The United States government had been close to moving in to arrest these people for driving a city into the ground. The FBI had decided they were going to arrest the whole lot of them...on April 1st, 2090. Someone, somewhere, had a sense of humor.
Kevin tried to imagine San Francisco after the 2090 nuclear war, as well as twenty years of being mismanaged and run into the ground, not to mention being cut off and isolated from the rest of the real world. “Yeah, I imagine it wouldn't be pretty.” Kevin frowned. “Why don't people leave? Mercenaries can go back and forth, so what's keeping the rest of the population?”
Mandy smiled. “Guess who runs the nearest local airport?”
“The local heavies,” Kevin concluded. “So that means, what, corporate raiders?”
“That's one way to put it,” Mandy told him. “The cost of leaving the city is...prohibitive. On a good day. And everyone has to be careful about who’s allowed out.”
Kevin cocked his head a moment, pondering what she meant. “If the inconvenient ones should get out, there would be retaliation?”
Mandy nodded. “Not just them. People who are best left in San Francisco.”
Kevin slowly nodded. “Any of the crazies get let out of the asylum, then...they could blab about San Francisco's continued existence...” He narrowed his eyes. “San Francisco's registered as destroyed. Any hint that it's been used as a political dumping ground...”
“They would correct the clerical error,” Mandy concluded.
“Nuts.” He shook his head. “I think we need to have a clean sweep of the entire Beltway for this to be fixed.”
She smiled and touched his cheek. “One thing at a time.”
Kevin smiled with one cheek, and then nodded. “And now we ask the question: How many of them can we make die?”
She laughed and sat next to him, wrapping an arm as far around his shoulders as she could. “We'll get to that sooner or later.”
Kevin breathed out a light sigh. “We'll make it, Mandy. We'll make it.” After hearing all that, he knew he should be feeling like crap. It really did help to just have the company. They stayed there, on the edge of the bed, and Kevin wrapped an arm around her shoulders.
Mandy leaned in close to Kevin, and felt his warmth against her. He was comfortable, surprisingly so, and she was … conflicted. Oh, everything she had told him had been perfectly true. She wanted to clean up the Mercenary's Guild. The thought of her people, the organization her father had helped create, being a party to killing off good soldiers - that was unacceptable. Someone needed to clean house, and Kevin would do that along the way. There was no reason she couldn't help.
And, yes, she liked Kevin. She liked his style, his personality, his nearly invincible idea of his own abilities, but he respected his own mortality enough to watch his back carefully. She liked that he could handle himself, and anyone who got in his way. There was nothing wrong for liking a competent operative, was there?
Unfortunately, she started appreciating Kevin Anderson in more...intense ways than she would any other colleague. In fact, if she didn't know better....
As she settled into Kevin's side, doing nothing more than touching his leather jacket, one thought occurred to her.
I think I'm falling in love with Kevin Anderson … AW HELL. What else could go wrong?
*
Angie Vaughn was a finely tanned redhead with bright, nearly luminescent eyes, and dark, almost blood red, curly hair that fell down her back in tight ringlets. And below her neck were long, tan legs, muscular arms, and her usual mode of dress made it quite clear that the tan went everywhere, and that everything was well curved and proportioned. She also had a wonderful, light British accent that sounded as sexy as hell.
She was, in a word, stunning... Unless you paid attention. If you did, then there was something definitely off about her. Angie’s eyes were very animated and passionate, but there was something in her gaze that told you that you were prey. She would take you, gut you, and do it as slowly as possible. It was for that reason that she was known around the office as the Mantis.
And right now, she wore a proper fitting uniform that covered everything below the neck for the simple reason that she was facing the one man in the entire organization she didn't want to get on the bad side of...unless she were prepared.
Though it might come to that. She stood straight and proper. “Why have we been taken off of the Senate Intelligence Committee's protection detail...sir?”
Major Antonio Rohaz grinned around his cigar as he leaned back in his chair. She had been at attention in his office for five minutes as he deliberately went about various and sundry “urgent” matters. And now that he had her at attention, he wouldn’t allow her to be at ease.
