Heroes in Uniform: Soldiers, SEALs, Spies, Rangers and Cops: Sexy Hot Contemporary Alpha Heroes From NY Times and USA Today Bestselling Authors

by Sharon Hamilton

  Either dead, or on the run after he’d murdered his fellow security agent in cold-blood.

  Heart thudding, Wade cursed and hurried back through the trees, careful not to disturb the murder scene so the forensics guys could put the pieces together when they arrived. Whipping out his cell phone, he swiped his thumb across the screen and entered his security code. He paused just inside the tree line and brought the phone to his ear to report everything when he caught a flash of movement in his peripheral vision. He jerked the phone away from his ear and whirled around to see a shadowy figure approaching the east side of the house.

  His heart dropped into his stomach.

  Cursing, he shoved the phone away and burst from the trees, weapon aimed dead center mass on the fucker. But now he had to get close enough to use it.

  He tore over the open ground, not caring about snipers or other threats, focused solely on stopping the intruder before he could get to the house and harm Erin. His boots dug into the soaked grass with every step, the dull thuds matching the frantic pounding of his heart. “Freeze!” he roared when he was within earshot.

  The figure—a man wearing a black hoodie, he could see now—whipped around and froze when he saw Wade coming at him.

  “Hands in the air, now!”

  The man hesitated for a second, then slowly raised both hands in a non-threatening gesture. Wade wasn’t placated. “Get on the ground,” he snarled, slowing to circle the man cautiously.

  Through the driving rain he could make out the tall, muscular build, the short dark hair as the man reluctantly got to his knees. Not one of the security guys. “Right down,” Wade growled, watching the bastard’s hands.

  “For fuck sake, Sandberg, take it easy, it’s just me,” the man called back.

  Surprise jolted through him. He stared in astonishment. “Schafer?”

  “Yeah. Put that damn thing away, will ya?”

  No way in hell. What the fuck was he doing here? Wade stalked forward and stopped within killing range, the weapon’s aim never wavering. “How did you find us?”

  Rather than looking cowed or helpless lying stretched out face-first on the soaking wet grass, Schafer turned his head and sent Wade a withering glare. “If you’d answer your fucking phone, you’d know why and you’d have been expecting me.”

  Wade darted a quick glance around to ensure they were alone before pinning Schafer with his stare. “Who’s with you?”

  “No one,” Schafer gritted out between clenched teeth.

  “How did you get here?”

  “Drove out.”

  Wade frowned and risked a quick glance around. The timing was way too damn suspicious. Had he killed Parker? Wade didn’t want to believe it. “You alone?”

  “Yeah. Now let me up.”

  “Don’t you fucking move,” Wade warned, taking a menacing step forward.

  Schafer let out a disgusted sigh. “The director released me this morning and said he’d tell you himself.”

  “So?”

  “And so, you should realize that since I’ve been cleared of any wrong doing in this mess, I’m not a threat to you.”

  “Or you could have come here to settle the score personally,” Wade said, thinking about Parker’s body lying in those trees behind him. “Now how the fuck did you find us?” The place was way out in the middle of nowhere, with nothing but farms and horse pastures for miles in every direction. No way he’d been able to follow them, and Wade couldn’t see anyone at Langley just handing Schafer the address, verified innocence or not.

  “I overheard the address from someone. As soon as they released me I left headquarters and took a cab straight to a rental place, then drove out.”

  Rage simmered in Wade’s blood. There was no way the security team would have let anyone get near here without stopping them or at least alerting him, which meant they were all either dead or dirty. His jaw tensed. If this fucker had killed Parker in the hopes of catching Wade and Erin off guard, he’d—

  He forced himself to stop and take a slow, even breath to combat the rush of adrenaline in his veins. “So why are you here?”

  “I have to tell you something.”

  “You could’ve left a message.”

