Risking It All for Her Boss: A Heroes for Hire novel (Entangled Ignite)

by Sharron McClellan

  The director had been a top agent before she’d left the field. And her track record was perfect. She always succeeded. Was always right.

  But this wasn’t Tempe’s operation. This was hers, and her gut told her that she was the right one this time. Felix was in danger. Pauline was leverage. And if they didn’t rescue the pair, there was a good chance a bioweapon would be sold on the black market and unleashed on the world. “Maybe. But do you want to take the chance?”

  …

  It was sunrise by the time Quinn and Eva hotwired an older model Ford, drove it to the other side of the city, abandoned it, stole another car to go a few more miles, abandoned it, and then stolen a final car and parked near Lucy’s address.

  The plethora of stolen cars seemed a bit extreme, but under the circumstances, Quinn wouldn’t put it past Tempe to run them down. He’d known the director for four years, and saying that she was tenacious was an understatement.

  And then there was the police. Harris wasn’t stupid, and Quinn had to assume that by now, the detective was aware that Quinn was helping Eva. Suspicion wouldn’t merit a warrant, but it was still best to keep a low profile.

  Quinn yawned, frowned at the sun, and wished they could take time to sleep. Five more minutes. Maybe ten. But he knew there would be no rest.

  Leaving the car in a parking lot, they headed to Lucy’s small apartment complex and took refuge in a cafe across the street. It wasn’t the perfect cover, but it was probably enough. Kilburn was a thug with no finesse.

  This would be so much simpler if they could go in and take him, but even if they knew Lucy’s apartment number, Eva had already been accused of kidnapping. It was probably best not to make the accusation real.

  Besides, Nast was dead, and if Kilburn disappeared, too, it was probable that his boss, whoever that was, would notice and move Felix. Nast disappearing could be dismissed. But Kilburn?

  Definitely not.

  Quinn leaned back in his chair and kept his eye on the building across the street. He took another sip of coffee, the strong, bitter liquid jolting his senses. “Seems like old times.”

  She snorted. “The stakeout. My least favorite part of the job.”

  He chuckled. “Prefer the torture?”

  “Why would you even suggest such a thing? I’m not a sociopath,” she replied and smacked him on the arm, reminding him of the flirtation between five-year-olds.

  “I didn’t say any such thing,” he countered. “But you seemed determined to make Rick talk. I’m not sure if I should be impressed or a bit frightened.”

  She stared at her paper cup. “We all know what’s at stake. That means no pity. Especially not for jerks that call me names and try to kill me.”

  He felt the same, but wasn’t going to admit that bit of weakness to Eva—it was bad enough that he admitted it to himself. He covered a yawn with the back of his hand. “Why do you think Kilburn’s boss wants you?”

  She shrugged. “No idea. More leverage over Felix? Maybe because I saw Nast and Kilburn and lived? Holds a grudge? Take your pick.”

  “Point taken,” Quinn agreed. “I know you don’t want to bow out of this, but you do realize that Kilburn will be looking for you.”

  “It’s why I have my back to the apartments,” she said. “Besides, it sounds like he’s more interested in the cash and his new job.”

  “And you think that this boss wouldn’t give him some kind of perk if he brought you in?”

  “That doesn’t mean he’ll be peeking around every corner. If he sees me, we have trouble. But he’s not going to go door-to-door or anything like that. I’ll keep a low profile.”

  A low profile?

  Impossible.

  Quinn chuckled, thinking about how she’d looked when he’d rescued her in Colombia. Dressed in black, hair a matted mess, and sexy as hell even with though dirt was imbedded into her skin. And then there she was at the club. Dancing without inhibition, wearing the sexiest dress he’d seen in years.

  And later in bed with him. Naked. No makeup. Tender and tough and everything he wanted. “You? Stay unnoticed?” he teased.

  “Yes. Me.”

