Under the Wire: Bad Boys Undercover

by HelenKay Dimon

  When his voice trailed off Cara knew some other thought was bouncing around in his head. “What?”

  “It’s just that Russian special forces is all over this. It’s as if they’re trying to find what we just found.” He walked a few steps up the riverbank. “If they suspect Niko at all, think his expedition is behind the bomb, then why let you guys in the country? Niko is in Russia. Why not bring him in for questioning?”

  “Niko is here?”

  “Did I forget to mention that?”

  Another example of his inability to share, but she decided not to point that out. Not now.

  “That leads us back to someone else. A third party.” She did not find any comfort in having yet another person running around collecting dangerous materials. Then there was the idea that any member of her expedition could be working against them. Not just against the reason for the documentary, but in opposition to the CIA and to Reid’s Alliance.

  “Or Niko, and he’s really damn good at pulling this off.”

  She was about to tell Reid that he needed to pick a theory and stick with it when she heard a steady thumping. They were a good distance away from the hatch now and making their way back up the hill. This sound came from above them.

  She glanced at Reid. “What’s that?”

  He was already moving. He had his gun out and was pushing her toward the ground. In an instant he stiffened and clicked into action. Morphed into the lethal protector. Even his expression changed. “Down.”

  They both hit the dirt on their stomachs. The footsteps grew louder and she picked up the sound of gasping breaths. There was a grunt and then a body flew over the side of the hill boots first. A male body, long and wiry, launched up and into the valley. Hit the dirt and rolled.

  He threw his arms to the side to stop his slide. Pebbles rained down and the rough skid filled the air with thuds and strings of whispered profanity. Being dressed in head-to-toe black with all his skin covered helped slow and then bring him to a halt. It also made him look like one of the special forces guys, only without the gun and protective helmet.

  But there was something. A memory tickled in the back of her mind. The look . . . that voice. She shook her head because it didn’t make sense. She was about to tell Reid she’d officially lost it when he started scrambling.

  On his hands and knees, Reid hurried to the guy, flipped him over, and froze. “What the fuck?”

  Blond hair and in his late thirties. Even with the cuts on his face and black eye, Cara recognized him. “Simon?”

  His eyes popped open. He continued to inhale deep breaths but his gaze roamed over the landscape before settling on Reid. “Who are you?”

  Reid didn’t lower his gun. It pointed right at Simon’s head. “You’re supposed to be dead.”

  He was. Cara would have sworn to it. She remembered his lifeless body on the floor near Cliff back in the abandoned work camp. She shimmied her way over to the men. Confusion numbed her whole body. She couldn’t get her muscles to work or her brain cells to fire.

  She lifted a hand, almost touched Simon, then snatched it back. “You were on the ground. Covered in blood.”

  The vision still played in her head. All that loss. She’d been lucky and now she knew why. Cliff had gotten her out of there. But the others? She thought they’d lost Simon even though his body hadn’t been found.

  “Cara?” Simon tried to sit up.

  Reid pressed a hand against his chest and flattened him against the ground again. “Stay right there.”

  Anger flashed across Simon’s face then disappeared. He turned to Cara and the sad pleading returned to his voice. “You disappeared back at the tents.”

  “I was dragged away.” For some reason it felt right not to tag Cliff as her hero. Not now, not to Simon. She should be happy to be alive and grateful—and she was—but none of this made sense to her. Until it did, she wasn’t offering any extra information. Not saying anything that anyone could later twist around.

  Reid tapped Simon’s arm with the side of the gun. “How did you get out of the work camp?”

  “The what?” Simon scooted on the ground, clearly trying to get away from the gun. “Listen, I was grabbed by men with weapons that night when they attacked the tents. They took me with them and kept moving locations. They questioned me about some lab.”

  “And?” Reid asked in a sharp tone.

  Simon’s mouth dropped open. “What?”

  “Why aren’t you with them now?” Reid emphasized each word.

