Cara could hear Parker talking to the attacker behind her. They argued back and forth, sometimes in English and sometimes in what she suspected was Russian. The man stumbled but Parker dragged him along.
When she got to the door to the building, she stopped. Everything inside her froze. She could have sworn she heard the air whistle out of her lungs. She opened her mouth to say something but couldn’t get a syllable past her dry throat.
Reid’s hand tightened around her shoulders. “I’m sorry.”
But her mind couldn’t process the scene. Cliff’s perfect posture had abandoned him. He sat hunched over in the chair, leaning so far forward it looked like only the ropes binding him kept him from hitting the floor face first.
From her angle, his bowed head showed signs of bruising. Cuts with caked and fresh blood. She couldn’t see much else, but recognized the lack of movement. No noise and dead stillness. No signs of life.
“Cliff.” She wasn’t even sure if she said his name out loud or if it played in her head.
She stepped into the open room. The smell of death hung in the air, new and old. The building almost groaned from the weight of its horrid history. Every scarred wall had deep holes, as if someone had tried to knock the place down but failed.
Ripped floorboards provided a peek at the dirt beneath. Other than a few chairs and a desk or two, there was nothing in the building. A makeshift light the attackers had set up. Chipped and cracked columns holding up a crumbling roof. A few boarded-up windows and lights hanging from above, but dark and missing bulbs.
With slow steps, never leaving Reid’s side, she drew closer to the man who had believed in her. A mentor who choose her for this assignment. Never played games. Having lived through so much discrimination, he’d aimed for an open workplace and didn’t care if a member of his team was male or female. He’d given her a chance, and now this was his end. He deserved better. Much better.
As she watched, Reid cut the bindings holding Cliff upright. Lowered him, making sure to cradle his head as it touched the floor. His actions reflected the respect and reverence she’d seen from him before. Seen and loved.
But her fury festered. Breath hiccupped in her throat. She had to choke down the mix of anger and sadness balling in her chest. Up close, she could see the damage. One side of Cliff’s face bore the evidence of a beating. The other showed the gunshot wound. The gaping hole.
Her balance wavered. She had to bite back the bile rising inside her. She heaved but refused to throw up. She would not let the attacker see her weak and vulnerable.
The pain fueled her. She spun around to face him. “You did this.”
He didn’t say anything as he continued to lean against the nearest column with Parker right at his side. Gun ready.
She closed in on the man. Watched him back up a step. Good, he should be afraid of her. She held her hand out to Reid. “Give me the gun.”
Parker’s eyebrow lifted but he didn’t say anything.
Rather than hand it over, Reid stepped up beside her. “Where is the rest of her team?”
The man shook his head. Said something she couldn’t understand.
“You already showed us that you speak English.” Reid took a half step, putting his body just in front of hers. “Unfortunately for you, I know Russian. Talk.”
The man jerked out of Parker’s hold and lunged at her. Parker attempted to grab him but when the man got within a foot of Cara and the knife blade in his hand flashed, Reid fired. The shot filled the room as the big man’s body dropped. No stumbling and no last words. He went down in a giant whoosh. Crumpled right in front of her.
The combination of death after death played in her head. Then the reality hit her. She grabbed Reid’s arm. “What did you do? We needed him.”
Reid didn’t even spare her a glance as he dropped down to check to see if the man was still breathing and then searched him. “He was going to stab you, and no one touches you.”
“Then you aim for his leg. Right?” She’d seen the move on television shows a million times. Injure the guy and threaten him until he talked.
“That’s a bad plan.”
She heard Parker’s voice and looked up to see him staring at her. “Why?”
“When a guy like that attacks, you aim to kill.” Parker exhaled. “It’s too dangerous to do it any other way. Too Hollywood.”
That from the guy who believed in the unbelievable. “But . . . we have nothing. No information to go on now.” She wiped a hand down her face. Tried to regain her composure. “I don’t—”
“Where’s the other one . . . this Simon guy?” Reid stood up, putting his body between hers and Parker’s and pointing to an empty spot on the floor. “He was right here.”
Her brain stuttered. She’d forgotten all about him. About the rest of the team. She hated that she could block the human toll from time to time. The thought that she’d become so detached made her feel sick all over again.
So much had happened in such a short time, she couldn’t even catalog and assess it all. For the second time in her life chaos reigned. She’d grown up in a household where very little danger happened. Her parents had scrambled for cash and chased their dreams. Her father would sing for money on the street.
They’d gifted her with a life full of music and art, and all she’d wanted was to break free of the uncertainty of limited paychecks and the aching of not belonging, or not being like everyone she lived with. Free-spirited parents who were disappointed that their daughter had chosen something as stereotypical as science. Who even now questioned her every choice and tried to sideline her career, until she’d had to build an emotional wall between them and her when it came to her professional life.
She’d spent so much of her life making excuses for them, silently resenting them . . . aching for her mom to be just a little bit like the stereotype people had about Asian mothers. Just once. Just for a little while.
