Hot Protector: A Hostile Operations Team Novel - Book 10

by Lynn Raye Harris

  She swallowed. “No.”

  “I’ll do the driving.”

  Her heart thumped. She didn’t like the idea of waiting in the car while he went and stole a package. She also didn’t like the idea that Sergei Turov was out there, watching and waiting. What if he had the same idea Chase had? What if his guys were planning to intercept the van before it reached Tyler’s building?

  But why would they do that? They didn’t know she was here, or that Chase was with her—unless maybe they did. It was certainly possible by now, even if Turov hadn’t recognized her on the plane.

  Sophie shuddered as she thought of the way his gaze had met hers. So cold. So cruel. She would hate to be at his mercy.

  Sophie scanned the traffic, the people on the sidewalks, inside the cars that passed, and her blood rushed through her veins. She kept expecting to see something out of the ordinary, something that indicated they’d been found, but there was nothing. It was a normal day in a busy city, and everyone had somewhere to go.

  There was also no sign of the delivery van as the minutes passed.

  “Talk to me, Kid,” Chase said, the sudden growl of his voice making her jump. “Where’s the vehicle?”

  His fingers curled around the wheel as he listened to whatever the man on the other end was saying. “Fuck, that’s not good. … Yeah, nothing to do but wait.”

  “What?” she asked, her pulse throbbing.

  He gave her a look. “Accident on the route. The van’s delayed.”

  “Can we go find it?”

  He shook his head. “Too risky. We could get caught in traffic and our escape route cut off. Not to mention I’d have to physically restrain the driver—that would get us noticed, and not in a good way. The reason we’re here is because this is the best stop to obtain the package undetected.”

  Sophie nibbled her lip. “I hate this,” she said after another minute went by. “I hate being so close and not knowing if we’ll succeed. What if Sergei Turov has the same plan? He’ll be somewhere nearby, waiting like we are.”

  “Yeah, he will. This is the best spot to take the package from before it gets delivered.” He tapped the steering wheel. “The vehicle’s ten minutes behind schedule. Shit, this is not good. Any sign that Open Sky is in the database, Kid?”

  The man on the phone must have replied because Chase raked a hand through his hair. “Yeah, I understand. Let’s just hope that if they are, the script keeps them busy.”

  A car suddenly appeared on the passenger side, headlights flashing as the driver warned them they were blocking his driveway. Sophie jumped and Chase swore, but he put the car in gear and moved out of the spot. The other car—a Peugeot—whipped into traffic and accelerated past them at a wide spot in the road, but not before the driver laid on the horn.

  “Yeah, yeah, buddy. I get it.” Chase nodded toward a glass-and-steel structure as they passed. “That’s the office building.”

  It was across from a block of residential buildings, but none of it was familiar. That was a good thing because it meant they weren’t too close to Tyler’s apartment. Chase went up the boulevard, then turned and circled back.

  “Thanks, Kid,” he said to the guy on the phone. Then he glanced at her. “Van’s on the move again. Ten more minutes.”

  It took a few more minutes, but Chase found another spot for the car, this time beyond the office building. He left the engine running and unclipped his seat belt as he turned to her.

  “I’m going to walk back toward the office. The van will be here soon. I’ll get the package and be right back. Don’t do anything. Don’t move. Don’t scream. Don’t get out of the fucking car. If something goes wrong, climb over the seat and drive. Don’t stop until you reach the airport.”

  He took another phone out of his pocket, a burner he’d picked up for France. “There’s a number programmed in here. Call it when you reach the airport and Hawk will answer. He’ll get you home.”

  She suddenly wanted to kiss him, but she didn’t dare. Instead, she took the phone and squeezed his hand. “Be safe, Chase.”

  It wasn’t quite what she wanted to say, but she was very aware of the man on the other end of the line.

  He gave her a grin, then leaned forward and kissed her cheek. It was brief, but it sizzled into her like he’d touched her much more intimately.

  “It’ll be okay, babe. This thing is almost over.”