  “Like you did in Colombia when you killed a soldier and high-tailed it up the hill? And let’s not forget the burned-out barn in Alabama and the alligators in—”

  “Enough,” she snapped. “You have a small point.” She indicated an inch with thumb and forefinger. “But that’s only when pressed. And all of those were at the end of a mission when keeping a low profile no longer mattered.”

  “I’ll give you that one,” he said with a good-natured grin. She was an agent, and her ability to shine and use it to her advantage and then blend as needed was what made her great.

  And it was why she was impossible to forget, even now, when he knew it would behoove them both if he kept quiet. Instead, he heard himself say, “Do you want to talk about the other night?”

  “What about it?” she set her cup down, sloshing the hot liquid over the edge and rattling the table. That, coupled with the panic in her voice, told him what he needed to know.

  She had nothing to say. At least, nothing he wanted to hear.

  He ran a hand through his hair, feeling like an idiot. If his brother ever learned about this awkward scenario, he’d never hear the end of it. “Nothing.”

  “Good, because we covered this. I said it was a one-time thing. It meant nothing. And you agreed.”

  And there it was. The painful truth. “I did,” he said, but regretted agreeing.

  Actually, he’d been regretting a lot of things. The way he’d pushed her away. The way she’d retaliated. And the way he wanted to fix it all.

  His nature. The white knight.

  “Last year, when you told me we were over...” she fidgeted, twisting the toe of her sneaker on the concrete. “You did the right thing. What were we supposed to do? Give up our careers? Put others in jeopardy?”

  “I should have talked to you about it,” he said.

  She gave a thoughtful nod. “You should have, but the end result was the same. You did the right thing, and this morning, it was my turn.”

  Her turn to be the one walking away. It was only fair. And for the best, he told himself. What was wrong with their relationship wasn’t something that could be repaired. He should have slept on the floor.

  Idiots. Both of them.

  She stared at him, calm, and he knew she was in control of her emotions.

  When had she become the teacher?

  She didn’t blink. “What we need to talk about is how we plan to track Kilburn. Any suggestions?”

  Back to work. It was for the best. “I’ve been thinking about that. It’ll be tough. He knows you, and we don’t have backup.” He rubbed his jaw. “He might not know me. That’s our one advantage.”

  “Might,” she said. “That assumption could wreck everything.”

  “Only if I’m wrong.” He pulled the smart phone from his pocket. “If it looks like he’s going to spot me, I’ll slip this into his pocket, and we use the GPS to track him.”

  “With what?”

  “Burner phone. A bit of a low-tech LoJack.”

  “What if he finds it and tosses it?”

  “Unless you want to go to HRS and ask if they’ll offer up a decent tracking device, this is all we have.”

  “Weak.”

  “I know.” But they were out of options. And time. Movement across the street caught his eye. A photo-familiar blond man emerged from the building, letting the door slam behind him. Quinn tossed a few bills on the table. “He’s walking.”

  “Let’s go.”

  “Wait.” He held her back, letting Kilburn get a bit of a lead. “Now.”

  The left the café and followed their target. He kept himself between Kilburn and Eva. Dressed in jeans and jacket, Kilburn carried a large gym bag over his shoulder. Was he on his way to the next job or heading for a workout?

  A few blocks later, the tall blond entered the L’enfant Plaza e
ntrance of the D.C. Metro.

  Quinn and Eva dodged traffic as they hurried across the street and down the steps. The platform was crowded with people headed to work, but it didn’t take long to find their mark.

  A train headed toward Smithsonian and all-points-south pulled in, and Kilburn entered the first car. Quinn and Eva ducked into the one next door. If Kilburn were going to Arlington, this was the right train, but there was more than one Arlington exit.

  He knew what he had to do if he didn’t want to lose their quarry. “Next stop, I’ll move to Kilburn’s car,” he said, his voice low. “You stay here.”

  Her frown told him that she wasn’t pleased with the decision, but after a few seconds, she gave a nod of agreement. The train entered the next station, and once again, the doors slid open, and people hurried out. “Try not to be seen,” she said.

  If he didn’t know her better, he’d think she was worried for him.

