by J. M. Madden
“Some of the mercenaries they fought were harder to take down than expected,” she said softly. “I know it took Big Kenny and Zero both taking one guy down. They didn’t want to shoot all of the guards because Rose wanted to take some in for questioning. I know they retrieved a few before we took off.”
Fontana sighed into her hair. That was good news. Everything was happening the way he’d wanted it to. Anton was in custody as well as several of his men. Truckle, maybe. And the men that had been repeatedly tested upon were safe.
All in all, Operation Absolution had been a success, other than the dead they’d found in Venezuela. They’d confirmed a lot of things, and rescued men who’d had no say in the path their lives had taken once they’d volunteered for the project. Fontana knew that those men would have a lot of adjusting to do. But before they even returned to civilian life they would have to be tested or monitored for a certain amount of time to see what abilities they did or didn’t have.
Even as his brain thought through the details, his body seemed determined to go in a different direction. It liked the closeness of Jordyn and wanted to be even closer. He tried not to be assertive, but even standing loosely in his arms she felt him respond. Looking up, she gave him a thoughtful smile. “You know nothing can happen here.”
He shrugged lightly. “I know, but it doesn’t mean I can’t enjoy holding you.”
That seemed to satisfy her just fine, because she parked her head against his chest again. They stood there, holding each other against the sway of the massive ship beneath them, until someone called from the other side of the partition.
Jordyn backed out of his arms. “Come in,” she called.
The medic stepped in, looking him up and down. A nurse in uniform stepped in right behind him, smiling.
“Fontana, this is Dr. Giraldi,” Jordyn said. “He operated on your leg in the field.”
Fontana held a hand out to the man. “Doctor? I expected a medic. You did a fantastic job, Doc.”
Giraldi waved a hand. “I’m honestly amazed to see you on your feet, Mr. Fontana. That was a pretty devastating injury. Mind if I check you over?”
Fontana moved to sit on the exam table and scooted back. “Maybe you can take the head bandage off first. It’s bugging me the most.”
Giraldi looked at him oddly but reached for the wrap around his head. Fontana would have blushed if the doctor had insisted he start lower. This would give his body time to chill.
Jordyn crossed her arms beneath her breasts, and he realized she was still completely dressed for combat, only her helmet was missing. Damn, he must have been truly out of it if he hadn’t noticed all that. She looked glorious, petite and fierce, her mussed hair down over her eyes. More importantly, there was worry in her eyes. For him.
He forced a grin as the doctor removed the last of the bandaging. Giraldi handed the gauze away to the nurse, then wet down a wad of cotton with water and started scrubbing his head. There was no pain, just a bit of an itch.
Giraldi stopped cleaning and stepped in front of him. “I know you had a wound, there. Now there’s barely a scar.”
He tugged on Fontana’s sheet and looked at his rib injury, then drew back, frowning. Removing the stethoscope from around his neck he plugged the earpieces into his ears and held the end to Fontana’s chest. “Breathe for me. Deep breaths in … and out. Again. Once more.”
Fontana did as he was told, knowing that their recovery abilities would be an issue sometime, but not sure how to get out of it.
Giraldi removed the stethoscope and pulled the sheet further away to look at his legs.
“Where are the damn stitches?”
Fontana glanced guiltily at Jordyn. “We took them out. They were itching.”
Giraldi touched the wound. Even the little tiny blood spots were gone now. “How in the hell is this possible? I put those stitches into a gunshot wound, after surgical repair, less than five hours ago.”
Fontana winced. He hadn’t realized how little time had passed. Shrugging, he looked the doctor in the eye. “I’m really not sure.”
That was the truth, but Fontana was fudging it just a bit. He knew it had been the serum he’d been given two years ago, but there was no way he could tell the doctor that. Aiden still had some of the serum somewhere, but he hadn’t seen it for a long time. Fontana wasn’t sure where his buddy had hidden it.
