Love and Let Die mam-5

by Lexi Blake

  “How many?” Alex asked.

  Eve moved quietly, not panicking at all, over to where Charlie huddled with her sister.

  Ian stared out. “I don’t know. One, I suspect, since that was how many little red lasers got pointed at my chest. How do you feel about lasers now, Alex? You worried about kitty cats?”

  “Fine.” Alex shot the word his way. “I’ll install lasers and be the mean old man at the end of the block who murders everyone’s pets. How are we getting the women out of here?”

  “We kill the bad guys and then we can get the girls out.” He really wasn’t sure there was another way. Unlike the earlier attempt, this asswipe had them pretty well pinned down. If Ian was the operative, he wouldn’t give up in this case. He would move positions and wait for the target to come out of hiding. He really wasn’t sure how many of them there were. If he took them out the front, they would be easy targets if the fucker had a partner or was a really fine sprinter.

  “Call the police,” Eve said. “I’ll get to my cell.”

  “No,” Ian shot back. “We call the police and she goes on their records. No police.”

  “Call the police, Eve. If someone locks me up, then so be it. I’m not getting everyone else killed,” Charlie said. “The sirens should scare him away for now.”

  What was she thinking? “Don’t you dare pick up that phone. She won’t just get carted off to jail. She’ll go someplace where no one will see her again. Do you understand me, Eve?”

  Eve nodded and didn’t make another move for her purse.

  Unfortunately, Charlie had her own purse. She reached in.

  Now she decided to be self-sacrificing? “Charlotte Marie Dennis, I swear to god, I will make sure you never sit down again if you dial that phone.”

  “Ian, this is serious. I can’t let other people die for me.” She started to move her finger across the screen.

  Chelsea reached up, grabbed her sister’s phone, and before Charlie could stop her, lobbed it across the room.

  “Damn it, Chelsea.”

  But he was on Chelsea’s side this time. And he had to deal with this fucker because Charlie was his responsibility. “Give me cover fire.”

  “Ian?” Alex started. “What the fuck are you going to do?”

  He was going to do something stupid, and he didn’t have time to argue about it. The glass had shattered into neat little pieces all over Alex’s brand new floors. Ian jumped over the glass and out into the yard.

  He heard Alex curse and then lay out a quick pattern of gunfire. Alex’s lot was at the end of the street in a sprawling, wealthy neighborhood. It looked like his closest neighbors were a quarter mile away, but the cops could still show if someone was awakened by gunfire.

  He was so sick of this. Usually he only had to deal with one attempt on his life a day, but Charlie just had to raise the stakes. Given where he’d been standing and the trajectory of that red laser, the man had to be in the woods behind Alex’s house.

  Ian ran to the left of where he suspected the shooter had been hiding.

  Sure enough, he felt something ping by his shoulder, grazing him like a near miss with a lightning bolt. Awesome, now he was bleeding. His night was turning into a clusterfuck.

  He changed course, moving behind the big trees, using them as cover. He placed his back against one and focused on the sounds around him. His sight wouldn’t do him as much good as his hearing. It was a new moon, and Alex had to pick a house that didn’t have street lamps.

  He stilled himself, slowing his heart rate. There was no need for adrenaline here. This wasn’t fun. This was a job, and he would do it quietly and efficiently. Silence. He heard the wind and someone breathing. His opponent wasn’t as professional as he should be. His adrenaline was up. He was dragging air in his lungs and choosing between fight and flight.

  Ian could have told him the decision had been made the minute he took that shot.

  The ground underneath his feet was hard, and he had no doubt that the minute he moved, something would shift. But that meant the douchebag assassin would make some noise, too.

  Ian held his position, trusting Alex to keep the women safe and Charlie in line.

  No sound except the idiot’s breathing, and he couldn’t pinpoint exactly where that was coming from. Behind him and to his left, he couldn’t be sure where to fire, so he held. It never paid to play a card before he knew he had the winning hand. Patience was the name of this game. The first one to move lost, and he didn’t intend to lose.

