by Bianca James
“It might work,” Jarrad agreed. “But be careful and don’t take any chances. Jack . . . look after her.” He put his hand on Erin’s arm. “Thanks.”
She got the impression that was what passed as an emotional connection for Jarrad. She gave him credit for trying.
The air was thick with Elle’s residual scent, but then his hypersensitive nose locked onto a stronger, fresher scent, like a beacon. Blood.
That can’t be good.
He expected to detect other pheromones, given she was bleeding. But they were unusually absent. There was no fear or panic evident in the air. Only the strong scent of blood — his mates blood — leading him to her location.
Clever girl.
Most of the perimeter guards were busy chasing down the decoy infiltrators, leaving Jarrad a fairly free run of the place, but that didn’t mean he could be sloppy. That wasn’t his way. The army had trained him well. Never get too complacent.
As he drew near a small utility building in the center of the compound, the scent of Elle’s blood became overwhelmingly strong. He knew that’s where she was. He knew he should wait for backup. Every instinct instilled in him during his training told him not to be a lone wolf but to muster the troops and work as a team. Do it once. Do it right. That’s the way they did it in the military.
But Elle was his mate. She was in danger. She was bleeding.
Jarrad spun around the corner, used his heavy boot heel to kick the flimsy door open and stormed inside, gun up, ready to take out anyone who stood in his way.
The room was empty.
All that remained was a ramshackle chair and a wet puddle of blood on the floor.
Jarrad was still processing all this when he heard the blast of the shotgun and felt the impact. Point blank in the chest.
The H&K machine pistol fell to the floor, his hand no longer able to hold it.
His final thought before the darkness — Sons of bitches!
Chapter 19
“What was that?” Erin squeaked. She jumped as the loud report caught them both off-guard.
“Nothing good,” Jack whispered. “I can tell you that for sure. Sounded like a hell of a blast. Mossberg shotgun if I had to guess. About the only thing that can kill a Kodiak Bear shifter, too. Even our shifter healing can’t fix that damage.” Jack’s face darkened with concern.
“We need Spider. And more guns would be comforting, too,” Erin suggested. She was trying to maintain a brave face. She moved closer to Jack as if she hoped to draw strength from him.
Jack cocked his head to one side. Bear shifter hearing wasn’t necessary. Erin heard it too. Footsteps coming toward them. From behind. They were being surrounded.
Thumbing the safety off, Erin raised the barrel of her machine pistol, ready to take out whoever was trying to get the drop on them.
The dense foliage began to part.
Erin moved her finger from the trigger guard to the trigger, ready to fire.
“Did you hear that?” Spider whispered anxiously as he stepped through into the clearing, parting the large tree branches like they were nothing. “I think they got Jarrad.”
Erin looked at Spiders ashen face in the soft glow of the moonlight. He was plainly concerned for his friend and fellow shifter.
“Are you alright?” She reached out and placed her hand over his.
Spider took her hand and gave her a comforting squeeze. “I’m fine. But where’s my gun?”
“Take this.” She handed hers to Spider after flipping the safety back on. “Jarrad took yours. Doesn’t sound like he even got a shot off.”
“We need to sort these bastards out now. I’ve had about enough of them.” Determination laced Spider’s words. His face became a series of hard planes, washing away the Welsh dimples that had so softened Erin to him. He was all soldier now and he meant business.
“Is there any chance Jarrad could still be . . .” She couldn’t bring herself to say it aloud.
Spider shook his head morosely. Shotgun blasts never had a happy ending, not even for the biggest and strongest of bear shifters.
But, Elle was still one of their own. Part of their family. And she carried Jarrad’s cubs. It was time to go to work. They owed her that. They owed Jarrad, too.
“I’ve got an idea.” Spider’s eyes glinted like diamonds. Even in the faint light of the forest they sparkled with cunning, piercing through the veil of sorrow from the loss of his dear friend.
He handed his weapon to Erin. “Here, take this. You’re going to need it for what I’ve got in mind.”
