“She’s going to love it,” Nick said, continuing his charade. He opened his wallet and pulled out the Black Card The Company had given him.
The sale girl’s eyes grew as big as the wide-body jet he’d flown in on. “It’s all taken care of, Mr. Sterling. Your assistant paid for it over the phone when the order was called in. You’re all set.” She slid the top of the box back on securely and placed it into a large shopping bag. “Thank you so much for visiting us here at Coach.” Then, she gave him a card that read “Elyse, Sales Associate.” “Come back anytime,” she added.
He replaced the credit card into his wallet, along with her card and plucked out several twenty dollar bills. He couldn’t assume she’d get a commission on this beast of a sale, so it was the least he could do for her participation.
She grinned like crazy. “Thank you so much, Mr. Sterling.” Glancing around as if making sure no one else saw, she stashed the money into the front of her shirt and winked at him.
Nick nodded and exited the store. Shit… the things he did all in the name of being stealthy and clandestine. If he had a few more hours to waste, he might invite Elyse to have a drink with him or to slip away to the Executive Club to get to know each other better. Not a good idea, though. He had to focus. New assignment was up now. Too bad, because ending one always gave him a hard on. Not because he enjoyed seeing someone die or property destroyed, but because he’d done his job. He’d completed the task, lived up to expectations, and was the best of the best. He was excited as fuck at the thought of how he was one step closer to freedom, being financially secure and independent. Liberation from all of it and everything his life had unexpectedly morphed into.
His first foster father said he’d “never amount to nothing.’” Really? What kind of asshole tells that to a four-year-old? Words like that leave a mark, a scar on the inside that didn’t easily mend. Yeah, well, Nick had shown that old man. And, now, he was going to make enough money to assure no one else every told him what to do, how to do it, or, more importantly, what he couldn’t do. Fuck them all.
He needed a release. Wanted to shoot his wad and feel the powerful sensation of his cock squeezing out the hot cum of success. It had nothing to do with love, romance, commitment, or relationships. It was purely manly. Ego. The need to control. The buildup of testosterone and the caveman-like need to mark his territory. It was primal. Guttural. It was a fucking high.
As he turned to see which way his gate was, he was steamrolled as a small woman ran smack-dab into him. Or, maybe he ran into her? He didn’t quite know. With a concrete muscle frame like his, most everything bounced off him.
“Oh, my God!” the woman said, steadying herself. “Hey, watch it!”
Nick reached his arms out to stabilize her, righting her back to both feet. She flattened her mouth, annoyed at the altercation. He noticed she was almost a foot shorter than he was, definitely feisty with yards of thick, gorgeous brown hair and deep set eyes to match. His cock strained against his jeans, not from the flirty sales girl, but from this babe traveling in a hurry who’d collided with him.
“Damn, I’m so sorry. I didn’t see you,” he said politely while still gripping her wrist gently.
She didn’t squirm out of his arms, but did lean back and gaze up at him. “Good Lord, you’re a tall drink of water. What do they feed you where you come from?” she quipped.
He couldn’t help but chuckle at her comment. “Small children… and brunettes.”
The woman laughed at him, but he could see pain and fear hidden behind her eyes. He was good at reading people, and with this girl, it was no different. “Wow… you’re cute and funny.”
Being a gentleman, he made sure she found her balance, and then he let go. Then, he added, “Are you okay? I didn’t mean to rattle you like that. I wasn’t paying enough attention.”
She visibly gulped hard and then gave a fleeting glance around. “No, I’m fine. It’s okay. It happens, right? I mean, airports are a shit show at the best of times. I’m just… in a hurry to get to my flight.”
“Ahhh… right. Of course,” he said with a nod and a smile.
