He persisted. “You do, don’t you?”
Well, wasn’t that a bunch of interesting? It sounded like Mr. Hands-Off was suddenly jealous of a guy he hadn’t met. Why now? Rourke had had plenty of time to make a move before, but he hadn’t, and that was where Cassidy reached her limit. Confidence sharing time ended. “You got any extra mags on you?”
He tossed her two, one after the other. As she caught them, Cassidy slipped them into the last empty pocket of her cargo pants, the best invention on earth for a covert agent. The wall had just come into view, stretched along the western cult property like a concrete snake basking in the sun, its venom all stored on the opposite side.
“Be careful, Butch,” Rourke said quietly. “You just met this guy, this Cannon dude. Take it slow. Don’t do anything stupid.”
That raised Cassidy’s hackles. “What do you care?” she asked, suddenly angry. Her nerves were tight. The last thing she needed was unwarranted advice from someone who had yet to make a move on her, who should’ve done it a long time ago if he’d ever wanted to, and who’d certainly had plenty of opportunity. But Rourke hadn’t, had he? Not once. So what if she liked Jude? Why should she hang around and wait for hell to freeze over?
Her spike of blistering anger met the kind warmth of Rourke’s hazel eyes. The smile that curled his lips was small, almost sad. “Believe it or not, I do care. I don’t want to see you hurt.”
“I’m fine,” she huffed. Fine time to tell me that worthless piece of yesterday’s news, O’Neill.
Alex shot her a quick and questioning look when she tossed her pack to the ground.
“You guys want to hoist me up or should I use the hook?” she asked, her eyes upward, mentally calculating the jump she needed to make, and done worrying about Rourke and his feelings. A toss up would be quicker, but the climbing rope would work just as well, and she was done wondering and waiting on a guy who was obviously more worried about his career than her. Sheesh!
“On three.” Alex knelt, his gloved fingers interlocked as he transformed into her catapult.
She took a deep breath and stepped into his grasp, one hand on his shoulder, the other on the wall. On the count of three, he tossed her high enough that she should’ve been able to grab hold of the ledge with no trouble. She was lithe and agile, an easy toss. It was just a concrete wall. No concertina wire. No alarms. No armed guards blocking her path. She’d done it just hours ago, but, damn it. She missed.
With a very un-agent-like ‘oomph,’ she hit the wall hard and knew she had no chance of getting anymore height. Only her fingertips gripped the ragged edge. With a grunt, she dug in, determined not to fail. But she was heavier since Jude had hefted her over this very same wall. Now she wore a bulletproof vest and carried ammo. Cassidy slid to earth at Alex’s feet angry she couldn’t get her mind off Rourke. Or Jude.
Alex didn’t say a word, just gave her that searching look of his, the look that said he didn’t understand how she could’ve missed. She didn’t, either. Once again he knelt.
“Come on,” Rourke encouraged. “This is nothing. You can fly. Go for it.”
She clenched her teeth and nodded. Yes, I can fly, damn it. Now stop talking to me.
Shaking her anxiety off, she focused on the ledge overhead, placed the toe of her boot into her boss’s capable hands, and prepared for another take-off.
Blue sky beyond. Then Jude. Not Rourke. I can do this. I can fly.
“On three,” Alex repeated patiently. “One. Two. Three.”
Up she went. Touchdown.
Cassidy scrambled topside and waved for Rourke to toss her gear bag up. Once he did, she unzipped it and lifted the rope out for Alex and Rourke. They weren’t so good at flying. After clamping the anchor securely over the opposing edge of the wall, she tossed the rope down to them.
Alex came first. While he scaled the wall, she took in the view and made certain she hadn’t been seen. Apple orchards and willows stretched below. If she didn’t know better, she wouldn’t know the compound lay so close. Only the top peak of the barn and the rounded rock wall of the silo showed above the tree line.
When Alex drew close to the top, she dropped off the other side, leaving her camouflaged ammo bag behind. The stash of bullets would serve as their last resort should all else fail. A well-armed sniper on a wall made for a daunting enemy, and she intended to be that person if push came to shove.
