Halfway through the stack of photos, her lover's identity was revealed. Max Richmonte was lying flat on his back, expression one of complete surrender to the woman positioned between his legs.
Both men were still staring at them when Max himself came into the room, his smile self-satisfied and content. It was gone a minute later.
"What...?” Max never finished the question. His gaze fell to the pictures scattered across the table and the pleasant warmth in his mood vanished, to be replaced by cold, relentless fear.
A name from his recent past sprang to mind instantly. Warren Stadler, some inner instinct told him, despite the apparent lack of logic in it. Of all the men in his past, this was the one name that roared into the forefront of his mind.
He spun on his heel, racing for the exit. Kevin and Tommy were armed and out the door after him.
* * * *
Kaylee wrapped the towel around her, tucked one end under her arm and wandered back into her bedroom, smiling happily. She had twenty minutes to get to this morning's meeting, and thirty before her scheduled presentation. It had been so very tempting to cancel it entirely and spend the day in bed with Max. She hugged herself tightly and sat on the edge of the mattress, body tingling with remembered passion. She brushed her hand over the pillow, caressing with the backs of her fingers the hollow that had cushioned Max's head a short while earlier.
She bent down and inhaled the scent of him that clung to the linen. Deep inside, her body quivered, stirring with reawakened need. The depth of that hunger surprised her. It had only been an hour since they'd left the bed, rumpled and sated, still shaken from the intensity of their passion. Yet, she was already aching for him again. She tugged the towel away and laughed when she saw her nipples puckered and jutting outward, their points hard and sensitive. Smiling, she settled back on the bed, her head nestled into Max's pillow. She caressed her breasts, smoothing over soft skin and firm flesh repeatedly before she started tugging on her nipples. Max's voice whispered in her ear; "I love watching you play with your tits, baby."
One hand continued to stroke and fondle her breasts while her other hand snaked across her stomach and burrowed into the nest of damp curls between her thighs. She spread her legs wide and pulled up her knees. Her pussy was wet and she was aching for Max's cock. She twisted on her side and opened the drawer of the nightstand, pulling out a vibrator that had been purchased after she'd moved in and started writing her erotic book about Max. She laughed at the sight of it as she smoothed her fingers over the artificial penis. It wasn't as beautiful, or as big, as Max's dick, but it would have to do.
"Max would love this,” she murmured to the air and slid the buzzing device deep into her slick channel. The touch of the vibration made her shiver. She closed her eyes as she settled on her back and started rubbing her clit, all the while driving the vibrator in and out of her clenching channel. As her orgasm started, Kaylee pushed the humming dildo as far into her pussy as it would go and her finger worked her clit faster. Within seconds, she was twitching and gasping in the throes of a wildly intense climax.
She collapsed deeper into the softness of the mattress and lay panting for several minutes. Her hand rested on her stomach, and the vibrator continued to buzz deep inside her body, the quiver keeping her entire body tingling even as the tension dissipated in her muscles. Her smile deepened and she sighed softly.
"God, Max, what the hell have you turned me into?” She pulled the vibrator free of her body, hissing as it slid out, shining with her wetness. She snapped it off and tossed it on the bed beside her as she sat up and pulled the towel back around her. She had to get dressed and out of the house. Max had told her he'd pick her up later, and they'd bring her things to his apartment, then go out to dinner. A sound in the living room made her rise to her feet.
"Max?"
"I'm afraid not, Ms. Masterson,” a strange voice answered. She didn't have time to do more than register the presence of another person in her house; a sharp pinprick pierced the skin of her neck, pain woke, then the room faded to black...
* * * *
Max's car had barely come to a full halt before he was out and running toward her front door. His heart sank when he twisted the knob and the heavy oak panel swung inward. The silence that greeted him was deafening.
He slipped inside, gun held ready between his hands. When Kevin and Tommy entered behind him, weapons drawn, he motioned them in opposite directions, then headed for her bedroom. Her car was still in the driveway, and she should have been enroute to work, if not there already.
