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

  He was heavy against her, growing limp within her when he said, “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it to be like this.”

  Caterina silenced him with the barest touch of her finger against his lips.

  “Don’t apologize. I wanted this. I needed this.”

  The soft strands of his hair tickled her breasts as he nodded and said, “I think I love you.”

  He shocked her with his words. Smiling, she urged him upward to place a gentle kiss on his lips as he slipped out of her. “I think love you, too.”

  As he gazed down at her, a hesitant grin blossomed on his lips. “Glad to hear that.”

  Sins of the Flesh: Chapter Thirty-Seven

  Mad Dog would be expecting them to come down either Hartshorne Drive or one of the multi-purpose paths running beside that main road. He might also be familiar with the black Jeep Mick had been driving.

  A stop to his cousin Ramon to advise him of what had happened as well as to swap out cars took care of one of the problems. Ramon’s Safari Wrangler with its desert sand paint job would be hard to pick out, especially since he planned to drive it along the water’s edge.

  Based on his review of the details of the area and Mad Dog’s instructions, Mick guessed that his nemesis had Liliana in one of the old ammo depots somewhere between the Nike radar site and the gun batteries toward the northernmost part of the national park. If Mad Dog positioned himself along the top floors of any of the remaining battery buildings or close to the rise for the lighthouse, he would have a clean line of fire toward both the path and road.

  As Mick drove past the ranger station, he cut the lights on the Wrangler, and pulled the SUV off the road and onto the sand.

  He stopped it for a moment to make sure Caterina was ready.

  She was buckled into the passenger seat beside him, dressed all in black once again. Her upper body bulky from the Kevlar vest beneath the sweater.

  “Are you ready?” he asked.

  Caterina nodded and he reminded, “Keep your head down and stay behind me. If things go south – ”

  “I’ve got your back no matter what,” she reassured and Mick had no doubt about it. She had proven her strength of character time and time again.

  Her strength was why he loved her.

  With a curt bob of his head, Mick sent the Wrangler careening along the hard-packed sand close to the waterline. It might have been a fun ride under different circumstances. The moon was bright above them and the occasional spray of water kicked up by the tires as they cut through the water at the shore’s edge was refreshing.

  Caterina hung tight to the handle along the roll bar as the car bounced from side-to-side as they hit a dip in the sand.

  They made it past the radar site, but Mick feared they were too close to Atlantic Drive as they neared Gunnison Beach.

  He trained his gaze toward the lighthouse as they approached and breathed a sigh of relief as they passed without incident. Ahead of him, the half-moon’s light illuminated the shadows of the older buildings and battery guns. To the right of them, beyond the water’s edge, lay the glittering lights of Manhattan.

  He stopped just short of North Beach where the walking trails would lead them to the old proving grounds and batteries.

  The first ping sounded against the Wrangler a second later.

  “Get down,” Mick said and forced Caterina’s head below the edge of the windshield which cracked in one corner as a second bullet struck the SUV.

  He hit the gas and the vehicle lurched forward until with a sharp turn, he nearly buried it into the side of a high row of dunes which provided cover from Mad Dog’s sniper fire.

  “You okay?” Mick asked as he undid his seatbelt.

  “Fine,” she answered and crept from the car and toward the protection of the dune.

  He went to the back of the Wrangler and removed his assault rifle and satchel. At the dune’s edge, he slipped on his night vision goggles and peered above the rim of the dune, using thick tufts of marsh grass for cover.

  A bullet plowed into the sand a few feet away. A good sign. Mad Dog had lost sight of them, but the shot had exposed Mad Dog’s position at the top ledge of one of the crumbling battery buildings. A chain link fence with warnings posted about trespassing lined the perimeter of the structure.

  From this angle Mick couldn’t get off a killing shot so he wasn’t going to even try and expose their location.

  Plus, he suspected Liliana was hidden well below ground in one of the old ammo storage areas. If he and Caterina could swing around the edge of the dunes and enter one of the farthest most battery buildings, Mad Dog would likely fall back to where he held Liliana captive, counting on the traps he had set to do the job.

  Mick crawled back down to where Caterina hunkered at the bottom of the dune and swung the rifle strap over his shoulder.

  In the barest of whispers, he explained their next moves. “At the end of this dune there’s a chain link fence. We need to get past it and into the nearest building.”

  He returned to the vehicle and pulled a small bolt cutter from the back. With that in hand, he crept along the dune’s edge to the first accessible section of fence. To distract Mad Dog, he picked up a large piece of broken cement and tossed it back toward where he had grounded the Wrangler. The piece landed with a noisy clatter on the hood.

  Mad Dog opened fire like Mick had hoped, giving him the opportunity to cut through the bottom section of the chain link and pry it up and out of their way. Unfortunately, the jingle of the metal alerted Mad Dog to their real location.

  Mad Dog shot in their direction, but not before Mick had gotten a clear look to confirm where to enter the crumbling battery building. Rifle in hand, he crouched down close to the high dune. “I’m going to give you cover. When I start firing, run straight ahead. You’ll see a rusty metal door that’s hanging half-open. Go through that doorway and wait for me. Understood?”

