Playing Dirty

by HelenKay Dimon

  She could smell him. Feel him. When she licked her tongue over his tip, she tasted him.

  His scent wound its way into her head as his strong hands caressed her face. She was on her knees but felt powerful, cared for. Maybe even a little bit loved.

  Taking him deeper, she sucked and held him. Her hand moved up and down and her mouth followed. The grumbling at the back of his throat spurred her on. Need built inside her until all she wanted was to pleasure him.

  “Shay, I don’t think—­” But his hips shifted as if to help her take him deeper.

  “Yeah, don’t.” She slid her hand down to his base then up again.

  And when she swallowed him, he stopped protesting and started chanting her name.

  Harlan paced back and forth across Ward’s office. The space barely allowed for a desk and chair. Having Tasha and Harlan both in there made Ward downright claustrophobic.

  But it was either handle the difficult situation now or have Harlan out on the floor yelling. Ward couldn’t risk that. He had no idea how Harlan found out that the stated timetable for the run on Anthony’s house wasn’t accurate, but he knew and was pissed off. Forget the fancy education and proper accent. Harlan had been in there, swearing and fuming for ten minutes.

  Showing no signs of winding down, he stopped in the middle of the floor and scowled at Ward. “Why wasn’t I informed?”

  Ward looked to Tasha for guidance, but her face remained blank. She stood in her favorite uniform of olive cargo pants and a slim black long-­sleeve tee. She skipped the suit whenever she could get away with it, and tonight was one of those times. Looked good to Ward, since this situation seemed to call for combat gear.

  “There’s nothing to know yet.” That wasn’t exactly a lie. Ward hadn’t finalized the go ahead.

  Harlan went to the glass window and jammed his finger against it. The knocking sound had more than one person on the floor looking in their direction. “You think I can’t see Ellery working round the clock on something?”

  “Trent is in the wind. She’s been working nonstop since we figured that out.”

  “Bravo is revving up to go out.” Harlan tuned back, the fury evident in his eyes. “I want to know where and why.”

  “The timing is Ford’s decision.” Tasha’s cool voice broke through the male madness. She dropped the line and stopped talking, as if her word should end the discussion.

  Harlan clearly thought otherwise because he turned his wrath on her. “Since when do we let the team leaders decide operation protocol? They are in charge of on the ground tactics. That’s it.”

  “Not this time.” She maintained the monotone voice.

  “And I’ll ask again, why?”

  Ward knew Tasha didn’t need rescuing, but he’d created the situation and felt obligated to step in now. “Ford is in deep with this family. He knows their schedules and can call it without warning.”

  Harlan shook his head. “I don’t buy it.”

  When he started to say more, Tasha held up a hand to stop him. “That’s how it’s going down, Harlan. My word is final.”

  “Fine.” He broke their staring contest and threw open the door. A second later he disappeared like the ghost operator he’d once been.

  Ward watched his MI6 counterpart leave the Warehouse floor and wondered if he was off to complain to the ­people above Tasha. “That went well.”

  She exhaled and frowned and engaged in most of her I’m-­pissed-­off gestures. “If you think I like lying to him, you’re wrong.”

  “I don’t think it’s Harlan either. I will fill him in the second after Bravo moves in.” Maybe a few seconds, but Ward wanted to make the point the subterfuge would only last as long as it needed to.

  “You’re on a short leash.”

  “Right.” Ward nodded as his gaze scanned the documents on his desk. Floor plans and security system information. Anthony lived in a minifortress in an area frequently patrolled by private security and guards watching over ambassadorial residences. This job bordered on impossible.

  He finally noticed the room had gone still. He glanced up to find Tasha staring at him. The small shake of her head telegraphed her displeasure.

  If possible, the line of her mouth flattened even more. “I’m serious.”

  “We all are, Tasha.”

  22

  HE WAS a piece of shit. Ford had decided that last night as he watched Shay drop to her knees in front of him in the kitchen. He didn’t stop her when she stripped his briefs down his thighs. Or when she took him in her mouth. Or when he came on a crashing wave and wanted nothing more than to carry her to bed and start all over again.

  He didn’t feel any better about himself tonight. She was part of an assignment and he shouldn’t care about her feelings, but that was no longer possible. Every hour wrapped their lives tighter together and magnified his deceit. She depended on him and shared with him . . . and he’d lied to her every fucking minute he’d known her.

  Standing at the tree line on the side of her Uncle Anthony’s impressive house, with the team spread out and crowded into the branches of the tall trees, Ford fought to bring his focus back to the operation. They had Ellery and Ward on the com and Tasha listening in somewhere. But this was all up to Bravo. Lucas and Reid at one end. He with West at the other.

  Before they started tonight Ford had given the “prepare for a fuck-­up” speech. They had limited eyes on this op but that didn’t guarantee success, and there were a lot of variables out of their control, the biggest being Anthony.

  They’d picked now as the go time based on Ford’s personal intel. He’d called Uncle Anthony then gone to his office to talk early that afternoon. Anthony gave a speech about Shay that set women’s rights back by at least three decades. He saw her as an extension of him and would someday be an extension of her husband. He didn’t say it in a nasty way. More like in a protective-­to-­the-­point-­of-­stifling way.