“Can you stand up for me, please, Mr. Fontana?”
Standing, he went through the small exercises Giraldi asked him to do. His leg twinged a bit, but not too bad. And his lungs seemed be just fine. He ran a hand over the back of his head. There was a line of stubble where the bullet had grazed his scalp, shaving hair. It would grow in eventually.
Giraldi had planted his hands on his hips. “I don’t know what to say. I wish all of these men we found out here could have a tiny portion of the healing ability you’ve exhibited. It’s going to take them months of steady care to get back to where they need to be.”
“Years,” Fontana corrected, and he let the doctor see the experience in his expression. “At least two.”
With a single, thoughtful nod, Giraldi marked something on a tablet the nurse held. “If you don’t mind I’d like to take a blood sample.”
“I do. We need to get out of here. Have you seen Officer Rose?”
Giraldi frowned. “No, not yet. You won’t give me a blood sample?”
Fontana shook his head. “Not right now. I need to get back with my team.”
The doctor frowned and looked Fontana up and down. “I guess I have no reason to stop you. I really wish you’d reconsider, maybe take some time to sleep.”
He glanced at Jordyn with a slight smile. “I slept on the ride in.”
Giraldi waved his hands. “I can’t really stop you then.”
As if in answer the young sailor brought a pile of clothes into the space. “Here you go, sir.”
“Thank you, O’Connell.”
The young man left, and right after Dr. Giraldi and the nurse. Jordyn looked at him with raised brows. “I can’t believe you got away with not giving him a sample.”
Fontana smiled and shrugged as he dropped the sheet to the floor. Jordyn blinked, and her cheeks flushed. The scarred skin on the right side of her face mottled with color, like it wanted to blush but couldn’t any longer. Grinning, he stepped toward her, till there was less than a breath between them. Reaching behind her head, he sealed the partition closed as much as it would go. Her eyes rolled slowly up to his, taking their time getting there as they scanned his body. Not for injuries, like she had before. Now she was looking at him like a woman looked at the man she desired. He would cherish that slow look in the depths of his heart. Her eyes dilated with arousal and her tongue flicked out to wet her lips. The wanting was there on her face, like she was looking at a decadent cupcake.
Not one of these things did she do deliberately, which made them all the more dear to him. This entire Collaborative situation was about to blow, and when it did the reverberations would be echoing across the country. Hell, the world. But for that second in time, he could see in her eyes that he was the most important thing to her.
Fontana reached out to cup her face in his hand, and his thumb stroked over the scars on her cheek, then they traced back through her hairline and over her damaged ear. A shudder rippled through her and her eyes fell. Cupping the back of her neck in his hands, he leaned down enough to whisper against her lips, “I love the way you respond to me.”
Then he kissed her like he’d been wanting to for days, his tongue slipping into her mouth to taste. She moaned and gripped his face in her small, strong hands, tilting her head up for him so their mouths aligned better. There was a good bit of height difference, but he didn’t mind bending down for her as long as she would meet him part way.
One of Jordyn’s hands ran down his shoulder, then along his arm till she gripped his wrist in her hand. He thought she was going to push him away, but she didn’t, just held him as
if she didn’t want him to let go. Fontana shifted, allowing his body to rest against hers. If she didn’t have her combat gear on, this would be much more enjoyable.
She seemed to come to the same conclusion, because she drew back, laughing a little. “You are bad, that’s all I can say.”
She leaned into his hold on her neck, but he didn’t let her go. Instead, he brought her in for another quick kiss, lingering over the taste of her bottom lip. She moaned, and her hands fell to his chest. Those short, feminine fingernails scratched through his chest hair and he gasped, loving the feel of her hands on him. Swirling her fingers, she danced them down his ribs to rest on his hips.
Fontana wished they had more than a thin partition between them and the world, because he would take her in a heartbeat. As it was, they could be giving someone an auditory thrill if they were close.