  “Understood,” she said and at his nod, slipped around him to wait at the dune’s edge.

  “On three,” he said and counted down.

  On three Mick stood up and opened fire on Mad Dog’s position. Caterina charged ahead, straight for the opening.

  Bullets struck the ground behind her, sending up bits of dirt. She reached the door unharmed, too quick for Mad Dog to hit.

  Ducking back behind the safety of the dune, Mick took a deep breath before he began his way through the fence. He would be exposed for a few moments while he tried to fit through the opening, but there was no other choice.

  Mick ducked through and came up firing, but not before he felt the stinging burn high up on his arm.

  He ignored the heat that said he’d been hit and plowed forward to the door and past its rusty exterior to where Caterina waited for him.

  “Thank, God,” she said as he joined her.

  She laid a hand on his arm, but pulled it away immediately.

  Caterina looked down at her hand wet with his blood. “He shot you.”

  “A scratch,” he said and meant it. The bullet had only grazed his arm.

  Sensibly she didn’t argue with him. There was no turning back on this mission so it made no sense to waste time arguing or worrying.

  Mick examined the interior of the building. The white-washed cement walls were damp with water in spots, rust-stained in others, and showing extreme signs of decay. If the tunnels were in similar conditions, they would be treacherous in and of themselves. Plus he had no doubt Mad Dog would have rigged at least one booby trap in the tunnels near where he held Liliana.

  “Keep close behind me. Watch where I step. Do the same.”

  At her nod, he headed to the rusty stairs leading to the battery tunnel.

  * * *

  Fuck. I underestimated Carrera, Mad Dog thought as he picked his way across the crumbling roof to the climbing gear he had used to get up there in the first place. The interior of the building had been too uncertain to navigate.

  Mad Dog rappelled down the side of the building an
d onto the weed-choked ground littered with bits of rubble from the disintegrating structures. He crouched down, picking his way back to the rear entrance and the tunnel where he had stowed Carrera’s sister.

  Morales was waiting for him by the entrance, a sly smile on his face. When he approached, Morales said, “You understand what you need to do.”

  As if he hadn’t understood all along. Not to mention that he didn’t much care for people interfering in his plans. “I get it, but I don’t like your kind of insurance.”

  Morales clucked and shook his head. “You’ll thank me for the help when this is all over and you’re two million dollars richer.”

  It was only the pay raise that made him tolerate Morales’s interference. “I’d make myself scarce, Dr. Morales. It’s going to get hairy around here.”

  “I believe I’ll do as you suggest,” the other man said and walked away, heading toward the public parking lot a short distance away from the battery buildings.

  Eager for the fight, Mad Dog made sure he had a full load in his rifle and ducked into the tunnel to finish the job.

  Sins of the Flesh: Chapter Thirty-Eight

  The stairs leading up the wall barely held Mick’s weight. The rungs on the opposite side leading down into the tunnel had disintegrated beyond use. He sat on the top ledge of the wall and waited for Caterina to top the rise.

  “I’ll help you down.” When she was settled on the ledge, he turned and using his upper body strength, lowered himself down before dropping the last few feet to the ground.

  Caterina was a fast learner, copying his move and falling to the floor with little need of his assistance, reminding him of the strength that Edwards’ experimentation had produced in her.

  “Showoff,” he teased, trying to keep the mood light despite the grimness of their mission.

  “I had a good teacher,” she said and offered up a hopeful smile.

  Mick gestured to the wide vaulted tunnel before them. “Remember, step where I step. Mad Dog probably laid some traps.”

  She nodded and he cautiously entered the passageway, keeping his eyes open for signs of tracks which might either lead him toward Liliana or warn of any trip wires or other traps. He moved carefully, but not slowly since each second of delay at this point could risk his sister’s life. Caterina was sure-footed behind him, following his lead and orders like any good soldier.

  When their tunnel joined up with another one, he held up his hand and she stopped behind him. Ahead of them along the tunnel floor were tracks in the sand and dirt which had drifted in through the gaps in the walls.

  Mick flipped up the night vision goggles he had donned and resorted to using the flashlight from his belt. Sweeping the flashlight back and forth along the floor, he noted the signs that someone had been dragged down the corridor as well as the occasional darkening of the ground in spots.

  “Is that – ”

  “Blood,” he finished for Caterina. A chill sweat erupted on his body at the thought of Liliana being hurt, but he reined in that reaction.

  Calm and logic had to be in control.

  He bent for a closer examination of the tracks and something gnawed at him. The tracks were deep. Deeper than he expected given Liliana’s weight.

  Keeping that in the back of his mind, he rose and entered the second tunnel, carefully following the trail left behind in the dirt and sand.

  He had not gone more than twenty or so feet when he caught the glint of something close to the ground. He held up his hand and Caterina paused behind him. Crouching down, he gingerly reached out and encountered the recognizable bite of metal – a trip wire strung across the width of the tunnel at ankle level.

  Peering beyond the trap, the area appeared clear. The drag marks continued onward as far as he could see in the darkness within the passage. About another fifteen ahead, there was more water along the tunnel floor, seeping in through breaks in the wall. A large chunk of the ceiling had collapsed and lay strewn along the ground. The tracks seemed to sweep around that debris.

