His hand went to his shoulder then dropped again. “A tattoo.”
“You keep track of the men you’ve killed. That’s what it is, I’m guessing. A sort of scorecard.” As someone who tried to save lives, she tried to block out the human toll behind those lines.
His expression went blank. “Is that what you really think?”
“Am I wrong?” She sort of wanted to be. To her there was a difference between fighting for what was right and liking the kill. She prayed he fell into the former category. Every piece of evidence suggested he did, but her radar could be off and that scared her to death.
He turned to the side. Looked like he was going to say something, then he froze. “What is that?”
She followed his gaze to her shoe. She’d known this lecture was coming but wasn’t about to let him derail her. “My boot. No big deal.”
“This.” He grabbed the boot and showed the side. “Fuck.”
Looked like dirt to her, or a pebble. Either way, nothing to worry about and not a reason for the kick of rage he aimed at her “What do you think it is?”
“It’s a tracking device.”
Panic filled her brain as she shot to her feet. “That can’t be”
He turned the boot over then lifted her leg and examined the other one. “When we found the other one I asked you if anyone had touched you.”
“Right.” She remembered the questions and her confusion.
“The boot, Lexi.”
“No one . . .” Then she remembered. The life drained out of her. “The guy at the clinic was going to bind my legs to the chair, grabbed them, then didn’t.”
West swore. “That explains the how. The question now is who’s watching.”
She knew he was thinking Javed but she didn’t know how that was possible. She’d had these boots on since the clinic. Then fear hit her full force. Forget who planted it. A tracker meant they were being followed despite all the fancy backtracking and covering. “You mean someone knows we’re here?”
“Possibly.” He stood up and looked around.
She now knew that tone. “So definitely. That’s what you really mean.”
He ripped the dot off her boot and held the shoe out to her as he nodded toward the loft. “Climb up.”
Terror washed through every cell and she nearly buckled. “West—”
“Now.”
He peeked out through two slats in the wall, the same sliver of light he’d been checking since they got there. This time his head dropped. He swore and kept swearing. “I hate this fucking country.”
She knew he wasn’t talking about the people, but she didn’t know what was happening to send him off now.
“Come out, West.” A man’s voice all singsongy and far too happy filtered in. “And bring the pretty woman.”
Everything inside her froze. “Who is that?”
West grabbed his gun. “A man I should have killed months ago.”
16
THIS WAS a fucking nightmare. West blinked, hoping to push the image out of his mind, but Pearce still stood there. He had some guy that looked vaguely familiar with him. West would worry about that later. Right now his concern was how Pearce got the whole way to Pakistan and what that meant about the security of Alliance and the people who worked there.
His mind shot to his other major concern. He looked at Lexi. “Get ready to get up on the roof.”
She shook her head. Stood there holding her boot and disagreed. “He’s right out front. He’ll see me.”
“I’ll create a diversion.” Shooting Pearce’s sidekick in the forehead should do it, West thought. He would fire through the entire Pakistani army if that’s what it took to get her out safely.
“West, you’re not thinking.” She came closer and put a hand on his arm. “There could be others out there. If this guy, whoever he is, found us. Others probably did, too.”
He tried to remember the last time someone questioned his concentration and thinking. Yeah, never. He let her get away with it because she could do pretty much whatever she wanted. But the tremble moving through her suggested she wasn’t nearly as unmoved by this as she appeared.
He wanted to touch her but couldn’t. He needed all of his focus and energy to get through the next few minutes with Pearce and whatever wave came after him.
West looked at his protective vest. It lay on the ground next to where she was sitting. He’d left it off earlier because once he touched her, really touched her, he hit a tipping point. Her safety passed the job as the most important thing he did out there. That meant he needed her alive more than he needed to finish this, so the vest went to her. No arguments.
“Grab that and get in it.” He pointed, and she picked it up without question. “This guy is dangerous. Serious dangerous, Lexi.”
“So are you.” She slipped the vest over his shoulders and stood there while he fastened it.
She had a point, but . . . “He trained people like me. This is a pretty even match, except for how pissed off I am that he’s still breathing. That gives me an edge.”
She peeked over his shoulder and through the opening between the slats. “But he’s not with you?”
“He’s a traitor and a disgrace.”
“That seems harsh.” Pearce’s voice sounded from the other side of the door.
West pushed Lexi behind him as a piece of the wall gave way. The other man came in first. He had a retired military look to him. Tom . . . something. A CIA guy. “You’re working with Pearce?”
“Drop your weapons.” Tom issued the order.
West ignored it because that just was not going to happen. “Pearce. I see you’re still a gigantic pain in the ass.”
Months in a secret locked-down facility hadn’t had much of an impact. Pearce was still tall and lean and, if West guessed right, able to strangle another human without using more than one arm.
“You should thank me.” Pearce held his hands together in front of him.
This should be good. West could hardly wait to hear Pearce’s newest bit of self-delusion. “For?”
“Not barging in a few hours ago.” Pearce hesitated as if waiting for that blow to land. “I let you and your lady friend have some alone time before you died.”