“Oh, shit,” Jack mumbled under his breath, “this can’t be good.”
Chapter 20
The Russian built Mi-28 was never designed to win a beauty contest. But what the purposeful and heavily armed helicopter lacked in beauty and elegance, it more than made up for with absolute, uncompromising brute strength. And it was one hell of a brute, bristling with cannons and a variety of armed missile launchers it sat on the disused logging camp helipad like a giant insect. A gigantic, angry insect.
Jack recognized the dormant beast as the same type of helicopter, codenamed ‘Havoc’ by NATO, that had saved his life during a covert mission before he was medically discharged from the army. Another lifetime ago, before he came to the mountain. Somehow, it looked far more menacing on the ground. Or maybe because it was in the enemy’s hands.
“And you can fly that monstrosity?” Erin asked.
Spider’s eyes lit up in sheer admiration. “She’s beautiful,” he whispered.
“Until she starts firing missiles at you or trying to turn you into a bloody mess with those cannons,” Jack grumbled.
“Maybe I see beauty where you see something else,” Spider shot back quickly. Too quickly as he shot a furtive, sideways glance to Erin.
Laying alongside him, Erin felt his eyes upon her. She blushed, hoping neither of the men noticed.
He’s not talking about the damn helicopter anymore, is he?
“Let’s get cracking. That beast isn’t going to fly itself,” Spider snapped, more to himself than at the others. He needed to refocus on their mission.
Jack and Erin readied their weapons to cover Spider as he made a dash for the mighty gunship. Spider was counting on them, or as Erin preferred to think of it, on her.
Before she could change her mind and ignoring Jack, for the moment, Erin hurriedly leaned into Spider and kissed him on the cheek.
“Good luck,” she whispered, her voice wavering between pride in his mission to save his friend’s wife and fear that he might fail.
Spider’s throat constricted as he looked into Erin’s crystal blue eyes. He couldn’t find the words, not that he could have said them, anyway. He nodded in silent acknowledgment and sprinted down the slope toward the helipad.
“What have you done to him?” Jack taunted. “He used to be one of the hardest men I’ve known. Around you, he’s like a pussy cat.”
“I . . . I don’t know what you’re talking about.” She felt the heat of her blush prickle around her collar.
A smile started to form on Jack’s lips, but before he could make a smart comment, Erin’s unyielding glare made him think better of it. Sometimes the smartest thing to say is . . . nothing. He’d learned that lesson. More than once.
The unmistakable clatter of Kalashnikov assault rifles and the bright muzzle flashes from the tree line rudely interrupted their standoff. Trails of dust marked the impact of bullets at Spider’s heels as he zig zagged across the concrete landing pad.
Trying to get a bead on the shooters, Erin and Jack fired short, controlled bursts toward the shooters. The entire field of fire was soon hazy with gun smoke, making it equally difficult for both sides to hit their targets.
Just as quickly, though, the smoke cleared as the massive rotors of the Mi-28 began to spin through the air, accompanied by the whine of the jet turbines that powered them. Spider had made it.
“We’d better get out of here before she’s fully spun
up.” Jack grabbed Erin by the arm, directing her to further up the slope.
“Don’t we need to cover Spider?” By her expression, she was clearly concerned for his safety.
“Trust me, he’s not the one who needs looking after right now,” he shouted as they ran full speed, away from the increasing pitch of the engines.
Within seconds, the giant insect was aloft and rotating 360 degrees on its axis. Panicked bursts of gunfire bounced harmlessly off the choppers armor plate. Then, suddenly, the loud clatter of the Kalashnikovs was drowned by the deafening boomf-boomf-boomf of the turret mounted 30mm canon in the Mi-28. Spider had unleashed the sting of his new toy. His angry insect had spat venom.
Thirty seconds later, although it felt much longer to the Armenian gangsters, swathes of forest were laid flat. Not a living creature stirred. The empty cannon whirred back and forth on its mount, eager to be fed more ammunition. The choking odor of ammonia from the vast number of 30mm rounds it had spewed out hung in the air like a deadly pall.
