by Taylor Lee
The dead silence throughout the room confirmed that everyone heard her shocking put-down. With a loud growl, Martinez rose menacingly from his chair, then lowered his head and turned on her, a snorting bull pawing the ground, preparing to attack. Viviana had started to move back when two strong arms lifted her up in the air and dropped her a full three feet away from the charging man. In a dizzying turn, Dubois wrenched Martinez’s arm behind his back and pinned him to the table, pressing the miscreant’s face against the wine-stained tablecloth. The frantic man’s writhing body and tortured screams confirmed that Dubois’s thumb on the pressure point on Flores’s neck had painfully incapacitated him. Only when Martinez’s screams became sobbing imprecations begging to be free did Dubois release his hold.
Jax turned to his partners, Brent Peters and Serge Striker, who were at his side before he’d secured Martinez to the table. Jax wasn’t surprised that Felix Garcia was beside him nearly as quickly as his men. He nodded to the three powerful men and murmured, “Get him out of here.”
Felix jerked his head at two of the cowering men at the table and said to Jax, “We’ll take care of it, Lucas. He’s our problem, not yours.” Looking over at Viviana, who was clinging pale-faced to the edge of the table, he muttered, “Jesus fucking Christ, woman, whatever are we going to do with you?”
Glancing at her, Jax raised an ironic brow, then said to no one in particular, “In my mind, that may be the question of the century.”
Not sure where she could or should go, Viviana stumbled out onto the patio, looking for a place to crash. Her legs were shaking so hard, she knew if she didn’t sit down, she’d fall down. The adrenaline that had spiked her body when she turned on Martinez was beginning to crash dramatically. She sank into the plush armchair and leaned against the back. She was still amazed she’d taken on the hideous man in front of the entire cartel. God, Felix was right. What was she going to do with her? She knew she’d attacked a dangerous man. She could only hope that his cadre would be like Felix. Horrified, but maybe even a little impressed. No matter the outcome, Viviana knew she’d done what she had to do. No one, particularly a Neanderthal like Martinez Flores, would ever call her his cunt and get away with it.
“Mind if we join you?”
Viviana startled and looked up to see Dubois and the two men who’d rushed in to help him subdue Martinez standing in front of her. Behind them was Marcus, the bartender she’d flirted with earlier. The grinning server was carrying a tray with two bottles of Compass Box Hedonism and five glasses. He nodded at Dubois and said, “The lady particularly likes Compass Box. Although I think it might be the Hedonism component that attracts her.”
Jax’s lip quirked up at the label on the box as he sank into the chair next to hers. He quipped, “Methinks that is a given. By all means, have at it, Marcus. I have to believe that even the feisty Miss Nilsson could use a healthy pour of scotch, the more hedonistic the better.”
After they’d silently toasted one another, quaffed back the potent liquor, and accepted the refill Marcus offered each of them, Jax allowed himself to focus on Maja. God, she was beautiful—and sexy as hell. Her rosy cheeks, shining eyes, and slightly disheveled hair called out to his dick. It surged shamelessly in response to the stunning woman. He could hardly blame his erotic tool. Hell, nothing like beating up a piece-of-shit asshole to get the old testosterone flowing. Added to Maja’s cutting takedown of the repulsive man, it was no wonder his libido was in overdrive.
As he had for the last two days, he marveled at the surprising woman. From her headlong dive off the cliff, to her insolent attack on Francesca, to her stunning takedown of Flores, he knew he’d never seen a more brazen and, frankly, more courageous woman. Not to mention that she was clearly more than a little unhinged. He raised his glass to her, forcing her to meet his gaze.
“To you, Miss Nilsson. Congratulations, you single-handedly silenced a roomful of heavily armed gangsters, any one of whom could have taken you out blindfolded.”
Viviana tossed her head and grinned. “Don’t be too sure of that, Mr. Dubois. You don’t know the half of my talents.”
