Tall, Dark and Paranormal: 10 Thrilling Tales of Sexy Alpha Bad Boys

by Opal Carew

  Mad Dog opened fire like Mick had hoped, giving him the opportunity to cut through the bottom section of the chain link and pry it up and out of their way. Unfortunately, the jingle of the metal alerted Mad Dog to their real location.

  Mad Dog shot in their direction, but not before Mick had gotten a clear look to confirm where to enter the crumbling battery building. Rifle in hand, he crouched down close to the high dune. “I’m going to give you cover. When I start firing, run straight ahead. You’ll see a rusty metal door that’s hanging half-open. Go through that doorway and wait for me. Understood?”

  “Understood,” she said and at his nod, slipped around him to wait at the dune’s edge.

  “On three,” he said and counted down.

  On three Mick stood up and opened fire on Mad Dog’s position. Caterina charged ahead, straight for the opening.

  Bullets struck the ground behind her, sending up bits of dirt. She reached the door unharmed, too quick for Mad Dog to hit.

  Ducking back behind the safety of the dune, Mick took a deep breath before he began his way through the fence. He would be exposed for a few moments while he tried to fit through the opening, but there was no other choice.

  Mick ducked through and came up firing, but not before he felt the stinging burn high up on his arm.

  He ignored the heat that said he’d been hit and plowed forward to the door and past its rusty exterior to where Caterina waited for him.

  “Thank, God,” she said as he joined her.

  She laid a hand on his arm, but pulled it away immediately.

  Caterina looked down at her hand wet with his blood. “He shot you.”

  “A scratch,” he said and meant it. The bullet had only grazed his arm.

  Sensibly she didn’t argue with him. There was no turning back on this mission so it made no sense to waste time arguing or worrying.

  Mick examined the interior of the building. The white-washed cement walls were damp with water in spots, rust-stained in others, and showing extreme signs of decay. If the tunnels were in similar conditions, they would be treacherous in and of themselves. Plus he had no doubt Mad Dog would have rigged at least one booby trap in the tunnels near where he held Liliana.

  “Keep close behind me. Watch where I step. Do the same.”

  At her nod, he headed to the rusty stairs leading to the battery tunnel.

  * * *

  Fuck. I underestimated Carrera, Mad Dog thought as he picked his way across the crumbling roof to the climbing gear he had used to get up there in the first place. The interior of the building had been too uncertain to navigate.

  Mad Dog rappelled down the side of the building and onto the weed-choked ground littered with bits of rubble from the disintegrating structures. He crouched down, picking his way back to the rear entrance and the tunnel where he had stowed Carrera’s sister.

  Morales was waiting for him by the entrance, a sly smile on his face. When he approached, Morales said, “You understand what you need to do.”

  As if he hadn’t understood all along. Not to mention that he didn’t much care for people interfering in his plans. “I get it, but I don’t like your kind of insurance.”

  Morales clucked and shook his head. “You’ll thank me for the help when this is all over and you’re two million dollars richer.”

  It was only the pay raise that made him tolerate Morales’s interference. “I’d make myself scarce, Dr. Morales. It’s going to get hairy around here.”

  “I believe I’ll do as you suggest,” the other man said and walked away, heading toward the public parking lot a short distance away from the battery buildings.

  Eager for the fight, Mad Dog made sure he had a full load in his rifle and ducked into the tunnel to finish the job.

  Chapter 38

  The stairs leading up the wall barely held Mick’s weight. The rungs on the opposite side leading down into the tunnel had disintegrated beyond use. He sat on the top ledge of the wall and waited for Caterina to top the rise.

  “I’ll help you down.” When she was settled on the ledge, he turned and using his upper body strength, lowered himself down before dropping the last few feet to the ground.

  Caterina was a fast learner, copying his move and falling to the floor with little need of his assistance, reminding him of the strength that Edwards’ experimentation had produced in her.

