by Jo Davis
Glancing over her shoulder, she made a face. “Like a couple of old women. Bastian had a bad dream last night that’s got him freaked out and he’s begging Michael not to go. Of course, our resident leader is committed to this no matter what, because he wants to put an end to Dietz as quickly as possible.”
“He’s got even more reason to want that now,” Emma observed. “He’s got you and Bastian to protect.”
“That’s what scares us,” she admitted. “He’s so obsessed with Dietz, we’re afraid he’s going to ruin his health.” Or make a critical error, though she’d never say that to two of his employees behind his back. Besides, she had a feeling their friends were thinking the same thing.
In the bedroom, they found the two men arguing, clearly at a stalemate, as they stood facing each other.
“Why do you have to be the one? We’ve got at least two dozen agents available right this second who could go with Blaze to poke around and ask a few simple questions!” Bastian glared at his friend.
“Exactly!” Michael shouted. “It’s just a few questions, and there’s no need to bring anyone else in!”
“Are you forgetting I’m your CEO? I don’t work in the fucking mail room, and I get a say in this!”
“That can be remedied,” Michael snarled, and his partner paled.
Blaze dropped the duffel and stepped between them, placing a hand on each man’s chest, pushing them apart. “Whoa! Hey, guys, time out. Both of you shut up and breathe. In and out—there you go.”
The two combatants stared at each other, chests heaving in anger. Gradually, however, cooler heads prevailed and they glanced away, both appearing sorry for the argument. Michael, in particular, was ashamed.
“Bastian, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean that last remark,” he said with remorse. “You’re my right hand, and I believe we’ve already established that I couldn’t do without you.”
“Forget it.” Bastian still wouldn’t look at him.
Michael persisted. “I swear I’ll be careful.”
“Fine. Do what you want, like you always do. It’s not like I or anyone else can stop you.”
From Michael’s expression, that wasn’t what he wanted to hear. But it was all Bastian had left to say.
Blaze glanced between them and lowered his hands. “So, we’re good here? We’re gonna get down to business?” Both of his friends nodded, and he picked up the duffel, sitting it on the bed. “Great. Emma, show them what you brought for us to wear.”
The woman stepped forward, eyeing her bosses warily. “Right.” Unzipping the bag, she pulled out several articles of clothing, a wig, and a baseball cap. “I know I’m preaching to the choir here, but the main thing to remember when going incognito is that people see what they want to see. For this outing, we’re going to do some basic alteration, no heavy makeup or anything elaborate.”
They all watched as she sorted the outfits into two specific sets. Even Bastian moved closer, interested in the process.
“These are for you,” she said to Michael, gesturing to the clothes. “When I’m done with you, all anyone will see is an average street person who’s maybe a little down on his luck and could use a shower.”
“Great. I’m supposed to get my contacts to talk, not run them off,” he muttered, and everyone laughed.
Well, everyone except Bastian.
Emma shook her head. “You won’t run them off, because they’ll no doubt look just like you. Here, go put these on.” He took the clothes and disappeared into the bathroom. She turned to address her lover. “Since you’re already wearing the jeans, all you need is the rest. Take off your shirt and put these on.” She indicated the black T-shirt and matching leather jacket adorned with silver rivets.
Obediently, Blaze stripped off his shirt, and Katrina couldn’t help but admire the view. The man was ripped with muscle, more than two hundred pounds of mouthwatering male perfection. She wanted to run her fingers through all that silky black hair falling to his big shoulders. Yum.
She glanced at Bastian, and from his smirk, she realized he’d caught her looking. His grin said, Look all you want. I’ve had some of that! Impulsively, she stuck her tongue out at her lover, which only amused him more. Dammit, she was jealous.
Michael emerged from the bathroom, wearing ratty jeans with holes in the knees, a stained, yellowed T-shirt, and a plaid flannel shirt worn over it as a jacket. He went to stand beside Blaze, who’d donned the studded jacket. “How come he gets to wear the cool stuff?”
