’t the DEA. He might be a gruff cuss, but he cared.
Chapter Ten
“Well. Well. Well.”
Cain stalked at the gaping mouth of the open root cellar. He’d called an early meeting, and all in the north compound were commanded to attend. Everyone stood, wondering what their prophet wanted. The chickens hadn’t been fed. The pigs were hungry, despite the fact that they’d had a midnight snack. Not even morning prayers had been offered yet, which the congregation did en masse before breakfast, want to or not.
“It seems we’ve had an intruder,” Cain announced. “A spy and an interloper—one who would tear this noble congregation apart from within.”
Jude kept his head down, fearful Cain might be able to read minds like he claimed. Jude had made it back to the compound without notice, but he had yet to sleep. Once he helped round up the last of the squealing pigs, he’d offered to repair the fence. After all, he was the golden boy at the moment. Besides, he needed something to keep his mind off Cassidy. With no way to contact her, he had only faith and her promise to count on.
In the light of day, trusting a woman he didn’t really know seemed like one of his dumber decisions. He’d heard promises before, but the cold, hard truth was that he’d saved her life instead of Judith’s and wasted valuable time in the process. What if he never saw Cassidy again? What if she didn’t come back? Desperate people lied. He wouldn’t blame her, but what if he’d risked everything for nothing?
“There stands in the heart of this humble flock, a liar, a person who is not who we thought he or she was.”
A murmur rolled through the gathering. Sunbonnets bobbed. Men and women clucked to each other as that news settled. Jude shifted his weight from one foot to the other, anxious to see how this meeting would evolve. He’d witnessed Cain’s gatherings before. This was retribution time. Anyone who could offer evidence of another’s guilt would be rewarded. The guilty would be punished swiftly, thoroughly, and without due process.
Hysteria ruled, and mob opinion was the wildfire that fed it. Anything could happen. Like all those bones lying in the tunnel below the silo. Maybe there was one more degree of hell in this sickening cult. Death. It made sense. The Elite were capable. Even now Hank and Greg stood beside Cain, waiting for someone to crack.
“It’s time to step forward. Come. Confess your sins.” Cain’s sharp eyes surveyed his followers. A few members nearest to him shuffled uncomfortably. Others glanced at their neighbors. The woman behind Jude began whispering the Lord’s Prayer. She got as far as, ‘hallowed be thy name,’ when Cain got to the point.
“I want to know who aided and abetted the escape of the woman in the barn yesterday,” he bellowed, pointing to his left as if nobody knew where the barn was. “She did
n’t get out of there on her own two feet!”
People gasped. Hank and Greg snapped to stiffer attention. Cain’s sharp eyes coursed over the flock before him, glaring at some, sneering at others. But no one stepped forward to confess.
Jude held his breath and watched the drama unfold.
“I know what I’m asking is a hard thing. Only a true believer would have the courage of true faith to admit his weakness for the flesh.” Cain’s voice turned to conniving silk. “But if no one will confess, justice must still be served.” With his long, steepled fingers to his lips, he closed his eyes and turned to Hank. “How hot is it supposed to be today?”
“Hot, Prophet Cain. Maybe one hundred degrees.” Hank sneered at the congregation, his eyes full of contempt. “Maybe hotter than hell.”
Cain nodded, his eyes still closed. A man could almost believe he was in communication with the powers of heaven, if not for the arrogant tilt of his head and the twitch of his nose. When he lifted his head and opened his eyes, Jude saw the wolf in sheep’s clothing. There was no other way to describe him. Cain’s gray-blue eyes darkened. His brows spiked. The so-called loving prophet had turned into an alpha predator with no need for the flock at his feet other than to eat them alive.
“The Lord hates a liar and a coward,” he declared in the singsong voice he utilized best when preaching.
“Yes, Prophet Cain,” the nervous congregation chanted. “The Lord hates a liar and a coward.”
God. Make him stop. In a moment, Cain would single out one of the innocents for abuse until the guilty caved in and confessed.
“And what is the punishment for a liar and a coward?” Cain railed.
“Liars and cowards must burn in hellfire,” the people chanted woodenly, their focus on the ground, the same as Jude’s. No one dared look at their fierce leader, not now when he could strike them dead.
Jude gritted his teeth. This was his fault. Cassidy needed to escape, and he’d needed to make sure she was safe. But now...
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