by Dawn Ryder
Tyler shook his head. Jeb Ryland was dead now and Vitus Hale was enjoying the man’s daughter. Even if Tyler had lost his place with the congressman, he couldn’t help but enjoy the fact that Vitus Hale had outsmarted the old bastard.
“Every man has weaknesses.”
Marc Grog was correct about that. The difference was, Tyler knew better than to alert Vitus Hale to the fact that his brother was running for his life. One Hale brother was trouble enough to catch now that Saxon knew Tyler was gunning for him.
No, the way to deal with catching a mouse was to hunker down and wait for her to cross his path. She would because Saxon would hand her off, thinking it the best course of action. A tactic Tyler had taught him.
And just to make sure of that, Tyler was going to give Saxon a whiff of bait, all in the interest of making sure he took to the trail and left the mouse where she’d have enough wiggle room to pop up on his radar. Witness teams weren’t trained on the same level as Shadow opps. The second Saxon handed over his witness, Tyler would have her in check.
* * *
Kagan had his network set up just the way he liked it, with lots of triggers. He watched a blinking icon on his tablet flicker and tapped on it. The modern era had its pitfalls, one of which Tyler Martin had been only too happy to illuminate to him—that was that there was no way to hide. It was the reason Tyler Martin was still alive or at least why Kagan hadn’t shot him when he’d had the chance. Kagan had had the reason sure enough, two of Saxon Hale’s men were dead thanks to Martin being part of a plot to sell out military positions in Afghanistan. Well, more than two when Kagan considered how many men had died in ambushes.
Kagan slowly smiled. Today, he was going to be able to repay Tyler Martin by catching him in his own little trap. The world was a very hard place to slip off the edge of and Carl Davis had just tipped his hand by pulling information on Saxon Hale.
Kagan tapped his finger tip on the desktop and made a decision. He backtracked on Carl’s secure password and went looking to see what else the good presidential hopeful had been doing. What he found made him reach for his phone.
Tyler Martin might think it impossible to survive without selling out to the high and mighty of Washington, but Kagan wasn’t willing to see the world in such black-and-white terms. There were still cracks in the woodwork, and Carl had just exposed a large one that Kagan had every intention of widening. Kagan put his neck on the line for one reason and that was his belief that even though the good guys only won sometimes, it was worth the struggle.
And when it happened, that was when hope had a chance to grow. If Marc Grog went down, Carl Davis would, too. Maybe, just maybe, that might translate into a fair presidential election.
It was going to be his pleasure to try and help that happen.
* * *
They touched down with a little skid of the aircraft tires. Honestly, it was a smooth landing, but Ginger felt like it was a gavel pounding. More than sound, she felt the impact and the vibration move through her body while they taxied from the runway to a small building. Bram didn’t pull up to it. He stopped the plane in the middle of the expanse of cement while Dare and Saxon began moving through the cabin, bending over to peer out the windows of the aircraft.
“Looks like we gave him the slip,” Dare said.
“If we did, it will be a momentary lapse,” Saxon replied. “One we need to exploit.”
On one hand, Ginger didn’t care for the way they just talked, as though she wasn’t there. On the other hand, listening had its merits and beggars couldn’t be choosers. At the moment, she was reduced to taking whatever handouts fate was in the mood to cast her way.
Just so long as that included ways to survive, she wasn’t going to complain. A gift horse was an opportunity to live. She needed to focus on what was important.
“Let’s move.” Saxon turned around and hooked her bicep.
He guided her down the aisle and held her back from the doorway as Dare made it to the bottom of the steps and scanned the area. Then Saxon allowed her into the sunlight. She’d lost track of what day it was and no one had told her what time zone they were in. She felt sluggish but strangely alert as she went down the steps with Saxon’s help.
His hold suddenly bothered her and she realized it was because he was closed off.
“I can follow directions,” she offered. “Really.”
His expression was unyielding. She didn’t get even a flicker of response before he was pushing her toward an open door. It was an abrupt change, one that felt like it reached out and slapped her.
They walked into a building that gave way to a private terminal. The people in it were either trying to avoid notice or giddy with the excitement of embarking on a private jet. There was a rustle as a couple came in, the woman wearing her wedding dress. Unlike other airport terminals, this one lacked the rather pathetic looking seats. In their place were wide, padded chairs and tables. Privacy screens were placed throughout, and muffled conversation floated around them from the people who didn’t want to be seen.
Saxon took her behind one.
There were five people waiting. Saxon deposited her in the corner, placing himself in the only escape route before releasing her. She felt like circulation was restored to her arm now that he wasn’t holding it. The man had a grip and an unfair amount of strength. Her eyes narrowed when she realized how much that fact impressed her.
“Agent Powich.” One of them offered Saxon his hand. Saxon firmly shook it before a woman offered him a phone.
“It’s clean,” she said. “We have other resources for you.”
The female agent went on to list them. Burner phones, cash, paper maps with safe houses, oh, and they had a house that had just come up due to the couple being killed in a car accident over the weekend.
Ginger turned a little green at the callousness of how that tragedy was being laid out as an opportunity.
