“He’s scared of Ryan and Aaron? Snake?”
“You blame him?” Marietta didn’t sound in the least surprised.
“You really think Ryan and Aaron have killer instincts?”
“I wouldn’t call it killer. Let’s just say they can deliver their own brand of justice, they make their own judgements.”
“Yeah, but kill him?”
“Sure.”
Stunned, Ella gaped at her.
“If it’s called for.”
Ella blinked.
“They wouldn’t just walk up and do it for no reason.”
“No reason? So if they had a reason it’d be all right?”
“They look after their own. You’re Aaron’s for the duration of the investigation. You’re Ryan’s for…” Marietta waved one hand nonchalantly. “Whenever.”
“I think you’re reading more into Snake’s words than is really there.”
Marietta looked at her. “Okay.”
“Seriously.”
“Sure.”
“Marietta.”
“Yes?”
At the innocent expression, Ella shook her head. “Forget it.”
Marietta grinned. It was an infectious grin, the sparkle in her eyes inviting Ella to laugh with her.
Amused, Ella grinned back. “I think you’ve got a problem.”
“That’s what a lot of people say,” Marietta returned cheerfully.
Relaxing now that the worst was over, Ella looked around. “Where the hell is Cassidy? For that matter, where are the police? He should have appeared as soon as Justin started causing trouble, at least have called the cops when the bikies came in and nearly gave me a heart attack.”
Marietta tapped the side of her nose.
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
Without answering, Marietta walked to the back of the shop and through the doorway.
Ella followed her to the staff toilets. The male door was locked, the key lying on the floor.
“Cassidy?” Ella called.
“About freakin’ time!” Cassidy yelled back. “I’ve been out here banging on the door and yelling! Some knob-head locked me in! Why the hell didn’t you come looking for me?”
Marietta unlocked the door and it swung open.
Cassidy came barging out, took one look at her and became flustered. “Er - hi.”
“Hi.” She handed the key to Ella. “Gotta go. Have a pleasant shift for the rest of the night.”
Ella and Cassidy watched her retreat, her strides long and confident, back straight, arms swinging loosely.
“Who is that?” he queried.
“Customer.”
“Wow. Hey, anyway.” He scowled. “Didn’t you hear me calling for help?”
“Nope.” Ella tossed the key up into the air.
He snatched it out of midair. “What the hell were you doing?”
“Cleaning up a mess a dickhead made when they tipped over the chip stand.”
“Man, there are some real losers around.”
“You’re telling me.”
They went back out into the shop, Cassidy helping Ella lift the stand and restack the chips.
“Maybe we should get new ones out, seeing as the stand fell on these and probably broke the chips into teeny-tiny bits,” she suggested.
“Are you kidding me? Why would we do that?”
“Oh, I don’t know. Common decency?”
“No point. The chips are perfectly good.”
“And broken.”
“People chew them into mush then swallow. We’re doing them a favour, they don’t have to chew as much.” Cassidy headed back to the office. “Say nothing.”
“You’re the boss.”
“Yes. Yes, I am,” he agreed with satisfaction.
In the grand scheme of things, Ella decided, broken chips were nothing. It could have been her bones broken into itty-bitty pieces, so yeah, just going to go with the flow.
A car pulled into the bowsers and she went back to work. But no matter how busy she was, Snake’s words played in the back of her mind. You’re lucky you’re Ryan’s woman. If you disappeared Ryan would come looking for me, nothing would stop…Ryan would slit my throat without mercy…the killer instinct.
It was troubling. No lie, it made her feel protected that someone like Snake feared Ryan, that his name alone was enough to shield her. That he thought she was Ryan’s woman, making her off limits to Snake’s vicious revenge. But that Ryan would actually kill to protect her, to avenge her… It was sobering. Worrying. As much as she told herself it wouldn’t really happen, deep down she suspected it was true.
Ryan would do it without mercy.
The thought troubled her on and off for the rest of the shift, following her home, needling at her as she showered and settled into bed with Boof purring beside her.