  Cara knew from experience his patience was running low. She couldn’t blame him. Simon stammered and balked. All fair for a guy running from armed men. It made sense . . . but for some reason it didn’t.

  “They killed Brad in front of me.” Simon turned to her again. Shot her an intense terrified look with those dark eyes. “He started talking about cobalt and a cave and they went to work on him and I got away. I’ve been running ever since.”

  The information made sense. The special forces guys were looking for the hatch, just as Reid thought. They found Simon and Brad and those two bore the brunt of the examination. Not that Simon looked tortured. He didn’t. Even the matted blood in his hair back at the prison camp was gone. It was as if he’d been washed up and sent out again.

  For some reason she could not get around those facts. She wore half-clean clothes only because she’d made it back to the expedition’s compound and grabbed a bag. Without that she’d have been running around in blood-soaked ripped shreds.

  She glanced at Reid then back to Simon. “Where did you get the change of clothes?”

  For a second his victim mask crumbled. His eyes narrowed and a red flush stained his cheeks. “What is with all these questions? We need to get out of here before they come for—”

  “Shut up.” Reid put a hand around Simon’s neck. “If you say one word I’ll shoot you.”

  “Who are you?” Simon whispered the question.

  Cara thought it was the wrong one. “Just listen to him.”

  She’d been following Reid. He was the only reason she was alive. Despite the jumping in her stomach and strings of panic that kept filling her brain, she trusted him. He would get them out of here . . . somehow.

  She motioned for Simon to stay down and hunkered down next to him. She held her gun in her pocket, careful not to show him she was armed. If Simon made a stupid move, she’d be ready.

  A vehicle rumbled to a stop above them. She suspected it was too much to hope they wouldn’t come to the ridge a second time. There were no voices. No yelling of directions or moving around.

  This was a hunt, and somewhere along the line she’d become one of the prey. The stalking, preparing to launch from above. She could see it all play out in her mind and waited for the attack to start.

  She glanced over and watched Reid type something into his watch. One of these days she’d take the thing and examine it, figure out what it could do. She just hoped she’d get the chance.

  Simon turned over onto his stomach and lay next to her. He looked like he wanted to say something. She shook her head to get him to stop.

  The silence dragged on. No one moved. It was as if one side waited for the other to fire. Little did they know that Reid could wait forever. He’d sit, half crouched, for hours if that’s what he had to do. Gun up, ready to fire.

  A bang rang out above her head. She swore she could hear the bullet whiz by. She heard a ping then a splash. Still, Reid waited. He’d inched up higher and she wasn’t even sure how or when. He now waited above them, more than halfway up the steep sloping side.

  When a head peeked over the hill, Reid jumped up and lunged. Grabbed the attacker’s pants and yanked. Dragged him right into the valley and sent him tumbling. Then he stood up and fired. Two shots and the world went silent again.

  The whole thing happened in a few seconds. Each moment spooled in slow motion, but she knew it zoomed by her. Her mind went to the first man who’d come down, and she spun around, ready to fir
e at anything that moved at the bottom of the hill. Seeing his body and the way he landed, the odd angle of his neck and one leg, she knew she didn’t have to.

  Then Reid was there. He skidded down the hill, flying on the side of one shoe. It was an amazing sight. When he got to the bottom he checked the man for a pulse and shook his head.

  She wanted to ask questions but didn’t know if they were clear or if more men were pouring out onto the open area above them.

  “He’s dead?” Simon whispered the question but it still sounded loud in the relative quiet of the cloudy day.

  “Yes.” Reid answered as he walked back up to where they lay in the mix of dirt and mud. “Both of them.”

  Simon’s head fell back on the ground and he exhaled. “Thank God.”

  “They were after you?” Reid’s eyes narrowed as he talked.

  Simon didn’t move. “I heard a truck and started running.”

