Gray Wolf Security: Back Home

by Glenna Sinclair

  The hot water eased a little of my pain. But when I moved to get out of the bathtub, it came rushing back, my stitches pulling, my shoulder sore. I fought tears as I dried myself off, wishing I had a day or two to recover. And then I remembered the pills I’d taken from Alison’s bathroom the night before. I searched through my bag, almost squealing with delight when I found them tucked in a corner. I don’t know how many she took to render her unconscious, but the label recommended only one. I took half.

  The relief seemed to hit immediately. Probably all in my head. But I knew it would help.

  I pushed the other half of the pill into the front pocket of the jeans I would be wearing later, a few hours before dawn when we planned to hit the villa. I thought better of it and added another whole pill.

  It couldn’t hurt.

  And then I went out into the bedroom and crawled into the bed beside Malik. His arms instantly moved around my naked body, pulling me tight against his bare chest. I could feel his arousal nesting against my ass, feel the change in his breathing as his lips brushed my bruised shoulder. But that was as far as he took it, his thoughts clearly somewhere else.

  It was probably for the best. I’d need all the strength I could gather for this mission.

  Chapter 21

  Joss

  “Ensenada.”

  I looked up, my eyes grainy from the number of times I’d already reviewed the footage from the hotel. Mike was standing in the doorway, a triumphant smile on his face.

  “What?”

  “Case Michaels is in Ensenada. That’s probably where he’s got your client!”

  “How did you find that out?”

  He smiled a crooked smile that was incredibly charming. “I’m FBI.”

  I groaned, making him chuckle.

  “Are you coming?”

  I stood and grabbed my side arm from a drawer of desk, slipping the shoulder holster over my blouse. Mike watched, something new in his eyes. I tried to ignore it, but it was burned into my imagination as I pulled on my jacket and joined him in the doorway.

  “What are you waiting for?”

  I was on the phone the moment we hit the road, ordering the team I’d already put together to follow behind. It wasn’t long before a caravan of SUVs were following us down the highway.

  “Once again, damn! I wish I had your resources.”

  I glanced at Mike. “You’re the federal government.”

  “But you don’t have all the red tape we have to wade through. If I wanted a team that size, it would take at least twelve hours to authorize and organize it. Michaels would be long gone by the time we got there.”

  “The advantages of private security.”

  “Yes.” He glanced at me, his face suddenly serious. “You do understand, however, that I’m not technically working with you or your team, right? If we get this guy—and that’s a big if—you had nothing to do with it.”

  “I get it.”

  “And if this goes south, I was never there.”

  “Of course.”

  He reached over and touched my knee in a gesture that I was sure was meant to be friendly. But then his hand rested there, his palm pressed against my slacks far longer than modesty would allow. For a second, I allowed it to linger. But then I twitched my leg, forcing his hand to fall free.

  “Sorry,” he muttered.

  I shook my head, my eyes moving to the window. This was already going to be a long night after another very long night. The last thing I wanted was tension between us. But I didn’t want to lead him on, either.

  “My marriage is…strained,” I said softly, refusing to look him directly in the face, but watching his reflection in the glass. “But that doesn’t mean that I’m not committed to trying to fix things.”

  “I know.”

  “I don’t know if I gave you the wrong impression—”

  “You didn’t. It’s just wishful thinking on my part.” He cleared his throat as he adjusted his position behind the wheel. “I assure you it won’t happen again.”

  I nodded, but the tension was still there.

  I wanted to cry. I’d finally found someone who made me feel a part of things again, someone who treated me like I mattered. And I had to break his heart and shatter the easy rapport between us.

  Fuck! Was I never going to be allowed a tiny bit of happiness again?

  We pulled into the private airstrip a few moments later. Relieved to have something to distract me, I boarded the plane and gathered my team leaders, taking advantage of the flight time to discuss the recon Mike had brought us and plan our operation.

  Perhaps something good would come of this. Maybe we could save Alison Michaels tonight.