  Ford had nodded and played along with the male bonding game because he had a role and information to collect, but inside he wanted to punch a wall. The idea Anthony saw Shay as almost fragile, as someone to be coddled, made Ford crazed. He defended her until he realized, in Anthony’s mind he wasn’t doing anything other than loving her.

  But the thought that this bright, energetic amazing woman needed a keeper made no sense to Ford. He didn’t see Shay that way. The vibrancy, how she was so even and sure and didn’t pretend to be anything other than who she was, attracted him the most.

  He tried to rationalize and remember that Anthony moved in a world where a woman was only as impressive as who she married. But damn, the walk through the 1950s’ mind-­set had Ford biting back bile. He also made a mental note to call his mom and apologize for men everywhere and their stupid ideas when the assignment ended.

  But the visit did give Ford a chance to plant the device on Anthony’s computer. One that let Ellery into his closed system. Even now Anthony sat in a restaurant at a late business dinner meeting with a man he thought wanted to talk about bringing a major hotel chain to town. Since Ellery faked the meeting on Anthony’s agenda and the businessman in question was really Pearce, that deal wouldn’t likely go through.

  Ford tapped his ear to open communication on his end. “Ellery?”

  “I need one more second to trick the alarm into thinking it’s set.” The typing almost drowned out her voice but she kept going.

  “Copy that.” They’d held tight for five minutes already. They could hang in for a few more.

  Ford delved deeper into the trees and listened to the sounds of the night. Cars passed by, down the small hill and through the break line in the stone fence guarding the front of the house from the street. The sound of crickets played around them, and the lights from the upstairs windows reflected onto the thick green lawn.

  When Ellery took out the alarm, she’d take out the sen
sor lights set up in a grid across the property. That still left the neighbors’ systems and roaming guards, not to mention the stray walker who might pick up movement if he were looking in the right place at the right time.

  “Any change in our time inside?” West asked the question from right over Ford’s shoulder.

  “No, we need to get in and out in ten.” Hardly enough time to accomplish anything, but then this job wasn’t exactly what it seemed.

  He’d briefed Bravo yesterday and they all agreed to use this assignment as a mole test. They didn’t share information. They’d been trained to act on command, and that’s what they did when he’d sent out the call signal an hour ago. No one complained and no one balked. Ford loved that about his team. Also loved that they’d fire if they had to.

  “That’s a big house to search in ten minutes,” Reid said.

  They’d seen photos, but Ford agreed it towered over them in person. He had no idea why one man needed all that space. Then again, he’d seen no evidence this guy needed the extra cash selling a toxin might bring.

  West whistled. “Three floors of expensive shit.”

  They didn’t have to recon all of it. This was about getting inside and beating the security. They could look around, but the idea was to plant devices and see if the mole made a play. “We put ears in the most reliable places and photograph anything we question.”

  Reid’s low chuckle rumbled on the line. “And if we happen to see a few vials of toxin laying around, grab them.”

  “Right. Simple.” Ford liked to say shit like that even though he knew it was pure shit.

  “Let’s hope,” Ward said. He’d stayed silent until then, but the sound of his voice reminded them all that someone was home at the Warehouse and watching over everything.

  Ellery’s soft voice broke in across the line. “One minute.”

  Time to go. In a second they’d know that either Ellery’s computer magic worked or the motion sensors and video surveillance would light up. If that happened, Ford wouldn’t need to worry about Shay because she’d figure out the IT story was a ruse pretty fast. He could also end up in jail or a shootout before Ward and Tasha could smooth it all over with the local police.

  Nature of the business, but what a damn stupid business it was. Protect and defend he got. Run around and almost get blown up needed a bit more explanation.

  Ford glanced at his watch and hit the button that would synchronize the timepieces they all wore and buzz them at the same time when they had only seconds to get out of Dodge. “Start countdown.”

  Ellery kept up a steady countdown, raising the volume when she got to the round numbers. “Forty . . .”

  “No casualties,” Ward said.

  The Warehouse crew liked to say that. Ford always ignored it. “Tell that to the other guys.”

  “No authority to neutralize targets.” Nothing unclear about Ward’s directive there.

  Of course, it was easy for the guy in the office to throw out no-­kill orders like that. Ford believed in survival. That meant he could shoot anytime someone leveled a gun at him. He passed that edict onto his team and he knew they would all follow it.

  Not that he wanted bloodshed or trouble if they could avoid it. Some field operatives grew to love the power that came with killing. Ford wasn’t one of them. Every death plagued him and stole a bit of his soul.

  “Thirty . . .”

  When Ellery hit the main mark, Ford nodded to West. “Going dark on this end.”

  The team went silent. Not even heavy breathing filled the line. From here they’d only talk in the event of emergencies, depending on the preplanned protocol, memories, and their watch timers to get them in and out without injury. The spare team listening in back at the Warehouse had the ability to break in and talk, but Ward ran these ops clean, like he’d want them to go if he were still in the field. That meant minimal distracting chatter on the line.

