Exchange of Fire

by P. A. DePaul

  Grady punched forward with his left fist, connecting with a hard skull. The vibrations traveled up his arm, and pain radiated from his knuckles.

  The man grunted and grabbed the top of Grady’s gun. Before Grady could counter, the man forced his Beretta to roll down to the floor, then back up toward his chest, almost breaking Grady’s wrist before the man yanked the gun away.

  Shit. Grady stomped down on the guy’s instep and pushed against the mass.

  The presence of the threat moved forward, regrabbing Grady’s right wrist and twisting it behind him, just as a hefty limb snaked around his throat and squeezed. “Easy there, I’m not the enemy,” Chain Saw whispered into Grady’s ear, making Grady pause the elbow-in-the-kidney strike he had lined up.

  “Cappy?” Sandra asked, just as the dining room lights snapped on.

  “Yep.”

  Romeo stood by the light switch, a Smith & Wesson with a wicked suppressor screwed on to the front now slowly lowering to the floor.

  Where the hell did he keep that hardware stashed? Stupid thought to run through his mind with a gorilla immobilizing him, but Grady couldn’t help it.

  “And me,” a beautiful, albeit red-faced china doll wheezed from Talon’s choke hold.

  She was breathtaking, but Grady instantly dismissed her—the current woman in his life was about all he could handle.

  “What the hell, Cappy?” Talon groused, letting go of China Doll. “You couldn’t knock on the door like a normal human being?”

  “Keeps you all on your toes,” Chain Saw retorted, freeing Grady from his hold.

  Grady jumped out of the way and Sandra ran toward the man, getting swept up in a hug.

  “I understand more than you realize, but we need to talk, you and I,” Cappy whispered when her feet touched the ground.

  Grady rubbed his throat and eyed the hulking man who resembled a brick building. This was a man he understood. The guy couldn’t exude military any more if he had a blinking sign above his head. From the regulation buzz cut to the tech around the guy’s throat and ear, even the way the man carried his frame showed Grady the guy had seen some action. Probably a lot of it if the guarded, haunted eyes were an indicator.

  “Military?” Cappy asked, not hiding his own inspection of Grady.

  Grady’s shoulders snapped back like Pavlov’s dogs. Reflex. “Marines. Retired after too many trips to the sandbox.” He just knew this man would get it.

  The guy nodded.

  “Army?” Grady asked. “I’m guessing Ranger or Green Beret.”

  “Observant.” Cappy’s mouth thinned slightly. “Green Beret in another life.”

  Called it.

  “Huh.” Romeo moved forward and circled in front of Grady while tapping his chin, the Smith & Wesson gone, disappeared back into its secret hiding place. “Wraith mentioned that earlier. Really shedding the military look, aren’t you?”

  Sandra socked him in the shoulder, and China Doll asked, “Feeling threatened by his good looks?”

  Romeo swung her way. “You think he’s good-looking?” he asked, as if crushed by the observation.

  “Absolutely,” China Doll answered, and Sandra stiffened beside him. China Doll slipped forward, adjusting the same hardware Chain Saw sported, and paused between Cappy and Sandra. “But don’t worry, Romeo, I’m sure you’re still the biggest tramp in the room.”

  Romeo blew China Doll a kiss. “I only have eyes for you, babe.”

  The woman snorted and winked at Grady. Did they have a thing going? He could be wrong but he thought he detected an undertone to the exchange. With the two resembling supermodels it would make sense, but was also confusing, since China Doll hadn’t stopped checking him out after Talon had let go. He got the feeling she was placing him next on her list of amusements. No, thanks.

  Sandra gently hugged China Doll. What’s with the kid gloves? The gorgeous newcomer hugged Sandra back, but kept Grady in her sights. Sandra shifted back, edging closer to him, frowning.

  China Doll was dwarfed by Chain Saw’s six-foot-two frame by over a foot, and Sandra had at least five inches on the woman. Her long, straight black hair hung down her back, making her vivid baby-blue eyes stand out of her pixie face. Hidden underneath a layer of makeup was a long scar on her cheek, disappearing into the hairline near her ear. Definitely a story there.