  It was the least I could ask for. Right?

  Chapter 22

  Shaw

  My head was spinning a little from the pill I’d swallowed as we left the hotel, but my limbs were moving easier now and the pain in my shoulder was just a dull throb. We drove to the edge of town in the van we’d rented, Malik holding my hand as we sat in the back. He leaned into me and kissed my neck, his breath warm and reassuring on my skin.

  I touched his face and held him close to me for a moment.

  “You wait here.”

  He nodded, a resolve in the movement that told me he’d expected as much.

  Jamey pulled the van over on the side of the road behind a stand of trees. It would remain fairly well hidden from any passersby, covering our presence until the sun came up at least. We’d found this spot the night before when we came to do our recon. It was less than half a mile from the villa.

  “If we aren’t back in two hours,” Jamey said, addressing Malik, “you go into the city and call the FBI in San Diego. You understand?”

  There was tension in Malik’s body, his jaw clenched as he stared at Jamey, but he only nodded. Jamey nodded, too, clearly deciding to declare a truce until this was over.

  Jamey and Andrew got out of the van, leaving Malik and I alone for a moment. I turned into him and kissed him, my lips lingering as I tried to lock the taste and the feel of him in my memory. His hand slipped around the back of my head, resting underneath the ponytail I’d tied my hair into.

  “Please come back to me.”

  I nodded. “I will.”

  He kissed me again, roughly this time. And then he sighed, pulling back so that I wouldn’t have to be the one to do it. We climbed out of the van to find Andrew and Jamey in a similar clutch, their arms around each other. When Jamey spotted us, he extracted himself from his lover’s touch and tossed the bag filled with weapons on the hood of the van. He handed Andrew and I an M27 rifle. It was light in my hands, familiar. It was the same weapon we had carried while on patrol in the Marines. I ejected the clip and checked it, satisfied to see it was full to capacity, holding thirty rounds. Jamey handed me three more clips that were also filled to capacity. One hundred and twenty rounds a piece. If that didn’t get us out of this, we had no chance to start with.

  I held the rifle pointed down to the ground as I turned to Malik.

  “We’ll be back in less than an hour.”

  He inclined his head, reaching to touch me again. I let his hand brush against my jaw, but I didn’t step into him. I was afraid if I did, I would never leave.

  Jamey, Andrew, and I started out, hiking down the road toward the villa. I refused to look back, a lump in my throat as we navigated a curve in the road. I’d never felt this way as I walked into an uncertain situation, but I’d never left behind someone I cared about. As ridiculous as it sounded, I couldn’t stand the idea of never seeing Malik again. There was still so much I wanted to learn about him and that I wanted to tell him about myself. We were just beginning. It wasn’t fair for it to end now.

  But all my training, all my knowledge, told me that chances were really good this was the end. It was likely going to be the end of everything.

  I brushed away a tear and took a deep, steady breath as we came within sight of the outer wall of the villa. And
rew grabbed my arm and pulled me back.

  “Are you sure you’re up for this?”

  “Yes.”

  He studied my face for a long moment. Then he nodded.

  “I’ll take the west side,” Jamey announced. “Andrew, you go north. Shaw, go south.”

  We touched fists, a habit we’d developed in Afghanistan, and headed out. I stayed low and close to the tall wall, aware from our earlier recon that the guards stayed back from the wall by about a hundred yards. There was a chance they might hear me if I stepped on a dry twig, but there weren’t a lot of trees here. I moved lightly on my feet, hidden in my dark clothing under the moonless sky.

  When I came to a small break in the wall we’d identified earlier, I paused and peeked around the edge. The nearest guard was visible fifty yards to my right. I aimed and fired, hitting him with a single round to the upper thigh. He went down instantly, a scream silenced when I raced over and slammed the butt of my gun against the side of his head, knocking him out.