  She needed to stand up. Reid held out a hand and she grabbed it, springing to her feet. That put them both in a position towering above Simon. He looked relaxed and relieved and not even a little bit upset about the idea of a dead body lying just a few feet away.

  “Thank you,” Simon said as he sat up.

  Reid let his arm fall to his side but he didn’t put the gun away. “You can make it up to me later.”

  Simon’s eyes narrowed. “Excuse me?”

  “You have some questions to answer.” Cara thought that seemed obvious, but she filled him in anyway.

  “Uh, yeah.” Simon stood up. Didn’t wince or reach for any injuries. He stood straight, as if he’d been out on a leisurely hike. “Of course.”

  Reid glanced at her. “Of course.”

  “We’re getting out of here, right? I’d like to be on a plane home as soon as possible.” Simon brushed his hands on his pants. Seemed oblivious to the fact that he’d just issued an order of sorts.

  Reid took a step toward him. “I’m not your travel agent.”

  “I don’t know what you are.”

  “How about the guy who just saved your life?”

  “Gentlemen.” Cara knew if she didn’t step in she’d be mopping up after a bloodbath. She leaned into Reid’s side to get his attention. Also to hold him back. “We should get out of the open area and into somewhere more protected.”

  Simon nodded. “Onto a plane. That’s what I’ve been saying.”

  “Get up there and get in the truck.” This time Reid did aim the gun.

  Simon looked at the weapon, then at Reid’s face. “What truck?”

  “The men following you were nice enough to leave us one.” Reid touched his side. The move took a second and he never showed weakness. “It will make the trip back to the mine go faster.”

  Cara knew she needed to check his wound, but there was no way Reid would allow that to happen in front of Simon. Reid viewed Simon as a threat. She could tell from the way he spoke and how he handled himself. He had not lowered his guard even one inch.

  She knew she should stick up for her fellow team member but she couldn’t. They barely knew each other . . . and she didn’t trust Simon either.

  Simon glanced from Reid to Cara and back again. “What mine?”

  For the first time since they found the hatch, Reid grinned. It was feral and carried a threat as he regarded Simon. “I’m afraid you’re not done with Russia yet.”

  Simon snorted. “I get a say in that.”

  Reid’s grin only widened. “No, you don’t.”

  20

  THEY SETTLED back in the mine less than a half hour after the latest shooting. Then the talking began. Question after question. The routine went on for over an hour without providing Reid with any new information.

  There were enough dead bodies on the ground. Reid didn’t want one more, but he might make an exception for Simon. Nothing about the guy’s story made sense.

  Reid had absolutely been in situations where the truth sounded like a lie and vice versa. Simon might truly be the most unlucky man alive. All possible. None of that explained the limited injuries and fresh clothes.

  He claimed he escaped from a group of Russian special forces. Trained men who, from Reid’s experience over the last few days, didn’t have any qualms about shooting first and verifying identity later. They might not be the top fighters in the world but they were still damned good, and tough as hell. Had to be to survive in this sort of business. Reid admired them for doing their jobs. He hated killing them for performing as they should, especially if Simon turned out to deserve killing, but no one touched Cara without her consent. Ever.

  Reid figured he’d know more about Simon and his objectives in the next few minutes. After walking through his wild tale about being driven all over the Urals and threatened while watching his coworker die—none of which added any new facts to what he’d said back on the hill—Simon asked to “stretch his legs.” Reid assumed he was considering running away. Which was why he waited just around the bend of the mine tunnel on the way to the entrance doors.

  He could hear Cara humming in one of the rooms. She said something to him about it being one of the songs her father composed. Reid had never met him or heard the tune before. But it never ceased to amaze him that her father was a man who wrote symphonies . . . ones that never sold.

  Her mother kept the family alive on an elementary art teacher’s salary. Together they hated Cara’s science career and, from what he could tell, anything that didn’t directly benefit the arts. Never mind that Cara excelled at everything she did. Their billionaire tech genius son Caleb was no slouch either. A royal pain in the ass, but successful under any calculation.

