At Any Cost

by Allie K. Adams

  Just in time. He heard the whistle of the bullet, watched as it sheared pieces of marble off the pillar right where his head was only moments before.

  Shit. So much for sneaking in undetected. He rolled and belly-crawled over to what he guessed to be the cellar entrance. It was a little late to remain silent. Someone knew their position before they even got there.

  Goddamn you, Donovan .

  "I'm going in," he said softly.

  No answer. Jesus, please don't let Snyder be dead. Not only did Dan still need him on this mission, but he actually liked the guy. Hell, he even trusted him. And that said a lot.

  Dan climbed down the steep stairs into the cellar. The walls were lined with bottles of dusty wine and nothing else. Off to one side, one wine rack looked freshly emptied. Clean spots where bottles had recently rested were now visible. There was a set of stairs across the room leading to a door. He headed in that direction.

  He had no idea what to expect on the other side of the door. With a deep breath to be on the ready, he started the short climb to the top. Leaning against the door, he listened.

  Silence. Good. He tried the door. It opened. Slowly, he opened the door and waited. Nothing. He opened it the rest of the way and peaked out.

  The door opened into the kitchen. The scent of strong coffee wafted through the air. Dan's mouth watered. He hadn't eaten since—he couldn't remember the last time he ate. Then he growled inwardly for worrying about something so trivial when he had bigger problems.

  Like how in the hell was he going to pull this off without any form of backup? He scanned the kitchen for anything out of place before moving to the swinging door. He listened.

  Nothing. Moving through, he kept his eyes on constant scan, searching his surrounding for anything out of place. Anything out of the ordinary. But found nothing.

  Another oddity. Where were the guards? The alarms? Mercado? Someone? Anyone? He stood perfectly still and listened. Not a single noise.

  It was like no one was home.

  He took another step. A slight shuffling noise behind him caught his attention. He slowed, stiffened. In a flash, he spun and pulled his weapons.

  Nothing.

  The feeling of someone watching him kept a grip on his nerves. He wasn't alone in the room.

  "Get out of the house!" Snyder's voice jolted him, screaming in his ear, cutting through the silence. His anxious, hurried tone sent Dan into motion. He ran back toward the cellar, stopped when he heard footsteps on the stairs. "Goddamn it! Weber! Get out! It's a tr—"

  The transmission ended abruptly. Oh Jesus. Just then the door burst open and men started pouring into the room, screaming at him in Spanish. Dan fired and took out the first layer of men. He couldn't get another shot off before they were on top of him, knocking him to the floor.

  With strength he didn't know he had, he threw them off his back as he fought to stand. He almost made it.

  The fists came from every direction, thrashing and pounding his body. He swung and connected, over and over. But it wasn't enough.

  He went down. Heavy boots kicked at his sides. The air whistled out of his lungs. His ribs cracked from the force of the blows. The pain nearly blinded him. One of them brought their boot down on his leg, snapping his knee. Dan hollered in pain. He caught the fist out of the corner of his eye as it slammed against his temple.

  "JT," he muttered through swelling lips. He had to stay awake. He had to find her.

  He had to...

  He had...

  He...

  Chapter 22

  JT couldn't breathe. She couldn't see. Where was she and why was it so dark? There was something on her face. She tried to lift her hands to remove the dark cover only to discover they were tied to her feet.

  She was so screwed. Peck had seen her. She didn't have the earrings. Without the earrings, Dan had no way to track her, no way to find her. Without Dan, she had no back up. And that brought her back to being screwed.

  Peck no doubt filled Mercado in on JT's true identity and how she was sent to assassinate him. Worse yet, Mercado now had LEON .

  Something skittered across her legs. Oh God. Not rodents. She hated rodents. Especially when she couldn't see them. And it smelled dirty. And greasy. She struggled, pushed herself upright against a wall. Working her head against the wall, she slid the cover off her face. With a deep breath to fill her lungs with fresh air, she looked around.