Neither of them moved for a moment. Her eyes peered up at his, locking together with his in an instance of pure silence. His mind blocked out everything around them. From the people milling around and dashing from gate to gate, to the annoying beeping of the slow-moving passenger carts, and even the extremely loud attendant at the next gate announcing the last call for Air France Flight 324 to Paris. His dick twitched with the warped thought of dragging her up to the executive club level. Sometimes they had sleep pods or dressing rooms or—
The bag in his left hand bumped his leg, quickly bringing him back to his real purpose here. This wasn’t a pleasure trip in any way, shape, form, or designer fashion.
Nick
“Wow…” he said on a released breath.
He saw the young woman relax for a second as if her worries and cares lifted off briefly. Absently, he reached his right hand and softly stroked her upper arm in a gesture of what, he didn’t know. “Well, I’ve got a flight to catch, too,” he said, mentally chastising himself. “You sure you’re good?”
“Fine. Thanks.”
“Okay, then. Have a safe trip.”
“You too,” she said, biting her lip. “You too.”
Nick watched as the stunning brunette hurried away from him and disappeared into the throng of travelers flowing chaotically throughout the expansive terminal. Before he knew it, he’d lost her in the crowd. He let out a pent-up sigh, shaking off the contact. He didn’t know what it was about her—her natural beauty or her cocky attitude—but he was immediately turned on by her and couldn’t believe the overwhelming regret watching her go.
Maybe in another lifetime…
He checked his watch and saw it was 10:45 a.m., and had no idea about where he was heading, who he was after, or what he was doing. Guess I better get to this, he thought to himself as he hefted the shopping bag along with his full duffle into a better position on his shoulder.
In a few feet, he took a dive into the men’s room and chose the last stall at the farthest end. It was the handicapped stall, so he secured the lock, pulled down the wall table, and plopped his things down on it. He tore open Elyse’s careful packaging and withdrew the designer bag worth four G’s. Crocodile or alligator, she’d said. The last gator he’d seen was in slider form on his plate bathed in Cajun seasoning and a tangy remoulade sauce. This poor schmuck didn’t even get the honor of being a gourmet meal in death.
Sitting carefully on the seat of the toilet, he withdrew the burner phone along with a small manila envelope labeled “N1SFO10800.”
His next job and what had brought him over the big, blue ocean without hesitation. It was all about the woman he was to watch and report back on. She was either someone extremely important, or she’d pissed off the wrong person. The Company didn’t waste their time or resources taking on a job that would send out a tough, mean bastard like him to get proof of some exec’s wife cheating on him with her trainer or tennis coach. No, this was bigger than that, and Nick knew it.
Flipping over the envelope, he slid out the information from inside and set it on his lap. He also powered up the burner phone and withdrew his ear buds from his jacket pocket and plugged them into the device. He pulled up the QR code reader and swiftly scanned the brochure, waiting as the information loaded. As with his previous assignments, the packet usually contained a trifold tourist brochure like the one he stared at. This time it was advertising an exclusive couple’s resort in Fiji.
For a moment, he gazed at the perfectly cerulean water, imagining himself swimming under the surface and exploring the underworld of plants, coral, and fish. Maybe with Elyse the sales associate… no, not her. Maybe with the brunette with the dark eyes. Oh, hell yeah. Her in a sexy string bikini he could remove with one flick of his finger. And then, he’d flick his fingers somewhere much further south. He’d replace his fingers with his mouth, let
ting his tongue explore the salty goodness of her—
Nick nearly jumped at the sound of the message coming to life in his headphones. “Agent Taylor, this is Handler X29 from The Company with your instructions.”
All thoughts of going down on the sexy brunette were wiped away the instant X29 began speaking. Nick swallowed down his brewing lust and switched immediately to work mode, listening intently.
“The enclosed brochure contains the standard dossier on your mark,” the handler narrated. “Normal security procedures are in place for deciphering the information.”
Nick pulled his keyring out of his pants pocket and twisted it, turning on a black light pen at one tip. He shined the beam over the brochure revealing hidden lettering and directives over the tropical destination. His eyes scanned fast, back and forth, as X29’s voice picked back up.