  “Showoff,” he teased, trying to keep the mood light despite the grimness of their mission.

  “I had a good teacher,” she said and offered up a hopeful smile.

  Mick gestured to the wide vaulted tunnel before them. “Remember, step where I step. Mad Dog probably laid some traps.”

  She nodded and he cautiously entered the passageway, keeping his eyes open for signs of tracks which might either lead him toward Liliana or warn of any trip wires or other traps. He moved carefully, but not slowly since each second of delay at this point could risk his sister’s life. Caterina was sure-footed behind him, following his lead and orders like any good soldier.

  When their tunnel joined up with another one, he held up his hand and she stopped behind him. Ahead of them along the tunnel floor were tracks in the sand and dirt which had drifted in through the gaps in the walls.

  Mick flipped up the night vision goggles he had donned and resorted to using the flashlight from his belt. Sweeping the flashlight back and forth along the floor, he noted the signs that someone had been dragged down the corridor as well as the occasional darkening of the ground in spots.

  “Is that – “

  “Blood,” he finished for Caterina. A chill sweat erupted on his body at the thought of Liliana being hurt, but he reined in that reaction.

  Calm and logic had to be in control.

  He bent for a closer examination of the tracks and something gnawed at him. The tracks were deep. Deeper than he expected given Liliana’s weight.

  Keeping that in the back of his mind, he rose and entered the second tunnel, carefully following the trail left behind in the dirt and sand.

  He had not gone more than twenty or so feet when he caught the glint of something close to the ground. He held up his hand and Caterina paused behind him. Crouching down, he gingerly reached out and encountered the recognizable bite of metal – a trip wire strung across the width of the tunnel at ankle level.

  Peering beyond the trap, the area appeared clear. The drag marks continued onward as far as he could see in the darkness within the passage. About another fifteen ahead, there was more water along the tunnel floor, seeping in through breaks in the wall. A large chunk of the ceiling had collapsed and lay strewn along the ground. The tracks seemed to sweep around that debris.

  Mick glanced over his shoulder at Caterina and pointed to the booby trap. “There’s a trip wire here. Be careful as you cross.”

  She confirmed his instruction and he stepped high over the trip wire. Moved ahead just enough for Caterina to clear the booby trap as well.

  At the puddle of water and spill of debris, he hesitated again, searching for another snare, but the area was clear. He picked his way past the rubble, treading carefully. Knowing that each step brought him closer to saving a woman he loved and possibly losing a woman he loved.

  He couldn’t live with either choice.

  The momentary distraction of that thought cost him.

  The floor gave way beneath his foot a second before totally collapsing. He grabbed at the air and one hand got a temporary hold along the lip of the cement floor. His body slammed against the side of the wall in the hole into which he had fallen.

  He raised his other hand, reaching for the floor, struggling to keep from falling the rest of the way down. As he fumbled for the edge of the cement, he encountered Caterina’s hand.

  She grabbed hold of him, her grip strong and steady.

  “You okay?” she asked as she poked her head over the edge of the hole. She was lying on her stomach along the floor.

  “Could be better,” he admitted and risked a gl
ance downward. The drop to the ground was at least another ten feet or more. Too far to fall without injury, although the water at the bottom might cushion his drop.

  He was about to ask her if she could help him up when she asserted some force and slowly pulled him upward.

  As she did so, he got a better hold with his other hand and working together they lifted him out of the hole.

  “Forgot how strong you were,” he admitted once he was back on the ground and sitting beside her.

  “Another trap?” she asked and leaned over the edge of the hollow to look downward.

  Mick shook his head and joined her at the edge, peering into the deep well, examining its circumference and depth before it occurred to him what it was.

  “It’s an old Nike missile silo.” He glanced upward where a round metal hatch sat above the cavity, confirming his impression. Water dripped in from around the edges of what had likely been a gun battery during World War II.

  “I should have been more careful,” he said, angry with himself, but she laid her hand over his, the hand that had just saved him, now comforting.