The color ran out of Lexi’s cheeks. “Oh my God.”
West knew where her mind went. Flipping through memories of her being half naked. Of him inside her. All while Pearce and possibly his buddies watched.
Now he had a new reason to kill the motherfucker.
“I’m Jake Pearce, by the way.” Pearce tried to shift around West’s frame and held a hand out to Lexi. “And you are?”
She ignored it. “None of your business.”
Pearce laughed and leaned in with a man-to-man gleam in his eye. “She’s perfect for you.”
“Fuck you.” West thought that covered everything.
“There’s no need for an introduction. I am quite familiar with Alexis Palmer and her work in Skardu.” Pearce made a tsk-tsking sound. “I think you’ve been nosy and caused some trouble for people I work with. That’s a shame.”
The comment grabbed West’s attention. He knew Pearce didn’t accidentally drop the information. Pearce didn’t do anything by accident. It was a calculated remark. He was either showing off or letting them know that the end was coming.
West wanted to know which, so he played along. “The weapons stockpile is you?”
Pearce sighed. “You underestimate me.”
Wrong. “I don’t waste a second thinking about you.”
“I bet Ward is thinking about me right now. And Mike.” Pearce glanced over at his bodyguard or whatever the hell the guy with the weapons strapped to his chest was supposed to be. “It’s a shame I didn’t let you kill him.”
“You’re telling me you escaped Alliance.” West couldn’t come up with any scenario where that was possible.
Even if Pearce got out of the cell, he’d have to get past all the security and the team. Ward would na
il him with a bullet and Tasha might take the guy down with her bare hands. And that was in another country. He’d somehow spanned continents and made it here.
Not fucking possible.
Pearce held his hands out palms up. “You guys are not as unbeatable as you think.”
West didn’t accept that either. “We caught you.”
“And then you lost me.”
That piece stabbed at West. He couldn’t get his mind to accept it. “Maybe I should just shoot you and be done with it.”
The idea was so tempting. Which was probably why Pearce made it clear he had an interest in the weapons or something to do with them. That made it harder for West to take him down without procuring the intel he needed.
“If you try to come near me, Tom here will gut your pretty girlfriend.” Pearce put a hand behind his ear. “No comment to that?”
West couldn’t look at Lexi, didn’t even glance in her direction. But he was proud of her. She stood there, not panicking or begging for anything from Pearce. She’d shifted a few inches closer to him but their bodies still didn’t touch.
But he wanted Pearce’s mind off Lexi and back on him. “What do you want?”
“You have her well trained, but I have to say this is a surprise. You seemed like the type to stick to hookers. Can’t really see you with a former mental patient.”
Sounded like Pearce was running through the handbook, trying to humiliate her. West refused to play. “What’s in the caves?”
Pearce nodded. “I knew you’d figure that part out. I told Benton to eliminate you when he had the chance.”
Motherfucker. That name. Alliance’s nemesis. The enemy of most countries. The man who dealt in bodies and weapons and kept his face out of the limelight as he skulked around from country to country wreaking havoc.
Pearce could only be considered skilled and lethal and, as West saw it, delusional in his belief that the intelligence community owed him something and deserved to be punished. But Benton was the goddamn king of death.
West didn’t let the kicking in his gut show. “Benton is here.”
Pearce smiled. “He’s my partner. He’s been my partner for years.”
Two peas in a sick and twisted pod. “He didn’t do much to rescue you from jail.” West threw out his own poking words. Pearce wasn’t the only one with the interrogation handbook.
“I didn’t need someone to rescue me.” For the first time, Pearce moved. He shifted his weight and crossed his arms in front of him. “We’re a lot alike in that way.”
That didn’t even deserve a response.
Lexi delivered one. “You just like hearing yourself talk.”
The comment had Pearce focusing on her again. “Did West tell you about his bad daddy.”
“Yes.” Her tone stayed flat as she stood there with one boot on and the other swinging from her hand.
Pearce took a step toward her. “Did he tell you about yours?”
West shoved him back. “Shut up, Pearce.”
But Lexi didn’t let it drop, as West had hoped she would. “What are you talking about?”
“Why do you think your daddy had the codes to call in his concerns and have them telegraphed to Alliance? Only the really bad shit gets through to them. The intel has to be trustworthy.” Pearce walked over to stand next to his bodyguard. “They’re not exactly on speed dial, but I think you’re smart enough to know that.”
As if mesmerized, Lexi followed Pearce. “What are you saying?”
West grabbed her arm and brought her back even with him. He wanted to shove her behind him but had to keep his control in check. “Nothing. Ignore him.”
“To use Hollywood jargon,” Pearce said, “your daddy is a spy.”
Her mouth dropped open. “I don’t—”
“He is not.” That was more than enough of that. West needed them back on track and not talking about Lexi’s dad and his supposed ties with the CIA. Alex Palmer used his position to funnel information to the right people. He was a sometime asset, not a spy.
“I guess we can debate his title,” Pearce said.
West didn’t care about that or dwell on it. If the doctor wanted to put his life at risk to relay information, fine. That was his business, and it was his job to fill in Lexi. “What’s the plan here, Pearce?”