“Your mark is one Nicole Elizabeth Hunt. She’s a high-level, Pentagon-cleared programmer with Terratech in Silicon Valley. She’s twenty-four years old and five-foot-six with brown eyes and brown hair. We don’t know at this point if she’s altered her appearance, or not. Her last known location was her apartment in Silicon Valley where a neighbor reported seeing her leave with a suitcase, her purse, and a computer case after returning early afternoon via bicycle from her workplace. When the neighbor spoke to her, Hunt didn’t indicate her destination other than saying she had a ‘family emergency’ taking her away for a bit. However, her supervisor at Terratech said he had a message from her claiming a high fever and the flu—like several other employees—and she’d be out several days. At first, he had no reason not to believe her, but someone high up got concerned that she had something to hide. They figured it must have a connection to the project her team has been working on for the Pentagon.”
“A check of her credit cards shows no major purchases since an automatic payment to the power company. Conversely, she somehow purchased a one-way flight from SFO to JFK leaving this morning. We know this because her passport was scanned at the TSA check-in. Our client feels she’s at risk to leave the country once she reaches New York, even though we can trace no other leg of the journey yet. Your job is to follow her to New York, collect intel, and prevent her from any and all non-US departures on her part. If she flies anywhere, follow her and report in on a regular basis using one of your burner phones. She’s smart, so if she makes you, just have one of your standard cover stories in place. At the moment, you’re the only operative assigned to this task. I repeat, this is intel gathering only. Nothing more. For now. We’ll keep you updated if the scope of the job alters. As per your guidelines, eliminate all record of this assignment immediately. X29 out.”
He read over the particulars on the brochure several times and then ripped it into tiny pieces. He stood, tossed the shreds into the toilet, and then unzipped his pants to take a piss. He’d always found a good flush was the best way to get rid of any material passed on to him. Between the ripping, the ammonia, and the other chemicals, not to mention breaking down in water, the info was as good as gone.
Nick blew out a gust of air, taking in everything. This wasn’t his typical assignment – to watch some woman and keep her from leaving the country? What could this woman possibly have or be doing that would involve a client who would have the resources to hire The Company? As he gathered the rest of his things and the remaining information from the Coach bag, he thought about this Nicole Hunt. Seriously… what in hell’s name had she done to get a group like The Company on her tail? He was used to dealing with drug dealers, warlords, child slave traffickers… the nastiest shits on the planet who needed to be taken down, taught a lesson, and often, have their business operations and lives ended. But, from the sound of things, what had some young, female computer nerd done to bring on the watchful and judgmental eye of such a powerful group? He guessed he’d figure it out.
Before leaving the stall, he flushed the toilet one more time, just to be safe. He also shoved the expensive purse back into the gift box. The thing was worth something and would impress a woman. His target, maybe? No telling if and when he might need it for some reason.
Gathering his things, he moved out to the sink and washed his hands. He then splashed a good dousing of water on his face to wake him up and refresh him from the long journey, so far, and the one ahead of him. According to the information from X29, his flight left in thirty-two minutes. American Airlines from SFO to JFK in New York, leaving from Gate A11 in the International terminal. The information from X29 revealed this Ms. Hunt with a seat in coach, over the wing in an exit row. Shit, did she know something the rest of them didn’t?
His thought was to somehow arrange it for her to be bumped up to first class where the seat next to him might appear empty to the random eye, but had been purchased by The Company for just such use. Besides, Nick hated sitting in the back thanks to his extra-long legs. Most aircraft weren’t designed for anyone over six feet.
Nick dried his hands and hoisted his bags back up onto his shoulder—the left one and good one. The right one still had a bit of shrapnel embedded in his muscle as a result of a dirty bomb attack on a Hummer-cade he was part of from Kandahar to Kabul three years ago. At the time, his own pain meant nothing as he and another member of their unit fought to save the life of their driver who’d lost both of his legs and his eyes in the explosion. Nineteen years, away from Meridian, Mississippi for the first time, and his life ended on a dusty road in the Middle East. Not a good day for the U.S. of A.