“Because it fits his persona,” Emma explained. “He’s too big and brawny to come across as a poor, little street waif, so he gets to be the badass, don’t-fuck-with-me guy.”
“I think I just got insulted.” He scowled, which made the ladies giggle. “Hey, I’ve got your little right here.”
Emma rolled her eyes. “Anyway, let’s get this wig and the ball cap on you.” Working quickly, she covered his short sable hair with the wig, transforming him into a man with shoulder-length, dirty-brown locks. With the whole outfit, topped off with the ball cap, he looked like a different man. Walking the street tonight, even his friends would be hard-pressed to spot him.
“Oh, and don’t smile,” Emma said. “Your teeth are too white and perfect for a street rat. They’ll give you away in a second.”
Standing in front of the mirror over the dresser, Michael studied himself and tried an experimental smile. “You’re right. No smiling—not that either of us will have a reason.”
“Now you.” Emma combed back Blaze’s hair and tied a black bandana over his head, gang style. A pair of silver stud earrings capped the outfit, and she stood back, eyeing him critically. “Crap.”
Blaze looked at himself. “What?”
“That getup makes you look even sexier than when we started. The idea is for you to blend, not attract every male slut and biker bimbo within twenty miles who’s looking for a hard ride.” She did not appear pleased at the prospect.
“Aww. I’m not giving rides to anyone but you, sweetness.” He gave her a smooch on the lips, which seemed to placate her.
“He won’t blend, but I seriously doubt anyone’s going to mess with him,” Bastian pointed out. “Not if they don’t want their asses kicked.”
“I think we’re ready.” Michael looked at Blaze. “Which car did you bring?” SHADO had a garage stocked with cars they used for undercover ops. Most of them had been confiscated from criminals during busts.
“The old blue Chevy. Looks like a rattletrap, but she’s a beast under the hood.”
“That’ll do. Let’s get out there and see what we can learn.”
Blaze busied himself with giving Emma a heated good-bye. Michael walked over to Katrina and Bastian, held open his arms. She walked into them, but noticed that their other lover stayed off to the side, face turned away. Michael kissed her thoroughly, giving her a promise of delights to come. He pulled back and gave her a small smile, eyes shadowed.
“I’ll be home before you even miss me.”
“Too late. I already do.” She stroked his cheek with one finger. “Be careful.”
“I will.” He turned to their lover. “Bastian?”
“Good luck.” He limped from the room.
The curt dismissal cut Michael to the quick. Katrina saw the hurt in his eyes before he covered the raw emotion by giving her another quick kiss. “See you both soon, baby.”
Then he and Blaze were gone, leaving her and Emma standing in the huge vacuum created by their departure. Her friend’s husky voice was quiet.
“Love isn’t all fun and games, is it?”
“I wish. Those two are both so hardheaded, they rip each other to shreds before one of them finally gives.”
“And I thought one stubborn alpha male was a challenge. Good luck, girlfriend.”
“Gee, thanks.” She paused. “Would you like a glass of wine or two while we wait up for the guys to get back?”
“I’d love one! Maybe we can convince your blond stud to stop fre
tting and join us.”
“We can try.”
As they made their way downstairs, she attempted unsuccessfully to squelch some worry of her own. A queasy feeling settled into her gut, making her wonder whether Bastian had been right to fight Michael on tonight’s outing.
An uncomfortable inner voice whispered, Just maybe, Michael should have listened.
“Where to next?” Blaze turned the key and the Chevy roared to life, then settled into a throaty purr.
Michael rubbed his tired eyes as his friend pulled out of the parking lot next to the latest club they’d hit. Two hours, and nothing. It wouldn’t have seemed like a long time if he’d gotten any sleep lately. “Let’s see. We’ve talked to Skeeter, Dog, Snake, and Skunk. Who’s left in the zoo?”
Blaze snorted. “Lions, tigers, and bears?”
“All accounted for.”