  “Grady, meet Magician,” Sandra coolly supplied, indicating China Doll. “Be careful, though; one of the reasons she’s earned her moniker is the spell she weaves over men.”

  Magician curled a manicured finger around a lock of hair and said, “I can’t take credit for the good genes, but it does come in handy.”

  Chain Saw cleared his throat. “You can call me Cappy.”

  “Everyone”—Sandra swiped her hands toward Grady—“meet Casper Grady.”

  Chapter 17

  Mars strolled through the long-term parking at Asheville Regional Airport, his long, black trench coat flapping in the breeze. He adjusted the pair of sunglasses on his face and studied the selection. Vehicles in the lot ranged from beat-up pieces of shit to high-end BMWs, and the pickup truck ratio outweighed the cars three to one—most with mud splashed across their fenders. Damn rednecks. He needed something inconspicuous.

  The parking lot lamps still burned brightly even though the sun was making its first appearance for the day. A ray of light beamed off the corner of a windshield, making him squint behind his shades. He strode forward. This SUV had promise. The dark green color wasn’t hidden under a layer of grime, and the owner of the Explorer appeared to take proper care of it by the lack of dents and dings.

  He hefted his duffle over his shoulder and wended between the cars. A blue parking tag containing the airport’s logo and legal jargon about how Asheville Regional was not responsible for items left behind in the vehicles, blah, blah, blah, rested on the dashboard near the steering wheel. Mars didn’t care about the liability; his focus caught on the date stamped in bold: Check In: Friday, September 1, 13:42 p.m.

  Perfect. The owner wouldn’t have paid for long-term parking if he was only going to be gone a few days. Since today was Sunday, the owner shouldn’t be around to report it stolen until well after Mars left the area.

  His phone vibrated insistently. He pulled it out of his coat and checked the display.

  Victor calling.

  “Mars,” he answered.

  “Have you arrived yet?”

  “Yes. Procuring transportation now.”

  “It’s now been over fourteen hours since Granger dropped off the grid. Find him.”

  “Top priority?”

  “Yes. He had been assigned to investigate a Sandra Walsh in Ridge Creek.”

  “Known alias of Wraith’s?”

  “No, but there are some anomalies surrounding the woman. I asked him to check it out and report back to me.”

  “Now he’s missing.”

  “Yes. I’m sending you her home and work addresses.”

  Mars’s phone vibrated. “Hold on.” He tapped the face and opened the e-mail. Two addresses appeared in the body. He transferred them into the phone’s navigation system and studied the small map on the screen.

  “It will take me about an hour and a half to get there.”

  “Granger is your mission, but you have KOS authorization for Wraith. If she’s there, don’t hesitate to kill her on sight.”

  ***

  Grady had had enough of the bullshit. Too many people were dropping in, and he was tired of being the only one who didn’t know the whole story. He needed to jump-start the explanations, and the best way to do that was to go for the throat.

  He lifted his chin and locked gazes with Cappy. He held up his fingers and started counting. “Cappy, Wraith, Talon, Romeo, Magician. Not your typical Christian names. Add to that Sandra’s confession that she’s a former sniper and Lethal Fuzzball Boy’s acclamation of her world-famous skill before she ‘died’ and became Jesus with her resurrection . . . I’m going to go out on a limb
and say you’re the Commanding Officer of this clandestine team, right? Trained with them in Kansas and now lead everyone on missions? Tell me, does the company you work for start with a big C?”

  Cappy stiffened, and the reserved expression on his face eclipsed into a thundercloud. “What. The. Fuck?”

  “Here we go,” Romeo muttered, but everyone heard due to the sudden silence at the man’s bellow. Even the sun seemed to pause its ascent in the sky for a moment.

  “Someone had better start talking,” Cappy demanded in his gruff voice. “And, yes, I mean you, Wraith.” He spread his weight over his feet and slapped his hands on his hips.

  Sandra lifted her chin and met the CO’s incensed stare. If her arm hadn’t been touching his, he wouldn’t have known that a tremor raced through her before she opened her mouth. “I made the decision to fill Grady in on details I thought he should know. Especially after an assassin took shots at his head earlier this evening.”