  Maybe Cara had been right not to introduce him to them. They would have hated his lack of talent. Probably hated him. He pretended not to care about that.

  Hated that he hadn’t read a book in more than two years. Been horrified that he couldn’t remember ever stepping into a museum. He did knit. A habit he picked up while undercover but hadn’t done for a while. He bet the skills were still in him somewhere.

  But the truth was, if Cara had asked him to do any of those things—hell, he’d sit through one of her father’s symphonies or even listen to a lecture about paintings or whatever—he would have. As much as he hated being weak for her, he was. Whatever she needed from him, he’d give. It’s why he mentioned the parade of terrible foster families. He’d hoped that would be enough to satisfy her curiosity about his past, but he doubted it.

  He leaned against the mine wall and listened. A few seconds later the scrape of a boot against the dirt floor echoed back to him. He checked his watch. Hell, it took Simon long enough to make the move. Reid wondered what he’d been doing for the last ten minutes while he skulked around the mine tunnels. There were only so many places to go. Reid knew because he’d explored each shaft until he ran into a blockage.

  Now the issue of how to handle this. Nice or not.

  Simon’s shadow passed on the far wall, which meant he was getting close. Sneaking to the door and then . . . Reid had no idea. He was half tempted to let him get outside and follow, but the truck stood out there. Simon might be stupid enough to jump in and try to start it.

  More footsteps.

  Reid knew he had only seconds to decide. Apparently, shooting the guy was out of the question. That wasn’t his rule. Cara told him no. He couldn’t even persuade her that one bullet to the thigh might get them answers faster.

  Women.

  Simon picked up his pace. He rounded the corner and ran smack into Reid’s chest. The expression on his face, half fury and half shock, was worth the body blow.

  Reid tried being nice. “Hello.”

  Simon just stood there.

  Well, the guy had his chance to finish this with some self-respect and wasted it. One swing and Reid slammed his gun into the side of Simon’s head. Used just the right amount of strength to drive him to his knees. Reid was about to take a second shot when Simon fell over on his side in the dirt.

  “Huh.
” Reid leaned down to check his pulse. Still breathing. That was probably a good thing.

  Parker walked in a few seconds later and stood across from Reid on the other side of Simon’s still body. “I see we have company.”

  Always on time. Parker had messaged ahead to say he’d be there in ten minutes. He’d stopped to take care of their newest round of casualties and hide the bodies to lessen suspicion as much as possible, so he missed the initial questioning. Lucky him. Reid had filled him in about the lab and the theories about the conflicting players in this game. He hadn’t quite gotten to the intel on Simon yet.

  Reid continued to stare at the body at his feet. “He’s alive.”

  Nothing about that seemed to impress Parker. “Is that good?”

  “I’m not sure yet.” Reid looked up. “We found our missing scientist wandering around the riverbed.”

  Parker nodded as he pushed against Simon’s arm with the toe of his boot. “Convenient.”

  “Right?”

  “And then he tried to sneak out past you?” Parker laughed. “The dumbass.”

  The move did strike Reid as wildly optimistic. The poor bastard. “He has some trouble with authority.”

  “Apparently.” Parker dropped down and checked Simon for weapons. “No ID. What does Cara say about him?”

  “She doesn’t know him well and won’t vouch for him. They got thrown together on this expedition. She’d never heard of him until he showed up for the flight.”

  Parker snorted. “That’s not suspicious at all.”

  “He’s a botanist.” Reid wasn’t sure what that added, but Cara stated it as an important fact, so he passed it on.

  “Plants, right?”

  “Something like that.” Reid hadn’t asked what, if anything, that would have to do with a cobalt bomb. He figured they had some time while they tried to work out how to handle the lab, their new guest, and the crap ton of moaning that was headed their way from the Russian government for being on its soil without permission. “She keeps staring at him like he’s an experiment she can’t figure out.”