“Then I guess that leaves all the dudes with normal names.”
“That’s a really short list. There’s Dave, Pat, and Lenny. Pick a name.”
“Pat’s hangout is the closest from here. But of the three, his tips aren’t usually as reliable,” he added thoughtfully.
“Then let’s save him for last. Let’s try Lenny. I was kind of harsh with him on the phone and I’d like to follow up in person.”
“You know, of all the snitches we use, he’s the one I don’t mind paying. That guy works hard and he’s really trying to make a go of getting out of that neighborhood.” Blaze made a right and drove down a darkened street toward the bar. “The money doesn’t go up his nose.”
“If anyone can make it, he can,” Michael agreed. In his pocket, his iPhone sang a greeting. Pulling it out, he peered at the number and blinked in surprise. “Speak of the devil.” He answered as Blaze glanced over curiously. “Lenny, what’s up? Me and a buddy were just on our way to see you, incognito.”
The younger man gave a nervous laugh. “Yeah, incognito is real good. Listen, I got something for ya. Just as well we don’t discuss it over the phone.”
“We’ll see you in ten.”
“I’ll take a break. Meet me at the employee entrance in the alley.”
“Gotcha.” Ending the call, he placed the phone back in his pocket and checked the gun hidden in the waistband of his jeans. “Lenny’s spooked.”
“How so?”
“Said to pull around back, employee entrance. He doesn’t want to be seen talking to us.” They shared a significant look.
“He’s never done that before?”
“Nope.”
Silence hung heavily in the car as they rode the rest of the way to the bar. Pulling up to the seedy establishment, Blaze steered the car around back as instructed. The alley, which accommodated regular deliveries from trucks carrying beer and liquor, was plenty wide, so he was able to pull right next to where their contact leaned against the wall.
He and Blaze got out and Michael circled the car, his gaze sweeping the entire area. A nervous contact was not a good thing, and an agent never took even the best of them for granted. When he had discerned that no one else lurked nearby, he addressed Lenny.
“What do you have for me?”
The other man pulled a scrap of paper from his jeans pocket and passed it to Michael. Who noticed how badly his hands shook. He gave Lenny a long, hard look, not liking how the man flinched under his gaze, unable to meet his eyes. The sinking sensation in his stomach was a feeling he knew all too well. Turning his attention to the paper, he held it up to catch the light from the dim bulb near the employee’s door.
“An address?”
Lenny was fidgeting with a thread on his jeans. “That guy you’re looking for? That’s where you can find him,” he said, voice quavering a bit.
Michael fought to keep calm. “Says who?”
“Just a guy. Someone who knows someone. That’s how it goes.”
“Is it?”
“Yeah.”
He let the man stew for a long minute, exchanged another glance with Blaze. His friend’s skepticism didn’t escape him. He felt the same, but what else did they have going for them?
“All right. I’m going to check this out because you’ve always been straight with me. But I’m warning you now, if you’re setting me up, you’d better pray I’m dead before this night is over. You got that?”
“Y-yeah, but I’m not. I swear.” A bead of sweat rolled down his temple.
“And if I am dead,” he continued, “you’d better pray that whatever amount of money you get paid is enough to ease your conscience for the rest of your life. You got anything else to say, Lenny?”
“N-no. I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
Pulling out his wallet, Michael dug out a hundred, grabbed Lenny’s hand, and slapped the money in his palm. “For your trouble. Take a good look at it, Lenny.” The younger man stared at the bill. “The only blood on that money will belong to the monster who killed my wife, the same bastard who’s trying to kill me and the people I love. And if I’m gone, he’ll off you, too, no matter what lie he spins for you. Remember that.”
“That’s real interesting, but you’re off base. I-I don’t have anything else, okay? See you around.”
They watched as he disappeared inside, and then returned to the car. Inside, Blaze drummed his fingers on the steering wheel. “You’re right, he’s scared. But that doesn’t mean the tip isn’t legit.”
“Do you honestly believe that?” he asked dryly.