  “You’ve been careful, but you can count on me to help.”

  He could. She was level-headed. Strong as she had just proven. Not to mention the camo thing.

  “I won’t forget that again, Cat. When it comes down to the fight – “

  “I’ll be there,” she reassured with a gentle squeeze of his hand.

  “Roger. Let’s head out,” he said and stood, careful to skirt the edges of the missile silo. Even more vigilant as they neared the end of the tunnel and the rusted metal door which he assumed would lead to the ammo storage area where Liliana was being held.

  Mick paused at the door and signaled Caterina to take a spot by the opposite wall. Dropping into a crouch, he pushed the door open a bit with the muzzle of his rifle. It groaned from the movement and produced an immediate response.

  Rapid-fire gun shots, probably from an AK-47, pinged against the metal doors, driving him back from the opening.

  Mick dropped to the ground and proceeded hand-over-hand toward the opening again. The door had remained partially open and as he remained behind its protection, he peered within the ammo room. Even in the dim light he perceived a figure strapped to a chair in the center of the space.

  Dead center.

  Another burst of gunfire sounded against the metal of the door and ricocheted back into the room, driving him back as he considered how to breach the area safely.

  Mick judged the barrage of bullets to have come from the right side of the room.

  He couldn’t enter without exposing himself or Liliana to danger.

  Looking toward Caterina, he said, “No matter what, stay put.”

  Before she could respond, he crawled back toward the opening and called out, “This isn’t much fun, is it, Mad Dog?”

  Mad Dog answered with another volley from the AK.

  He cursed beneath his breath, but forged ahead with his plan. “Getting soft on me, Mad Dog? Too scared for a little mano-a-mano? Might be more interesting than just wasting ammo.”

  The scuff of a foot on cement sounded loudly in the room. “Scared, Carrera? Mano-a-mano it is,” Mad Dog said.

  A shadow became visible, falling against Liliana’s feet as she sat in the chair. A clatter followed as a clip for an AK hit the ground beside the chair.

  Mick rose from the ground, but remained behind the protection of the door. Releasing the clip on the M16, he tossed it close to the chair as well.

  “Now this is going to be fun,” Mad Dog said and stepped into Mick’s line of sight. He had no doubt the other man had at least another gun somewhere on his body, but for now, the AK was useless and to further prove it, Mad Dog dropped it to the ground by the chair.

  Mick rose and set the rifle against the door, close to where Caterina stood and removed his satchel. He placed it beside the rifle, and pointed to it, hoping she would remember there was a spare clip inside the bag.

  With a last glance at her, Mick entered the ammo room and faced Mad Dog as he stood several feet away from Liliana, who was strapped to a chair in the shadows. Despite the lack of light there, he could see the darker stains of blood on the front of her shirt and the way her head lolled back at an awkward angle.

  Fear gripped him followed by anger.

  Killing anger.

  “You promised to let her go if I brought you Shaw,” Mick said, fists clenched at his side.

  Mad Dog chuckled and shook his head. “So where is Shaw?”

  “She’s outside, waiting in the tunnel for the exchange.”

  Mad Dog laughed again, louder than before. “Perfect. I’m going to have fun letting you watch what I do to your two ladies.”

  Somehow Mick tempered his killing anger, marshaling it for when the time was right because he would exterminate Mad Dog today. It had been a long time coming, but this vendetta would end this night.

  “Bring it on,” Mick said.

  Chapter 39

  Mad Dog copied Mick’s stance, hands held up loosely, feet braced slightly apart. Ready for any attack or defense.

  They approached each other, anticipating the other’s movements. Feinting and challenging until Mad Dog finally pressed forward with an attack, shooting out with a drop kick which Mick blocked with his arm.

  Mick fell back, bouncing on the balls of his feet. Waiting for another attack as he played his own version of rope-a-dope, understanding Mad Dog well. Mad Dog thought himself invincible. Never a good trait.