  “Ten . . .”

  Ford and West broke through the tree line to the edge of the property. They knew exactly how far they could go before bells started dinging. About fifty feet away and deeper into the yard Lucas and Reid appeared through the brush.

  “We’re a go.” Ward almost whispered the command.

  Bravo team didn’t wait. Wearing all black and loaded down with weapons they hoped they wouldn’t need, they headed for the gate that led around the side of the house to the back. They hit their beats, and as they arrived at the gate, a green light clicked on and the latch opened.

  Score one for Ellery.

  Footsteps thudded in the grass and the cool night highlighted the steam from their breathing. Still they ran. Crouched down and blending in, they snaked their way around the frames of outside furniture, missing the padding, and headed around the edge of the kidney-­shaped pool and fire pit.

  A smoky scent slapped Ford in the face. He couldn’t exactly see Anthony out here making s’mores but he could see him hosting a party for fellow bigwigs as they complained about paying taxes or whatever rich ­people did.

  Taking up positions on either side of the double French doors at the back of the scaling wall, they could see into the family room with its massive stone fireplace and overstuffed furniture. Everything looked expensive and oversized and nearly untouched, as if real ­people rarely hung out in there.

  With most of the back wall of the house glass, hanging around on display was probably not a great idea. The whole setup made Ford feel exposed and twitchy. It also meant they had to stay low once they were inside, which was not an easy task in the limited time they had to get this done.

  Lucas slipped a card through the back alarm pad and numbers flashed on the small screen. Ford didn’t want to know what Ellery did to hack into the alarm company and steal the code. Normal ­people would never sleep soundly at night again if they knew how easy cracking their systems could be.

  With a simple credit card he could take out a bolt. A well-­placed kick against the doorknob would shatter a door. Yeah, safety was an illusory thing, and little did the fancy neighbors know a toxin might be sitting right on their street. The mad rush to safety if that got out could almost be as bad as the toxin seeing daylight.

  West reached over and lowered the handle. The door pushed in without an alarm screeching through the night. That meant they’d gotten through the second hurdle. Both had been the usual for this neighborhood—­alarm codes on the door and motion sensors on the lawn. Now to confirm that Ellery had disabled the inside motion sensors.

  Lucas got down on his stomach and slipped a small pair of glasses out of his pocket. They looked thicker than most with black frames but otherwise ordinary. They were anything but. He’d see the infrared beams with them, and when he gave the thumbs-­up, Ford knew they were in the clear here, too.

  Round two also went to Ellery. The woman deserved a raise.

  They filed in, one after the other, and took off in different directions once they crossed the threshold to the inside of the house. Ford headed for the home office. It might seem obvious to hide something there rather than in one of the eight spare bedrooms or seven bathrooms, but Ford viewed Anthony as old-­school, and old-­school types thought of their offices as sacred.

  With his gloves on and his weapons at his sides, Ford slipped into the room. A quick scan of the obvious hiding places uncovered a small camera in the corner directly opposite the door. Out of experience, he knew Ellery had cut this feed, replacing the real-­time footage with a loop that would show the status quo.

  Ford headed for the desk, searched through the stacks and opened drawers. No locks and nothing out of the ordinary here. He moved on to the bookshelves and stuck a small black dot to the bottom of one of the shelves. The device would pick up all conversations in the room. The small square he put on the back of the computer monitor would give Ellery a look at whatever Anthony had hidden in there.

  A t
iny camera tucked into the corner of the framed print across from Anthony’s desk came next, and then one near the top of the curtains. The devices looked innocent. For anyone but an expert, they’d be thrown away as lint or broken pieces of something.

  Whether Anthony qualified as an expert or an innocent wasn’t clear yet. If he found the devices, he’d know someone was on to him, so whatever intel they collected they needed to turn around and use fast.

  Ford opened the closet and rummaged through the hanging clothes and the boxes on the floor. He tried to move one of them and it didn’t budge. He knocked and heard the distinctive hollow thud of metal.

  He recognized the sound as a safe. “Damn it.”

  Not a surprise, but the guy had two safety deposit boxes and a safe at the office. How many things could one man have to hide and protect?

  “Incoming.”

  Ellery’s voice was so low Ford nearly missed it. He almost shoved his earpiece into his head to get a better sound. “Repeat?”

  “You have company in the driveway.”

  “Anthony?” That didn’t make sense. Pearce had him targeted. They were in a restaurant close by, with plenty of time for Pearce to provide a heads-­up if Anthony started moving.

  “Yes.” Ellery’s voice stayed small.

  Ford wanted to yell. He fought to keep the calm in his voice. “Calling time.”

  Giving the modified abort signal grated against his nerves, but he had men all over the house. Any one of them could run right into Anthony of they weren’t prepared. They would have heard the warning call, but he knew they wouldn’t scatter unless he gave them the okay, so he did.

  Looking around, Ford checked for signs anyone had been in the room. No leave-­behinds and nothing out of place. He shifted around the door frame and mentally called up the blueprint of the house for the nearest quick exit. They had minutes to go on the alarm hack but that didn’t mean he could find a door without Anthony standing in front of it.