  Mick glanced over his shoulder at Caterina and pointed to the booby trap. “There’s a trip wire here. Be careful as you cross.”

  She confirmed his instruction and he stepped high over the trip wire. Moved ahead just enough for Caterina to clear the booby trap as well.

  At the puddle of water and spill of debris, he hesitated again, searching for another snare, but the area was clear. He picked his way past the rubble, treading carefully. Knowing that each step brought him closer to saving a woman he loved and possibly losing a woman he loved.

  He couldn’t live with either choice.

  The momentary distraction of that thought cost him.

  The floor gave way beneath his foot a second before totally collapsing. He grabbed at the air and one hand got a temporary hold along the lip of the cement floor. His body slammed against the side of the wall in the hole into which he had fallen.

  He raised his other hand, reaching for the floor, struggling to keep from falling the rest of the way down. As he fumbled for the edge of the cement, he encountered Caterina’s hand.

  She grabbed hold of him, her grip strong and steady.

  “You okay?” she asked as she poked her head over the edge of the hole. She was lying on her stomach along the floor.

  “Could be better,” he admitted and risked a glance downward. The drop to the ground was at least another ten feet or more. Too far to fall without injury, although the water at the bottom might cushion his drop.

  He was about to ask her if she could help him up when she asserted some force and slowly pulled him upward.

  As she did so, he got a better hold with his other hand and working together they lifted him out of the hole.

  “Forgot how strong you were,” he admitted once he was back on the ground and sitting beside her.

  “Another trap?” she asked and leaned over the edge of the hollow to look downward.

  Mick shook his head and joined her at the edge, peering into the deep well, examining its circumference and depth before it occurred to him what it was.

  “It’s an old Nike missile silo.” He glanced upward where a round metal hatch sat above the cavity, confirming his impression. Water dripped in from around the edges of what had likely been a gun battery during World War II.

  “I should have been more careful,” he said, angry with himself, but she laid her hand over his, the hand that had just saved him, now comforting.

  “You’ve been careful, but you can count on me to help.”

  He could. She was level-headed. Strong as she had just proven. Not to mention the camo thing.

  “I won’t forget that again, Cat. When it comes down to the fight – ”

  “I’ll be there,” she reassured with a gentle squeeze of his hand.

  “Roger. Let’s head out,” he said and stood, careful to skirt the edges of the missile silo. Even more vigilant as they neared the end of the tunnel and the rusted metal door which he assumed would lead to the ammo storage area where Liliana was being held.

  Mick paused at the door and signaled Caterina to take a spot by the opposite wall. Dropping into a crouch, he pushed the door open a bit with the muzzle of his rifle. It groaned from the movement and produced an immediate response.

  Rapid-fire gun shots, probably from an AK-47, pinged against the metal doors, driving him back from the opening.

  Mick dropped to the ground and proceeded hand-over-hand toward the opening again. The door had remained partially open and as he remained behind its protection, he peered within the ammo room. Even in the dim light he perceived a figure strapped to a chair in the center of the space.

  Dead center.

  Another burst of gunfire sounded against the metal of the door and ricocheted back into the room, driving him back as he considered how to breach the area safely.

  Mick judged the barrage of bullets to have come from the right side of the room.

  He couldn’t enter without exposing himself or Liliana to
danger.

  Looking toward Caterina, he said, “No matter what, stay put.”

  Before she could respond, he crawled back toward the opening and called out, “This isn’t much fun, is it, Mad Dog?”

  Mad Dog answered with another volley from the AK.

  He cursed beneath his breath, but forged ahead with his plan. “Getting soft on me, Mad Dog? Too scared for a little mano-a-mano? Might be more interesting than just wasting ammo.”

  The scuff of a foot on cement sounded loudly in the room. “Scared, Carrera? Mano-a-mano it is,” Mad Dog said.

  A shadow became visible, falling against Liliana’s feet as she sat in the chair. A clatter followed as a clip for an AK hit the ground beside the chair.

  Mick rose from the ground, but remained behind the protection of the door. Releasing the clip on the M16, he tossed it close to the chair as well.

  “Now this is going to be fun,” Mad Dog said and stepped into Mick’s line of sight. He had no doubt the other man had at least another gun somewhere on his body, but for now, the AK was useless and to further prove it, Mad Dog dropped it to the ground by the chair.

  Mick rose and set the rifle against the door, close to where Caterina stood and removed his satchel. He placed it beside the rifle, and pointed to it, hoping she would remember there was a spare clip inside the bag.

  With a last glance at her, Mick entered the ammo room and faced Mad Dog as he stood several feet away from Liliana, who was strapped to a chair in the shadows. Despite the lack of light there, he could see the darker stains of blood on the front of her shirt and the way her head lolled back at an awkward angle.

  Fear gripped him followed by anger.

  Killing anger.

  “You promised to let her go if I brought you Shaw,” Mick said, fists clenched at his side.

  Mad Dog chuckled and shook his head. “So where is Shaw?”

  “She’s outside, waiting in the tunnel for the exchange.”