He went into the bedroom, and his eyes flickered shut for an instant. The bed was as he'd left it; her clothes were carefully laid out at the foot amid the rumpled linen. His mind registered the vibrator, but passed over it. He went to the patio doors, glanced out to see if she was on the private strip of beach. As he'd expected, there was no one there. He turned, spotted the towel beside the bed and went to pick it up. It was still wet.
Tommy and Kevin came into the room almost at the same time.
"Nothing, sir,” Kevin reported.
The phone beside the bed began to ring.
* * * *
When awareness returned, Kaylee wished it hadn't. Terror rose in her throat, choked her, and she thought she was going to retch. Pain throbbed insistently in her temples, and she tried to move. Horror blended with her fear. She was shackled to a cold, narrow metal bed, the steel was icy next to her naked flesh.
Unfamiliar hands stroked over her body, and a distant, unknown voice murmured in what she supposed was meant to be a soothing manner. The lulling purr frightened her further, and she twisted away, crying out when the hands at her back suddenly gripped her hair and yanked until she sobbed.
"Shhh...” the stranger hushed with malevolent kindness. “You'll be in enough pain before long, Ms. Masterson,” he informed her. “Why make it worse before then? I simply want you to be still and quiet while I make a call.” He pushed her hair aside and finally moved into her limited range of vision.
"What do you want from me?” she gasped, panic creeping into her tone.
"Nothing,” he smiled; then made a show of thoroughly appraising her body. “Not yet,” he amended, and laughed at the futile attempt she made to pull away. “Once I've had a chat with Commander Richmonte, we will get to know each other better. He seems to enjoy fucking you so much."
Kaylee bit back another sob of terrorized rage.
The pain was starting to spread.
* * * *
Max waited to see if the phone was going to stop ringing, or if a machine would intercept the call. It did, and his blood turned to ice when it was his name that echoed in the stillness of the house.
"Commander Richmonte, surely you must be there by now?"
Max grabbed up the phone that was beside the bed and activated it.
"What do you want, Stadler?” he growled.
"Very good, Commander,” the other man crowed with satisfaction. “You've put it together."
"If you wanted me, why didn't you just come after me. She's not part of it."
Laughter greeted his response, and his teeth clenched together in lethal fury.
"Actually, it's not you or your woman I want, Max,” Stadler told him with congenial forthrightness.
"She's not my woman!” Even as he made the denial, some inner voice cringed at the lie.
"Of course she is, Commander,” Stadler taunted softly. “You seem to forget, I was witness to your activities last night. You didn't simply have sex with this woman, you made love to her. Repeatedly. You can't get enough of her, and my guess is you'll want her again very soon."
"What do you want?” Max demanded.
"Your handler, Commander,” Stadler replied, and for the first time, Max heard the chill of hatred in the other man's voice. “I want Carter Baldwin. The deal is straightforward enough, give me Baldwin, and you can have this lovely lady back."
"How do I know she's still alive?” It wasn't a question that
he wanted to consider, but it needed to be out in the open if he was going to figure out his next move.
"Why don't you speak with her, Max,” Stadler offered with a snide chuckle. Max heard the slap, and the gasp of pain it elicited from her. He closed his eyes, shut out the tremor of raw anguish that knifed through him when Kaylee's shaking voice whispered into the phone; “M-m-m-max...?” Amid the agony was a confusion that cut as deeply as her pain.
The drone of a dial tone eventually penetrated his mind, and he punched the disconnect and threw the phone on the bed.
"Commander?"
He glanced at Tommy and Kevin, saw concern in both pairs of watchful eyes.
"He has her."
The two men let him walk out ahead of them, then they followed, silence awkward as each of them considered the implications of what had happened. A civilian had just been dragged into their shadowy world; an innocent bystander who might not survive because she had the bad luck to be involved with a man who could get her killed by virtue of association.
Max's resignation didn't matter a damn now. Reality was making it a joke.