Erin stared wide eyed and silent at the wake destruction unleashed by just one of the helicopters armaments. Jack was right. Spider wasn’t the one who needed protection.
Erin was speechless. But her lips silently formed the words.
“Fuck me.”
Chapter 21
The blazing lights almost blinded Jarrad when they removed his hood. Having awesome night vision as a bear shifter was all well and good, until someone pointed a cluster of high intensity lights in your face.
He blinked away the glare and shook his head to clear a foggy sensation. Shotgun. Searing pain. Darkness. How was he still alive?
At least they wanted him alive. That had to be a good thing, right?
Then he remembered the high tech, self-contained taser shell hitting him in the chest. Just because he was a bear shifter didn’t mean he couldn’t feel pain. Right now, he was feeling a hell of a lot of pain. The long, barbed spikes were still deeply embedded in his chest. Only the small, winged canister remained visible.
It hurt like hell, but nowhere near as much as the surge of electricity that the shotgun fired XREP self-contained taser pulsed into his convulsing body upon impact. It had dropped the muscular, fit ex-soldier like a puppet with its strings cut. He recalled convulsing and writhing in agony on the floor before a rifle butt to the head rendered him unconscious.
Finally, his vision started to adapt to the harsh lighting. Crystal white LED running lights, connected to a 12 volt battery were the cause of the insane brightness in the room. And then he noticed Elle, strapped down to an old wooden workbench, like a macabre carpentry project.
“Give him one more shot, before he tries make change,” a commanding voice instructed, clearly directing someone else in the room.
Shot of what?
The sharp accent marked the man giving the orders as East European. Then his memory, disjointed by the electrical impulse of the taser and whatever they were drugging him with started to piece together. The cartel. They had captured Elle because he wasn’t there to protect her and him because he had to be a hero and couldn’t wait for the rest of the team.
Stupid.
“Another dose of Carfentanil could kill. He’s had enough already. Should keep him in control.” Another voice with the same accent came from behind Jarrad, so he couldn’t see him, but he sounded concerned. So was Jarrad.
Jarrad had worked in bear country long enough to know that Carfentanil citrate was a powerful opiate based sedative used to sedate large, powerful animals, such as bears and elephants. Too high a dosage and the outcome would be fatal. But why were they using it on him?
The man giving the orders entered Jarrad’s peripheral vision. He looked vaguely familiar, but he couldn’t work out why. The man hooked his meaty hand under Jarrad’s chin and lifted his head up to the light. Jarrad hunched and closed his eyes to the blinding light.
“Does this one look sedated to you? Give more. Give more . . .” He waved to hurry the other man along, plainly terrified that Jarrad might shift before their very eyes and tear them apart.
But there was no chance of that. The drug had rendered the bear within Jarrad dormant, as if it was hibernating. He was now totally on his own and Elle was counting on him. He wouldn’t let her down again.
As the oversized steel needle painfully penetrated deep into his shoulder muscle, the last thought through Jarrad’s mind before the drug dulled his human senses as well was . . . how did they know?
Somehow, the cartel had found out that bear shifters inhabited the mountain. They hadn’t come to kill them. They’d come to capture them.
Elle could hear what was going on, despite the cloth sack over her head. She pieced together the puzzle at the same time as Jarrad and realized that she was no longer of any value to her captors. She had served her purpose. It felt as though a heavy weight was crushing her chest, choking her breath as she thought of losing her cubs and Jarrad. Forever.
But the pain was not for her alone. She felt the tears on her cheeks as she thought of Jarrad’s pain at losing them all while he remained in captivity.
Then her pain was cut short by the deafening roar of a gunshot.
Chapter 22
With air support from Spider and his new toy, Erin felt ready for anything. Finally she was playing the role of the covert secret agent she’d always dreamed of. Fighting evil and saving the world. Big Bear Mountain was a part of the world, right?