  From what she could see, she didn't recognize her surroundings. It was an underground railway cave of some kind, like a subway. There was a hint of a light at the end of the tracks to her right, just enough for her to see the shadows around her. The walls were rock, as well as the ceiling. There were railway tracks disappearing into the black abyss to her left, and fading into nothing to her right. Directly above her, a flashlight tied to a ladder fastened into the rock.

  Nice try. Mercado wanted her to take the easy out. And he'd be on the other side waiting for her. Then he'd kill her. Not today.

  She worked her hands until her wrists were raw and bleeding, but she got them loose. After untying her feet, she stood and looked around for another escape route. Chances are if a ladder existed here, then there would be another one down the tracks.

  Either way looked dark and daunting. "No time like the present." She grabbed the flashlight off the ladder and tried the switch. Of course. It didn't work. JT muttered one of Dan's favorite curses and almost threw it, but stopped.

  She shook the light. It felt way too light. Why would Mercado leave her a flashlight and not the batteries? She unscrewed the top and peeked in. There was something near the bottom, but she couldn't get her fingers inside to retrieve it.

  Turning the canister upside down, JT gave it a good shake. A folded up piece of paper fell out. She knelt down, grabbed it and unfolded it.

  One end is your path to freedom, the other your demise. I suggest you choose carefully, Miss Turner. Hollywood isn't there to save you this time.

  Peck. She really hated that man. She read the note over and over, trying to decipher what it meant. One end is the path to freedom. She looked in either direction. They had to lead somewhere. Why else would there be tracks?

  She brought her gaze back to the ladder. The other would be her demise. Where did that ladder go? Would Peck be there waiting for her? Something told her he wouldn't. He came down here to deal with Mercado, not play games with NASSD.

  Or would he?

  Of course he would!

  JT almost swallowed her tongue at the realization. The whole thing had to be a set up. Could Peck hate Dan so much he'd go to such elaborate lengths to draw him back into the organization? Only one thing would pull Dan back, he said so himself.

  LEON .

  JT yelled out a very unladylike curse. There was only one person who had the power to bring Dan back into NASSD. Only one man who could possibly have pulled something like this off. He sent Dan down to Colombia, away from any of his connections. Relying on nothing more than a screw up. A rookie. Away from any backup. And away from any chance of Dan telling NASSD the mole's identity.

  Donovan.

  Who better to run the mission to uncover the mole than the mole himself? He knew Dan would go down to Colombia alone. He also knew JT was hungry to prove herself. Dan would come to the aid of the rookie agent, go with her to cover her ass. Again and again.

  It was all her fault. Dan was down here because of her. If she wouldn't have accepted that assignment from Peck; if only she used her brain before bursting in with no holds barred; if only she stopped and thought about the mission for one nano-second, she would have been able to see all of the connections. If only.

  A faint whistle broke her thoughts. What was that? It sounded again, this time a bit louder. And then she saw the light.

  A train.

  JT grabbed the bottom bar of the metal ladder and pulled herself up. One by one. Faster, faster. The train's whistle screeched through the tunnel as it approached, the echo deafening. The light gr
ew brighter and brighter.

  She could see it. She could also see she wasn't going to clear the top of the train unless she moved faster. Another screech of the whistle. Her arms and legs burned. She reached the top and pulled with all her strength to get the rest of her body up.

  The train whooshed by, the top only inches from the bottom of her bare feet. JT closed her eyes and said a silent prayer. At least she knew which choice would have been her demise.

  That left the ladder as her only option. Turning the handle, she pushed the heavy door up and stepped out of the tunnel.

  "It is about time, Miss Jessica." JT whirled around. Mercado stood there leaning on his cane, his gold pocket watch out. He studied it and then snapped it closed. "You disappoint me. A NASSD agent such as yourself should have taken no longer than fifteen minutes."

  "Life's full of disappointments," she countered acidly, trying to ignore her heart hammering in her chest. She didn't want to be scared. A NASSD agent faced fear every day. It was their job. This was what she'd been trained for. Agent up, Turner.

