Seek and Destroy (TREX, #5)

by Allie K. Adams

  “Noooooo!” David jerked awake and blinked to clear his eyes, his mind. Holy shit. Drawing in several breaths to slow his pulse, he traced the room with his gaze to make sure they were still in her house, still among the land of the living.

  Romance novels lined the walls, and a gigantic desk took up most of the room. Holy Christ. They were in her office. Thank God.

  “Did you have a nice nap?” Charis asked him as she sipped at the contents of her mug.

  He rubbed his eyes and blinked again. “How long have I been out?”

  “Maybe an hour. You looked tired. I didn’t want to wake you. Besides, for what I’m doing, you don’t even need to be in here. Why don’t you go lay down for a while.” She looked at the clock above her desk. “It’s after midnight.”

  “I’ll sleep after we find Surreal. Is there coffee?”

  She nodded. “I made a pot about ten minutes ago.”

  He grabbed her mug and took a drink. The bitterness clenched his glands. “Ah, Jesus. What the hell is this?”

  “Herbal tea. I don’t want caffeine this late.” She grabbed her mug back.

  To hell with that. He needed the caffeine. He rose from the chair and headed out of the room to the kitchen. After filling a mug with the steaming liquid, he sighed and sank onto one of the chairs at the kitchen counter, almost falling back to sleep when he rested his chin on his hand, his elbow on the counter. He rolled his neck, his mind back on his dream. He tried to clear the image of her blowing up right before his very eyes.

  He gave a shudder. They had to find Surreal and stop him before he found a way to get to Charis. David couldn’t live with himself if anything happened to her. If he lost her, he’d lose himself.

  “David?” Her voice rang out from her office.

  “What is it?” He hurried back, the thought of his dream still holding him on edge. As he noticed the way two of her six monitors blinked from green to red, he slowed. “Why are they blinking like that?”

  “I found something. My mining program picked him up hacking into Riverside’s phone system two days before the attack.”

  David took a seat next to her. “Why would he want their phone system? Is that how he’s detonating the bombs?”

  “Let’s find out.” She worked the keys, then stopped and pointed at her screen. “Look at this. He intercepted a call made from their server room.”

  “Can you get us that conversation?”

  “Of course.” A few keystrokes and the call sounded through her speakers.

  “Mainframe Supply. How may I help you?”

  She spoke up immediately. “It’s him. It’s Surreal.”

  He nodded, listened.

  “Our server had a hard drive failure. A total meltdown. How fast can you get a guy out here?” The voice of the Riverside employee did not sound happy.

  Surreal chuckled. “We’re really backlogged, my friend. You’d be better off having us send you a new server.”

  “Well, how long before I can get a guy?”

  “Two, maybe three weeks.”

  The man on the other end cussed under his breath. “We can’t be down that long.”

  “Tell you what I’m going to do,” Surreal spoke to the man like he was his best friend. “Because you’re in an awful predicament, I’ll make you an incredible offer on a new server.”

  The man cussed again. “How much?”

  Surreal quoted a price and Charis laughed. “That’s a third the price of a commercial server. They’d spend more on a technician.” The man apparently knew that as well and jumped at the offer.

  “I’ll have it overnighted to you. The sooner you install it, the sooner we can have everything back,” he paused, drew in a raspy breath, “to where it’s supposed to be.”

  David and Charis exchanged looks. Surreal gathered the necessary information, whose attention to send it to, special overnight instructions, yada yada yada. As the call ended, Surreal’s voice sounded strained. His breathing, erratic.

  It almost sounded like he was... Nah. Was he? He moaned just as he hung up.

  “The sick bastard is jacking off,” David muttered. “Unbelievable.” He shook his head to get rid of the sound of that psycho’s heaving breathing. “How’s that algorithm coming?”

  She turned to the monitor and scanned the results. “We’ve got two thousand and seven hits.”

  “How many?”

  “And counting.”

  He let out a muttered curse.

  “Oh ye of little faith. That’s only the possible targets. Once I apply my reverse algorithm to the list, the least probable targets sink to the bottom.”