Once on the ground, she unholstered her pistol, ready for trouble. Alex and Rourke were on the wall. She heard the rope hit her side of the concrete barrier. Like her ammo bag, the rope would be left behind after Alex and Rourke touched down. If the worst possible scenario unfolded, a rope at the ready could mean the difference between death and life during retreat.
Rourke was right. Taking all targets out at the same time was the only way, but retreating over any wall in the middle of a firefight would prove a formidable task.
Alex dropped beside her, crouching immediately as he took in the terrain from one knee. Rourke dropped a second later.
“We’ll only have cover in the willows. Once we reach the orchard, we’ll use the trees.”
Alex nodded.
Cassidy took lead. At the edge of the willows, her senses heightened. One child playing hooky or one adult cult member out of their appointed place could end the extraction. She surveyed the way forward one last time before she signaled Rourke to advance first, Alex second. Bringing up the rear, Cassidy maintained close cover over her guys, her pistol’s scope panning back and forth. Both Alex and Rourke had their ARs tucked in tight against their chest, up and ready. So far, so good.
At the edge of the orchard, Rourke halted. When Alex reached him, he tapped Rourke once on the shoulder to indicate all accounted for. Rourke ran to the target. At the corner of the cabin, he turned and waved Alex on.
A prickle of unease slid over Cassidy’s neck and down her spine. Women usually worked in the garden. One of the Elite was always on guard. Teachers were always out and about with a class of children. Where was everyone?
Cassidy covered Alex, but lost sight of Rourke the minute he dodged to the side of the target house. When Alex hit the corner of the same home, her gut clenched. This was it. Showdown. The right Melissa better be in that damned house.
Her turn. Alex signaled for her to advance. Rourke was still out of sight, safe she hoped.
She allowed a short breath before she took off. Running through open spaces worked her last nerve. Once she reached Alex, she nodded once for go. He nodded back. Message received, and rounded the corner to follow Rourke, hopefully inside the home. Acid poured into her stomach. Her companion agents were out of sight. So much could go wrong.
Pausing at the corner of the home, she surveyed the orchard and willows behind her one last time. Everything was too quiet. Not good. Something had happened, and she wished she knew what. Sucking up a quick breath, she followed her boss.
She could’ve kissed the smirk off his smug face when she caught up with him. Thank God. There was no way the satellite surveillance footage could’ve shown the lattice wall separating each private home from the next.
Alex stood at the open door and waved her inside. “Good job, junior agent,” he said softly as she passed him. “You were right. Melissa’s here.”
Cassidy stepped inside. A thin woman with straggly, chestnut brown hair and sad eyes stood in the center of the only room of the very small cabin, welcoming her visitors as if this kind of thing happened everyday. Melissa gave Alex an extra long hug. “It is so good to see you again. How’s Jed?”
“He’ll be fine once you’re home safe,” Alex replied, nodding to his agents. “Rourke and Cassidy are here to make sure that happens. You’re coming with us. Now.”
Cassidy had to give it to Alex. He hadn’t asked Melissa if she wanted to leave. His mission was to retrieve her, and that was all there was to it.
The light on Melissa’s face at his firmly spoken command was answer enough. “I made an awful mistake. I�
�m sorry you had to come get me.”
“No problem, ma’am.” Rourke spoke up. “Our pleasure.”
Cassidy smirked. Rourke, you big suck-up.
“But first...” Alex looked to Cassidy, “we a dress and a bonnet.”
“Why?” Melissa asked. “It’s not safe here. Surely you’re not thinking of going out among the congregation. Not tonight.”
“Yes,” Cassidy answered. “I’ve been here before. I can do it again.”
“But why?”
“We have two other contacts to retrieve. Jude Cannon and his daughter, Judith. You might know him as Jude Clark and her as Chloe.”
Melissa’s breath hitched. “The prophet’s Chloe? But she’s to be married during the blessing. Tonight.”
“To that perv, Cain?” Cassidy asked.
“Yes,” Melissa whispered, her fingers to her throat. “He’s such an evil man, Cassidy. You three don’t stand a chance against his Elite.”
Melissa’s words only added more fuel to Cassidy’s hatred for the man. She’d known about the blessing, but marriage? “When did that happen?”
