by Donna Grant
The news was going from bad to worse. Owen watched Simon run his hand through his hair yet again, a nervous tick. He then asked, “Can you make an antidote?”
“If I had a few years,” Simon answered acerbically. He pointed into his lab behind him. “None of you seem to understand what is sitting in there.”
Owen took a few steps closer to Simon. “We know exactly how potentially dangerous it is. What we need to know is what went into designing such a weapon, and how it might be used.”
“I … I don’t have those answers.” Simon shook his head as he dropped his arms to his sides. “I’d have to do extensive tests. As it is, I’ve put this entire campus in jeopardy by analyzing the vial without the proper containment protocols in place.”
“You wore a hazard suit, gloves, and a mask,” Natalie said.
Simon waved away her words. “I don’t know if the liquid is supposed to be administered by ingestion, touch, or through the air. I’d need—”
“To do more tests,” Owen said over him. “We understand.”
Simon moved against the wall and pointed to the vial through the door. “Please, take that and leave.”
Natalie gathered the papers while Owen collected the weapon and tube. He walked from the lab and checked the hall for the men.
“Thank you, Emily,” Natalie said while stuffing the papers in her purse.
Emily smiled and gave her a quick hug. “Stay safe. And let me know if I can help with anything else.”
“You’ve done enough.” Owen looked to Simon. “Both of you. Thank you.”
He handed the container to Natalie, who put it in her purse. Natalie then looked up, giving him a nod that she was ready.
“How do we get out of here?” she asked.
He motioned to the map of the building on the door. “See those exits?”
“Yep. And we’re parked here,” she said, pointing to the parking lot.
“If we encounter the men, and I tell you to run, make your way through the building and around to the truck.”
She flattened her lips. “Wish I’d known this earlier. I could’ve been studying a map of the campus.”
“All you need to know is this building. Look at the map. Remember where the exits are.”
He gave her a few seconds to put it to memory. Then Owen opened the door and peered first one way, then the other. Natalie was right behind him when he exited the lab.
Though he wouldn’t say it aloud, he was ready to kick some Russian ass.
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
Natalie’s stomach was a ball of nerves. It churned viciously to the point where she thought she might be sick. Fear gripped her in its iron fist, refusing to loosen its hold as they walked down the stairs.
Right toward the assassins.
“Remember the exits,” Owen said.
“That’s only if we run into the men.” Then she understood. They would definitely be facing off with the assholes.
“If they approach us outside, run to the truck.” He handed her the keys.
Truck. He wanted her to go to the truck. Right. She could do that.
While he fought the men.
The same ones who’d tried to kill her.
The same faction who’d murdered Virgil and Charlotte.
The same group who’d kidnapped Orrin and killed his team.
Natalie kept her gaze straight ahead. It was everything she could do to put one foot in front of the other. For the first time, she truly understood the whole “fight or flight” thing.
Because she fought the urge to turn and run the other way.
Owen was confident they would get away. There was no reason for her not to think he was right. Except for the whole Russians-wanting-to-kill-her thing. And to think, she’d lobbied to talk to Irina Matveev.
She inwardly shook her head. What had she been thinking? Being with Owen gave her false bravado, but the reality was right before her. And she was scared shitless.
Her eyes locked on Owen’s fine ass as he walked ahead of her. He fought with conviction and confidence, knowing he would win. Not once had he shown an ounce of fear.
It made her wonder how many people he’d saved as a SEAL. How many times had he been in such scenarios where he had to get past others trying to kill him?
Probably too many to count. But he was still standing. He was the one beside her.
She took a deep breath, her terror easing its smothering hold. All she had to do was follow his instructions to get to the truck. The rest would be on him.
Her hand went to the strap of her purse. It was up to her to ensure that no one got their hands on Ragnarok. Her chin lifted. She could do this.
She would do this.
As they passed a hallway, she glanced up and saw the cameras. They were everywhere. Not to mention people about campus. And lest she forget, the men after them most likely had weapons. All of it pointed to the possibility of Owen getting hurt.
Owen was an imposing individual with his wide shoulders, intense stare, and don’t-fuck-with-me manner. His upbringing made him strong, honorable, and resilient.
His years in the SEALs had tempered him like a piece of steel. There was a fierceness that hadn’t been there before. A savage, brutal side honed in war.
It was in his walk, in the way he thought. In his very being. He was a warrior through and through. A man who fought for his country and his family without hesitation or thought for himself.
That’s who had saved her from the Russian assassins.
That’s who was going to get her safely back to the ranch.
He halted at the doors of the science building and turned to her. “Get to the truck while I hold them off.”
“Do you want my pistol?”
He gave a shake of his head.
She kept forgetting that Owen was a weapon. But he still couldn’t stop a bullet.
“Look around. We’re in a public place. They’re going to have to watch themselves not to bring attention.”
She gave a nod he was expecting. “Right.”
“Ready?” he asked.
She might not have seen pictures of Orrin’s team being executed. She hadn’t seen the men surrounding her mother’s house before Owen came for her.