  “And the most probable targets will be at the top,” he finished.

  “Exactly.”

  “Angel, you are brilliant.”

  Instead of being ecstatic, she swung around in her chair. “Okay. I’ve let it go on long enough. How did you find out my codename? And why would you hold it over me?”

  Codename? “What?”

  “Don’t play dumb. From the first day in that hospital you’ve been throwing my codename in my face. What I want to know is how you got it? Who told you?”

  “Angel is your codename?”

  She let out an exasperated sigh.

  Holy hell, he had no idea. He pinched the skin above his eyes, debating whether to tell her the real reason why he continued to call her Angel. As he opened his eyes and turned his gaze to her face, he knew he had no choice. A cross between fury and betrayal flashed in those blazing blue eyes. He brought a fist to his chest. Jesus, that hurt. “Listen, love. I didn’t know it was your codename.”

  “Hah!” She spun in her chair and tapped on her keyboard. The way she sat with her back ramrod straight, he knew she didn’t believe him.

  He’d have to tell her about the dreams.

  “I call you Angel,” he explained softly, “because of a dream. A few dreams, actually.”

  “Go on.” She stopped typing, but kept her back to him.

  Ah hell. She was going to make him give her all the details. The way the sound of her voice soothed his pain. How her touch sent jolts of electricity throughout his body. He loved the way her dark spirally curls danced around her captivating blue eyes. Loved the way she spiked her eyebrow in challenge.

  Loved her.

  Warmth enveloped him, centering in his chest. It didn’t seem like such a bad idea to tell her everything. Not a bad idea at all. “After that bullet took me down, I didn’t think I’d make it. I remember the look in Weber’s eyes. He didn’t think I’d make it, either.”

  The memory washed a shudder through him. “I couldn’t breathe. I was in such intense and constant pain. I just wanted it to end. When I was ready to give up, just so the pain would stop, an angel came to me in my dreams. I felt her touch, heard her voice. She was so real. I found the strength, endured the pain and told myself to hold on, just to see her face again, to feel her soothing touch.”

  Her posture relaxed. “I sat with you. Day and night I stayed by your side, holding your hand and talking to you. I was so scared. Scared the treatments I tried weren’t going to work. I refused to leave you, knowing when you woke up you’d want someone there.”

  She said when, not if. His heart was ready to explode. “You never doubted whether I’d make it, did you?”

  “Not for a minute,” she answered without hesitation. “The thought of you dying scared the hell out of me. Deep down I knew you were going to pull through. You had to.”

  “Why’s that?”

  She turned to him then and he sucked in a sharp breath. Tears flowed down her cheeks, yet her eyes danced. Locking her gaze with his, she answered. “Because I’d have fallen in love with a dead man. I love you, David whatever Snyder.”

  He pulled her out of her chair and cradled her head into his neck. Her tears destroyed him. “It’s okay, baby. It’s okay. We’ll get through this. Don’t cry.”

  “No,” she snapped and pushed him back. Her eyes no longer shined, they no lon
ger danced. They seemed distant. Sad. Her sudden change confused the hell out of them. “It’s not okay. Don’t you get it? It will never be okay as long as he’s out there. Surreal is blowing up buildings. He’s killing innocent people because of me. If he had even a hint of how I feel about you.” Her lower lip quivered. “He’d go after you, too. I can’t let that happen.”

  “How do you plan to stop it?” He clenched his teeth as his midsection pinched.

  “I love you, David. And because I love you—”

  “No. Don’t say it. Don’t you dare fucking say it, Charis.” He labored his breathing to control his emotions.

  “We can’t be together. As long as he’s out there, your life is in danger if you’re even around me.”

  This was bullshit. He wouldn’t let her push him away, goddamn it. They were safer together. He realized that now. “Surreal doesn’t scare me.” Very little scared him. He’d been around death and destruction for over ten years now, seen shitloads of it. But losing Charis. That scared him.

  “But he should.”