“Simple.”
West inhaled, trying to rein in the need to smash this guy to the ground. “Enlighten me.”
“I take you to Benton and we make an example of you.” Pearce nodded at his bodyguard.
West saw it coming. He quickly threw his body to the side and took the bullet meant for Lexi. It ripped through his shoulder, slamming him into her. Her scream echoed in his ear and the burning sensation seared through him. “Damn it.”
“West.” Lexi’s arms came around him.
He would not fall over. Refused to even wince. He didn’t want to scare Lexi or give Pearce the satisfaction.
“I’m fine.” The bloodstain on his shirt grew larger and his shoulder went numb. He could shoot from either hand, so that wasn’t the problem. The issue was the loss of blood. Unchecked, it would slow him down, or worse.
If he passed out, she was done. And if he shot now he could start a firestorm and she’d end up as a collateral.
“So predictable,” Pearce said. “You can always count on West to go in for the save.” He clapped his hand on Tom’s shoulder. “Grab the girl and West will follow.”
“He needs help!” Lexi shouted.
Pearce shrugged. “It’s a shame you didn’t stay in medical school, then.”
Ward, Mike, and Josiah watched the scene unfold. Harlan and the other members of Delta were staked out in positions all over the area and within a mile, ready to follow no matter which direction Pearce used to exit. But Pearce was not Ward’s main concern right now. Yes, the mission came first. Always. But he needed to see West walk out of this showdown.
From their position they could see Pearce and Tom standing in the doorway. Mostly a side and back view. Then the gunshot rang out. It took all of Ward’s strength to hold Josiah back. He was kicking and swearing and only settled down when Mike added his body to Ward’s human shield.
Josiah shrugged out of the hold in a rage. “We need to move.”
Ward had a load of patience but it faded the longer he stayed on the ground in Pakistan. “Not yet.”
Not that he wanted to hang around. His heart hammered in his chest as he waited to see what unfolded in that garage. The minutes ticked by, with each one seeming to take hours.
Then four figures walked out. West cradled his arm and Lexi walked by his side, bent in close and talking to him as she touched his shoulder. Pearce and Tom followed.
“West is alive.” Josiah bent over and blew out a long breath.
A shot of relief burst through Ward. Finally, some good news. It was too soon to celebrate but they’d made it through this first piece of this risky mission. “Yeah.”
“Let’s get him,” Mike said.
Ward put a restraining hand across his chest. “We follow.”
“No way, man.” Mike shook his head as his mouth flattened. “They just shot West.”
“We let this ride.” Ward stood alone against two furious glares. Josiah’s face flushed with fury and Mike looked ten seconds away from ignoring orders and shooting his way out of the situation.
“West—”
“Is strong.” Ward said the words and knew they were true, but the guy was human and sometimes they forgot that and took his survival ability for granted. Ward didn’t want to miscalculate and do that here.
“If anything happens to him . . .”
Ward knew a threat lingered right there on the tip of Josiah’s tongue. He decided to let the Delta team leader say it. “What?”
“We don’t leave men behind,” Mike said, looking every bit as homicidal as Josiah.
“And we’re not going to.” Ward made that vow and meant it. He’d risk his messed up hand and go in himself
to pull West out, if needed.
17
LEXI’S HANDS shook as she patched up West’s shoulder. She’d had to peel off his blood-soaked jacket. Red blotches stained the dark gray shirt underneath and covered the sleeve. Everywhere she looked she saw splashes of red, up his neck and on her hands.
She had no idea how he continued to sit there without keeling over. He should have passed out or at least been dizzy. Instead, he half sat, half leaned against a wooden table set up in the middle of a cave.
The dim lighting didn’t give much away but she saw the rough rocky walls and what looked like a piece of metal fence set up at the far end with a trough of water in front of it. She didn’t know what happened in this room but she knew it had to be awful. Which likely explained West’s stubborn refusal to so much as close his eyes.
She admired the bravery, especially as her insides jumbled and her stomach rolled. But she feared his strength would make the men in the room go after him even harder.
He reached up and slid his hand over hers. “It’s going to be okay.”
With her frazzled nerves, she didn’t notice how the bandage she held to his shoulder jumped around wildly until he touched her. “You need help,” she said.
“Baby, trust me,” he said in a gruff voice.
The endearment. The comfort of his voice. They meant so much, but they didn’t stop the mix of rage and terror racing through her.
She had training, but bullet wounds were not her specialty. On the way to the cave he’d been kicked and punched. Whenever Pearce had threatened her, West stood there and took the beating.
He did exactly what he promised—he put his body in front of hers. She knew that he focused on staying alive long enough for his team to burst in. That’s how his plans worked. When chaos broke out, he stalled to find time to get her to safety.
This from a man who insisted he’d lost his humanity.
“I’ll get you out of here.” His voice dropped to a whisper.
She heard pain and a small break before the last word. “You need to save your strength.”
“It’s too late for that.” Pearce walked up behind her with his bodyguard at his side. “We need to get West ready before he meets Benton.”
Falling Hard Page 17