Jax laughed along with the others, then agreed. “I’m confident of that, Maja.” He allowed his gaze to rest on her bodacious bosom, then drift lazily over her curvy hips and showgirl legs. Glad that his arrogant perusal and use of her first name brought a pleasing flush to her pale cheeks, he murmured, “Let’s just say that what I have seen to date more than promises additional ‘talents.’ ”
To his disappointment, Maja tossed back her scotch and rose to her feet. Giving a theatrical yawn, she raised her arms over her head in a body-revealing stretch, then purred, “Sorry, gentlemen, I really must go. I need to get my beauty sleep.”
Jax quickly rose alongside her and said with a concerned frown, “I hope you don’t mind me asking, but where are you going?”
She shrugged and said flippantly, “To my suite. Where else?”
Horrified that she might mean the suite she shared with Flores, Jax forced himself to speak calmly. “Hmm, isn’t that where Garcia took your bad boy suitor?”
She pretended surprise. “Yes. And so?”
No longer trying to couch his concern, Jax asked, “Are you sure that’s wise? In case you haven’t noticed, your paramour isn’t the most stable of men. Particularly since he’s mainlining H and smack, and he’s drunk out of his mind on booze. It’s hard to predict what he’ll do when the crap wears off.”
Maja grinned at him and said jauntily, “Put it this way. I’ll have finished my ten-mile morning run and be all nicely showered and dressed when Martinez pries open his bloodshot, groggy eyes and greets the day.” She reached into her purse and pulled out a plastic baggie containing different-colored tablets. Responding to Jax’s frown, she said, “The only thing I know that’s stronger than Super Eight and crack is Fentanyl. Two of these strategically placed in the bad boy’s booze ensures that my sleep will be sound and uninterrupted.” She winked at him and said impishly, “Timing is the only challenge with these little babies. But never fear, I’m a master at timing. I don’t appreciate being awakened by rutting men.”
She tipped up her chin and met his gaze. “By the way, thank you for coming to my rescue. I appreciated it. Even I was a tad concerned that I might not be able to take him down.” With a saucy wave, she said over her shoulder, “Good night, boys. Sleep well. I intend to. It’s been a full day.”
With that irony hanging in the air, the audacious woman sauntered into the resort to God only knew where.
Jax sank back down in his chair and silently nursed his drink. He had to admit that he was entirely taken by the gorgeous, truly outrageous woman. He also acknowledged that it hurt like hell that she was a moll, at the very least heavily involved in the cartel. He groaned and rubbed at his eyes, knowing how hard it was going to be to take her down with the rest of the criminals. Something he planned to do in the next two days.
Glancing up, he saw his team members studying him. He knew that he likely looked as troubled as he felt, so he tried to lighten the mood. Forcing a grin, he said, “Well, men, if nothing else, you have to admit that she really is something.”
Brent Peters and Serge Striker exchanged a telling look. Brent nodded to Jax. “Yeah, man, that she is. In fact, that may be the understatement of the century.”
After a pregnant pause, Serge leaned forward and said solemnly, “We need to talk, boss man.”
Understanding that their news was not good, Jax sat up straighter in his chair and nodded to Brent. “All right, buddy, enough foreplay. Have at it.”
Brent sighed and put up his hands. “Okay, man. Serge and I did as you asked. We nosed around, determined to find out who the little sprite is that’s had all of our dicks working overtime. We checked with the usual sources and then as things got interesting, we started checking with the unusual sources. As things got even more interesting, with the help of the housekeeping staff, we managed to obtain and ship a specimen of her DNA to the n
ational data bank and told ’em to rush it.”
Aware that his men would never go to this much trouble unless it was necessary, Jax shoved at the bile surging in his throat. Knowing that the news could only be bad, he nodded to his partners. Breathing out a hard sigh, he said, “Go ahead, lay it on me. She’s a high-level Russian spy, preparing to take over the Muñoz cartel single-handedly, and is wanted in six countries for murder—of small, defenseless children, no less.”
Serge shook his head and smashed his lips together in a firm line. “No, man, we should be so lucky.” He reached over and refilled their glasses, then met Jax’s stern gaze. “Since this is close to an unbelievable tale, I recommend you buckle up and prepare for the ride of your life.” He added with an exaggerated sigh, “It’s about as bad as it can get, dude. She’s a cop.”