  “I’m not new,” he teased and merged into the flow of people. Pushing against the current, worked his way to the next car.

  Filled with people heading to work, the car was standing room only. Quinn spotted the tall, blond man inside, bag slung over his shoulder as he peered at his phone, oblivious to what was going on around him. His overworked, probably steroid-enhanced physique, told Quinn that their target was the kind of man that thought power and muscle was all he needed.

  Perfect. Big and dumb. Just how he liked them.

  Standing behind Kilburn, he waited for the train to start and in conjunction with the sharp tug of acceleration, slipped the phone into a side pocket of the gym bag.

  They were on.

  Now, all they had to do was not lose their quarry.

  …

  Crystal City Station.

  Eva pressed her face to the window, searching for either Quinn or Kilburn.

  Had she missed them? She hoped not, because if she had, there was no way to tell where they’d gotten off.

  Dammit, she and Quinn should have stayed together. But what would that have accomplished?

  The train pulled into the airport station. Then Braddock.

  They were running out of line.

  King Street Station.

  Nothing. Just crowds.

  And she saw Kilburn with Quinn on his heels, his attention on the man in front of him.

  Please move away from the doors, an automated voice insisted. The train is leaving the station.

  She shoved her arm into the gap before it could close. A buzzing sounded and around her, other passengers gave a collective groan.

  “Sorry,” she said, trying to force the door open. The metal relented, and she slipped through the gap.

  Quinn and Kilburn were nowhere in sight.

  She raced for the stairs, taking two at a time.

  She reached the bottom and found buildings, buses, and cabs. But no Quinn. And no Kilburn. “What the hell?” After everything they’d endured together, he’d abandoned her.

  How could she have been so stupid as to trust him?

  A hand gripped her shoulder from behind. She dropped low, pivoted, and stopped short of punching Quinn in the sternum.

  He hadn’t left her behind. White knight complex, she reminded herself, feeling foolish that she’d even considered him capable of abandoning her.

  “Are you insane? Kilburn’s going to see you.” He almost growled the words as he yanked her into behind a pillar, shielding her with his back.

  “I thought you left me.”

  “As you can see, I didn’t.”

  She gaped at him. Somehow, whenever she expected the worst, he did the right thing. It was unnerving and annoying, and she wished he’d just act like a jerk. If he did, this would all be a lot easier.

  “Do you want to make a big deal about his?” he asked.

  She hesitated, then shook her head. There were bigger things at stake. Like their last link to Felix. And she needed to keep her eye on the prize—not the past. “Where’s Kilburn?”

  “Getting a cab.”

  “Then why are we standing here yapping? He’s getting away.”

  Quinn held up a burner phone and waved it. “No, he’s not.”

  “You did it?”

  “Of course.”

  Chapter Twelve

  “You can pull over here,” Quinn said after thirty frustrating minutes of Eisenhower Avenue in a cab.

  The vehicle stopped in front of an office complex. Townhomes, in varying shades of beige, lined the side streets, surrounding the office buildings.

  “Let’s take a casual recon,” Quinn said. The phone in his palm, they strode down the sidewalk with the unhurried pace of two people who were in no rush to return to work.

  He slowed at the entrance to the complex. “That’s the place.” He nodded toward a gray building on the other side of the entrance.

  “Are you sure?” she asked. Eight stories, each floor was a wall of windows. From their vantage, she spotted the tops of cubicles and banks of fluorescent lighting. “It looks more like a law firm.”

  “Positive.” He showed her the phone screen and on it, a map with a blinking red dot indicated the location of the planted phone’s GPS. “There’s the signal.”

  Right across from them. “Okay. So where is it?” The app was good, but it could only show so much spatial information.

  “Basement is my guess.”

  “It always is,” she said, sounding exasperated. “How are we going to get inside? The front door?”

  “Let’s not go there yet,” he replied. “No sense in announcing ourselves unless we have to.” They circled the block until they were at the backside of the structure.