  “No, man, not for this, and you know I wouldn’t have gone to the trouble of coming here in person if it wasn’t heart-attack-serious. Look, let me up, okay? I’ve got a piece in my waistband and a backup on my ankle, but I’m not gonna reach for either of them. I’ve gotta talk to you and the woman with you, A-fucking-SAP, and somewhere where no one else is gonna hear it. Feel me?”

  Wade’s mind whirled as he walked around in an arc, keeping his body between Schafer and the house. If the bastard made a move to reach for one of his weapons, Wade would drop him without batting an eyelash. “Just say what you came to say.”

  Schafer shot him a baleful glare, then gave in. “I came to warn you.”

  That awful prickling sensation started up again at his nape. “Warn me about what?”

  He shook his head once. “Not here, man. They might be listening.”

  The driving rain would make that tough, even with a parabolic dish, and there were likely bugs inside that he hadn’t located. No, Schafer was going to have to come clean out here. “Fucking say it, asshole.”

  Schafer’s jaw flexed. “I heard someone when I was at Langley, part of a conversation I wasn’t supposed to overhear. They said something about recent chatter regarding a possible attack on the safe house. That’s how I got the address.”

  Wade stared at him, a chill skittering down his spine. If that part was true, then Bill and Robert both had to be aware of it. Which meant they either didn’t think it was credible enough to warrant alerting Wade, or Schafer was full of bullshit. “What?” he rasped, his pulse echoing in his ears.

  Schafer nodded. “I overheard some guy talking on the phone.”

  “Who and where?” If someone was going to have a potentially treasonous conversation like that, they wouldn’t do it at CIA headquarters. Schafer having “overheard” it at all was either a huge damn coincidence, or a bald-ass lie intending to make Wade let his guard down around him. Not happening. Wade wasn’t willing to bet his and Erin’s lives on either of those things.

  “Dunno, I never saw his face. I don’t trust any of those fuckers and wanted to come tell you face to face. That’s why I came straight out here. I think you both need to get out of here.”

  Wade didn’t know what to believe, but he couldn’t stand out here in plain view and keep interrogating Schafer. “Get up on your knees. Put your hands on the back of your head.”

  Schafer did as he was told, pushing up onto his knees as he held his hands out of reach of his weapons, palms out. Wade rushed forward, keeping his own weapon trained on the man’s face. “Don’t you fucking move,” he warned as he stopped in front of him.

  “I’m not gonna move,” Schafer snapped, but stayed very still as Wade pulled the Glock from his waistband and tucked it into his own, then reached for Schafer’s right ankle and took the backup.

  “You carrying anything else?” Wade asked as he frisked him with one hand, watching for the smallest twitch of movement from the other man.

  “No.” He waited until Wade gave a satisfied grunt and stepped back. “Can I get up now?”

  Wade gave a grudging nod. “Yeah.” He motioned ahead of him with the barrel of his pistol. “Get in front of me and head toward the house.” He was soaked to the skin and already shivering. Whatever the fuck was going on, he needed to call Robert and report everything, and get Erin the hell out of here.

  Schafer got to his feet and started toward the house. Wade’s heart hammered, his instincts screaming at him to go, go. He would already be on the phone to Robert had he not been unwilling to temporarily lose the use of one hand. If Schafer tried anything, he wanted to be ready. “What did they say about the attack?” he pressed, risking a glance on either side to make sure no one else was coming at him. Nothing moved but the tree branches a
nd the quiet country road at the end of the driveway remained deserted. It was dawn now but the dark, forbidding sky and the storm made it feel like it was much earlier.

  “I heard him say ‘Sandberg’, then something about a team being ready to attack the safe house, and the address. Seemed fucked-up, so here I am.”

  Yeah, it did, and Wade wasn’t ready to just accept Schafer’s version of the story. He grunted, running through the three most probable explanations. Either Schafer was lying and had killed Parker himself; he hadn’t killed Parker but was still part of this whole fucking nightmare; or he was telling the truth.

  Wade was counting on it being the third. But he wasn’t letting his guard down for an instant until he spoke to Robert and moved Erin to safety. “Move it,” he snarled, the sense of urgency making him feel like his skin was suddenly too tight, stretched thin over his muscle and bone.