  “Granger,” Talon inserted, crossing his arms.

  Cappy’s eyes flashed and his jaw hardened. He dipped his chin once as if to acknowledge Talon’s contribution and began to pace. “So, despite the oaths you took, you decided to compromise this team by talking to an outsider?”

  “Yes.”

  “And what else does he know?”

  Grady hated being talked around. “Not nearly enough,” he stated bluntly, not caring that Sandra now gripped his arm as if to warn him to back off. Grady had this guy’s number. He was completely lethal, no doubt, but he also seemed to be levelheaded and fair. Time to test that theory. “For example, why do you all act like Sandra’s a ghost? Why would a confessed sniper be insinuating herself into my company as an Operations Manager? Why was a gunman shooting at us earlier? Why did Calvin and Hobbes here”—he pointed to Talon and Romeo—“decide it’s better to break in than knock on the door?”

  Cappy paused his pacing and crossed his arms. Grady held the guy’s stare, not moving.

  Sandra let out an aggravated sigh. “This is ridiculous.” She rounded on Grady, forcing him to break the connection. “You know how every military faction, special ops arm, and government enforcement alphabet always has an urban myth? My former employer isn’t any different.”

  “Wraith,” Cappy barked. “That’s enough.”

  Grady raised an eyebrow. “Are you telling me that you or this team are urban legends?” He couldn’t keep the skepticism from his voice—not that he tried very hard.

  Sandra scowled. “Of course not.”

  “Okay,” Grady drawled slowly, not getting it. “Can I at least get a name for this employer?”

  “Definitely not,” Talon snapped when Sandra opened her mouth.

  She clamped her jaw closed and shot the asshole an annoyed look.

  Prick.

  She cleared her throat. “Better just stick with the generic for now.”

  “Fine.” Grady didn’t like it one bit. A nameless, faceless company was too easy to fabricate, but whatever. He’d been in the military long enough to know that clandestine groups existed. How this team fit in, he couldn’t fathom. Outside of Cappy, none of them seemed like they’d been through basic training or toured the Middle East. Private military company? He knew that PMCs were becoming more and more valuable in the fight against terrorism. He’d let it go . . . for now.

  “Anyway,” Sandra said, “our urban myth sprung up a few months after the new CEO took over five years ago.”

  “I swear to God, Wraith,” Cappy breathed through a tight jaw.

  “Cappy, give me some credit. I’m not going to tell him anything specific.”

  Grady crossed his arms. What the hell kind of good would generic information net him?

  “It’s been said,” Sandra continued, “that no field agent has successfully retired alive from the agency since.”

  “And?” Grady asked, already anticipating what the answer would be.

  “No one’s been able to quit either.”

  Grady raised an eyebrow.

  “It’s also been said,” Talon added scornfully, his gaze centered on Grady, “that any operative who confesses to an outsider forfeits his or her life as well as marks the civilian for death.”

  Sure, buddy. “And you all believe this?”

  “Not everyone,” Sandra admitted, flicking troubled eyes at Romeo.

  The good-looking man sighed deeply. “While I don’t like to put faith in superstitions, I can’t really argue with the facts. Ever since the new CEO took over, no one’s left the company, and I’ve seen too many death notices the past few years.”

  A PMC killing off its employees? Seemed a little spy-novelish to him, but the sincerity on Romeo’s face coupled with the intensity of Sandra’s gaze told him that they believed it at the very least. Talon did too, if the set of his tight shoulders and the absently twirling knives in his fists were any indication.

  Grady caught the CO’s eyes. “Do you believe in this urban legend?”

  Cappy sighed. “Yes, I do. I’ve seen a lot of shit and dealt with a lot of bad men. I know you’ve seen some bad guys in your days as a Marine. Probably had your share of kills regarding them too.” Cappy’s gaze narrowed. “This CEO is a bad man. I don’t know his reasons, and maybe he thinks he’s in the right, but too many operatives have died, and by now Wraith’s been placed on the KOS list.”

  Grady jolted. “KOS? Is that what I think it is?”

  “Kill on sight,” the entire group responded as if on cue.