* * * *
The afternoon sunshine bathed the beach in brilliant shades of beauty and light; Max Richmonte was immune for the first time. He glanced at his watch, cursed softly under his breath, and paced the warm sands. He rubbed a hand over his face, then moved his fingers to the back of his neck, noting unconsciously the knots of tension that were making his shoulders ache. The left one, already uncomfortable from his recent injury was a hot, throbbing blade of pain that simply didn't want to be ignored or dulled by medication.
"You killed his son last year in Iraq."
Baldwin's voice, expected though his presence was, made Max whirl in surprise.
"That doesn't explain why it's you he wants,” the Commander countered coldly. “Who the hell is this bastard?"
"Aaron Shane. Warren Stadler is one of several aliases,” Baldwin began as they strolled along the edge of the water in a section of the beach that was all but deserted. “He's a chemist/bio-engineer who used to work for the NSA. He specializes in exotic chemical warfare, and he went missing six months ago, along with most of his work.” Carter stopped walking and looked Max squarely in the eyes when the younger man halted and waited for him to go on. “Near as we can figure, Max, he wants you as the secondary target in his vengeance game. The botched mission in Afghanistan was orchestrated by him. To what end, we're not sure."
"None of this interests me,” Max informed him sharply. “I have a civilian hostage in the middle of this mess, and I want her back!"
"What do you want from me?"
"We're going in, tonight,” Max told him bluntly. “If we can't clean up quickly and with minimal fuss, you will help me."
The challenge was clear, but Baldwin merely nodded his acceptance of the arrangement.
"Let me know if you need anything."
Max resisted a retort, and watched the Operations Director walk back to his waiting car.
* * * *
"Max, this isn't a good idea,” Marg reasoned.
The Commander ignored her as he waited for Kevin to unearth the information he needed.
"Got it, Commander,” the slight New Yorker announced with a grin. “The call came from a factory warehouse about five miles from the beach house. It's been shut down for the past two years. He didn't even try to hide his location,” he added as he swung around to face the team leader.
"He wants me to go after her,” Max shrugged.
"Which is precisely why..."
"Marg,” Max's voice was cold with warning. “This isn't up for discussion."
"You're just going to risk..."
"No one is required to come along,” Max forestalled her objection. “This is my personal business, I don't expect any one of you to risk your lives for something that is solely my responsibility."
Tommy, slouched casually at the table, manipulating a pen along the course of his fingers with practiced dexterity, glanced up.
"That mean you don't want any help, Commander?"
Max almost smiled, then shook his head.
"I said no one was required to go,” he stated softly. “That doesn't mean your help isn't welcome."
"Count me in, sir,” T.J. Windsor said from the doorway he was leaning on. He'd arrived that morning, in response to a call from Baldwin. T.J. had been with Max's team when it was first put into operation. He'd since retired, unless something came up that was personal, then his friendship with Max took priority. He wanted to offer what help he could to his former commanding officer.
"Thanks."
"Max,” Marg's voice was quiet, filled with real concern. “You know we're all behind you on this,” she told him. “I just want you to think before you go in. Don't let your feelings for this woman interfere with your judgment."
"This woman has a name,” Max replied. “It's Kaylee Masterson. She's an interior designer, Marg. I've barely had time to tell her what the hell my life has been about. And she's being held hostage by a man who sees her as a pawn, or bait, or whatever the hell he wants to name it. She's in danger because of me."
"She knew."
"No, Marg,” he denied instantly. “She didn't. She didn't really know a damn thing about me, but she trusted me anyway."
* * * *
"Commander,” Kevin's voice was little more than a whisper breathing into the headsets of the elite team. They were closing in on the warehouse site, using darkness and silence as their only cover. The parking lot was inky black, and a single light burned deep within the bowels of the abandoned building that squatted in the middle of a large expanse of nothing. “He knows you're coming, sir."
"I'm going in alone,” Max told them. “If I'm not out again in ten minutes, I want you to do whatever it takes to nail this son-of-a-bitch. Is that understood, people?"