  He slowed again. “There.”

  Eva spotted the backend of a paneled van protruding from the lot behind the building. The sign said “Pure Cleaning Service” is bold, blue letters. “Don’t you think that’s both obvious and cliché?”

  “Of course. But who makes eye contact with the cleaning crew?”

  He had a point. To many people, janitors were like the fixtures in an office—useful when needed but otherwise, ignorable.

  He continued, “Besides, it’s not like we have time or backup.”

  “Can’t argue with that,” she said. “Do you want to wait until tonight?”

  “No. It isn’t a matter of if Kilburn finds the phone, it’s when. And when he does, he’ll know he’s being tracked and the ‘by whom’ won’t matter.”

  “Can’t take the chance they’ll move Felix and Pauline,” she finished.

  “Any thoughts on those?” He followed her gaze to a blackhalf dome above the entrance to the building.

  A security camera.

  Stepping out of view, he pulled out his phone, pushed three numbers and they waited. Seconds later, he put the phone on speaker, and she caught the last few words of the person on the other end of the line. What’s your emergency?

  “I’d like to report a bomb at 2245 Larkspur Lane. The Fossae building.”

  There was a brief hesitation on the other side. “Have you seen the bomb, sir?”

  “I set it,” he said and broke the connection.

  “Are you insane?” she snapped. “You’re bringing them here?”

  “Not here.” He point to the building down the street. “There. That should attract enough attention to give us a chance at getting inside.”

  It was human nature to watch a bad scenario unfold, and this would be spectacular, she was sure. Still, was it enough? One could only assume that the people who took Felix were professionals. “What if they don’t fall for it?”

  “Then this will be harder than we thought,” he said.

  Risky as hell, but there wasn’t a lot of choice, and they were running out of options. “We could always call Tempe,” she suggested.

  “She doesn’t believe you. By the time she arrived, Felix would be gone. And who knows what they might do to Pauline.”

  Her words thrown back at her. “Touché.” Sirens sounded in the distance,
growing closer, and in what seemed like seconds, three police cars, a fire truck, and a large black van squealed into the parking lot across the street.

  “Give it a moment,” he said.

  They watched as men piled out of the vehicles—the ones in the van dressed in black and Kevlar, and she assumed they were the bomb squad.

  “We’re on,” he said. Hugging the side of the building, they headed toward the cleaning crew’s truck.

  …

  Quinn had known it was a mistake to partner with Eva. But he had also known that if he hadn’t, she’d do this anyway and possibly, no probably, put herself in danger in the process.

  Or at least that’s what he kept telling himself. It wasn’t because the thought of her, alone, with no backup, brought him to the edge of panic. It wasn’t because he liked working with her and appreciated her street smarts and fearlessness. And it sure as hell wasn’t because having her close to him, where he was rewarded with the touch of her skin or one of her rare smiles, made him realize that a part of him thought he was an idiot for giving her up.

  It was none of those.

  Okay, maybe it was her street smarts, he mused as he watched her hop inside the janitor’s truck with the grace of a feline. He followed, and working as fast as they dared and with only the setting sun for light, they ransacked bins and drawers, searching for the uniforms that would gain them entry to the building.

  “For you,” Eva said in a stage whisper. A pair of black pants sailed through the air. He snapped them out of the air and held them up. A bit large, but who would care.

  A shirt hit him in the face. It smelled like bleach.

  She snickered.

  “You’re such a child,” he said, laughter reflected in his voice.

  Quickly, they stripped. He tried to keep his eyes to the ground but found himself sneaking glances. The muscle and curves that defined her body were sharpened by the combination of shadow and light that managed to penetrate the back of the vehicle.

  As beautiful as when he first met her. Or more so. She’d entered his life with false bravado hiding her fear and insecurity. A month or two later, her bravado had been anything but fake. He could remember the exact moment she’d found her true inner strength. They’d been practicing hand-to-hand combat, and somewhere in the lesson, he found himself slammed to the mat, stomach first, with her straddling him.