“Because, Commander, I don't like them. I'm tired of them thinking of us as their own personal assassination unit.” He took a moment to drag on the cigar, taking his sweet time about exhaling. “However, if you are concerned your unit might be shortchanged, feel free to tell whatever committee members you meet that they can pay for you and your team directly.”
Vaughn's eyes narrowed. “Major, if I may ask—why now?”
His gaze narrowed. “I don't need to give you a reason. If there will be nothing else—”
“Sir, I—”
“If. There will be. Nothing. Else. Commander.”
“No sir.” Angie nodded, turned on her heel, and left the room. She stepped out into a stark, concrete hallway, then glared at the metal door that said, “Major Antonio Rohaz, CEO.”
“Not for long, if I can manage it,” she growled to herself.
Vaughn march down the stark hallway, her fiery hair behind her like a comet's tail. She then made a right, and suddenly the concrete became carpeted flooring. She stepped out into the plush exterior in the lobby, an illusion for the clients who thought that being a Mercenary was just a high class rent-a-cop. The plush chairs in the waiting room were stuffed to the gills, certainly, but the cloth was made of Kevlar. The counter front desk was armored. The secretary, an over endowed blonde, had a Tec-9 submachine gun under her desk, and the oversized chest was great for her bra holster.
Angie Vaughn sighed as she marched over to the elevator. She stabbed the button with her finger, almost bruising it. Angie shook her head, and looked out the window of the Pyramid Building. The Pyramid Building looked like just that—a pyramid. It was a jewel of the city, the peak of San Francisco 20th-century construction.
At the top of this building were the offices of the Mercenaries Guild, San Francisco branch. Vaughn looked out over the city. The fog was so thick that the city vanished into the haze, almost constantly. The whole effect was like that of Brigadoon, a vanishing city.
Which is perfectly accurate, since it's been disappeared for years.
The Guild made plenty of money as security operatives in the area. It was constant work for anyone who was bored and wanted a job. It was an endless source of employment. But it could have been better. San Francisco could easily employ half the Guild if they really put themselves out there...which they didn't. Rohaz had a list of people he didn't want to work with. So most of the Guild in San Francisco was the dregs of the organization, people who they could afford to lose. But the Guild could do so much more.
And when my people and I take over, we're going to have lots of fun taking the city for our own personal use. After all, there are so many interesting people to encounter. I always enjoy meeting new people...and torturing them to death.
Angie Vaughn laughed, and flipped her hair over one shoulder. She enjoyed hunting, and now she was going to go out and find the most dangerous game: Kevin Anderson.
Anyone who got in her way would just be collateral damage.
And no one has seen Mandy lately, have they?
*
Everyone in Angie Vaughn's upper command staff exchanged glances.
The hotel room was comfortable and easy to relax in. It was a simple business suite, a loan from a Corporate that Angie had wor
ked for. When she wanted special favors, he would lend her the room. She took full advantage of it. A hotel was a great place to get rid of bloodstains.
All three of the men in the room were her officers. Each of them was her cutout, contacts to people in other units who wanted to see certain changes in the Mercenary Guild. The first step, the most important change, would be the removal of Major Antonio Rohaz.
“Where has Mandy been?” she asked them. Vaughn stalked the room like a proper predator, now dressed in simple black commando garb. She circled the three officers like a lion would encircle gazelle. “She was last reported coming in after Senator Friedman confirmed that Anderson's dead. Now Friedman is dead, Anderson's still alive, and Mandy is on 'vacation.'” She stopped pacing and merely arched a brow. “Anyone else see something wrong with that chain of events?”
The three men looked at each other, then shrugged. Lt. Commander Craig looked at her and said, “What would you prefer we do though? Do you think that we can kill Mandy and—”
“That's exactly what I mean,” she said, her eyes alight with an unholy fire. “We kill Anderson and Mandy, and we bring Mandy's dead body to undermine her father, all of her friends and all of his supporters.”