As she drifted off to sleep she frowned uneasily, her last thoughts before sleep claiming her… Damn it, Ryan. Damn it.
~*~
Looking up into the night sky, Ryan watched the helicopter approach. Like the other members of Wells Security Armed Response and Retrieval team, he wore a black ski mask to hide his identity, dark navy cargo pants, dark navy long-sleeved shirt beneath a bullet-proof vest, black gloves and black boots. None of it would be removed until they were on the private jet back to Australia.
The last three days had been tense. Negotiations had been tried for the kidnap victims but in this country nothing was assured. Combine that with the fact that the leader of this group was a raving lunatic and it was bound to go to shit. The negotiator could see it, the head of the powerful Valordi family the kidnap victims came from could see it. That’s when the family had contacted a shady specialist force that did not exist as far as authorities knew for help. The Valordi needed help but not of the general law enforcement kind. The Sudan was a hotbed of violence. The Valordi were a known family dealing in dubious goings-on themselves, but so far nothing could be pinned to them. They were shady, skimming under the radar, sharks high up the food chain. But they also provided information to the feds, brought about the defeat of high-end, top-secret drug dealers bringing drugs into Australia, as well as giving information that broke a whole sex slave trade open. That they did it to get rid of their competitors was evident, but their information resulted in rescued victims and the demolition of many vicious, illegal rings that would have been a lot harder to break. But the only agencies who knew it were deep undercover, and one of those agencies was Aaron’s. So when two of the Valordi women were kidnapped by a rival gang word went fast down the chain of agencies until Wells Security was tapped. Within the hour the Armed Response and Retrieval team was moving.
The team didn’t meet with the family, remaining incognito in their ski masks from the moment before the private jet’s door opened and they exited, the entire time they were on the field, right up until they stepped back onto the jet, checked everything out, the door slid closed behind them, and they were back in the air. No visits anywhere, just land, do the job, get back in the air and gone. No security names on their shirts, no identity on their bodies anywhere. No one knew who the team was, who they worked for, or when or how they’d gotten into the country. An agent met them at the private airport, drove them to the field camp where they’d met with the negotiator and other security team, and they’d talked the plan out.
“Bastard’s mad as a cut snake,” said the agent. “He’s already sent Mr Valordi these photos. To say Mr Valordi is raging is putting it mildly.”
Picking up the photos in his gloved hands, Ryan held them so Kelly could also see. They studied the photos. Grim. Vicious. Two women badly beaten, clothes torn, their eyes glazed with more than just shock and pain. They’d been drugged and raped.
Ryan felt nothing. Every mental shield was in place, his mind working coldly, clinically, methodically, focussed on the job, the plan. The goal. Negotiations had failed, the gang leader was planning a grand execution to be filmed and uploaded to a popular social s
ite for everyone to see.
Not going to happen.
They’d scoped out the camp and surroundings, rechecked the plan and then like wraiths the team had slipped into the camp. Gang members died silently, disappearing into the darkness. The women were rescued, the team working with deadly efficiency like a well-oiled machine.
Ryan stayed back with Zach setting explosives before they melted into the shadows. Once far enough away they detonated the explosives, levelling the camp and every bastard within it. The gang ceased to exist.
The women had a long way to go to recovery - if they ever recovered - but the Valordi family would fly them back to France to ensure they received the highest care available. The women were delivered to the negotiator and Valordi’s private security team and Ryan and his own team got back in the agent’s car and drove off into the darkness. Within an hour they were at the private airport onboard the private jet. Kelly and Brent checked the entire plane inside and out, scanned for bugs, checked-in with the pilots. Only then did the jet leave.
Once in the air, Ryan and the team stripped off their bullet-proof vests, gloves, weapons and ski masks, and finally relaxed, sitting back in the seats and taking a well-earned break.
Sipping from the bottle of cold water, Ryan gazed out into the darkness beyond, imagining the trickling water in the fountain in his private courtyard, his own personal place of serenity. The flowing water, the fragrant flowers, the whisper of a breeze through the potted plants.
And Ella.
