by Katie Reus
He could have used an automatic grenade launcher but had opted for the handheld version. It was slightly less powerful but much easier to transport and it was unnecessary to use a tripod to set it up.
His hand steady, he narrowed in on the window and pulled the trigger of the single-shot weapon. The large round grenade exploded from the barrel with a whoosh that nearly knocked him back despite his solid stance.
An explosion of fire and noise lit up the night sky. The burst of orange was brilliant, but he had no time to enjoy the destruction. Lowering the weapon, he reloaded once more and pulled the trigger again, firing into what was likely the kitchen.
The loud boom that rent the air as wood and brick splintered everywhere made him stumble back. He didn’t stick around to enjoy the beauty of his work. He dropped the weapon, not caring that he had to leave it behind. He’d wiped it down before he left his home and he’d been wearing gloves the entire time. Turning, he raced back across the yard. In seconds, people would be rushing outside and calling the police. It would be easy enough to blend in and act like a concerned neighbor once he lost his mask and gloves.
Hurrying, he pulled himself up on the fence and froze when he found himself staring down the barrel of a long suppressor. His throat tightened, his heart nearly jumped out of his chest in raw fear, but before he could speak, he was flying back through the air.
Then blackness.
Chapter 18
Blitz attack: a sudden violent attack with a concentrated effort on a target.
Maria’s eyes flew open as the entire house shook, a deafening blast ripping through the air. Confusion and fear pumped through her veins like jagged lightning. She started to shove up, but Cade jerked her backward, his big arm snagging around her waist. Instinctively she started to fight but stilled as another explosion rocked the house. Freezing in raw fear, she toppled off the bed with Cade.
Their house was under attack! Her sleep-addled brain was still fighting through the fuzziness of coming from a dead slumber to this, but she quickly realized what was going on.
Her ears hummed and her entire body trembled as Cade tucked her underneath his body. “Stay down!” he shouted before he grabbed their mattress and pulled it off the bed frame.
She hunkered low, not caring that she was naked, and watched him move with incredible efficiency as he used the nightstand to prop the mattress up over them. Next, he pulled out the bottom drawer to reveal three guns. He checked the chamber of the smallest one, then slid it to her. “There’s no safety. Just aim and pull the trigger,” he said as he pulled out the other two guns.
Facedown, she reached out and took it but didn’t move otherwise. The smooth wood was cold against her naked body, but that was the least of her worries. She tried to remain calm as she wondered if the house was about to be attacked again. Even though she was internally freaking out, she didn’t ask questions as Cade secured his weapons. He was focused and it was clear he had a plan. Or she really hoped he did.
Jaw tight and muscles pulled taut, he climbed over her, keeping his body directly on top of hers as he slid one of the closet doors open. Reaching in, he grabbed a small black duffel bag and tugged it out. He rolled off her as he unzipped it and shoved a T-shirt at her. “Put it on, we’re getting out of here.”
Still flat on the floor, she tugged it over her head as he pulled on a pair of cargo pants. He tucked one of the guns in the back of his pants but held the other firmly in his hand. “Stay behind me and do exactly what I say.” His green eyes were sharp, emerald flecks.
Throat tight, she nodded. Hell yeah, she’d do whatever he said. The smell of smoke teased her nostrils, but it wasn’t suffocating. And there hadn’t been another explosion after the second one.
Yet.
For all she knew, those two explosions were just the beginning. Had someone set the house on fire? Or thrown bombs or . . . grenades or something inside?
Using the tilted mattress as a cover, Cade crawled to the edge of it. Weapon drawn, he peered out first; then without turning around he motioned for her to follow.
She held on to the gun he’d given her in a tight grasp and crawled with it, her knuckles dragging along the wooden floor as she held firm. Since it didn’t have a safety, she was careful not to put her finger near the trigger. Not unless she absolutely had to. She might not want to use it on someone, but the cold steel felt damn good in her palm. If this was the only thing between her and a terrorist trying to harm her or Cade, she didn’t think she’d have a problem using it.
When they reached the bedroom door, Cade half stood, his back pressed against the wall as he slowly turned the handle with one hand. Just as carefully he opened the door, then swept out into the hall with his gun. From her position on the floor she watched as he froze for a second, his eyes going wide, before he turned back to her.
He motioned that it was safe and pointed to the right. The direction of the stairs.
Nodding, she stood and stepped out into the hallway. The acrid scent of smoke curled around her, the crackling sound of . . . Her eyes widened as she took in the left side of the hallway.
Or what had once been there.
A gaping hole stood where the last bedroom in the hallway had once been. The bedroom she had been in. The actual floor had been ripped away too, leaving a whole lot of nothing. She could see the downstairs through the giant crater in the floor.
Feeling frozen, she tried to move, to look away. It was like something out of a nightmare. If she hadn’t gone to Cade’s bedroom tonight, she would have been in there during the explosion.
Dying orange flames flickered around the edges of where the wood and plaster had splintered right apart. The scent of smoke invaded her, and the sight of the flames . . . Suddenly she remembered everything. What she’d heard.