  Now she understood how one path led to her freedom. She could have been sliced in half by the train. That would have at least killed her quickly, freeing her from whatever Hell he had planned. She had a sneaking suspicion what Mercado had in mind wouldn't nearly be over as fast.

  "I truly am saddened I have not had the opportunity to pleasure you, bonita. That, of course, will change."

  "Come near me and I'll kill you with my bare hands."

  His wicked smile made the black in his eyes shimmer. "I so love the passion in you. Come, we are late."

  "I'm not going anywhere with you."

  He didn't even have a gun, at least not that she could see. The man had balls, but no brain. She mentally listed off all the different ways she should kill him, and trying to decide which one would be the most unpleasant.

  "If you wish to see Agent Weber again, you will follow me."

  "I don't know who you are talking about." Please, God. Let Dan be somewhere safe. Don't let him die because of me.

  Mercado wore a bemused smirk. "Allow me to remind you. You came to Colombia together to kill me, did you not? Unfortunately for the both of you, I still live. I do not appreciate you arrogant Americans thinking you can come into my country in an attempt to spread your disease."

  "Sorry, Santos. Never heard of him." Maybe, just maybe if she could convince him she came alone to Colombia, he'd leave Dan alone. Sure. And maybe she'd sprout wings and fly away.

  "Then perhaps I should remind you on more of a personal level. He is your lover. You allow him to touch you, to love you as I soon will. For you, Miss Jessica, are my prize."

  "For what?"

  "Mr. Peck wants Agent Weber. He doesn't want you. I, however, do." His lip curled and he licked his lips. "And I shall truly enjoy having you."

  "I don't think so." JT decided a kick to the throat would drop him. She'd then crush his windpipe with her knee. Not as painful and drawn-out as she would have liked, but it would at least accomplish her task.

  She took a step toward him. Mercado snapped his fingers and men sprouted out from the shadows. Of course they did. He wouldn't go anywhere without his groupies. God forbid he actually face JT one on one.

  There were only five of them. She could still take them all. Okay six. Now seven. Her heart started to sink to the depths of her stomach. Ten. Eleven. And they just kept multiplying.

  Okay, she got it. Knowing she couldn't take on an entire army, she conceded. "After you."

  * * * *

  Dan felt like he'd been run through a meat grinder. Every fiber of his very being hurt. It even hurt to breathe. He regained consciousness as two guards dragged his broken body down a long metal hall. He remained still so not to alarm them until he sprang into action.

  If he could still spring.

  His right eye had swelled completely shut again and he could only see through his left eye by a sliver. He wiggled his toes inside his boots and nearly lost consciousness again. Did they have to blow out his knee? Judging by the fact the other one hurt even worse, he could tell it wasn't broken. Swell. Now how was he going to find JT and get them the hell out of here? Hop?

  He still had use of his arms. He moved his fingers slightly. Whoa. That hurt, but neither arm seemed broken, just brutally beaten. It was safe to say Dan had been FUBARed, big time.

  What kind of men would beat a man unconscious and if that wasn't satisfactory, keep going after he'd passed out? Dan remembered big men, small men, fat men, skinny men. Mercado didn't show any prejudice when it came to his hired muscles.

  Where did they come from? What about Snyder? Did they beat him unconscious as well? Or worse? Which led Dan to another question plaguing his thoughts. Why didn't they just kill him? Why draw it out?

  His answer came then. The guards dropped Dan's limp body at the feet of Jason Peck. "A gift from Mr. Mercado," one of the guards said in Spanish.

  Peck kicked Dan in the ribs. Hard. The air whooshed out of Dan's lungs and he coughed up blood as he doubled up. The excruciating pain as Peck's boot connected with Dan's broken ribs almost blinded him, but not as much as his rage.

  "Get up."

  Dan would love to, but with a useless leg, and the fact he could barely breathe after the bastard kicked him, that would prove some difficulty. "Go to Hell, you traitorous bastard."

  "Aw. Is that any way to talk to a member of your team? A fellow NASSD agent?"

  Dan lifted his head to peer up at Peck with his one good eye. "Ex-NASSD."