You’re jealous, too …
Okay, she was, but not only because the female agent was drop-dead gorgeous. She was willow thin, with a button nose and thighs that were worthy of a bikini. She was also completely at home with the male agents, offering them a composed demeanor and even a few flutters of her eyelashes. Ginger felt grubby by comparison and totally out of her league, as well. It was depressing as all hell, no matter how hard she tried to remind herself that really, she’d rather be back in her normal life. It might be vanilla but it didn’t include people shooting at her.
Ginger’s eyes suddenly widened. “What about my family?”
She’d just blurted it out, and the agents all turned to look at her. “I mean, does that guy from the airport know my name?”
She was a rotten excuse for a daughter. Horror had a choking grip on her and Saxon started to turn his head back to Agent Powich without answering her.
“Don’t you dare ignore me,” she hissed. “Seriously, answer the question.”
Her tone stunned Saxon. She witnessed the flash of surprise in his eyes before his expression cracked, giving her a glimpse at the man she’d gotten to know. Relief went through her because this was someone, a person, not the hard-muscle agent man who had taken her into the building.
“For the moment, your identity is unknown. We have a team in place, watching your parents.”
She’d expected relief, but all she felt was a tingle of dread. Saxon’s expression was tightening up again as she got the distinct feeling the second shoe was making ready to drop.
He broke his gaze away from her and sent a look toward Agent Powich. “Good luck.”
Saxon looked her way a last time before he ducked around the screen and disappeared from her life. His jaw was tight, making her think he didn’t like leaving her.
Street Team.
Yeah, it was what he was, what she actually admitted to preferring him as. It was terribly unfair of her but she scanned the agents surrounding her and found them all watered down versions of Saxon Hale and his team. Sure, they were likely all very good at
their jobs, but there was no edge and she didn’t get the same sense of control from them. Her confidence took a direct hit because she was pretty certain they wouldn’t be as capable under fire.
It made her feel like she’d just been abandoned at the animal shelter. Sure, they’d do their job as best they could, but she had a higher risk of leaving the place dead than alive. Saxon was the only one she felt safe with.
And he was walking out of her life.
Fuck.
* * *
Saxon let out a snort, forcing himself to think about Powich and his team as a much-needed rescue for Ms. Ginger Boyce from the blunt way his team operated. They didn’t know how to preserve sensibilities.
The woman had a streak of fire in her.
He snorted again, cursing his fickle emotions. He didn’t need to notice things about her, at least not traits that he found attractive.
Irresistible.
He shook his head and dialed a number that was on a sticky note on the back of his badge. His section leader answered on the second ring.
“Congratulations on getting her there in one piece,” Kagan said. “She’s a lucky girl to have you watching her.”
“It worked out,” Saxon answered as he rotated his neck. For some reason, it was as tight as a slingshot. “Powich will have his hands full with her. Warn him to keep his guard up. My guess is Tyler won’t give up so easily.”
“Tyler is up to something. Got a fresh sighting on him heading back into the Quarter,” Kagan said. “Sending it to your phone.”
Saxon waited for a moment before he tapped the screen and looked at the picture. It was blurry, likely from a traffic camera.
If his neck hadn’t been tight before, it was now. Saxon let out a little growl. Bram was looking over his shoulder and made a gun with his forefinger and thumb, firing off a silent shot at the screen.
“Don’t know what he’s going back in for, but you can bet it will involve cleaning up what our witness saw.” Kagan said. “In any event, he’s being sloppy.”
Saxon had the phone pressed to his ear again but his mind was seeing the picture and the word “sloppy.” It stuck in his throat, impossible to swallow.
“It’s bullshit.”
Kagan was silent, waiting for Saxon to explain. “A picture just happens to surface now?”
“That’s what drew you to the Quarter,” Kagan responded. “A slip up that let you know Tyler was there.”
Saxon was thinking, and he was getting a mighty bad feeling. “No. Not with that Federal team he was riding with. It’s bait. Tyler doesn’t know how to be that sloppy.”
“That thought crossed my mind as well.”
There was a long moment of silence from Kagan, proving that the section leader was waiting to see what Saxon would do. A test of sorts, one that held Ginger’s life in the balance.
“I want the witness,” Saxon informed Kagan. “Tyler’s trying to draw me away from her.”
Bram’s eyebrow rose. He was suddenly snapping his fingers at Dare, who was nursing a cup of coffee. He set it aside after one long swing.
“That might be a stretch,” Kagan replied.
“Except that Tyler trained me and knows procedure,” Saxon responded. “And he’ll have less trouble taking down a protection team than he will with me.”
“True,” Kagan grunted. “Babysitting isn’t in your nature. You know the realities of an assignment like this one.”
“I also know that Tyler Martin likes to steamroll through innocents.” Saxon was avoiding thinking about anything beyond the immediate moment. Sloppy and Tyler Martin didn’t belong in the same sentence.
His section leader made a low sound on the other end of the line. “Fair enough. I agree that no one understands Tyler Martin like you do. No one else will know what to look for,” Kagan cut back, his tone having gone deadly.