“This morning.” Melissa looked to Alex. “There was quite a stir when—Oh, my. You’re the spy he was looking for. It all makes sense. For the first time since I’ve been here, the entire congregation stood up to Cain. It was incredible. I thought his men would start shooting, but in the middle of all the commotion, Judith bested Lucien. She offered herself as his betrothed.”
“Why’d she do that?” Alex asked.
“Because Cain wanted someone to pay for helping the spy escape.” Melissa nodded to Cassidy. “Your spy, Alex. He wanted a confession, but when no one came forward, he asked Jerusha to name a blood sacrifice, someone else to suffer until the evildoer confessed. Jerusha fingered Priscilla. The poor girl and her mother barely left my home before you got here. They’re frightened to death, Alex. They want to go home.”
Cassidy glared at Alex. “He’s mine, Boss. Before we leave here, he’s mine.”
Alex didn’t offer any comment, but turned to Melissa. “Where is Jude’s daughter now?”
“She’s with the sisters of the Elite just six doors away from here. They’re preparing her dress for the marriage ceremony.”
Cassidy blew out a huge sigh of frustration. “She’s freaking fourteen years old.”
“Why poison a young woman you just married? It doesn’t make sense,” Alex muttered.
“Poison?” Melissa asked, her eyes widened in surprise.
“Yes. The FBI’s got solid intel that Cain means to end the cult tonight. No one else knows, only…” Alex drew in a deep breath. “I don’t know. Something’s still not right with that intel.”
“Nothing makes sense,” Melissa whispered. “I shouldn’t have come here. I don’t know what I was thinking or... why... or...” The seemingly strong woman melted into Alex’s arms. “I miss Brady so much. God, I don’t know how you lived through this awful, awful thing.”
Alex stroked a hand over her hair. “I’d lie and tell you it gets easier, but it doesn’t, honey. You just learn to live around it. You adjust. You’ll see.”
Cassidy turned away, her eyes watering at the tenderness of her tough boss. Melissa was hurting for the man she loved, and for the first time in her life, Cassidy knew the feeling. Alex seemed to understand, too.
“Is there any way you could get Chloe to come here?” Rourke asked.
“I could do that.” Melissa’s eyes brightened. Pulling away from Alex, she smoothed one hand over her bed. “I’ll go get Chloe. I’ll tell them I made a wedding present for her. I made this quilt while I’ve been here. It’s... It’s...” She froze as she fingered the masterpiece. A patchwork of muted greens, tans, and denims, some cammies, it seemed to hold a spell over her. “I made it out of his clothes.” Her words faded as she lifted the quilt to her nose. “It still smells like... my Brady.”
“Melissa,” Alex said gently. “If this is too hard for you—”
“No.” She snapped out of her trance. “I need to help. Yes. I’ll go ask if I can borrow Chloe for a moment. The sisters of the Elite will believe me. I won’t let on that I know about the poison. I’ll tell them I just want to give the prophet’s bride-to-be a wedding present. In the meantime,” she turned to Cassidy. “I have the perfect dress for you.”
“And bloomers,” Rourke reminded her with a cheeky smirk.
Melissa retrieved a full-length, gray, go-to-meeting dress from a small trunk at the foot of her bed. “You’re shorter than me. This might be a little large. I do have a pair of new undergarments if you want those, too.”
“She does, thanks,” Rourke pitched in before Cassidy could speak up. “Go get Judith while Cassidy changes, Melissa.”
“I’ll be watching,” Alex said, already peering out the door. “If you run into trouble, scream.”
Melissa shook her head, tsking as she passed him at the threshold. “You know me better than that, Alex. A lady never screams. She calls out. Trust me. I’ll be fine.”
Alex offered a curt nod, his gaze on the path. “If you’re not back in five, I’m coming to get you.”
The relationship between Alex and Melissa caught Cassidy by surprise. It wasn’t often he exposed his tender side, but undressing in a one-room cabin while her boss and senior agent stood only feet away? Weird, really weird.
She turned her back and examined those damned bloomers. Why should she wear them? No one needed to know what she had on beneath her clothes. But the dress? Sheesh. A guy had to have designed this ridiculous style. A sick, twisted guy who liked scratchy fabric and tiny little buttons. No wonder the sisters in this cult were pasty white and lifeless. They never got enough vitamin D.