Tommy was listening to the exchange, unsurprised by Max's decision. He was half a mile away from the warehouse, the chopper idling as he waited for the pick-up signal.
T.J. was scanning the area for booby-traps, while Marg and Kevin shadowed the Commander.
No one was happy when Max vanished into the gaping cavern of the warehouse loading bay; the summons was blatant, the bay doors thrown wide open.
* * * *
Max paced his progress by the steady rhythm of his heartbeat, all senses attuned to the internal silence of the vast warehouse. He could feel his friends drawing closer, despite his orders. They were a highly trained team, but they all cared deeply about each other, and it made the occasional lapse in conformity unavoidable if one of them was in trouble.
Lights blazed to life around him, making him blink rapidly for a few precious seconds. His eyes adjusted, and he shouldered his gun, fully prepared to walk into what might be a deadly ambush. His instincts were telling him he wasn't going to die just yet; not until Stadler had what he really wanted. Only then would Max's life be forfeit.
"Do join me, Commander,” Stadler requested quietly, and a door swung open at the end of a long, brightly lit corridor. “Tell the others to remain where they are. If one of them enters the building, you and the lady will be dead before they can reach you."
"Stand down,” Max directed. “That is an order, people,” he added firmly. He pulled the receiver from his ear and stuffed it into a pocket; then checked the safety on his gun and holstered it. He raised his hands in an ageless gesture of compliance, then headed toward the open door that beckoned to him.
He stepped into the room, and his gaze went instantly to the woman shackled to the narrow cot. Kaylee was naked, and struggling to free herself as pain visibly wracked her body. Her right ankle was twisted so badly, he thought for a few minutes that it was broken; if not, the sprain was severe enough to keep her down for awhile. Max called out to her, but she was incognizant of his arrival. There was a terror in her eyes that had very little to do with her capture; and icy fear slithered up his spine. Despite his desire to go to her, caution and trainin
g kept him where he was, watchful and alert.
"Kaylee?"
"She can't really hear you, Commander,” Stadler told him.
Max glanced at the speaker, and held his temper in check. Stadler was unarmed, that was caveat enough; things weren't quite what they appeared. His look scanned the stranger, trying to place him in some tangible reality, not this nightmare. Stadler/Shane was a tall, thin man; with wide, lifeless blue eyes; snow-white hair; and the graceful agility of a man much younger than Max knew him to be—it was in every minuscule motion he made.
"What have you done to her?” He kept the concern from his voice, revealing nothing with the flat, lifeless tone.
Stadler laughed.
"Finding her was a rather fortunate bit of serendipity, wasn't it? If I hadn't spotted you getting into her car last night, I would never have known about her. Of course, if it hadn't been for the incompetence of my aide in Afghanistan, none of this would have been necessary. Initially, I had planned to see if you'd be more receptive to turning him over after you'd suffered a substantial amount of discomfort yourself. Still, things may work out even better, in the long run."
The man's voice had the affable pleasantness of complete madness, and Max's stomach twitched in warning.
"Just what the hell is it you want from me?” Max drew his gun again, and pointed it directly at Stadler, sighting the center of his forehead with deliberate care.
"Do be sensible, Commander,” Stadler suggested with bored indifference. “Kill me, and you'll never have the anti-toxin she needs to survive."
Max's hands never wavered, but his heart flipped wildly in his chest.
"Explain that."
The other man shrugged expansively.
"She's been given a lethal dose of a new poison I've created. It works slowly, and the pain it causes is driving her quite mad even now.” He glanced at Kaylee who was biting back screams, with only partial success. “I feel it only fair to warn you; if you attempt to ease her torment, the medication will speed the effect of the poison. She'll have lucid moments, Commander. For a few seconds she may even be able to love you. It'll pass quickly, I assure you. And, her pain will be worse with each lapse into awareness. My proposition is quite simple; I will give you the anti-toxin, and you will give me Carter Baldwin."
Simply The Best Page 7