  Mad Dog charged him time and time again, unleashing flurries of kicks and punches which Mick repeatedly blocked, waiting for his moment. His arms and legs ached from Mad Dog’s blows, but the pain was minor compared to how Mad Dog would feel when Mick finally engaged him.

  Mick ducked another drop kick, but Mad Dog surprised him by following up with flying roundhouse kick that caught him across the side of the head. Staggered for a moment, he intentionally let down his guard, inviting Mad Dog closer.

  The other man accepted, charging in for the kill.

  * * *

  Mick had told her to stay put, but Caterina couldn’t keep on listening to the sounds of battle within the room, unaware of whether Mick was dead or alive.

  As she neared the door, she stepped on the satchel by her foot and realized why he had left it behind.

  She bent, opened the bag, and removed the clip. Forced herself to remember how Mick had loaded the gun and locked the clip home.

  As she walked to the door, the white of her hand against the rifle stock shocked her. It was the white of the tunnel walls. Prompted by her fear for Mick, she had gone all camo.

  It was what might make a difference in today’s outcome.

  Caterina placed the rifle down as she quickly disrobed, even down to removing the Kevlar vest Mick had insisted she wear.

  Her body was the same mottled white as the walls and as she entered the room, rifle in hand, neither of the two men noticed her entry.

  They were grappling together to one side of the room.

  Mick delivered an upper cut to the other man’s midsection, doubling him over then following-up with another blow that lifted Mad Dog’s body from the ground with the force of it. The blow made a sickening crunch as bones broke.

  With Mad Dog doubled over, Mick brought his elbow down across the back of the man’s neck.

  Mad Dog crumpled to the ground, his body limp at Mick’s feet.

  Mick slowly stood upright, bloodied fists clenched at his sides as he glanced down at his opponent. His body heaving as he sucked in breaths heavy from his physical exertions.

  Believing the battle concluded, she dropped the rifle, drawing Mick’s attention, although he peered with confusion at where she stood, obviously not seeing her.

  Heavy pounding footsteps sounded as something big lumbered across the room and plowed into Mick, sending him crashing into the opposite wall with a bone-rattling blow.

  Mick’s head rebounded against
the wall and as he sagged to the ground, a trail of blood marked his fall to the ground.

  Caterina drew in a shocked breath, earning the attention of the one man left standing.

  Santiago.

  She remembered him now from the medical facility. Remembered him fighting with another man the night Wells had been murdered.

  Santiago searched out the sound and she reached down, picked up the rifle once again. She shifted toward the shadows, wanting to maintain the element of surprise since she didn’t think she was much of a match for the large hulking man.

  As she did so, Mad Dog stirred, coming to his knees as he shook his head, as if to toss off his dizziness.

  Mad Dog snared Santiago’s attention, who plodded over and stood there, waiting for Mad Dog to rise.

  Once he was upright, Mad Dog stared past the tattooed brute to where Mick sat unconscious against the far wall.

  Mad Dog put his hands on his hips and chastised the hulking man. “Hope you didn’t kill him, big guy. That would spoil all the fun.”

  Shit, Caterina thought, tightening her grip on the rifle. Hoping she wouldn’t have to use it because . . .

  Santiago surged forward and grabbed Mad Dog around the neck. Snapped it with one swift twist.

  Mad Dog fell to the ground, only this time he wouldn’t be getting up. His head rested at an unnatural angle against the floor as his sightless eyes stared toward her.

  A moan came from across the room. Mick was beginning to stir.

  Santiago noticed immediately.

  The big man took a step toward Mick, clearly intending to finish him off, but Caterina couldn’t let that happen.

  She pounded the wall with the butt of the rifle, drawing Santiago’s attention away from Mick.

  The massive man turned in her direction, immensely muscled arms open wide to draw someone into their deadly embrace. The broad width of his chest providing a huge target. The proverbial side of a barn.