  Schafer broke into a loping run. Wade stayed behind him, close enough to take him to the ground if need be. The house was still dark, so the power wasn’t back on yet. He didn’t know where Erin was but he knew she was up and waiting and he was glad because they were getting the fuck away from here right now.

  Shafer reached the edge of the grass, his feet making crunching sounds on the gravel drive as they headed toward the side entrance onto the porch. He was less than ten steps away from the bottom stair when a bullet buried itself into the wooden siding of the house with a loud thunk, shards of wood exploding from the entry hole.

  Sniper.

  Both of them instinctively ducked and whirled, then hit the ground. The only consolation was that Schafer appeared as stunned by the shot as him. Either the shooter had just gotten into position, or they’d been waiting for him and Schafer to reach the house.

  Lying on his belly on the wet gravel, heart slamming against his ribs, Wade lifted his head a fraction to stare up at the side door. He’d never make it. The sniper would take him out with one well-placed shot the moment he tried any of the doors or windows. Maybe even the moment he moved.

  Erin.

  She had a radio but the channel might be compromised and someone could be listening. He opened his mouth to yell a warning instead, praying it wouldn’t come too late.

  Danger Close: Chapter Sixteen

  Up in her room, Erin wrenched open the top drawer of the dresser, grabbed what was inside and shoved it all into the open duffel she’d set on the foot of her bed. A good fifteen minutes had passed since Wade had issued that gruff command to shoot anyone who entered, then left the house and she hadn’t heard anything from him since. Not exactly how she’d imagined waking up this morning. The perimeter around the property wasn’t that big, so he should have been able to check it by now. She pushed her worry aside and finished packing in case he came back with bad news and the order to leave.

  Hurrying to the bathroom, she was shoving all her toiletries into her kit when she heard something, and stilled. The dim light coming through the window behind her was enough to allow her to see her reflection in the mirror above the sink. Her face looked pale, her features pinched as she stilled and listened. Then it came again. The sound of distant male voices, too far away for her to hear what was being said, but it had sounded like shouting. Wade and one of the security team? Her heart thudded against her breastbone as the voices continued, her hand straying down to her hip where the radio rested in her pocket.

  Just as her fingers closed around it, the voices faded. She relaxed slightly and resumed packing. Stepping out of the bathroom, she’d taken two steps back toward her bedroom when something slammed into the house. She gasped and instinctively dropped into a crouch, her gaze flying down the stairs toward the front door where the sound had come from. Bits of plaster and wood were scattered on the hardwood floor. Wade’s voice shattered the stillness, urgent and taut.

  “Erin, sniper! Get down!”

  Instantly she went to her belly on the carpeted landing, her eyes traveling up from the debris on the downstairs floor to the silver-dollar-sized hole in the wall beside the front door.

  Shit!

  She withdrew the Beretta Wade had given her from the back of her jeans. The solid weight of the weapon felt reassuring in her hand. She pulled the radio from her pocket as she made her way to the landing, staying low. Her only thought to help get Wade inside to safety. Crouched down with her back to the wall, she stared at the front door and keyed the radio.

  “Wade, are you okay?” she asked, her voice tight and her insides shaky as hell.

  Her radio chirped a second later. “Yeah, but we’re pinned down. I got Schafer with me.”

  Relief punched through her at the sound of his voice, immediately followed by suspicion. What the hell was Schafer doing here? “A shot came through the wall by the front door. You’ll have to get around back.”

  “Let us in through the laundry room window. Keep low. I don’t know how many more of those bastards are out here.”

  “Roger.” Taking a deep breath, she raced down the stairs and ducked behind the wall separating the family room from the hallway.

  “We’re heading around now,” Wade said.

  “I’m almost to the laundry room.” She darted down the hall and into the laundry room, had just stepped over the threshold when another shot slammed into the side of the house, somewhere to her left. Cursing, she dropped to her knees and eyed the window above the washing machine. She’d have to stand to pry it open, and Wade and Schafer would not only be exposed while they accessed it; they’d be easy targets once they started climbing through.