  Two minutes passed, maybe three. The woods became quiet, the world narrowing to the wait for that one sound that would tell Ian where the assassin was. Patience. Patience. Patience.

  A twig snapped as the man made a run for it.

  Ian pivoted out, his hand coming up. His eyes had adjusted but all he needed was that one flash of white where the man’s hood had drifted back, exposing pale skin.

  He squeezed the trigger in one easy move, his target in sight.

  Now he heard the best sound of all. The sound of his enemy hitting the ground.

  Shit. He hoped he hadn’t killed the fucker.

  Moving quickly, he crossed the distance between them, keeping his SIG ready in case he hadn’t completely incapacitated the man who had tried to shoot him to get to Charlie.

  A black-clad figure lay still on the ground, his hand on what appeared to be a sniper rifle. Ian kicked it away and the body didn’t move. Shit. He needed more practice time with moving objects. He was getting rusty because he hadn’t meant to hit the fucker’s jugular, but it appeared he had given the amount of blood pumping out of his victim’s body.

  Alex was going to kill him for getting all that blood on his brand new yard. Using his boot, he turned the body over, assessing it. Six foot. Probably one ninety. He was dressed in all black, assassin chic. A black bag had fallen to the side. Ian rifled through it. Cartridges, extra pair of gloves, cell phone, passport, some cash, and a flask. Vodka. Ah, the Russians. They did like to celebrate the little victories.

  He picked up the kit and started for the house. They would have to get rid of the body, but maybe something in the assassin’s bag would offer up some useful intel.

  He stopped just before he reached the back doors. The lights came on, nearly blinding him.

  Ian jumped out of the way. Alex wouldn’t have turned on the light. Gunfire cracked through the air. Fuck. There was more than one. His eyes started to adjust to the light, and he saw a man standing under the archway, a handgun pointed at Alex.

  “I am looking for the girls. Give them to me and I let you and your wife live,” he said in a thick Russian accent.

  Alex had the man in his sights, but they were at a standoff because for some damn reason, Eve had left her safe position behind the soapstone-covered counter and was on the floor in between the two men with guns. The Russian had one upped Alex. He was two fisting, with one gun trained on Alex and the other steady at Eve’s head.

  He couldn’t see Charlie or Chelsea.

  “Somehow, I doubt that,” Alex replied, his voice steady.

  “I know you have them here. I was watching place. I think to take your wife and exchange for girls, but you bring them to me. You love wife? You want her to live?”

  “Let my wife go and we’ll talk about this. I might know where they are.” It was a stalling tactic. Ian set the bag he was carrying on the ground as Alex continued. “I would be willing to make an exchange, but not until my wife is safe.”

  Ian chanced looking around the corner. Alex was attempting to give him time to get back to the house and surprise the fucker, but he couldn’t just go in guns blazing.

  Luckily, those lights were bright and Ian was covered by the gloom outside. He could see inside, but it would be difficult for anyone to see him from the circle of all that light.

  The Russian had moved closer, the gun in his left hand touching Eve’s head. She was turned away from the Russian. Her eyes were steady on Alex, but no panic showed there. Good
girl. She wasn’t feeding Alex’s fear. She was calmly waiting for him to resolve the situation because she trusted her Master. Charlie could learn a few things from Eve.

  “But, my friend, if I let wife go, I have nothing to bargain with. Perhaps I take her with me.” There was a nasty chuckle from the assassin as he used the barrel of his gun to play with Eve’s hair. “Maybe after few hours, you will be in mood to share.”

  Eve wasn’t feeding Alex’s fear, but this fucker was damn straight going to make Alex blow, and that could be bad for everyone. He had to be precise. Ian shed his fear for Eve, his concern for Alex, and let the plan roll out in his head. Two steps toward the door. That was what he would need. It would leave him shrouded in darkness, but get him close enough that he wouldn’t accidently hit Eve. Head shot. One shot straight through the brain pan and those guns would drop. The target was a little under six feet, but they weren’t on level ground, so he would adjust two inches higher.

  All the tension left his body and he stepped up, ready to take out his second asshole of the evening.