“Take her and bury her, until I can arrange a testimony hearing.”
It was what he wanted and satisfaction filled him but there was something else, a very distinct sting of guilt. Just because he had valid reasons for taking her back under his control didn’t change the fact that he knew he was pleased for personal reasons.
“If anyone can resist the urge to hop into her bed, my money is on you.”
Saxon narrowed his eyes at Kagan’s comment. “Handing out double-edged compliments today?”
“So it seems. I’ll be in touch.”
Saxon killed the call. Shadow opps was a deal-with-it sort of world. He thrived on it, but that didn’t mean there weren’t times he would rather decline. It was one of the traits that so often separated adventure junkies from true agents. A lot of special opps men came through the ranks. Marine Recon, Army Rangers, Seals, and so on. They signed up, thinking it would be a thinned-down version of active duty, and in some ways it was. But there was another side to it. There were the seedy details, the times when even the best self-directed lecture on duty and the greater good taking precedence didn’t do squat.
You still ended up feeling like shit, and what was worse was that you knew you deserved it. He moved back so that he got a glimpse of Ginger Boyce.
She was mouthwatering. She could satisfy a man like him, a man who hadn’t tasted purity in way too long. But it would be bitter, would leave a taste in his mouth that he wouldn’t be able to wash out. The sort of woman he invited into his bed was one who knew it was for the moment and nothing more.
Ginger didn’t know the meaning of that. For a moment, he allowed himself to enjoy that idea, the concept of her take on the world, the idea of hope. Sure, he kept working to catch men like the Raven because he wanted there to be a brighter future, but his concept of hope was more of a “holding back the darkness” sort of thinking opposed to Ginger’s view that included home, family, and growing old together.
He wanted to taste her though.
He let the thought roll through his mind and linger for just a moment, long enough for him to recognize how dangerous it was before he ordered himself to pull together his professionalism. At least he was practiced enough in being in the field to know when his face was tightened into a mask. He trusted the feeling, pushing himself into motion and into the case that he was assigned.
It was time to do what needed doing.
Tyler wasn’t going to add another notch to his gun belt while Saxon had breath in his body.
* * *
Saxon was still there when she woke up the next morning.
Ginger had thoughts about that but shoved them down, way deep, into a dark hole and slammed a door. Sure, it likely wouldn’t last but for the moment, she was succeeding in avoiding thinking about him at all. That was a victory of sorts, really it was. The guy radiated some sort of allure that she found hypnotic.
And since he had walked back around that privacy screen and taken control of her, she’d realized just how bad an idea it was to let her thoughts run wild.
Like that’s ever stopped you before …
Ha! There really should be some sort of law about her inner voice using her own sarcasm against her.
She needed a diversion.
They were in another house. There was a kitchen that was painted green, giving it a happy glow. There were California poppies hand-painted around the large picture window that was at one end of a breakfast nook. Even with the blinds closed, she felt a sense of welcome, like the walls were radiating years of happy memories or hopes for a full future. She felt the sting of oncoming tears for the couple that had never made it home.
Boy, you’re really losing it …
Shut it.
She wasn’t losing it, but it appeared she was talking to herself. The cabinets offered a nice selection of dishes. Ginger considered the pantry, trying to decide if any of the canned goods went together.
“Snooping, Ms. Boyce?”
Saxon filled the doorway. Somehow, she hadn’t really noticed how big he was. Six feet and change, and his shoulders were wide and bulky with muscle. So much for not thinking a
bout him. The door she’d slammed shut inside herself came flying open and right behind it were all the mental musings she’d indulged in.
She shrugged “You said the owners were deceased. Must sort of suck to always be one step behind the Grim Reaper.”
“Better than having him behind you,” Saxon answered. “Trust me on that one.”
She leaned against the kitchen counter. She’d never been so uncertain and no matter how much her logical brain tried to argue that she should just categorize their relationship into a professional one, she just couldn’t seem to stop thinking about him in a very personal way.
Right then, she would have sworn he was battling the same issue. Watching her with those blue eyes, trying to decide what to think of their situation.
Right. He’s done this before.
That fact gave her back a chunk of her poise.
“So, snooping, exploring, it’s something to do,” she offered with a shrug.
Ginger turned around and opened another cabinet. What she needed was boring things to look at, not the very fascinating visage of Saxon Hale, eye candy, and all man-meat. Because she was so tempted to mess with him.
Soooooooo tempted …
And that wasn’t right. The guy was taking care of her. He didn’t need her using him as entertainment. Honestly, he really might have a wife or girlfriend, and she didn’t have the right to ask. She was his job.
Professional. He was that, all right, and she was, well, her thoughts were inappropriate.
“My section leader is working out the details of getting you before a judge to testify.”
“Great.”
She felt like she sounded lame.
She turned back to face him and found an expression on his face that she hadn’t seen before. This one was curiosity, like he was trying to peel her bland, professional response aside and get a look at her thought process.
“I mean, seems like some good should come of all of this. You guys have been shot at.”
Saxon’s lips twitched. She knew that look. It was the male grin of “bring it on.”