But one of the brutes had gotten his hands on her. They had killed Virgil and Charlotte.
They had orders to kill her.
The group would do whatever it took to find the vial. That meant the odds of someone getting injured—or even killed—were elevated no matter how highly trained Owen was.
She’d felt safe on the ranch. Ever since they’d left, she’d been looking over her shoulder, waiting for the men to find her.
There was nothing like having your life threatened to put things into perspective. Like admitting what she craved.
Years ago, Owen had walked away without explanation. It didn’t matter what had intertwined their lives again. He was risking his life to protect her instead of finding his father.
Life could be snuffed out so easily. She wasn’t going to walk out those doors until she gave in to what her heart desired most.
She grabbed his shirt with both hands. He frowned down at her, his chocolate gaze searching hers. Before she changed her mind, she pressed her lips against his.
In the next heartbeat, his arms wound around her, holding her firmly. He slanted his lips over hers. She might have begun it, but he quickly took over.
He groaned and deepened the kiss. The taste of him was erotic. Her body came alive in an instant, opening and readying—for him. Her breasts swelled, aching for his touch. Her sex throbbed with need as her blood heated.
It was her turn to moan when his hand delved into her hair, gripping it to hold her head still as the kiss heated. Excitement burned through her.
His large hands ran down her back to her waist and hips before he pulled her against him. His arousal pressed into her stomach, causing passion to sizzle through her.
The kiss turned fiery, scorching her with
the hunger she tasted—and felt. He was everything she’d ever wanted. This was what they were supposed to be. Owen was always supposed to be her happy ending.
Was it fate that sent them on different paths only to bring them together again?
He ended the kiss and looked down at her with tenderness and passion. “Don’t pull back now. Not after that.” His gaze dropped to her lips. “I missed your kisses and your taste.”
She ran her hands over his thick shoulders, unwilling to talk. He wanted what she couldn’t give, and she couldn’t tell him that now.
“Don’t think. Feel what’s between us. It’s swallowing me whole, Nat, and I can’t be going down that road alone.”
She pulled out of his arms, but he didn’t let her get far. He cupped her cheek. A heartbeat later, he dropped his arms and faced the exit.
Then he pushed open the doors without another word about the kiss or his desires. They strode out of the building side by side. She spotted the Taurus’s car doors open, and two Russians unfolding their large frames from the vehicle. They stood tall and daunting with their gazes locked on her and Owen.
Owen gave her hand a squeeze for encouragement. “Let them get close.”
Pretending not to know the men were walking their way, she and Owen continued toward the truck. The closer they got to the vehicle, the better she felt. Until she saw another man come around the truck.
He was taller than the others, with sandy blond hair and black eyes. She imagined he was cut from granite, there were so many bulging muscles.
While her steps faltered, Owen’s didn’t. He kept walking as if nothing was out of the ordinary. “Can I help you?” Owen asked the third man.
He smiled coldly and jerked his square chin to the building. “You had a long visit.”
She’d hoped the man was just someone from the campus, but the Russian accent put a vicious, brutal end to that. She looked around to find they were alone with the men.
“Stay calm,” Owen mumbled under his breath.
She almost snorted at the absurdity of his comment. There was nothing relaxed about the situation, or any way for her to remain that way since she’d never been calm to begin with.
She’d been on pins and needles since she saw Ragnarok mentioned in the report. Calm seemed as far away as the moon at the moment.
“And what business is it of yours?” Owen asked as he came to a halt ten feet from the truck.
She stopped beside him, her heart thumping so loudly she was sure everyone could hear. She glanced behind her and saw the other two men closing in.
“Do not play innocent,” the giant stated with a warning look in her direction. “Give us what we want. Perhaps then the Saints will allow your father to live.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Owen replied.
The mention of the Saints caught her attention. She didn’t have time to think more on it as her attention shifted to Owen when he gave her hand a squeeze. He didn’t seem deterred by the giant or his questions.
“Ragnarok. Give it.”
Owen threw out his hands before letting his arms fall to his sides. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. What is Ragnarok? Is that why my father went missing?”
She wanted to applaud. She was so thrilled at how easily Owen turned the questions on the man and made himself look innocent and ignorant of the facts at the same time.
But it infuriated the giant. His face went red and his lips twisted. “Three sons were brought to Texas.”
Owen nodded slowly. “Our aunt and uncle were killed, and our father is missing. Obviously, you had something to do with that.”
With eight little words, Owen’s entire attitude changed. He went from unassuming to hardline. The change happened while he spoke, shocking even the giant.
The smile that Owen wore was cold and deadly. “I’ve been waiting for you.”
That was her cue. She took a few stumbling steps back as Owen rushed the giant. She chanced a look over her shoulder to see the other two men rush to help their comrade.
It was a melee of fists, elbows, kicks, and grunts. The crunch of bone echoed in her ears. She gave Owen and the giant a wide berth.
Owen was quick, and his punches landed accurately, but the Russian was a good foot taller with an extended reach. She winced when the giant’s fist connected with Owen’s face.