“We only get one shot at this,” Jack warned, the curved stock of his H&K nestled in his shoulder, ready to fire.
“I’ve got it,” Erin snapped back.
“No need to get the cranky pants on. I’m a professional. I do this for real. You’re a . . .”
“A what?” she challenged.
“Reporter?” he ventured weakly.
“Nosy Parker”
“What?” He quirked a brow.
“I’m a nosey reporter. My last name’s Parker, so at work they call me ‘Nosy Parker’ when they think I can’t hear them.”
“Well, right now, you’re my backup. Spider can keep our flanks covered, but I need you to help me sweep the room when I go in.”
“I still think me not having a gun is a bad idea.”
Jack let out a patient sigh. This was about the tenth time she’d mentioned that. The girl had some serious firearm issues.
“All you have to do is be an extra pair of eyes and call ‘eleven o’clock’ or ‘nine o’clock’ or wherever the hell I have to shoot. I’ll sweep the right side of the room, you call out the targets on the left. Easy, right?”
Her lips pouted like a petulant child but she nodded in reluctant agreement.
Everything happened at the same time, but also like it was in playing in slow motion.
Jack gently tested the door handle.
Unlocked.
They were getting cocky. Too reliant on their guards to keep them safe. He doubted they’d had military training and if they had, it was second rate. At least he had that advantage in his side, even if he was outmanned and outgunned.
Quietly, he levered the handle and gently shouldered the door open, both hands holding his weapon in firing position.
Erin saw him. He was standing next to the head of a woman strapped to a bench, her head covered in a black sack. She was about to call ‘ten o’clock’ when the man drew his pistol faster than she thought possible and fired.
Jack had drawn a bead on a rail thin, dough faced man with a syringe in his hand. The man dropped the syringe in his haste to raise his hands in the air. Pointing a H&K machine pistol at someone will do that.
Movement caught his attention on the other side of the room.
Just as Erin started to call out to him, Jack turned his head and started to bring his weapon to bear on the hostile target.
That’s when he saw Elle. Between him and the shooter. He didn’t have a clean shot.
Elle! The cubs!
He had to trust his instincts. He fired. Two rounds
in quick succession hit the gunman in the shoulder, enough to throw his aim high. High enough to miss Jack and Erin and that’s all that mattered. He hit the floor, trailing blood down the wall against which he’d been thrown from the impact, his shoulder a bloody ruin.
In the distance, they heard a few sporadic bursts from the Mi-28’s cannon. The sound of the bursts was moving away. Chasing the remaining cartel goons off the mountain. Their mountain.
Dough face had recovered his wits enough to make a dive for Jarrad’s abandoned weapon in the corner of the room.
Before Jack could bring his weapon around, Erin leaped toward Jarrad’s gun, sliding the last few feet along the floor like she was stealing home plate. She snatched the weapon out of reach of the runty little Russian, Armenian or whatever the hell he was and poked the barrel right in his face.
“Go ahead, make my day,” she snarled through bared teeth.
She looked over to Jack. She smiled and shrugged her shoulders. “I’ve so wanted a chance to say that, pretty much my entire life.”
Jack wasn’t about to argue with a woman, especially a woman holding a gun.
Chapter 23
Cassie saw them first. Her heart nearly burst.
“Rosie, they’re here,” she called out.
“All of them?” Rosie asked hesitantly as she emerged from the diner’s kitchen, wiping her hands on her apron.
“Well . . . yeah, you could kind of say that. They seemed to have picked up an extra, by the looks of things.” Cassie scurried to the door, hurling it open and ran toward Jack. Jack had come back to her. Like he promised.
Cassie hated being kept from the action, from her man. She was determined that this would be the last time. From now on, they were a team and whatever Jack had to deal with, she’d be at his side.
“Who’s that?” she asked, nodding her head toward Erin, who was walking closer to Spider than Cassie thought she really needed to.