Chapter 6
What. The. Hell!” Jax leapt to his feet, glaring at his team.
Serge sighed. “Yeah, boss man, thought you might say that.”
Brent Peters sidled up next to Jax, concern deepening the furrows on his troubled brow. “Tell you what, Jax, how about we head to our suite? The rest of the guys are waiting for us there. While I always have sound blockers in place wherever we are, we don’t want to take any chances.” He groaned. “Not that the fucking cartel would believe what they heard if they could bug our suite. Christ, I’m still in shock, not ready to accept what our crack techs insist is the God-awful truth.”
When they got to their suite, Jax saw that four more of their team had gathered in the adjoining conference room. They all looked up at him, clearly concerned. Max Peters, one of the DEA agents on the op, lifted a nearly empty bottle of Glenmorangie to Jax inquiringly. Jax shook his head and began pacing across the front of the room. Not willing to believe what his men were saying, he barked question after question, demanding they tell him everything they knew—and how they’d learned it. At first he refused to trust what he was hearing. It was too fucking implausible to be true. But the more he listened to his men’s serious responses, the closer he came to accept that they’d been deceived by a skilled chameleon.
Glaring at Scott Atkins, their chief technology guy, Jax snapped, “What department? Where? What city?”
“San Jose PD, boss man. To be specific, their SVU division—Special Victims Unit.”
“Goddammit, are you telling me that after nearly twenty-four fucking months of planning, some half-assed police department decided they wanted to single-handedly take down the Muñoz cartel? Without as much as notifying a single goddamned state or federal agency?”
Atkins shook his head. “It’s worse than that, Jax. It’s not officially the SAPD. Christ, it’s not even their SVU division. In fact, the gig isn’t anywhere to be found on their official books.”
As he began to allow himself to believe the preposterous tale his solemn men were telling him, Jax fought to keep his voice under control. Trying for calm, he asked the question that his gut told him he already knew the answer to. “All right. If, as you say, the SAPD is in the dark, as is apparently their SVU, whose crazy mission are we dealing with?”
Serge Striker sighed. “Have a feeling you’ve already guessed the answer to that pertinent question, boss man. Apparently the ‘mission,’ if you can call it that, is the brainchild of one hardheaded, not-to-be stopped woman.”
Brent Peters stepped in and met Jax’s hard gaze. “I’ll make this as succinct as I can, Jax. Apparently Martinez Flores and his guys killed two members of the SAPD SVU that was tailing him. That untoward action put them in the crosshairs of none other than Sergeant Viviana Moreau.” He added with an ironic grin, “According to the men who’ve worked with her, Sergeant Moreau is known as the Enchantress. You may recall what made Marvel superheroines indomitable was their strength of character and tenacity. According to Galaxy trivia, the Enchantress is one of Marvel’s most power-hungry and devious superheroines.” He sniffed. “Remind you of anyone we know, dude?”
Jax stopped pacing and growled at Brent. “Goddammit, who’s in charge of her? Somebody must be!”
Scott Atkins glanced at his computer screen and rattled off some of their findings. “She’s a member of an award-winning SVU. It won’t surprise you that no one can keep her on a leash, including her squad leader and even her unit captain, who is a thirty-year veteran. In addition to her off-the-books, undercover jaunts, the feisty sergeant’s cracked some of their most difficult cases—virtually single-handed. Given her penchant for notoriety, she’s become something of a media darling. As you know, she’s as beautiful as she is shameful, which makes terrific copy for a ravenous press. Even the police commissioner has become a Viviana groupie. And why not? What could be better for a beleaguered police department than a gorgeous, renegade police detective who always gets her man—no matter if she follows the rules or not?”
Serge Striker picked up the tale. “Apparently her foray into the Muñoz cartel is pure Viviana Moreau. She didn’t ask permission, just went forward and headed for Belize. Once here, she browbeat her furious captain into agreeing that he would give her three days to carry out her crazy plan. At the end of the three days, whether she succeeds or not, he said he would yank her out if he had to call in the Avengers to do it. By the way, it’s rumored that the sixty-five-year-old captain is due to resign—apparently because he’s admitted he can’t control their off-the-rails superstar.”