The other two joined in on the fight. She wanted to help, but she wouldn’t be any use. She wrapped her hands around the grip of the pistol in her purse. But she didn’t draw it.
Instead, she raced toward the truck as Owen had told her to do, clicking the unlock button on the key fob. She threw open the door and jumped inside. Only then did she look toward Owen to see him holding his own against the three big Russians.
To her surprise, the sound of sirens rang in the air. The men broke apart, and without a word, they rushed to their respective vehicles.
Natalie started the engine and drove toward Owen, who hopped in with the vehicle still rolling.
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
Sklad …
Yuri stormed into the room with a red face, radiating anger that nearly made Orrin smile. He watched Yuri from his position on the floor, leaning back against the wall. The subsequent beating was worth his lie.
“There was no package delivered to Mitch Hewett!” Yuri bellowed.
Orrin held Yuri’s gaze for a long, silent minute. “Even if you asked Hewett himself, he wouldn’t tell you. This is the Pentagon, stariy droog.”
“How do you think we knew you were coming to Russia?”
That stopped him. He’d suspected, but to actually have it confirmed left him furious. And cold. There was a traitor in Mitch’s office. Orrin somehow had to let Mitch know so he could get it taken care of.
If Orrin got away from Yuri. The likelihood of that happening was dwindling quickly. If he couldn’t contact Mitch, he would have to find a way to leave clues for his sons. They would be the ones to ferret out the mole and bring him before Mitch.
It wouldn’t make up for the execution of his team or Virgil’s and Charlotte’s murders, but it would help. It was really too bad that he wouldn’t be there to help his boys.
“You have nothing to say?”
He was really tired of hearing the Russian accent butcher his language. “You could be lying. Why spend time arguing with you?”
“Because you know I speak truth. I could tell you who told me.” Yuri’s lips turned up in a triumphant smile.
“I sent the vial to Mitch Hewett,” Orrin repeated. He had to wonder why no one mentioned the formula. Did Yuri not know about it? That was certainly a possibility.
Yuri motioned his men out. He glowered at Orrin until they were alone. “It was a nice try, stariy droog. I have men ready to take out one of your sons. By now they have him.”
“Good luck with that.”
That drew Yuri up short. “It is one man against three.”
“It could be thirty, and it still wouldn’t matter.” He smiled until he felt the wound open on his lip. “Your men are no match for any of my sons.”
“We will see about that. I wonder if you will sit so confident when you listen to the screams of your offspring as he dies,” Yuri said and held up his cell phone.
Orrin held his smile until the door closed behind Yuri. Then he released a breath and raised his eyes to the ceiling. “God, I know you and I haven’t been on speaking terms since Melanie died, but these are my sons. I’ve already lost my wife, my brother, and my sister-in-law. Please don’t take my sons, as well. Please. Watch over them.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
Owen was happy to be back at the ranch. He’d take the truck and hide it again later, but for now, he wanted Natalie in the base where the Russians couldn’t get her.
She’d driven the entire way back, silent with both hands on the wheel. He hadn’t disturbed her solitude, mainly because he was pissed at having had a chance at the group and not taking any of them out
.
Then again, he hadn’t expected the third man. The Russians landed punches with the force of a wrecking ball. He tested his jaw, amazed it wasn’t broken.
The mention of the Saints also had him on edge. He sent a quick text to Callie to see if she’d discovered anything yet, but it wasn’t coincidence this was the second time they’d come across that name.
They needed to find out the link between the Saints and Ragnarok—and quickly.
When the truck pulled up at the ranch, Natalie parked it in front of the house. She cut the engine and sat there.
“You did good,” he told her.
She swiveled her head to him. “They could’ve killed you.”
“And I could’ve killed them. We got away.”
“They’ll know we came back here.”
He looked at the house. “We’re going to go inside and turn on some lights. Then I’m going to sneak you into the barn and down to the base. After I know you’re there, I’m going to take the truck back to where it was this morning.”
Natalie opened the door and slid from the truck. He reached the porch first and held up a hand for her to wait. Only after he did a check of the house did he allow her inside. She turned on the kitchen lights while he flipped on the switch in the living room.
Almost immediately, he ushered her out the back door into the growing darkness. They kept low and ran to the barn. Within minutes, they were locked inside the base.
He decided to remain for a few hours. While the coffee brewed, he rubbed his eyes with his thumb and forefinger. It had been a long day, and it was going to be an even longer night.
Especially after another kiss from Natalie.
That had been completely unexpected. It rocked him to his core, and he yearned for more.
“You were really going to kill those men right there?” Natalie asked.
He poured coffee into two mugs and handed her one. “They think we have the bioweapon. If they get us, they get the vial. Our only choice is to be rid of them.”
“In front of anyone who happened to look out a window?”
“I was only thinking of protecting you.”
She smiled sadly and shook her head. “Don’t use me as an excuse. You wanted revenge for Virgil and Charlotte, the team, and your father.”