  “But he doesn’t,” he insisted. He cupped her face. “Listen to me. Pushing me away is the last thing you should be doing. It won’t save my life, and it sure as hell won’t help us find this bastard. We need to work together on this, baby. It’s the only way.”

  She blinked at him. Her tears streamed down. “What about the new SAC coming in?”

  He didn’t give a shit about taking point on this op anymore. He cared about keeping Charis safe. The way to do that was to find Surreal and stop him. “Allen can have it, but I’m not leaving your side.”

  “I don’t need you to watch over me. I can do this alone.”

  Anger gripped the edges of his control. He pulled it back with a quick count to ten. Okay, twenty. He had to make her understand. Had to. Not only was the idea of her tracking Surreal down alone inconceivable, it was in-fucking-sane.

  “I won’t let you do this alone. I have as much at stake on this op as you do. You aren’t doing me any favors by pushing me out, Angel. If anything, sending me away puts me in more danger.”

  “But what if he comes after you?”

  “I’m counting on it.”

  “But—”

  “Shh.” He brought his finger up to silence her. “I—”

  His neck hairs suddenly stood on end. Something wasn’t right.

  “What?”

  He brought his finger up as his answer and pivoted his head to change the angle of his hearing. Aside from the steady hum of her computers, nothing. He couldn’t shake the feeling that something was… off.

  Bam!

  What the fuck was that? He dove down, dragging Charis with him and positioning his body over hers. That wasn’t just a bullet. It was a fucking cannon hitting the side of the house. He pulled his weapon. If anyone other than Allen and his team paid them a visit, he’d shoot first and ask questions later. “Stay here.”

  “David?”

  He looked at her, making sure she understood it wasn’t up for negotiation. “Stay here.”

  Staying low, he moved to the back door in the kitchen. After a quick glance out the window—not that he’d be able to see a damn thing at midnight—he opened the door slowly, with as little noise as possible. He ignored the blast of cold air as it invaded the warmth of the house, nipped at his skin. He couldn’t ignore the way his body immediately shivered. Damn his shoulder. It had already started to stiffen in the cold. Switching hands for more mobility, he set out to do what he did best—find a threat and eliminate it.

  Jesus, it was freezing out here. He’d already lost the feeling in his feet as he silently moved across the frozen snow, even in shoes. The thin material of his t-shirt did nothing to protect him from the elements. It had to be in the single digits. Maybe less. Whatever. It was fucking cold. His jeans stiffened against the frigid air.

  Wonderful. As if his shoulder wouldn’t be enough of a hindrance, now his clothes had to work against him as well.

  He didn’t have a breath dissipater with him, so he only let out small breaths as he crouched around. The mist would give away his position. At least the blackness of the night worked to his advantage.

  He willed his body to stop shivering. For the most part, it worked. Every few seconds another shiver washed up his spine. His heartbeat thudded in his ears and he forced a sense of calm.

  Another noise had him spinning around, gun cocked and ready.

  There was nothing there.

  What the fuck was going on? His pulse jumped up as he deftly rounded the house. There, in the frost on the grass, a set of footprints too big to be Charis’s marked where someone had walked the perimeter. Maybe they belonged to Chris.

  Maybe not.

  He wasn’t going to take any chances. He crept around the house and peeked toward the front. The footprints disappeared into the night. Shit. He’d have to almost be on top of them to see them. The darkness swallowed up everything. No way would he step out into the open. Might as well have a glow-in-the-dark target painted on his chest.

  A twig snapped off in the woods behind the house, snagging his attention. What he wouldn’t give for a pair of NVDs right now. At least heat-seekers if he couldn’t get his hands on night vision. Kevspa would be nice, too. He was an open target out here with nothing but a .45 to ward off whatever asshole decided to pay them a visit.

  After being cooped up in the house for close to a week, he craved some kind of action. Now that he had it, knowing Charis remained inside, alone and probably freaking out, he regretted it. His shoulder ached. His lungs ached. His body was numb from the cold. Blinking over and over to force his eyes to adjust to the darkness, and still not able to see shit, he took a step out into the open to follow the footprints.