  The weight of the pistol tucked into the shoulder holster was reassuring, as was the weight of the ankle holster and the knife at his belt. Chase didn’t want to use any of them, but he was prepared if he needed to. He picked up a freebie city paper from a stand near the office building entrance and continued down the street before taking a seat on a bench and opening the paper.

  The van rolled up the street toward him, the carrier logo emblazoned on its sides. Chase scanned his surroundings, looking for anything out of the ordinary. There were people on the sidewalks, but no one seemed to be loitering. Cars moved along the road, brakes squealing and horns honking to signal the displeasure of the drivers.

  Across the boulevard, a white car rolled two wheels up onto the median and parked, obviously too frustrated to find another—a legal—spot. The metal posts spaced at regular intervals meant that no car could get into the median, but there was clearly enough room for this guy to get out of traffic and piss off a whole lot of others while he did so.

  The van passed Chase’s spot, gears grinding as the driver slowed to pull into the loading zone in front of the building. Across the street, the doors to the white car opened and two men got out.

  One of them was Sergei Turov.

  “Son of a bitch,” Chase said into his earpiece as he stood and started for the van. “Company’s here.”

  “Goddammit,” Billy said. “The accident gave them time to defeat the script.”

  Inside the van, Chase could hear the bulkhead door rolling up as the driver prepared to grab the packages he needed. Chase would have preferred to let the driver enter the building, but that wasn’t going to happen now. He had to get the package before Turov and his companion managed to cross the street.

  Thankfully, traffic was zipping along because the light at the intersection up ahead was green. Turov and the other guy couldn’t just run across the street without risking being hit, so they hung at the edge of the median, waiting to sprint across as soon as possible.

  Chase dropped the paper as he reached the open door of the vehicle. He put his hand on the inside of his jacket and took the steps up into the van. The driver was inside the cargo area with a dolly, putting packages on it and checking his handheld scanner. He looked up in surprise when Chase appeared.

  There was no time to lose. The man broke into a stream of French, but Chase drew his weapon and the words ceased as the driver’s hands shot skyward.

  “Sorry, dude,” Chase said. “I just need one thing. I’m not going to hurt you.”

  He advanced into the cargo area. The 1000 shelf was to the left just like Billy had said. A quick scan along that shelf and he spotted a small padded envelope addressed to Tyler Nash. He grabbed it and sprinted off the van just as Turov and the other man came around the back.

  The Audi wasn’t far, but he had to get to it, get onto the driver’s side, which was the traffic side, and get into his seat without getting hit by the cars rushing by. Then he had to whip the car into traffic. It was a lot to do before Turov and the other man caught up. His other choice was to keep running, to lead them away from Sophie and escape through the alleys and side streets.

  But that would mean leaving Sophie vulnerable. Sending her to the airport to call Hawk was a last resort, not without risks of its own. It might be her best chance, however.

  He had almost decided that was the best option when the Audi’s passenger door flew open. His heart nearly dropped to his toes. If she got out now—

  But the car lurched suddenly, backing into the car behind it and then moving forward again, its nose inching out into traffic.r />
  Fuck!

  Chase put on a last burst of speed. He threw himself into the passenger seat, turning to fire behind him as Turov and the other man approached. He didn’t aim to kill, not here in the open with so many people, but he did intend to disable.

  His shot must have winged the companion because he stumbled and fell to the ground, his palms coming out in an attempt to save himself. He rolled, screaming in pain, as Turov ducked into the protection of a doorway.

  “Go!” Chase yelled at Sophie as she worked the car out of the slot.

  “There’s too much traffic!”

  “I don’t fucking care! Floor it!”

  He yanked the passenger door closed just as something thunked into it. Turov peered around the corner and fired again. Chase ducked just in time as the bullet shattered the glass and then passed out through the windshield, leaving a round hole.

  “Go!” he yelled again, firing back at Turov. The man on the sidewalk was crawling toward the door where Turov hid. Police sirens sounded in the distance and Chase’s blood chilled. They had to get out of there before the police arrived. Before Turov succeeded in hitting one of them.