But as she stood on the edge of death for the second time before reaching thirty, Cara missed them and who they were. Wondered if a simpler life would have taken her away from all of this. Wondered if maybe their mutual inability to understand each other had stolen something important from her.
For someone who craved the stability of a steady job—and she did—she kept landing in unstable situations. She wasn’t an adrenaline junky or danger-seeker, but some part of her seemed to search out this life. No part of her feared Reid or questioned the life he led, even though being around him meant wallowing in danger. She didn’t know what that said about her.
“I thought Simon was dead,” she said, putting words to a thought her brain refused to accept.
Parker scoffed. “Apparently not.”
“They’re looking for something, Cara. They may be keeping Simon alive just long enough to get information.” Reid’s intense stare didn’t ease. “Which means your time is up. As soon as we clean this place up, we need the whole story.”
“Fine.” She didn’t see the need to disagree. They’d walked into a bloodbath. Right or wrong, the Alliance specialized in this sort of thing. She might not trust Reid with her heart, but she trusted him with her safety.
“The jammer is one building over.” Parker reloaded his gun as he talked.
“Let’s go.” Reid didn’t wait for his friend to finish.
With his hand on the small of Cara’s back, they started moving. Careful steps took them out of the building and around the rest of the bodies. They reached the end of the main structure and glanced up at the black metal staircase that wound its way to the top floor.
“Already checked there,” Parker said as he stepped up and took the lead.
They headed for the next building and didn’t stop until they got to the far end. There, on the ground, sat a black box. Wires connected it to two antennas. Except for those, the whole thing looked small enough to carry around. There was even a cart resting nearby.
“It should be bigger.” The idea made sense to Cara. Something that me
ssed up their cell phones and Reid’s fancy tracking system and whatever else should at least take a truck to move.
“That’s the kind of nightmare line a man never wants to hear from a woman.” Parker dropped to one knee and opened the lid. There were switches and dials and he seemed to know what to touch.
Still, she didn’t fully appreciate the joking. Not now. “People are dead.”
“It’s his warped way of dealing with the situation,” Reid said.
The trucks, the men. All of the evidence stacked together in her head. She was a person who dealt in details and facts. Things she could test and analyze. The Alliance did the same, in a way. Which made her wonder how this happened. “Don’t your people look for things like this? Movement where there shouldn’t be movement?” She pointed at the antennas. “Those.”
“Something this size would be hard to pick up via satellite image, and they—whoever they are—would have to be looking for trouble right here at the exact right time to discover the problem.” When she started to argue, Reid nodded. “But you’re not wrong. Having a communications blackout area should raise some flags.”
Parker stood up and wiped his hands on the front of his pants. “Tasha could be trying to reach us right now.”
“Which is why you’re going to dismantle this thing.” Reid snapped into leader mode. Fatigue pulled around his mouth but he no longer spoke in clipped, angry sentences. “Then we need photographs of the dead and a safe place to put Cliff until our people can come and get him. I don’t want anyone using his body as a political statement or as an excuse to start a war.”
Parker’s eyes narrowed. “Sounds like I got the shitty end of the to-do list again.”
“We also need to collect the guns and ammo, so we’re stocked.” With that, Reid put the one he was holding in the holster by his side.
“And what are you going to be doing while I race around and play fetch and take photos?”
“Calling Tasha and getting an alternate place to hide out.” Reid winced as he unzipped his thin jacket and peeled up the bottom of his shirt. “And letting Cara handle this.”
Parker paled. “Oh, shit.”
More blood. Red everywhere. Cara blinked, hoping the frightening image would disappear. But it didn’t. Reid covered the wound with his hands, but the blood just seeped through his fingers.
“You were shot?” She knew it was a ridiculous question. She could see the evidence, not a direct hit to his stomach but a hole right off to the side.
“Again,” Parker said. “I think this is the second time.”
“On this mission.” Reid shrugged. “I’ve had worse.”
Parker moved closer to Reid. Took a packet out of the utility pocket of his pants and ripped it open. “No one tagged me. You losing your touch?”
Reid hissed when Parker touched the bandage to his open wound. “You’re too busy playing it safe, hiding behind buildings and stuff.”
Part of her understood Parker wanted to take Reid’s mind off the pain. She got that. She just knew they needed to do some pretty serious first aid if they had any chance of getting Reid out of there on his own. She didn’t have a medical degree but she knew enough. Knew he needed a doctor.
First she had to make sure he stayed stable. “Enough boy talk. You need to sit down and—”
“We’re heading out.” Reid held out a hand. Parker passed him a needle and Reid administered his own shot. “I want to be away from this area before I scramble a call to Tasha.”
Before Cara could stop the back and forth, they were tending to the wound. Acting as if it was no big deal or like Reid was made of some sort of unbreakable metal. Not human. Immune to things like shock and death.
His nonchalance made her want to strangle him. “Have you lost your mind?”
Parker frowned. “Fair question, but we are trained for on-the-ground triage. Once you get the bullet out you can either sew him up or use some of the magic powder we bring along to seal wounds.”