And the ultimate betrayal of a family friend. Her throat tightened as bile threatened to suffocate her. She swallowed hard, reliving the conversation she’d overheard the night of the party. The night her mother had died. How could he be involved with terrorists? It didn’t make sense. An icy vise squeezed around her chest as she thought about how close she’d been to him after the bombing. More than once. That bastard had come to her mother’s funeral when he’d been involved.
A red haze of rage threatened to take over, but a tug on her upper arm jerked her back to reality. She turned to find Cade holding his finger to his lips, then pointing to the stairs. His expression was tight as he dragged her with him.
She shoved her growing horror aside and buried it deep, right next to all the other crap she was trying desperately not to think about. As soon as she was able she’d tell Cade what she remembered. And later, when she was alone and had the luxury, she’d think about how she’d almost died tonight. For now, she just wanted to get the hell out of this place in one piece.
Cade pushed her behind him as they descended the stairs, his movements so fluid and practiced it was impressive to witness. It also made her glad this man was on her side.
As they reached the bottom of the stairs, he scanned in both directions down the hall, his weapon raised and ready. After a few seconds he motioned again for her to follow. She felt numb as she descended the last couple of stairs. How the hell was this really happening? An uncontrollable tremor rolled through her as her feet touched the main floor.
Smoke trailed down the stairs after them, the lingering scent making her sick. Another pump of adrenaline punched through her. They had to get out of there now.
Cade pulled her close, his fingers wrapped around her upper arm as he propelled them down the hallway toward the living room. “It looks like the attack came from the backyard, but I don’t want to go out through the front in case there are more men waiting. We’re going to exit through a window.”
“Okay.” Her voice shook, matching her insides.
He gave her a sharp look. “We’re going to get out of
this alive.” The promise in his voice was all she needed to hear.
“I believe you.”
He nodded once, then continued down the rest of the hallway. Seconds later they were crouched down next to one of the big bay windows on the side of the house. Cade pulled back the thick curtains, the sliding sound of the ring clips seeming incredibly loud in the room. She could see the neighbor’s lights on, but it was still dark enough that they wouldn’t be exposed. Especially since they didn’t have a backlight to illuminate them.
“I’m going to go out first, check for danger, and then you’re going to follow. Use your gun if you have to. And if I tell you to run, fucking run. Do not wait for me or try to help me. If you get the chance, you make a break for safety.”
Deep down, she knew she couldn’t leave him behind no matter what the situation. But she knew enough not to tell him that. They didn’t have time to argue about it. He put his life on the line every day, often for people who would never have a clue. She wasn’t leaving him. But she nodded. “Okay.”
Those piercing green eyes narrowed a fraction, as if he’d read her mind, but he didn’t respond. The window opened soundlessly and he slipped from the room like a ghost, his movements so smooth it still surprised her that such a big man had that ability.
Moments later, his head popped back up. “Come on,” he whispered.
She could hear sirens in the distance, and the neighbor’s house next door had all the lights on as she climbed over the edge of the window with much less finesse than Cade. The second her bare feet came in contact with the soft grass, she said, “Andre Moran. In case I don’t get to tell you later.” Meaning in case she didn’t survive this. “You met him at the funeral. He was there the night of the attack. I heard him talking to those men and he’s involved.”
Cade nodded once, his expression hard as he put his hand on the small of her back and started guiding her toward the front of the house. The sirens were growing louder now. Some of her fear started to fade, but not much.
That icy numbness had taken root deep inside her as she tried not to think about the fact that someone her family had trusted, had invited over for dinner numerous times—someone she’d gone on a couple of dates with—had been involved in such a horrific act of terror, which had taken the life of her mother and countless other innocents. That bastard had been at her mother’s funeral and pretended to care.
Cade continued to scan all around them as they hurried down the side of the house. When another light from the neighbor’s house switched on in the backyard, Maria’s chest constricted. The new light source illuminated a man wearing all black barely twenty feet from them. He was moving down the edge of the chain-link fence on their side of the yard, a gun in his hand.
She shoved at Cade, wrapping her arms around him in a full-body tackle.
Cade grunted in surprise as he flew backward, but with incredible agility, he twisted in midair.
Pop. Pop. Pop.
The night erupted with a blast of gunfire as Cade shot at the other man. The sound was so close to her ear she cried out. Her heart lodged in her throat as she landed on the ground with a thud, Cade falling on top of her. All the air whooshed from her lungs, but she scarcely felt the impact.
“Stay down,” Cade ordered, his voice low and angry as he shoved off her.
Disoriented, she rolled over and saw the man in black lying on his back. Cade had shot him three times. She’d seen the gun in the other man’s hand and wondered if he’d even gotten off a shot. If he had, she was thankful he’d missed both of them.
Her gaze trailed after Cade, watching as he raced to the fallen man and kicked away his weapon. He checked the man’s pulse, then hurried away toward the back of the house and disappeared from sight.