  But Charlie popped up first. She rose from behind the counter, the nail gun the contractors had left behind firmly in her hands. She had one hand holding the thing up and the other was pulling back the safety trigger that allowed the nail gun to fire. Her pretty face showed no expression as she pulled the trigger and popped two big-ass nails into the side of the Russian’s head and neck. He never saw it coming, didn’t react in any way except to get a stupid expression on his face and fall to the side, dead before he hit the ground.

  God, she was hot. She was a fucking warrior goddess with a damn nail gun, and he kind of wanted to do her right then and there, despite the many bodies now littering Alex’s property. Eve might be really good with submissive trust, but Charlie had amazing aim and a steady hand.

  Eve sat in the middle of her floor, seemingly unable to move. “Did Charlie just kill that guy with a nail gun?”

  Alex was kneeling, trying to help his wife up. “Yes, thank god.” He hauled her into his arms, pulling her away from the corpse. “Are you all right?”

  “Is there blood on the hardwoods? Because I don’t think our warranty covers that,” Eve was saying.

  Ian watched Charlie as she calmly put the nail gun down, but he noticed her hands were shaking, a fine tremble. Her hand went down, helping Chelsea stand. No one was there to cuddle Charlie, to wrap her up and let her know everything would be okay. He could see the sadness in her eyes, the knowledge that she was alone.

  Fuck. He wanted to go and hold her and praise her for her skills with turning construction machinery into killing weapons.

  “I wouldn’t move if I was you, mate,” a familiar voice said from right behind him. He heard the distinct sound of a safety being clicked off. “I know you’re quite fast, but I’m no slouch myself, and I would really hate to kill a friend.”

  How had he missed it? He’d allowed someone to get his fucking back because he’d been busy worrying about Charlie’s feelings. “I’m not feeling too friendly right this second, Damon.”

  A hand touched his shoulder. Damon Knight, MI6 agent and usually an ally, slapped him on the right shoulder. It hadn’t been so long ago that he’d helped Ian with an op in London, but it looked like the cooperation ended there. “I have to ask you to drop the gun, mate.”

  He thought seriously about taking the chance, but Knight was hardcore. He might feel like shit about it, but he would kill Ian if he deemed it necessary to complete whatever mission Her Majesty required of him. Fuck, he was going to kill Simon if he was in on this. He would take that Brit apart limb by fucking limb and feed him to the dogs. He didn’t actually own any dogs, but he would adopt the nastiest set of mutts he could just for the pleasure of feeding them Simon’s body parts if he’d joined the team just to spy for Knight.

  Ian dropped the SIG, hating every moment of being caught with his pants down. “What do you want, Knight?”

  It was a dumb question. There was only one thing Knight could possibly want. “I want The Broker. For the last few years, MI6 has been tracking a hacker who calls herself The Broker. She’s been selling information all around the world. If the Agency isn’t interested in her, too, I would be shocked. I’m not trying to fuck with you, Tag. I believe Charlotte Denisovitch is The Broker. She’s been causing trouble and my bosses want to have a little talk with her. She has information we need. I promise I’ll watch out for her. I won’t let her come to any real harm.”

  Just a little torture. He looked inside the house. It wouldn’t be more than a minute or two before Alex got his shit together and came looking for him, but it was already too late. Damon wouldn’t have come alone. “Where’s Baz?”

  Damon Knight and Basil Champion had been partners for years. If Knight was here, Baz would be backing him up.

  “He’s here.” Simon walked from around the side of the house, Baz in front of him.

  Baz’s slender frame belied what Ian knew to be a ton of lean strength. He was wearing a black long-sleeved shirt and black slacks, looking dapper as he moved through the yard. “Hey, Damon, look who I found.”

  “I told you to put your fucking hands up,” Simon ordered. “Do you really think I won’t shoot you? I don’t even bloody like you.”

  Ah, no dogs for the Brit. Simon was getting a raise.

  “Now, seeing as I have your boy here and you have my boss, I suggest we all take a little time out and talk this through like the gentlemen I know we are,” Simon said. “Or we can start shooting and see who’s standing at the end.”