  “Change of plan,” Wade said. “Schafer’s coming in the laundry room. I’ll come in through the family room window.”

  He’d have to make it around the other side of the house first. “Roger that. Opening laundry room window now.” Heart pounding, she shot to her feet, undid the latch and shoved the sash upward. Moments later she heard boots hit the wooden porch, then a male grunt and two hands appeared on the windowsill.

  Another shot rang out just as the unfamiliar man hoisted himself into the window and pushed his upper body through. Erin stood back against the wall, pistol aimed at him as he slid through and landed awkwardly on the floor. He looked up at her and didn’t move, a wary expression in his eyes as he took in the weapon and her stance. He must have sensed that she wasn’t afraid to use it, because he lifted both hands up and stayed on his belly. “I’m unarmed. Wade took my primary and backup.”

  She didn’t know whether he was telling the truth or not, but she knew Wade would never have let him come in if he’d been a threat to her—though his SF training made him a lethal one, unarmed or not. “I have to let Wade in,” she said, and backed out of the room, her gaze locked on him. He slowly got to his feet, hands still up to either side of his head. When he made no move toward her she whirled and ran for the family room.

  As soon as she rounded the corner she ducked low and moved as quickly as she could to the window, keeping away from where the curtains concealed the wide panes of glass. Once she was next to the left one she keyed her radio again. “I’m in position.”

  No answer, but there were no more shots either, and she knew Wade was timing his run carefully. Moving slow so she didn’t disturb the curtains and give away her position if the sniper was watching them or worse, following Wade, she reached up and found the lock in the window. “It’s unlocked,” she told Wade, her Beretta within easy reach beside her knee. “I’ll wait for your signal.”

  “On three,” he replied quietly, and she felt a burst of relief that he was still okay. She darted a glance back down the hallway, seeing Schafer as he came out of the laundry room. He no longer had his hands up but he stayed against the wall, watching her tensely.

  “One,” Wade said. She set the radio down and placed both hands on the side of the window sash. Footsteps behind her had her swinging around in alarm and reaching for her weapon.

  Schafer frowned at her in annoyance when she aimed it at him. “You cover him and I’ll get the window,”
he said in a curt tone.

  “How do I know you’re—”

  “You can’t cover him and open the damn window, so move aside and let me help,” he said in exasperation.

  They both knew the pistol was useless unless at close range, but it was all she had and he was right. And if he tried to block Wade’s access to the window or make a move to take her pistol, she’d put a bullet in him without blinking. He must have seen it in her eyes, because he grunted, his lips curving in an almost amused half-smile as she moved aside and let him take hold of the window frame.

  “Two,” Wade said.

  Schafer held her gaze, both of them tense and ready.

  “Three.”

  The thud of boots reached them as Wade vaulted the porch railing, then running footsteps. “Now,” Erin urged, moving into position beside him.

  Schafer wrenched the window open. Erin had her weapon up and through it just as Wade came into view. His face was tense, body moving in a blur as he took the last few steps toward the window. Another round slammed into the porch, sending up shards of wood from where it impacted the railing a few feet to Wade’s right. She ducked back just as he gripped the window ledge and vaulted inside. Another slug came through the open window, burying itself into the wall just inches from where he landed.

  Erin shot out a hand and yanked the curtain back in place to give them some concealment just as Wade hit the floor and rolled toward her. He shoved her back flat against the wall, shielding her with his body. Fear and frustration pulsed through her. She didn’t want him to shield her—she wanted them all to move away from the window before the sniper got lucky with a blind shot.

  “Go, go,” she urged, shoving at his wide shoulders.

  He eased away and flipped to his belly, crawling for the hallway. She was right behind him, Schafer following her. They scooted around the relative safety of the wall separating the hallway and family room and paused there. Wade shot a glance at Schafer as he spoke. “Think it’s only one shooter. We’ll hole up in here and call for backup—”