Closing his eyes, he breathed deeply, imaging her faint flowery scent of soap and light perfume. The sweetness of her lips, the grey of her eyes, those soft curves.
I’m coming home, Ella mine.
~*~
The jet landed in the early morning. The team woke up instantly as soon as the captain announced they were approaching the city. They left the jet, going straight to a black van that waited for them at the edge of the tarmac. Gail greeted them cheerfully, her gaze skimming over them all.
“Looking good,” she said.
“All for you, my sweet.” Brent winked.
“Don’t make me hot under the collar.”
“Just the collar?”
“Did you bring me back a souvenir?”
“Ryan wouldn’t let us go shopping.”
“Ryan, I’m shocked.”
Ryan just slanted her a look.
Grinning, she put the van in gear and drove them away from the airport, going along the freeway before turning into a nondescript area to pull up in front of a tall iron gate set in a high, thick stone wall with a guard house just behind it.
Two German Shepherds stood stiffly at the gate, their eyes fastened on the van. Cameras at the top of the guard house tracked them, but Ryan knew there were also cameras further back hidden from sight. Brian, the guard currently on duty, would have seen them coming five minutes ago.
Gail got out of the van and approached the gate. Brian came out of the guardhouse, his intent gaze sweeping over her before shifting to the van. Opening a small gate at the side, he came through with the dogs flanking him. Coming to the side of the van, he peered in and nodded at Ryan before sweeping his gaze over the rest of the team while the dogs circled the van, sniffing.
He knew them all, gave a nod and stepped back. Gail got back in the van and waited. Brian went back into the guardhouse and seconds later the heavy iron gate slid to the side. Gail drove through towards the warehouse, only to stop at another checkpoint and another big guard accompanied by a German Shepherd. Cameras tracked every move of the van, and both the guardhouses plus Control Centre back at Wells Security monitored them.
Ryan fought the impulse to ring Wells Security and ask after Ella for four reasons - he always followed protocol until the mission was entirely over and everyone was dismissed home, Aaron would have personally notified him if something had happened to her while he was away, Ryan knew every member of Wells Security and trusted their judgement, and as team leader he never shirked his responsibilities which included seeing this through to the end. So he kept his mind focussed on the procedures, followed them to the letter T. Later, he would focus on Ella.
Two hours later the team had unpacked the weapons, signed them in to another guard to be cleaned and securely locked away before they took off their tactical equipment. The equipment was stowed away, their clothes they took home to wash and bring back. Every man and woman was responsible for their own equipment, and they took the time required to ensure everything was serviced, cleaned, neatly packed away and ready to grab for the next mission.
Next was showering, then they sat around the big dining room table and ate a hearty stew full of meat and vegetables accompanied by bread for lunch. Aaron was a stickler about no one going home after a mission until they’d been well fed and debriefed first.
Once they finished and were sitting back drinking tea or coffee and chatting, Aaron walked in. He looked around, nodded at them all. No fancy meeting, no official room. For this he simply pulled out a chair and sat amongst them all, inquiring as to their welfare, going around the table, looking at each person directly as he talked to them and waiting for their reply, letting them know he saw them, each and every one, as an individual, valued members of his team, and his responsibility. Only when he was satisfied that they were personally okay did he start the debriefing.
It was one of Aaron’s things that the debriefings be kept informal, though he missed nothing. If he deemed someone needed to see a counsellor if the mission was exceptionally bad or disturbing, he told them and there was no argument.
His team knew he genuinely cared about them, respected that he knew what he was talking about because he’d walked in the same footsteps as they did, and sometimes he still did, going off with them on missions, coming back with them, getting debriefed.
His team were relaxed around him, secure enough to talk honestly. The mission had gone well, no one had gotten hurt - except for the gang being blown to bits, which was, in their opinion, no loss and good riddance - and then finally the debriefing was over. The team were free to go to their homes and would come into the city office the next morning to write up their individual reports before having four days off before returning to work in other areas until the next mission. Gail was designated driver to drop them all off home.
When everyone except for Ryan had left, Aaron turned to him.