Rourke must’ve been watching. “Aw, go on. Put ’em on.”
Cassidy shot him a not-too-ladylike hand signal, turned her back, and dropped her cargoes, well on her way to feeling like the low man on the totem pole. Slipping out of her shirt, she fumbled into the dress. But the look in Rourke’s eyes when she pivoted to show off her ugly apparel, the damned bloomers undercover where they belonged? Enlightening to say the least.
“What are you looking at?” she challenged, checking her cleavage in case she’d missed one of the gazillion buttons keeping every last inch of her covered.
Rourke let out a quiet wolf whistle. “Nothing. Absolutely nothing.”
“Damn right.” She did what any other covert agent would’ve done. She flipped him off again and picked up her pistol, ready to get this op finished.
“Where do you think you’re going to put that?” Alex asked.
She looked down at her dress, hoping for a pocket hidden in all that fabric. Nothing.
“How about this?” Rourke retrieved a small woven basket with a checkered cloth from the counter. “If anyone asks, you’re collecting eggs.” A crooked smile tweaked his lips. “Damn. You look like you’re off to see the wizard.”
“Shut up,” she hissed one last time. With her pistol concealed in that stupid egg basket, Cassidy left the relative safety of Melissa’s cabin behind and headed out to locate Jude. If all went as planned, he’d be in the barn and everyone could be out of this looney bin before a single moonbeam lit the eastern horizon.
Yeah, right. Cassidy knew better.
Something always went wrong.
Chapter Sixteen
Tucker was in bad shape. He’d collapsed on the burlap bags just outside the tunnel opening, but the cellar wasn’t safe. No place was, not with Greg and Hank missing.
“We should keep moving,” Jude suggested, “or I could go for water and first-aid.”
Tucker rolled with a groan onto his side. “Shut up. I’m talking.”
Well, excuse me all to hell. Jude positioned the spotlight on the middle step and faced it toward the ceiling to diffuse the blinding beam while Tucker mumbled. Jude tried not to listen. “Damn it, not him. She’s with him, isn’t she?” A pause, then, “Shit. Is that the best you guys can do?”
The conversation didn’t seem to end the way Tucker wanted. “Shit.”
“What’s up?”
“Nothing. HQ wants me to stay put and wait for rescue. Who do they think I am, some pansy-assed civilian?” He closed his eyes and gritted his teeth, a good enough answer for Jude. He had no problem leaving Tucker behind. He stood to do just that.
“Where you going?”
“My plans haven’t changed. I need to be at the barn with Judith before Cassidy gets back.”
“I thought you didn’t know where your kid is?”
“I don’t, but if she’s marrying Cain tonight, she’s probably in one of the Elite’s homes. Cain would trust them. I’ll check there first.”
“But you can’t see.”
“I’ll be fine,” Jude insisted. “I can make my way around. It’s daytime. I can do it.”
Tucker dropped his head in his hands, staring at his boots.
Jude took another step up the cellar stairs. “Take care of yourself.”
“Shit.” Tucker kicked against the dirt floor, then let out a rumbling groan because that simple action must’ve hurt.
“What is wrong with you?” When he got no answer, Jude placed one palm to the cellar door. He had better things to do than wait on this obnoxious FBI agent with a big opinion of himself.
“Stay!” Tucker barked.
“No, you stay,” Jude barked back. “I’ve got better things to do than listen to you whine and denigrate everything and everyone. Judith needs me. Wait here like you were told and—”
“Shit! Will you give me a second, damn it?” Tucker roared. “I’m thinking!”
Jude clenched his fist and held while Tucker growled, like all that growling did any good. The guy was half animal and most of it big-mouthed and cantankerous. At the moment, Tucker sat beyond the slats of the stairs. It looked like he was behind bars, right where animals like him belonged.
At last, Tucker reached inside his boot and retrieved a small gun. “Never thought I’d be saying this, but you’ll need a way to protect yourself. That little knife of yours won’t hurt a flea. Here. Take this.”
Jude turned up his nose at the gun Tucker extended, his palm still on the door and ready to leave. “No thanks. If I was going to use a weapon, it’d be a lot bigger than that.”
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