He drew back this time, his body rock hard and aching. “My name is Drake.”
Jordyn tipped back her head and laughed, her eyes creased with sudden amusement. He’d remembered what she’d told him in the bathroom at Pablo’s, that she wouldn’t sleep with a man she didn’t know. He didn’t think she could know him much more than she already did, but he would give her that part of himself.
“Are you serious?”
He nodded, mouth spreading in a smile. “Why?”
“My best friend’s name is Drake, and now my … other, sexy friend.” She giggled, and it was the most lighthearted he’d ever heard her. Then her eyes flicked to the floor and he knew when she caught sight of his body. Her expression sobered and she gave him a thoughtful look.
“It is my true pleasure to meet you, Drake. I hope we’re going to get much better acquainted.”
Oh, fuck yes.
Chapter Twenty-Five
“Ahem,” a voice said from the other side of the partition.
They jerked apart guiltily, then grinned at each other.
“Just a minute,” Jordyn called.
Then she just stood there and watched Fontana, Drake, get dressed. Oh, he was so damn lickable her mouth actually watered. And that tight underwear did nothing to conceal him from her eyes. If anything they outlined and teased.
She huffed out a breath and turned away, not sure exactly what she was going to do now. Actually, she knew what she needed to do. She needed to go get Margarita. The poor thing was all alone out in the jungle. Her uncle would never forgive her if anything happened to her. If she were honest with herself, though, she would admit that the last thing she wanted to do was leave Fontana. There was a throbbing need in her blood that he had stoked and needed to be satisfied. It had been at least a year since she’d been with anyone, and her body craved his touch.
Tightening muscles low in her body, she stepped back from temptation.
Fontana dressed quickly, and everything seemed to fit him the way it was supposed to. His eyes met hers and he smiled, understanding the frustration of being in the wrong location at the right time. Or was it the right location but the wrong time?
Officer Rose stood waiting on the other side of the partition, and he didn’t look happy when they stepped through. His arms were crossed and he looked frazzled, like the past twenty-four hours had taken a lot out of him. And they probably had. The biggest takedown of his career was within his grasp. As long as he could gather all the parts together.
“Come with me,” he said shortly, and turned away.
Jordyn wasn’t sure if he’d been speaking to her or just Fontana, but with a look at Fontana she decided to follow along. Rose led them to a small conference room with a long window that looked out onto the deck of the ship. It was lit as bright as day, and there were people moving around in every direction. She looked at the watch on her wrist. Just going on four am. Seriously?
“You need to tell me what happened at that camp.”
Rose knew what had happened on her end, he’d been there, but Fontana shifted.
“We’d moved close and I spotted Scofield when he went into the medical center. Then the second plane came, bringing Dustin Truckle. Did you find him? He was probably curled up on the floor in pain with a bunch of dead Collaborative mercs around him.”
Rose frowned and spoke into a handheld radio, then held a finger to an earpiece. It was obvious he was listening to a response, but when he was done he shook his head. “Give me a description.”
Fontana did that, sinking down into one of the conference table chairs. Jordyn sat down beside him and rested a hand on his knee, beneath the table. He gave her an appreciative look, then turned back to Rose.
“No bodies with that description, are you sure he was in that room?”
Fontana sighed. “Yes. The doctor that was in there injected him with a cocktail of illnesses that caused him to be in intense pain. He was literally curled up on the floor damn near bawling like a baby when I left him.”
“Why didn’t you kill him?”
“Because I wanted him to suffer like I suffered two years ago.”
Officer Rose shook his head and scrubbed a hand through his hair. “I’m coming into this late, but I think I’ve pieced a few things together. The Dogs of War — you and Wulfe, were prisoners in the Brazilian camp two years ago. And somehow you broke out, stealing information when you did?”
“Yes,” Fontana confirmed.
“I don’t understand the two-year gap.”