Fear clawed at her, telling her to go after him, but she didn’t. He was trained and she didn’t want to get in his way. Still, that knowledge did nothing to diminish the raw agony tearing away her insides. The thought of anything happening to Cade shredded her apart. What if there were more men with guns waiting? What if . . . No, no, no. He would be okay. He had to be. She refused to accept any other outcome.
The sirens she’d heard earlier were piercing now. Turning in the other direction, she watched as a police car zoomed down the street, then out of her line of sight. Seconds later a fire truck pulled right up next to the curb. Help had arrived.
Unfortunately she didn’t feel any relief and wouldn’t until she knew Cade was unhurt.
• • •
Date: December 31, 2006
To: Cade O’Reilly
From: Maria Cervantes
Subject: Happy New Year
Happy New Year’s (Eve)! I’m sure it’ll be a lot happier once you’re stateside . . . and I plan to make sure you get the welcome back you deserve. Now that we’re being open about everything, it feels good to be even more honest with you. Do you know how many nights I’ve stared at the ceiling thinking about you and that kiss? Some days I wondered if I imagined it.
I’m sure this is wishful thinking, but I hope your night is quiet with no “fireworks.” I know I never said it before, but in case the implication wasn’t clear enough, whatever your decision when you decide to stay in or get out, I’m okay with.
In a couple hours I’ll be heading out with some friends to a low-key party. Basically it’s going to be a bunch of psychology nerds like myself playing beer pong and ringing in the New Year. Until now I’ve never cared about that New Year’s kiss tradition, but I wish you were here to share one with. But don’t worry. I won’t be kissing anyone else. Miss you.
xo,
Maria
Chapter 19
Clandestine operation: an intelligence operation intended to be secret.
Cade stood at the rear of Burkhart’s SUV but kept himself positioned so that he could see Maria clearly. She sat in the back of one of the ambulances with a blanket wrapped around her. Even though she wasn’t injured, he still wanted her looked at in case she went into shock and he didn’t want her around while he spoke to his boss.
“What have they found on Andre Moran?” Cade asked.
“The team is still tearing apart his life, but so far it looks like he’d bought up all the property around the community center where Maria works as part of a huge real estate deal. The purchases weren’t under his name, but a shell corporation. It looks as if his plan was to sell all the properties in one deal and make a fortune. No one even knew this was in the works, but there’s a big developer looking to put in a pseudo–shopping center. A bunch of Starbucks and other shit that the neighborhood is apparently perfect for, not that that’s important. We’re sending a guy to talk to the developer to see if he knew what Moran was up to, but I doubt it.”
“So, why was he helping terrorists, and what was his issue with Maria if she just worked there?” Because the bastard had specifically targeted her.
“This is just a guess, but Maria’s predecessor there left the property to her. The will is still in probate, but very soon Maria will be the owner of the building and the land. From our initial digging, there were multiple offers made on the center—to her predecessor—and they were all declined. If something happened to Maria before she made a will, there would be a scramble not only to find someone with her credentials to take over in a timely manner, but to figure out who the building would be passed on to. It would likely be her father since he’s her closest living relative—but he was supposed to attend the party too, so maybe Moran had planned on the entire Cervantes family dying. If that had happened, say someone offered money for the property in the interim. The state could take over, citing any number of bullshit issues, bank the money, and let it earn interest while her lawyers figured out whether to relocate or whatever. Or say it passed to one of her relatives. Why would they want to hold on to a property with an immediate buyer? Honestly I don’t fucking know and we may neve
r know. From what we’ve found, it looks like money is his number-one priority.
“Since he’s got unverified ties to some pretty big criminals in Miami, it’s not a stretch that he fell into bed with Mihails for pure monetary gain. And if he had the chance to get the last piece to his little real estate puzzle from her death . . .” Burkhart shrugged. “This is just a theory, but my gut tells me I’m right.”
Cade let out a savage curse, barely containing his rage that Maria had been put in more danger. “So, why—”
“Why didn’t our guys find this? It wasn’t in the first pass through his records because he knew how to cover his tracks—but he was definitely into shady dealings. Possibly smuggling high-powered weapons.” Burkhart’s expression was grim as he glanced back at what remained of the safe house. Half of it had been completely blown away.
The majority of the damage had been done by the initial explosion from the grenade launcher Cade had found in the backyard. Once the firefighters arrived, they’d put out the slow-moving flames.
Now that Moran was dead—apparently shot by the man Cade had killed—they couldn’t question him. Either of them. But the prints they’d run for the other man came back as belonging to a Fedor Lukovs. The man had previous ties with, big surprise, Mihails Balodis.
Cade frowned as he digested what his boss had told him. It amazed him how greed made people do the shittiest things. “Moran was at her mother’s funeral.” Cade was unable to cover the disgust in his voice. “I . . . think he might have placed a tracker on her. Maybe her purse or her person.” He sighed, rubbing a hand over his face, hating that this was likely his fault. He hadn’t thought anyone had been close enough to her at the funeral to do something like that, but clearly he was wrong. “It’s the only way to explain how he found us.” Because they hadn’t been followed. Of that he was positive. And there hadn’t been any trackers on his SUV. He always checked, but a team had done another sweep as soon as they arrived, and it was clean.