  Fuck.

  Chapter 18

  Sandra could tell Grady wasn’t really buying her explanation. Hell, she didn’t blame him. The part that burned a little was when he seemed to lose some of the condescension after Cappy weighed in on the urban myth. Why did guys always need someone with another set of balls to validate what a female said? Be it a covert exchange or an outright question like Grady had just asked, they always looked to one another. Men. Alpha males, to be more accurate.

  Speaking of alphas, she couldn’t believe Cappy had actually shared the KOS status with Grady. Did that mean he’d decided it was okay for her to talk freely?

  “So, Sandra, back to my original question,” Grady said, forcing her to tune back in. “How does all this make you Jesus the Grim Reaper?”

  Sandra shuddered as the flash of the little girl falling to the ground flew through her mind.

  “Don’t answer anything else, Wraith.” Talon speared her with his cold eyes. “He’s heard enough. You don’t have to go down that path.”

  “No. He hasn’t,” Grady snapped. “I still have yet to hear how all this woo-woo leads to a gunman aiming for my head and hiding in this cabin now with all of you breaking in.”

  Talon squared his shoulders and Grady dropped his arms, as if readying for a fight.

  What is with these two? Romeo and Cappy didn’t seem to have a problem. Why was Talon acting more aggressive than usual? And why was Grady egging it on?

  Cappy rocked back on his heels and pinged his gaze between Grady and Talon. Sandra couldn’t read his closed expression, but she could tell he was contemplating the same thing. Did he come up with an answer? His dark brown eyes focused on her, and she shrugged her shoulder slightly. His brows dropped and a small frown tugged at the corners of his mouth. What the hell did that mean? Had she missed some cue that would’ve given her the answer?

  Whatever. She had bigger things to worry about than Talon’s and Grady’s PMS. She had only about two more seconds to decide if she should betray more of her oaths and answer Grady’s questions but risk incurring her team’s wrath and losing their trust, or steel her heart and keep him in the dark, losing his trust and their future together.

  Not surprisingly, her heart won this tactical battle too.

  “All this woo-woo,” she said softly, breaking in to the growing tension in the room, “is because on my last mission, I screwed up and killed a fourteen-year-old girl.”

  Grady sucked in a breath. “What?” His crystal-blue eyes la
sered into hers.

  “Goddamn it, Wraith,” Cappy growled. “I said that’s enough.”

  “As I explained a moment ago, I knew I couldn’t just leave my former employer,” Sandra continued, ignoring her pissed-off teammates and staring only at Grady. She prayed her gamble would pay off and he’d understand the hell she had been living in since the moment she arrived in town. “So I faked my death and took off.”

  A shuttered, blank expression morphed over his face. Her heart seized. Had she just made the biggest mistake by telling him? Falling for the man without him knowing the truth was about the stupidest thing she could have done. She watched as the sun’s morning rays turned the sky beautiful shades of pink and purple. How did she ever think this could work?

  “Until about seven hours ago, we all thought she was dead,” Romeo said quietly, the words punching her in the gut. “We’ve been mourning her for six months.”

  Talon cursed and looked away while Cappy’s jaw hardened and Magician examined everyone.

  Grady straightened, surprise and disbelief breaking through the mask. “You didn’t tell your team your plans? You let them go through hell?”

  Sandra dropped her head into her palm. “I couldn’t tell anybody. You don’t understand, nor can I explain the type of inquisition they faced after my death. KOS orders and being declared Rogue are not some fancy words we’re bandying about. They’re very real, and I refused to be responsible for their deaths.”

  “But you let them feel responsible for yours,” Grady fired back.

  She snapped her head up, hurt and recrimination lancing through her. “You can’t pass judgment on me without knowing all the facts.”

  “Fine. That’s fair, but if you take a hard look at the rest of Mission: Impossible here, I have a feeling the statement will apply regardless of what I don’t know.”

  Sandra glanced at the rest of the team. Their faces ranged from pissed off to speculative to cold nothingness. Damn, the vulnerability and guilt dumping into her system had nothing to do with the fact that she had no pants on, though now she wished for some armor.