Sighing, Fontana rocked back in the chair. “There were four of us that broke out. When we left we each took part of the evidence, one of the four stick drives of Dr. Shu’s personal notes. We scattered, knowing that they would be trying to track us down. But those drives had to be together in order to work. TJ was killed delivering his drive to Aiden Willingham, our fourth. The Lost and Found Investigative Service has been helping us with the technical aspect, keeping the drives secure and compiling the evidence.”
Though he wasn’t writing anything down, Jordyn knew that Rose was committing everything to memory. She had no doubt that within minutes of this interview LNF, its partners, employees, history, financials and business dealings would be under investigation. Hopefully Rose wouldn’t piss them off too much before he asked for all of the info they’d compiled…
“I’m going to need a copy of everything they have,” Rose started.
“You’ll get it, after we get some assurances.”
Fontana folded his hands together over his stomach. Officer Rose got an odd look on his face. “What kind of assurances?”
Fontana rocked forward and looked at him for a long moment. “We need your promise of protection. We’ve done some things that would definitely fall into the gray area of the law in order to make sure that this company was brought to justice. Literally, we’ve had to fight for our lives over the past two years. It will be a blanket protection for all the members of the Dogs of War, as well as the Lost and Found Investigative Service, all of their officers and employees. We want a get out of jail card for all past, present and future indiscretions against the Silverstone Collaborative and/or her officers and employees.”
Jordyn thought Rose’s eyes were going to pop out of his head. “I can’t promise anything like that! Are you off your fucking rocker?”
“Sure, you can. Make us covert CIA operatives if you have to,” Fontana laughed, “placed in the field retroactively or some shit. Then I want your promise that our military careers will be reinstated, as well as that of every American we’ve rescued. We will also be given the option of retirement with full benefits or employment in another agency. The younger survivors might want to go back to their branch of service, if they want to do that, they can. Military personnel from other countries are to be offered asylum from their home country if they desire it, considering they were sold out to the company, or immediate return home. Bottom line is, these guys— American and all the other countries— were sold a bill of sale by their governments that they were going to be super soldiers and heroes by the time the Collaborative was done. All they did was make them, us, into lab r
ats.”
Officer Rose seemed shell-shocked, and she kind of felt bad for the man. So far she hadn’t heard Fontana request anything she disagreed with. Then something occurred to her and she squeezed his knee. “And for all those that have died …they need to be honored posthumously, with full military benefits to their families. And they need to be told what actually happened, not some bullshit story.”
Fontana nodded. “Agreed.”
The man across from him shook his head. “There’s no way I can authorize any of this.”
Fontana waved a hand, a slight smile deepening the dimples in his cheeks. Jordyn wanted to kiss those dimples, but she figured Rose had been shocked enough for this meeting.
“Do you still have people at Mourinda?”
“Oh, yes. We’re still documenting and collecting evidence.”
“We need a ride back out there,” Fontana told him, pushing up out of his chair. Jordyn followed.
Rose frowned and shook his head. “There’s no reason for you to go out there, again. We have everything under control.”
“I have to get Margarita,” Jordyn told him. “My helicopter.”
“Margarita?” Rose shook his head, waving it away. “Whatever. Fine.”
“And I need to get Truckle.”
Rose narrowed his gaze on Fontana. “Why is he so important?”
“Because he was appointed to take over the research program by Damon Wilkes. And right now, Wilkes has no idea what’s going on. But as soon as Truckle gets his happy feet to a phone, he’s going to go tattling to Wilkes and all your months of investigating Wulfe said you’ve done will be down the tubes.”
Jordyn thought she was going to have to grab Officer Rose before he keeled over, but he caught himself.
“You’ll be on the next chopper out,” the officer promised.
Fontana winked at her. “Yeah, I thought so.”
The Chinook was originally slated to return to Mourinda in five hours. Rose got that shortened to two hours. It would take just that long to clean, restock and refuel the one they’d been on before. Fontana hoped they found a fresh pilot as well.