  The whole thing had taken less than two minutes. Another guard was stationed another hundred yards up the way. He came even with me just seconds after I dropped into the grass. I fired, hitting him in the shoulder. Once again I ran, smashing my gun into his temple. He was out faster than the first guy.

  Jamey had insisted on head shots. We can’t afford for one of these guys to wake up and set off an alarm.

  But the last thing I wanted was to leave a bunch of dead bodies lying around a Mexican resort town. I took their guns and searched them for radios. It would take a herculean effort for them to get to the house before we were gone. I thought we could risk it.

  There were twelve men in the yard. I took out three before I reached the side porch of the villa. I paused outside a set of glass doors, watching as one of Michaels’ men harassed a pretty Latina in a short skirt, his hands continuously sliding under her skirt. I aimed through the open door and hit him in the temple.

  Oops!

  The woman screamed and ran from the house, but no one took notice. Women were probably screaming around here quite often.

  Jamey came up behind me, touching me on the shoulder. He made a signal, letting me know he was headed around to another set of doors where we’d agreed he’d enter with Andrew. There were three sets of doors on this side of the house, but one of them appeared to be padlocked from the outside for some reason. The boys were going through the front entrance where most of the men had been gathered earlier in the evening. Together they planned on taking out as many of these assholes as they could. It was my job to get to the room where Alison was being held.

  I watched Jamey go, then closed my eyes as I quickly crossed myself. This was the trickiest part of the operation. If things were going to go wrong, now would be the time.

  I slipped inside the house, swinging my gun around as I quickly searched the immediate area. Beyond this room was a hall and a set of stairs. I headed that direction, my ears straining for any unusual noises. I heard nothing even though I knew Jamey and Andrew must be inside by now.

  The stairs appeared to lead directly into the upstairs hall that the room where Alison was opened onto. But we’d only been able to peek through open windows. It was possible this staircase led somewhere else or that her room opened onto a separate hall. It was unlikely, but we didn’t know for sure. It was the unknown that scared me the most.

  I hesitated in the archway between the empty room behind me and the hall in front of me. Silence ruled, likely because it was an hour before dawn and most of the house’s occupants were asleep. That’s why we’d waited until now to do this. But I wasn’t going to take any chances.

  I moved around the base of the stairs, checking every direction I could. Then I slowly made my way up, stopping halfway when I heard voices at the top.

  “Assholes!” some woman muttered in quiet Spanish. (Wasn’t it lucky that I had an affinity for languages?) “American pricks. They think they can come in here and do whatever they want! What arrogance!”

  My heart was pounding. I didn’t want to hurt innocents, but I would if there was a chance they’d send up an alarm. But these women, whoever they were, moved on, a door slamming somewhere above me indicating they’d left the hallway.

  I continued up the stairs, chewing on the inside of my cheek so hard that I could taste blood. Still I couldn’t stop. The pain was reassuring somehow.

  At the top of the stairs I found myself in a hallway that was illuminated by small nightlights positioned every few feet just above the floorboards. As before, I moved in all directions, checking my surroundings before I even considered moving on. I didn’t like this. It was too exposed. And I wasn’t exactly sure which room Alison was in. We could see her from the windows, five down from the end of the house. But how many doors was that? There could have been one window per room, or three. I counted the doors on that side of the hall, coming up with four.

  Shit!

  But then I heard a scream and that set my feet to moving. It seemed like it had come from the third door on the left. I paused outside, pressing my ear to the heavy wooden door, listening. A voice begged for mercy, her words muffled. But I knew that voice.

  Alison.

  I tried the knob and was surprised to find it was unlocked. He was arrogant! Didn’t it occur to him that someone might have mercy on Alison and attempt to rescue her?

  I pushed the door open, raising my gun as I moved through. A man dressed in nothing but his underwear stood on the far side of the bed, his hand raised to strike the woman lying naked on the bed. I almost didn’t recognize Alison, her face was so swollen, her body so covered in bruises. He’d used more than his hands on her, if the marks told me anything. He’d been having a good time torturing her.