“No. Let’s plug this address into the GPS and see what we get.”
Michael read it off while Blaze punched the information into the small, handheld unit. After a moment, the map popped up, along with the mileage. “Hell, that’s all the way across the county from here.”
“Do we check it out?”
“I don’t see what other choice we have.”
But as they drove, the tension in the vehicle increased with every mile. About twenty minutes in, Blaze pulled over in the parking lot of a fast-food place and shook his head.
“I’ve got bad vibes about this.”
“Me, too.” Michael tugged at the ball cap, wishing he could tear off the wig and scratch his scalp. The damned thing was hot and itchy. “Turn around. We’ll send a team out there at daybreak if necessary. But something tells me that we got sent on a snipe hunt.”
Blaze whipped the car back in the direction they’d come and hit the gas. “Snipe hunt?”
“Means being sent on a search for something that doesn’t exist. My dad used to send me on snipe hunts when I was little, until I found out there’s no such thing as a snipe.”
“Never heard that one.” He laughed. “Kinda mean, though.”
“No kidding. He—” The phone in his jeans buzzed again. Pulling it out, he raised a brow. “Guess who?”
“Lenny.”
“Bingo.” He answered the call. “Ready to level with me?”
“Michael, don’t go to that house,” Lenny rasped. “I’m pretty sure it’s just a diversion.”
He squashed the anger rising in his chest. “We figured as much. Tell me who gave you that address.”
“Robert Dietz,” he said, his misery clear. “Came by in person last night. Said I was to give you the address and wait for his call. Said he’d tell me what to do next.”
“You completed the first part. So did he call?”
“Yeah, a few minutes ago. He instructed me to wait three hours before I called you, but I can’t do it, man. I know he’s planning something bad and I don’t want no part of it, no matter how much I need the cash.”
“How much cash?”
“Ten grand.”
Michael swiped a hand down his face. “You never would’ve lived to see that money. Believe that. What’s the message he gave you for me?”
“He said wait three hours, then call and tell you that he has what’s most valuable to you.”
The blood drained from his face. “Oh, my God. My house. Hurry,” he yelled at Blaze. “Lenny, what else?”
“Yes, give it to me.” He memorized the information. “Is that all?”
“He said come alone and unarmed, and then he hung up.”
Right. Dietz must be totally mental to think he’d follow that last instruction.
“Okay. Lie low until I can get by to see you.”
“You gonna kill me? I’m dead, anyway, if you don’t get that fucker.”
“No, I’m not going kill you, though it’s a good thing your neck isn’t in my hands right now. Talk to you soon.” He laid his head back on the seat, trying not to be sick. “Hurry, for God’s sake.”
“I am. Emma’s with them,” he reminded his friend, his face a mask of rage.
“Dietz was counting on having three hours’ head start. Maybe we’ll get there before he does.” Quickly, he placed a call to the house. The phone rang and rang, and cold fear gripped him. “Nobody’s answering at home.”
“Try their cell phones.”
He did. Bastian first, then Katrina and Emma. There was no way none of them would answer when they knew he and Blaze were out on an op.
The next call he placed was to one of his agents who regularly coordinated emergencies like this one. When Lawrence answered, he ordered two teams to be sent immediately—one to his estate, and the other to the warehouse. Both were to approach with stealth.
Please let us be in time.
If anything happened to them, he might as well be dead.
But Dietz would die first.
Bastian inspected his third glass of cabernet and mused over how quickly the first two had gone down. He supposed he should monitor his alcohol consumption, but for the life of him, he couldn’t think why.
Oh yes. That little detail about his lover being out in the city, possibly in danger, and the idea of Bastian suddenly getting an emergency call and having to rush off—that’s why.
With regret, he set the glass aside and tried to focus on the women’s conversation. But chatter about every subject from home decorating to which brand of bra was the most supportive gave him the yawns. His assertion that bras should be banned was met with giggles before they went back to talking about girly things.