Jax spit out, “Who’s here with her, on her team? Who are they, and how are they disguised?”
His men exchanged glances among themselves, then looked to their second-in-command to answer their boss. Brent said with a sigh, “Here is the most unbelievable part of this un-fucking-believable tale. She’s solo, Jax. Here on her goddamned lonesome. Now, granted, her squad leader and a couple of other guys are in Belize, hanging out with the Belize PD. I guess when Sergeant Moreau gives the word that she has the Muñoz cartel under control, the locals and her squad will helicopter in and save the day. On second thought, that would make too much sense. My guess is that they will try to get here with sirens blazing and lights flashing, hoping like hell no one notices, and they save their wayward woman before the cartel chops her into pieces and feeds her to the sharks.”
Acknowledging Jax’s disbelief and clear anger, Scott Atkins broke in. “Don’t know if it will help, man, but Wayne Matthew has partnered with her on a couple of ops. Told me to tell you he’s available if you want the lowdown.”
Not answering, Jax strode out to the balcony. Yanking out his cell phone, he hit a coded key and connected with one of his longtime associates. At Jax’s curt greeting, the always cheerful Louisiana good ole boy, who was one of the most dangerous operatives Jax had worked with, drawled, “Hell, hotshot, haven’t seen you since we were chasing snakes out of the swamps in Somalia—or were those the badass human kind of reptiles called Al-Shabaab?”
Jax managed a short laugh but couldn’t bother with the niceties. “Sorry, Wayne, hate to cut to the chase, but you must know from Scottie that we’re in a hell of a mess.”
Wayne’s sigh was audible. “Shit, man, all you have to say is that somehow you’ve hooked up with none other than Viviana Moreau. A word of warning, buddy. You may think you can control her the way you do every man and woman you’ve commanded. Forget it, Jax. Give in now. Let me put it this way. Everyone who has ever worked with her falls in love with her. How could they not?” He groaned. “Jesus, man, you gotta know, that combination of sassiness, courage, and hardcore sexuality is hard to ignore. If it makes you feel better, she has the same effect on the bad guys that she does on us Dudley Do-Rights. Trust me, there’s not a perp she’s been after who survived her. For the rest of us grunts, the ones who had the privilege or misfortune of working with her, it was pure chaos. Added to a pathological inability to follow orders…Ask me, as I’m one of the saps who thought he could control her, she’s as uncontrollable as she is courageous. No one stands in her way if she sees an opportunity to go it alone. To sum it up, buddy, any guy who’s wo
rked with the Enchantress will be the first to tell you she’s a hot mess. Beautiful? Hell yeah! Sexy as fucking hell? You know it. Plan on the hardest dick you’ve had, but forget about getting relief. You’re as likely to pound nails through concrete with that righteous rod of yours as you are to pound into that sweet snatch. To this day, I’ve never heard of a guy who got to do more than beat his meat into submission, mooning after her.” His sigh was more of a groan. “Yep. Be prepared, man. Try escaping the lure of Cleopatra combined with Mata Hari in a modern version of Marilyn Monroe, and you’ll know why those of us who’ve worked with her will tell you to watch your six. Or better yet, your heart. Because, buddy, as outrageous as she is, to know her is to love her.”
At the end of a heated discussion, Jax and his team decided that the only thing they could do was to play along with the brazen Mata Hari. Given her obsessive need to fly solo, it was a given she’d resist joining a team she didn’t lead. Jax, in particular, was unwilling to do anything to expose her, including letting her know they knew who she was or who they were. After playing out various scenarios, they agreed that the best way they could protect her from the hell that was about to rain down on the cartel was for Jax to make a play for her. He knew in his gut that was the only way he could protect her from Flores. Even though Flores would be pissed as hell, Jax was certain the bastard wouldn’t take him on. After all, the cartel believed that Jax and his cohorts were about to give them access to a significant cache of sophisticated weapons few cartels had. For that fact alone, he knew that Felix Garcia and the cartel’s queen bee would knock Flores back.