  A shot came out of the darkness. He heard the report half a second before the bullet plowed into the ground at his feet, spraying his leg with frozen shards of grass blades and dirt. Fuck! He dove for cover behind him into one of the perfectly groomed bushes.

  “David!” Charis cried out from inside the house.

  “Stay inside,” he ordered. “And stay clear of the windows.” His mind raced at what to do next. They were sitting ducks in the house. She didn’t have the firepower he needed to defend them, let alone take out whoever had them under fire.

  But she did have brothers. And they, he wagered, did.

  “Charis, call in the amigos. Tell them we’re taking fire.”

  Another shot whistled by, narrowly missing his head. He ducked down further. Shit. They were under attack. The report stayed steady at half a second. The sniper remained stationary. Good to know.

  If he could find a way to inch his way back behind the house, he just might be able to get the jump on the shooter. He didn’t have a clue how, but he refused to sit here hiding behind a bush. He slowly rose to his haunches.

  Another gunshot stopped him from going anywhere. He fell back as the bullet narrowly missed his head. It slammed against the house. Little splinters flew off the siding and nicked his cheek. He barely felt it.

  Well, shit. Now what? Either the sniper was a lousy shot or he purposely kept David alive for a reason.

  A cold, harsh realization smacked into his mind. The shooter wanted to keep him outside, away from Charis. Son of a fuck. He jumped out and then dove back behind the bush when another bullet whistled by, narrowly missing his ear.

  Eventually the shooter would get lucky and hit him, or grow tired of playing with him like a cat plays with the mouse before it kills it.

  He shuddered, blaming the cold. Think, damn it. He had to find a way to get out from behind the bush without getting shot. That would be step one. Then he’d find the bastard shooting at him. Step two. He’d get whatever information he could out of him before adding a third eye. Step three.

  One.

  Two.

  Three.

  Easy. Yeah, real damn easy. He adjusted to inch up to his haunches again, this time painfully slow. Good, no shots fired. Even slower, h
e moved toward the side of the house.

  Bam! The bullet whizzed by and slammed into the house, this time on the opposite side of his head. Again the splinters sliced into his cheek and down his neck.

  “Fuck!” He grunted and sank back down. He was going to freeze to death waiting here. And he would not just sit here, leaving Charis completely exposed. Screw it. Without a second thought, he jumped up and dove for the side of the house. The two shots fired narrowly missed him, but they did miss him.

  Step one. Check.

  Now to find the asshole shooter. He darted from bush to bush, tree to tree, his weapon at the ready. He slipped behind another tree and started to move to the next one when his neck hairs stood up.

  Oh shit. Now what?

  The distinctive click of a gun being cocked echoed into the night. That didn’t sound like a sniper rifle. No, that one was a pistol, and the shooter stood no more than fifty feet away. Glancing in all directions, he fought against the dark to try and spot the other shooter.

  “Stay low,” he heard a male state. “I’ve got him in my sights. Go around to the other side.”

  Oh please. Did they think he didn’t hear that? The asshole’s voice gave up his position. It wouldn’t take much effort to find him and his friends, and to let them know how he felt about unexpected visitors.

  He spotted movement off to his left, and then to his right. Shit. They surrounded the house. Who they were didn’t matter. They shot at him, and they moved dangerously close to Charis.

  Huge mistake, dickheads.

  Another movement to his left. Thanks to the porch light, he made out their shadows. Two on his left. One on his right.

  Just then another report of a shot rang through the air. He stiffened and waited for the bullet to slam into something, but it never did.

  “Got him.”

  Who got him? Wait… He knew that voice. He’d served with that voice.

  “I’ll collect Snyder before he shits himself.”

  Goddamn it. He knew that voice, too. Charis’s PITA of a brother. Still, David stayed hidden behind the tree, his back scraping against the rough bark. “McKoy! What the fuck is going on?”

  Chris stepped into the light of the porch. Dressed in head-to-toe black Kevspa—typical TREX field ops attire—he flashed the biggest McKoy grin. David felt like jumping him and physically removing that smile. But, then again, the man, and his friends, did just save his life.