  “You’ve been in America too long, Weston.” The gun at Ian’s head disappeared as Knight sighed. “You’ve turned into a bloody cowboy.”

  No, Simon had gone from MI6 agent to Ian’s man. There was no way to downplay the beauty of loyalty. Ian had taken Simon in after he’d fucked up, shown him that he didn’t have to conform to MI6’s rigid rules, and Simon paid him back with loyalty.

  “Boss, Adam picked up this one’s trail about two hours ago. I rather thought they might decide to pay you a visit. Damon, in case you’re thinking about trying something tricky, you should know I have a sniper on you. Jesse? Are you in place?”

  A voice came from above. “Sure as fuck am. Tell Alex his roof is totally solid. I have a great view from up here. I would have taken out the first dude, but Ian seemed to be having fun. This one, though, is all mine.” A nice red dot appeared on Knight’s forehead. Right between his eyes.

  Yeah, he was getting to like Jesse, too.

  Alex sighed from his broken patio doors. “Could we keep the body count down? As it is I have no idea what we’re going to do with the sniper and the Russian Charlie used as a carpentry experiment. Why don’t we all come in the house and talk this thing through? There has to be some way for Damon to get what he needs without taking Charlie to Britain’s Guantanamo Bay.”

  Alex was a spoilsport. “Fine, but you need to think about moving, man. This is a dangerous neighborhood. Hey, those contractors didn’t happen to leave a shovel behind, did they?”

  Alex’s eyes went wide. “You can’t bury them in my backyard. Damn it, Ian, we’re putting in a swimming pool in the next couple of weeks. How am I supposed to explain that? First my French doors, then the hardwoods, and now you want to turn my backyard into a fucking body dump. It’s not happening, Ian.”

  He walked away, muttering under his breath.

  “I think that’s what happens when good agents lose their brain to a pretty bird,” Knight said.

  At least they were in agreement on one thing.

  He picked up Knight’s gun and followed Alex into the house.

  Chapter Ten

  Charlie watched as Ian and Damon Knight sat at his kitchen table together, their faces grim as they worked out her future.

  Apparently her input wasn’t helpful as she’d been told to get ready for bed. He hadn’t even allowed her to help bandage him up. Eve had been the one to wash the blood off his shoulder and tell him how l
ucky he was that the bullet had only grazed him. Ian dismissed her the minute they had gotten back to his big house in the country. Chelsea had already disappeared into the guest bedroom Ian had assigned them to. Alex and Eve took the bed in the small dungeon. Jesse and Simon were pulling guard duty while Ian had called Jake and Adam to bury the bodies until Ian was ready to offer them up to the Agency. Charlie was sure the only person who was happy with anything that had happened all night long was Serena, who would probably be taking notes.

  She couldn’t even think about sleeping. Not when she needed to get away. It was time to leave. Ian didn’t want her and she didn’t want to get anyone killed. She’d thought they would only come after her, but today had proven that her uncle was willing to hurt civilians to get to her. She’d thought she would have more time before they found her. Hell, she’d thought that maybe they had given up. She’d been in Florida for over a year working on the op that brought her back to Ian and no one had tried to kill her then. After so long without hearing from her uncle, she’d felt almost safe. Safe enough to come after her husband.

  She’d been wrong and it was time to leave. After a little rest, she needed to get Chelsea and clear out of here.

  The closest she’d managed to going to bed was changing into one of Ian’s massive T-shirts. It would have to do for sleepwear. It hung to her knees, covering more than a lot of dresses did.

  “So you’re married to the big guy, huh?” Basil Champion sat down on the couch across from her, a longneck in his hand. He draped himself almost negligently across Ian’s big comfy couch.

  “Not really.” She wasn’t sure why the British agent wanted to talk about her marriage, but she wasn’t getting into it with him.

  “That’s not what the paperwork says, love. It’s just hard to believe you’re here. I was there the night you died, you see. I actually got a decent look at your body. Damon and me had to get Big Tag away from the police. Our bosses thought he might suffer a bit in jail.”