  She was sobbing, her body twisted as she tried to protect herself from him. But her hands were tied, one of her ankles shackled to the frame of the bed. He had her caught up like an animal, like she deserved nothing better than cattle at the slaughterhouse.

  “Who the fuck are you?” the man demanded of me.

  “Case, please,” Alison cried, her voice weary, like she was repeating a mantra she couldn’t let go.

  “Let her go!”

  He stared at me for a long moment and then began to laugh. “Are you the bitch who was supposed to be protecting her back at that hotel?” He looked me over, his laughter growing. “My guys told me about you. Brave fucking bitch!”

  I pushed a bullet into the chamber and aimed the gun at the center of his chest. “Let her go!”

  His expression turned serious for a moment. And then he charged at me, bursting around the bed so quickly that I froze for a second. If I’d fired just then, I might have hit him, might have slowed him down. But I hesitated and that gave him the time he needed to cross the room, come too close for the bullet I fired to touch him. It flew over his shoulder, shattering the window behind him. I fired again, but he grabbed the barrel of the gun and used it to shove me back into the wall.

  He hit me, open handed, smacking my head back hard enough against the plaster that it broke under the concussion, raining dust and debris over my face. I pressed my hands to his throat, shoving him backward, but he was strong. He pushed back, slamming me against the wall hard enough to knock the air out of my lungs. I raised a knee, just missed his family jewels, as he got his hands around my throat. We struggled there silently, both trying to choke the other, waiting to see who would be the first to lose consciousness. I tried lifting my knee again, but I was quickly growing weak; the pills I’d taken were not helping with my stamina at this point.

  I squeezed harder, aware that my only hope at this point was breaking his hyoid bone. But there was insanity in his eyes, a clear understanding that he was too far gone to lose. I’d known I was walking into a fight I probably wouldn’t win, but this was not the way I saw myself going out.

  My vision was beginning to darken around the edges when a red flower suddenly bloomed between Michaels’ eyes. His body went limp a moment lat
er, falling forward onto me. But his hands had relaxed around my throat and the rush of air brought back a wave of strength. I pushed him away from me and watched him fall to the floor, momentarily struck dumb by what had just happened.

  “We have to get out of here!”

  I looked up and Malik was standing there, a gun in his hand.

  “What…how?” I couldn’t believe he was here. I felt a mixture of shock and anger.

  He didn’t answer. Instead, he ran his hand over my throat, kissing my forehead lightly before he turned and ran over to the bed. Alison was screaming, a fact I hadn’t realized until that moment. Malik untied her hands and she began attacking him, slamming her fists against his chest, his face. That pushed me into action. I went over and grabbed her wrists, forcing her down against the mattress.

  “Stop!” I cried.

  She looked up at me, her eyes so swollen that she could barely see through the slit they left her. But then she recognized me.

  “Shaw?”

  “We’re here to take you home.”

  “I can’t find the key!” Malik announced.

  I rushed around the bed and saw that Alison’s ankle was shackled with handcuffs. We both searched through the side table and the dresser. It wasn’t until I saw the jeans on the floor that I thought to search them. The key was in the front pocket.

  We had to get out of there. We had no idea how many people were still left in the house or how many had heard what had just gone down in here. Michaels’ people wouldn’t be thrilled to discover their boss was dead. We needed to be gone when they figured it out.

  We unlocked the cuffs and I found some clothes that I quickly helped her put on while Malik checked the hallway. When she was ready, he gestured for us to come. I picked up my rifle on the way, pushing her into his arms as I took the lead position. He didn’t argue, slipping his arm around her waist to help keep her on her feet.

  We slipped into the hall and managed to get almost all the way to the stairs before the first door opened. No longer worried about the body count, I pushed Malik and Alison in front of me towards the stairs and fired, taking out a bald guy before he was even all the way out the door. Another man stuck his head out of his own bedroom, a girl curiously shooting questions at him. I shot him in the jaw just as he began to tell her to shut up.