  "See, that's where you'd be wrong. I've been working with HQ to get back into the good graces of NASSD. I find that I can do so much more from the inside."

  Dan muttered a curse through his swollen lips. "You really are insane. They'd never let you back in."

  "Wrong again," Peck sang.

  Dan's blood stilled. He widened his left eye to focus on the figure as it hobbled into the room. "I should have killed you when I had the chance."

  "I'm sorry about this, Weber. I truly am."

  "No, you're not."

  Donovan limped over and stood next to Peck. "You said you'd make it quick. You promised he wouldn't suffer."

  Peck shrugged. "I lied."

  "Damn you, Peck. You gave me your word. First the scientist and his assistant, then your team. Now Weber? When will it be enough?"

  "Don't you get it, Donovan?" Dan broke in. "The man's word is shit. What did he promise you that could possibly be worth betraying your country like this?"

  "I have my reasons."

  "About five million of them," Peck added.

  Dan grunted. "Money? That's what this all boils down to?"

  "It's my retirement. And it doesn't stop with this payoff. With Peck's connections on the outside, and my connections on the inside, we'll be able to play both sides of the field."

  "You're willing to risk WWIII for a few bucks?"

  "No," Donovan replied quickly, as if whatever he had to say would make a shit bit of difference. "We sell the weapons and gadgets off, and then send NASSD in to stop them before they can use them. We aren't really doing anything wrong. We're just cashing in on some of the profit before we shut them down."

  Dan rested a lethal glare on what used to be a man. "Whatever helps you sleep at night. You're a traitor, bottom line. You betrayed your country. You betrayed your friends. You betrayed yourself."

  "After everything I've been through, it's the least NASSD could do for me."

  "For you? You're the head of the entire western region. What more do you want?"

  He hobbled over to Dan, leaned down with the help of his cane. "Payback, my friend. I gave twenty years of my life to this agency. I was willing to use my own body to prove LEON 's success. And how do they repay me? I get assigned to a damn desk. Do you have any idea how useless I felt?"

  "I'm getting a pretty good idea of how useless you are now." Dan spat on the floor at Donovan's feet.

  Peck nodded and the two men who dragg
ed Dan to Peck lifted him up into a chair. They then cuffed his hands behind him. He winced as the pain shot through his body. Peck knelt down in front of him. "Here's the kicker. Donovan here actually contacted me. You want to know how?"

  "Raven."

  "Very good. Raven is a hitter, did you know that? Hired to take out an agent who'd gotten too close." He narrowed his eyes. "You remember that day, don't you Hollywood? Tell me, how did it feel to have your heart ripped apart emotionally, physically, and mentally all at the same time? And to witness the woman you love kill your partner like that."

  Peck paused, smiling. When Dan blinked, Peck's smile grew. "Wow. You did love her, didn't you? You sorry son-of-a-bitch. I'll admit she can be quite mesmerizing. But for the great Dan Weber to fall? Must have been tough."

  "Fuck you."

  Peck laughed and straightened up. "You probably think I'm a monster, don't you?"

  "The thought had crossed my mind."

  "I'm no monster. And I'm no different than you. I'm simply an agent following orders."

  Dan turned his lethal glare on Donovan, who straightened and took an unsteady step back in response, catching himself with his cane. "You ordered the hit on me? Didn't have the balls to do it yourself?"

  Donovan lowered his eyes in shame. "I brought Raven onboard right after they shut down LEON . I knew if you caught wind of the new lab, you'd have it all figured out. Despite what you think, I really didn't want you involved in any of this."

  "Bullshit," Dan retorted as he lifted his head. "You wouldn't have called me back if that were true."

  He started to work the locks of the cuffs and winced when he shifted to gain better access. Any slight movement sent shockwaves of pain through his body. He fought against the urge to allow the peaceful blackness to consume him. He'd live from the beating, but he'd have to remain awake to ensure that remained the case. Discovering the man he'd trusted with his life wanted it ended electrified his emotions on top of it all.