Those assignments for the Army had always been life or death. Working for The Company, Nick had more control. Take this assignment. It was simple enough, although he knew to never underestimate anything. Jobs like these had the potential of going off the rails. There were so many unknowns especially now that he was trying to keep a target alive. The more the human factor was involved, the more dangerous and complicated the mission.
First things first, though. He needed to get over to Gate A11 and start scoping the waiting area for Nicole Hunt.
Which reminded him… he hadn’t even checked out the pictures on his burner phone that had been added to the camera gallery to make it appear as if it were some random person’s personal phone. He needed to get a good look at her face, memorize it, and know who he was searching for once he got to the gate. He certainly wanted to follow her moves before she made it onto the plane, see if she called anyone, did anything suspicious, bought anything out of the ordinary.
The standard operating procedure from The Company was to doctor up photos of the mark and the agent together—in this case, Nick—so it would appear as if they were friends or close family members. That way, it allowed operatives to keep their target’s visual on hand without drawing any suspicion.
Taking deep strides, Nick crossed the main hallway of the International Terminal, grateful he’d dealt with Customs in China before taking his long flight. All he had to do now was get to the gate, find Nicole Hunt, and set his plan in action. As simple as the job was, it must have been pretty serious to call for his departure from China on the heels of this last job. Nick wasn’t the only operative in the field, and although he liked staying busy, it didn’t make sense they put him on this assignment so quickly. They could have easily used someone else. Whatever the reason, he would be alert and vigilant. No sense reading between the lines. He had a job to do.
Crossing into Terminal A, a large group of tall, male, athletes wearing blue and white track suits cut in front of him, nearly marching together toward their gate. He stepped aside so they could pass and so he could finally pull up the pictures of Nicole Hunt on his cell phone.
As soon as he opened the app and clicked past pictures of a dog, some guys fishing, and few political memes, a deep laugh bubbled up from the pit of his stomach. The woman in the first picture he pulled up was soft and beautiful with dark chocolate eyes, golden-highlighted brown hair as if she’d been out in the sun a lot, and a full, rosy mouth he’d already seen up close. Lips he’d already been taken by, hypnotized by, e
ven, and his body had reacted to the thought of having his way with her for the sake of his sexual frustration.
For the woman staring back at him, this Nicole Hunt he was out to find, watch, gather information on—but to eventually protect, or kill?—was none other than the sexy short woman he’d bumped into outside the Coach store.
She was his target.
She was the one in trouble.
She was on the run.
And, dammit, she was the one who’d made his neglected cock throb at the mere touch of his hand on her arm.
Are you fucking kidding me? What are the chances?
He shook his head at the clear joke the universe was playing on him.
Nicole Hunt. Nerdy programmer. Honors graduate from Stanford University. Daughter of Brigadier General Harlan Hunt, USAF (Ret.), mother deceased, and a notation of a “closed subject” in her file, not accessible for his clearance level.
Nicole Hunt. The troublemaker who’d caused someone of great importance to want to know her whereabouts and her every move. The woman smart enough to know something risky was up and double-hoofed it out of town. Or, was that part of her plan… if she had one?
Goddammit, the thoughts swirled around in his head like a Tilt-a-Whirl at the county fair. Yet, there she was, standing off to the side at Gate A11, chewing on her forefinger and shifting her eyes around nervously.
Yeah, Nicole Hunt, as sexy as she was, well, the woman definitely was up to something.
It was Nick’s job to find out what the almighty hell it was exactly.
Nick
Nick watched Nicole from a safe distance. She sort of slunk into the background, crouched down in her seat and almost folded into herself as she waited for her flight to start boarding. Her eyes shifted left and right, seemingly aware of her surroundings. Ironically, though, her gaze hadn’t landed on him since their chance encounter in front of the Coach store. Then again, he knew how to remain unnoticed. It was his specialty.
Two Firefighters Next Door: A Bad Boy MFM Romance Page 20