Reid pressed his hand against the edge of the bandage. “The person in charge of the men we ran into here could be watching. Certainly will come back.”
“Besides,” Parker put the pouch back in his pocket, “this will go faster if I don’t have to worry about Reid fainting.”
“Not happening.” Reid added a bit of name-calling before flipping back into leader mode. “I’ll get coordinates for a safe place then send them to Parker, who will be right behind us.”
She listened to the arguments and comments. Every one sounded so reasonable, as if they’d acted out this routine a million times. They had her thinking she’d blown his injuries out of proportion . . . until she remembered they were not normal. “This new safe house, or whatever it is, better be close because I can’t carry you.”
Reid shrugged and then winced. “I’m fine.”
“Yeah, you seem great.” The idiot.
“Not after Tasha gets done with you. ‘How did you get into Russia?’” Parker’s voice changed as he mimicked a higher tone. “I can almost hear her now.”
“I remember Tasha. Tough, in charge.” That gave Cara comfort. These two needed an ass-kicking. She was happy to start it, but she savored the idea of turning them over to Tasha for a second round.
“Remind you of anyone?” Parker asked.
Reid cleared his throat. “I’m still bleeding here.”
And limping, and walking half bent over. Cara saw it all now. Tried to ignore it and keep her voice steady. Letting him know how concerned she was about him wouldn’t make the next few minutes run any smoother. “Just so long as it’s not another labor camp.”
“Knowing Tasha, it won’t be anywhere near that nice.” Reid wrapped an arm around his midsection. “Let’s grab the bags and go. The time for finding temporary cover is running out.”
9
TASHA SAT on one of the sleek gray modern couches strategically placed at odd angles in the middle of the Bastion Foundation’s waiting room. At least that’s what she thought it was. With its three-story soaring ceilings and spare monochrome décor inside, the scaling glass building shouted overpriced and trying-too-hard to her.
She sat on the second floor and squirreled away from the steady stream of visitors and deliveries coming through lobby doors downstairs. Out of the way and cold, like something a serial killer might find soothing.
When her cell beeped for a third time, she read the message and sent off a four-word response. The first emergency call provided the location she needed. The second requested supplies and backup. The third confirmed the coordinates she provided. Not bad for three minutes’ worth of covert communication bounced back and forth through a series of proxy servers and pinged from one side of the world to the other.
Caleb glanced at her arm as she dropped it and pocketed the cell. “What was that?”
Tasha skipped right to the information she knew he wanted to know. “Your sister is fine.”
That counted as an overstatement. Still, Tasha delivered the line with confidence, just as she’d been trained to do. Just as she’d done in numerous cases over the years. Reassure the loved ones so they stayed quiet and out of the way. Limited the potential liability.
“How do you know that?”
“A message from Reid.” Telling Caleb his sister had gotten trapped in some sort of informal turf war—or worse—would not calm him down. He had the resources to get to Russia and get in Reid’s way. Add in Caleb’s hacking skills and whatever underground network fed him information and he could make himself a target without knowing it. Pulling out another Layne sibling was the last damn thing she needed.
“Ask him—”
“The message was coded and short, which means Reid is worried about communication right now.” And that was already more information than she wanted to share. “To the extent your sister is in danger, he’s protecting her.”
Caleb left the seat across from her and started pacing. “You need to get her out.”
“Reid will, as s
oon as he can.” Tasha glanced around. There wasn’t a single employee or security guard in sight. That likely meant cameras and, knowing Niko, ultrasensitive listening devices and body scans.
“You trust your guy that much?”
An interesting question since Caleb was the one who contacted Reid and dragged him into this mess in the first place. Tasha decided not to dwell on that point right now and skipped to the truth. “With my life, with Ward’s life. With the life of every member on my team. So, yes.”
That part wasn’t for show or a line in a training manual. Ward Bennett operated as her second in command in the Alliance, but he was so much more than that. He was her fiancé and the one person who could get her through even the worst day.
The rest of the team qualified as family. Better than blood relation in that she handpicked them and watched with awe every day as they amazed her with their strength and loyalty. Which was why they never left a team member behind and appreciated every sacrifice.
“If it’s dangerous for her there, she should be on her way home. Let Reid stay behind and fix whatever is happening on his own.” Caleb stopped behind the couch he’d abandoned and glared at her. “Hell, you can move your people in as her flight takes off, but I want her in the air and headed home.”
All of that sounded good in practice. Tasha knew better.
She leaned back on the uncomfortable low-backed couch and pretended to brush some nonexistent lint off her knee-length black skirt. The one that hid the knife strapped to her thigh. “It’s not as easy to get out of Russia undetected as you might think. Not when you’re there on a supposed mission with people watching your movements.”
“What kind of answer is that?”
“An honest one.” She could almost see the wheels turning in his head. Unless she stopped him—and she absolutely would do that whatever way she had to—Caleb would do something reckless and launch the world into a new war. “You need to trust me. Your sister’s life matters to me. I’m not writing her off as collateral damage.”
Under the Wire: Bad Boys Undercover Page 9