  Turov ducked out of the door again, raising his weapon. Chase took aim, intending to drop the son of a bitch—but he was thrown back into the seat when Sophie careened into traffic suddenly. Brakes squealed and horns sounded, but she hit the pedal and the car picked up speed, accelerating away from the scene.

  Chase looked back to see Turov running out into the street. The bastard wanted a clear shot so he could take out the driver—

  “Turn, now,” Chase ordered as Turov’s arm came up.

  “It’s a one-way street—”

  “Turn, goddammit it!”

  28

  Sophie’s heart felt like it was going to burst from her chest, but she whipped the car into oncoming traffic and prayed they didn’t crash. Drivers laid on horns, but they swerved out of the way. She kept going down the street, saying, “Sorry, so sorry, oh my God,” the whole way.

  “Turn here,” Chase ordered.

  She cranked the wheel, turning the car to the right and onto a street where they were now going in the right direction. Her heart still hadn’t slowed, however. The window beside his head was shattered, a big gaping hole with jagged glass hanging from it.

  And then there was the bullet hole in the windshield. It had come in at an angle and passed low, but it was almost perfectly in front of her. If that had hit her… Oh God.

  “Pull over.”

  “Are you crazy? We have to keep going.”

  “Turov is on foot, the police are coming, and even if he did get to his car, he’s facing the opposite direction. It won’t take long for us to switch places.”

  Sophie swallowed the knot in her throat. Her hands were shaking and her heart thrumming—maybe it was better if she let him drive. She found a spot and pulled over. Her legs were rubber as she got out of the car and ran around to get in the passenger seat.

  “Watch the glass,” Chase ordered as she pulled the door closed.

  She snatched at the seat belt, buckling it in place while Chase did the same. And then they were accelerating down the street, whipping through traffic at a breakneck pace. They hit a roundabout, spinning through it and out the other side while Sophie clung to the door handle.

  “We have to get rid of the car,” Chase said.

  “Okay.” As if she would argue that.

  He glanced at her, and she realized he was talking to his guy on the other end of the line. “Can Hawk get me something else? Or do I need to borrow a car?”

  She didn’t like the way he said borrow. Clearly it was a loose term meaning he would have to steal a car. She hoped he didn’t. It was bad enough she’d performed a hit-and-run on someone else’s bumper. Crossing over into grand theft auto was just a bit much.

  Sophie spied the padded envelope on the floor and snatched it up. When she turned it over, relief coursed through her at the familiar handwriting. Chase shot her a grin as she clutched it to her chest.

  “Told you,” he mouthed.

  “Thanks,” she mouthed back.

  He’d done it. He’d gotten her to Paris, retrieved the package, and they were still in one piece. But it wasn’t over yet. She knew that much. First they had to get to the safe house, and then they had to hope there was information they could use on the flash drive. Information that would stop Grigori from harming anyone else.

  “Copy that,” Chase said. “Heading for the rendezvous point now. Will send over the information as soon as we reach shelter.”

  It took about two hours to reach the safe house in Montmartre. First, they had to ditch the car, which they’d done in a garage in the financial district. The garage attendant hadn’t even blinked an eye when they’d driven inside. Obviously on Hawk’s payroll, or at least paid well enough to turn a blind eye when the time came.

  A BMW had been waiting for them. Chase transferred all their gear to it in a flash, wiped down the Audi for prints, and then jumped into the Bimmer and took off. He’d taken a circuitous route across Paris, always looking in the rearview for pursuers. But there were none, and he’d finally started to relax. He found the new building, parked the car on the street because that’s all that was available, and then he and Sophie took everything into the building.

  This apartment was on the top floor too, but there was no elevator, only five floors of narrow stairs. This place was smaller than the last, mustier, which meant it wasn’t used often. It was a studio with a kitchenette, a small bed, and a balcony. Unlike the last place, it lacked an exciting view even though it was on a quiet street.