Craig nodded slowly and thoughtfully. “That would include everyone around Major Rohaz. And, what, half of the board of executives?”
Vaughn nodded. “Precisely. We will use Mandy to topple everyone in our way. Her reputation is the only weak link in the entire chain. We know why Anderson is on the rampage. We're going to protect the one man that Anderson will have to kill in order to make anything he's done mean a damn. Francis Kirk.”
“Who?”
Chapter 12: New Complications
It was no longer his DC hotel room, but Paris. Moira's skin was milky white, and her deep blue eyes were dark with passion as Kevin made love to her. Their lips were locked together most of the time.
“God, I love you,” he breathed in between kisses.
She locked her legs around him and held him still inside her. One arm wrapped around his back and her hand twisted in his hair. She held him still and rolled her hips, making him groan. “Especially when you do that.”
Moira grinned, and then paused, her mouth wide, as though she were about to moan, but no sound came out. “And I love you too.”
“I could do this forever.”
She smiled, and giggled as he touched her. “We will, one day. Make up for lost time.”
“Soon.”
Moira rolled on top of him, her hips rising, and stayed up. He groaned...and her eyes went deadly serious. “Not soon, Kevin. I don't want to see you in person until you're good, old and gray, and die in your sleep. Otherwise, I am so going to kick your ass, am I understood?”
Kevin looked at her and could feel himself welling up. “What am I going to do without you?”
“Get a life. Get a girl. Get laid. Mandy looks good, a bit small, but that's her build.”
“She tried to kill me only months ago.”
“Yes, but she's not now.”
*
Mandy rolled over on the couch and groaned in frustration. What the Hell was Anderson's problem, anyway? How many nightmares can a guy have?
She rolled out of the couch, wearing just a T-shirt and panties. She had been around more guys than Anderson, and she wasn't exactly shy. Anderson had insisted she take the bed, but she had insisted that the couch was already an upgrade from her cot at the local Mercenary barracks. Though, truthfully, she wasn't going to be sleeping in a bed bought and paid for by a credit card owned by Anderson's dead wife. Something about that just rubbed her wrong.
Mandy walked through the penthouse as though it was a whole building—which it felt like. The Mercenary opened the bedroom doors, and there was Anderson, tossing on the bed. She wondered what sort of dream that he could be having that he would do stuff like this. She stared down at him, this time without looking at him through the sights of a gun. Now she just wondered how she could calm him down without shooting him. She sighed lightly and shook her head. She had three brothers growing up, and it usually helped to either slip one of the dogs into their bed, or just cuddle with them if the dog felt uncooperative.
And, damnit, I don't have a dog on hand...Yeah, sure, that's right, keep telling yourself that. Mandy shook her head and slipped in beside Anderson, gently touching him.
*
Moira rolled off Kevin, rolling onto her side, with Kevin moving behind her to spoon against her back. “That was fun.”
“Who says we're done?” he whispered into her ear.
*
Mandy smiled gently when Kevin immediately stopped tossing. She allowed herself to relax, and didn't even react when Kevin wrapped his arms around her, settling in comfortably behind her. He even hugged her gently. That wasn't too surprising—she had seen him with his arms wrapped around a pillow back in Louisiana. He probably wasn't used to sleeping alone yet.
Mandy let her head sink into the pillowcase and smiled. Okay. This wasn't too bad. His body was nice and warm, and he even smelled good. And when it was mixed with a nice, comfortable, bed, yeah, she could get used to this.
Kevin settled against her, almost spooning against her back. And if she didn't know any better, she would have sworn his hipbone was jutting into her backside. Mandy smirked a little and settled back against him. This was possibly the only guy she knew who could have a morning erection at one in the morning. She didn't exactly have a lot of opportunities for comparison, though. Considering who her father was, there weren't a lot of men who wanted to make a move on her, lest she or her father disappear them into some radioactive Siberia.
Then again, what sort of nightmare could provoke an erection, it's not like he was...