“Going to complete the report,” Ryan said. “Then I’ll go home.”
Aaron didn’t argue. “I’ll wait here. When you’re done I’ll drive you home.”
Ryan nodded and stood up. Now that everyone was gone and it was over except for the report, he found that regardless of knowing Ella was fine he really wanted to ask. Didn’t know why - wait, yes, he did. It was because she was his, he wanted to know, wanted the reassurance even though it was stupid, knew she was fine. At the door, he hesitated for only a fraction.
“Ryan?”
He looked over his shoulder to see Aaron taking a sip from the thick mug of now lukewarm tea.
Aaron said mildly, “She’s fine.”
Typical Aaron, he could read Ryan’s mind. From any other man it would have irritated Ryan, but his boss and friend? Whole other ball game. Aaron was about the only man in the world with whom he felt a kinship. No idea why, just did. “Thanks.”
“A bit of trouble with those two teens, Billy and Justin, when she was at work. Ella was holding her own but Marietta intervened. Then Snake appeared.”
Ryan’s eyes narrowed.
“Marietta was there,” Aaron said calmly. “Snake’s leaving Ella alone. He’s told her no more help, don’t come looking for him. Any business he was doing with her is finished.”
Good.
“Apparently he’s scared of you and me.”
Ryan nodded. It didn’t surprise him. Snake knew a fellow predator when he saw one, recognised a far deadlier predator as well, and both Aaron and Ryan fell into the latter category. It wasn’t boastful, it was undeniable truth
. “Thanks.”
Aaron saluted with the mug.
Moving to the office, Ryan sat down at one of the desks, switched on the computer, keyed in the security passwords and codes, went through another set of security passwords, and finally brought up the forms. Meticulously, he entered every detail of the mission from start to finish, leaving out nothing. Once done, he scanned the photos he’d kept of the two rescued women as well as downloaded the photos of the camp before the raid and after and attached them to the digital report and filed them. Once it was all done, he printed the report, attached the photos, put everything into a file and shut it. Logging off, he shut down the computer and went in search of Aaron.
He found his boss and friend throwing balls for the German Shepherds. The savage, highly trained canines were chasing the balls, tongues hanging out, goofy expressions of pure joy on their furry faces. Now and again he gave them some treats from a little bag he carried in his jacket pocket.
Amused, Ryan watched the dogs drop the balls at Aaron’s feet and fasten their intent gazes on his pocket. In perfect formation they sat, waiting.
Aaron rewarded them by giving them the remainder of the treats, rubbing their heads and patting their sides while they wolfed the treats down and resumed frolicking like overgrown puppies.
Noticing Ryan’s amusement, even though it was hidden behind his stoic expression, he shrugged. “The cats refuse to fetch, and they steal the treats. At least I can control the dogs.”
That was even more amusing. “Shea’s cats love you.”
“Shea’s cats get away with murder.”
“That’s because you let them.”
“That’s because I’ll do anything to keep my wife happy,” Aaron replied honestly.
There was no hiding behind excuses there. He loved his wife devotedly and her happiness was his goal. He shared their home with her teenage brother, Cole, and three ginger miscreants.
Ryan glanced down at several ginger cat hairs speckling Aaron’s otherwise immaculate black jacket.
Aaron followed his gaze. “Carrot got into the cupboard again.”
Ryan had met the three ginger cats, all brothers with different personalities. Ginger glared at everyone - bit like Boof, really - Red was so laid back he floated through life with dreamy contentedness, and Carrot was hyper and into everything. Especially Aaron’s clothes. He seemed to make it his mission to shed his ginger hair on as much of Aaron’s stuff as he could - his desk, his reports, his clothes, and Ryan had personally seen Aaron pluck a ginger hair out of his coffee mug with a bemused look on his face. Mostly because the mug was in his Wells Security building so it was anyone’s guess how Carrot managed to get his fur there. Though, as Marietta happily pointed out, maybe Aaron was starting to hack-up hair balls. Aaron had cut his eyes to her and she’d suddenly found something extremely important to do which apparently required leaving the office for several hours.
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