  Chase took out the secure laptop and booted it up. Then he took the package from Sophie and ripped it open. The flash drive was in a little Bubble Wrap pouch. He unfolded it and took it out. It was a black cylinder, perfectly ordinary looking.

  Sophie twisted her fingers together as he inserted the drive into the USB port. Then he opened up the file manager to reveal the files on the drive.

  “They’re in Russian,” Sophie said. He could hear the disappointment in her voice, the fear.

  He tapped some keys. “We expected this. The software on this computer can copy the contents, including hidden folders, and then I’ll send everything to Hawk. Kid will decrypt it.”

  “How long will it take?” she asked.

  “Hours maybe. Or days. Open Sky isn’t a group of amateurs. Their code is pretty sophisticated.”

  “Days?”

  He looked up at her, at the worried expression she wore, and his heart kicked. “We have the information now, Sophie. That’s a step in the right direction—and the Kid is good at what he does, honest. If the delivery van hadn’t been delayed back there, Turov wouldn’t have caught up to us. He’d have come along after we left and found nothing.”

  “It was close, Chase.”

  “It was. But we’re here and we have the flash drive.”

  He picked up his phone, dialed Hawk, and informed him the files were on the way.

  “I’ve got you on a private jet,” Hawk said. “I’ll text over the details, but the flight’s at four a.m. Leave the car with the weapons in the trunk. Long-term parking.”

  “Copy,” Chase said, rubbing his temples. Not quite twelve hours away. They talked for a few more minutes and then he hung up. For the first time in hours, he felt like he could breathe again. He’d gotten the flash drive, Sophie was safe, and they were on their way home soon.

  He ejected the flash drive from the USB port and pocketed it, then stood and shrugged out of his jacket. He unstrapped the weapons and laid them on the table. When he took in the hunted look in Sophie’s gaze, he dragged her into his arms, squeezing her tight.

  She squeezed him back.

  “Sorry for the scare today,” he told her, his lips against her hair.

  “Are you mad because I disobeyed you?”

  He tilted her head back until he could look into her eyes. “I’m not happy about it. Bu
t you reacted to the situation and got us out of there. It’s over now.”

  “I saw you jump out of the van, and then I saw Turov coming after you—I almost stayed in my seat, but it occurred to me that for you to go around the car and try to get inside with oncoming traffic would give them the chance to catch up.”

  “Yeah, it would have.”

  “So I threw open the door and climbed over the console. I knew you’d be mad, but I had no choice.”

  “I’m pissed you risked it—but it worked, so I’m going to get over it. But Sophie…”

  “Yes?”

  “You got lucky. Next time, do exactly as I tell you. I wasn’t going to lead Turov to you. I would have kept going, and you could have safely driven away.”

  Her eyes widened, her fingers curling in his shirt. “You would have left me there alone?”

  “It was the safest option. Yeah, I would have left you there alone. You would have driven to the airport like I told you and called Hawk. He’d have gotten you out.”

  She clung to him tighter. “Then I’m glad I didn’t do what you said. I’m glad we’re here together.”

  Jesus, she did something to him. Something that twisted his guts into knots and made his heart ache. He dipped his head and kissed her. He only meant to kiss her, but of course it didn’t end there. Touching Sophie was like touching a match to gasoline. The flame was inevitable.

  He stripped her quickly, and then he was inside her, moving hard and fast and taking them both to the edge of pleasure. When it was over, when she was limp and sated on the bed, her eyes drowsy with slumber, he got up and dragged on his jeans.

  Her gaze instantly sharpened. “What are you doing?”

  “Protecting you, Sophie. Go to sleep. I’ll keep watch.”

  29

  Chase awoke with a start, straining his eyes in the darkness to make out where he was. He heard traffic below and remembered they were in Montmartre. Sophie slept beside him, her naked body lush and warm. He sat up, stretching.

  He’d stayed awake earlier, watching over Sophie until she’d awakened and they’d ordered takeout. They’d eaten and talked, and then Sophie had dropped to her knees and shown him another side of pleasure with her. It was the first time she’d sucked him, and he’d loved the sight of it.