She blinked. Oh darn. Well, so much for that assessment of his “nightmare.”
Mandy softly laughed to herself.
Kevin murmured a little, and the only thing she caught was “one.” Maybe “done.” “Mere done”? Maybe another word that rhymed with either of the above. She couldn't be sure, and she didn't care. He could talk in his sleep at that volume all night and it wouldn't bother her.
And then his hands started moving.
*
“Who says we're done?” he whispered into her ear.
And then his hands started moving over Moira's body, delicately tracing smooth curves, firm muscle. He leaned forward and nipped gently behind her ear, and down her neck. The scent of soap in her hair drove him to distraction.
Did her hair grow longer? It wasn't shoulder length before. Oh, it's just a dream. Things like that happen. That was her hairstyle when they first met. Then she decided that it was too bothersome to continually straighten it. Kevin moved his hands lower, to her...underwear? She wasn't wearing that a moment ago. Strange dreaming. Vivid as hell, odd incongruities. He moved his hands to her center, and she was still as warm as a few moments ago...
“Kevin, are you awake?”
“Dumb question.”
*
Mandy nearly jumped when Kevin's hand drifted lower. It had felt like a lazy, gentle caress as it wandered down her side, stopping at her hip. It was a simple touch, nothing especially overt. If he was awake, it was a particularly inept seduction, which is why she was certain he was still out cold. Then his hand changed direction, and slid down her body somewhere far more interesting.
Mandy's teeth clenched, and she cautiously went down and grabbed Kevin's wrist. His fingers didn't stop their gentle probes and caresses. “Kevin,” she whispered, “are you awake?”
“Drm weston,” he muttered.
I guess that's a nooo...ooh...kaayyy, yeah, that's interesting...ugh...very interesting. Kevin should prolly...unh...wake up now.
Mandy was only able to gasp out a slightly strangled, “Oh ffffffuuuu …”
*
Kevin chuckled slightly. He enjoyed doing this. Moira had always thought that he had just been particularly Catholic about sleeping around before he wa
s married, which was why he had made darned certain to be engaged to her before even thinking of having sex with her. That was a large part of it, but doing it this way allowed him a better perspective, seeing her pleasured. He enjoyed her pleasure almost as much as sex itself. Call him a romantic, but who cared? She certainly didn't seem to mind.
“Moira, I love you.”
*
Mandy heard Kevin mutter something else, and she felt a stab of guilt about using him like this without his knowledge. However, a much stronger stab of pleasure ripped through her, blocking it out. Maybe I should wake him up to see what he can do when he's awake... but he'd probably stop and... Yeah, he can't stop now... I need to get laid more often...This is so much better than sleeping.
*
The alarm went off at seven in the morning, and Kevin immediately rolled over and swatted the alarm with extreme prejudice, dropping a hammer blow on it hard enough to break a normal alarm clock.
Kevin glared at it a moment longer, then rolled back over, wrapping his arms around Moira's warm...
Kevin blinked and looked down at the brunette in his arms. And she wasn't Moira.
I swear to God I have not had something to drink. “Mandy?”
“I'm sleeping,” she muttered, “go away.”
Kevin blinked, shook his head a little, and decided that maybe it was time to get up and hit the washroom. He swung out of bed and moved towards the bathroom on complete automatic. The spy immediately twisted the faucet, rubbed his hands together under the running tap, and splashed water on his face, scrubbing it lightly.
He glanced at himself over his fingertips, noting how he looked in the mirror. He had apparently slept well—he'd certainly looked worse. He took a deep breath and sighed...
Kevin blinked and sniffed at his fingers. Okay, now this is odd. What happened last night?
After he came out of the shower, in full bathrobe, Mandy was gone from the bed. He blinked hard and looked around, making certain that he wasn't completely insane. But, no, she had been there. It had already been stripped. Either Mandy was eliminating evidence … or she was just interested in making the cleaning crew do their job. He shook his head a little.
Codename: Winterborn (The Last Survivors Book 1) Page 14