Cody’s stomach churned with anger and denial. “She could have killed him at any point—why try to worm her way into his operations to do it? It doesn’t make sense.”
Except that she’d carried a gun to her meeting with Conti when she wouldn’t carry a phone. A suicide mission? Miranda didn’t strike him as suicidal.
Viking blew out a breath. “I know that—but it’s not our call. Mendez has been on the phone with high-level contacts half the damn night. She’s wanted, Cody. The evidence against her is pretty strong.”
“What about this Badger guy? He knows something. What’s he saying?”
“We don’t know his identity for security reasons—but what he’s saying through our contacts is that she’s a good agent. He also says she’s been different since her mentor, this Mark Reed guy, was killed a few months ago.”
“I don’t like any of this. We said we’d help her.”
“And we will. It’s all any of us wants. Bring her in and she’ll get the help she needs. Samantha Spencer promised to look after her and keep us informed.”
His gut was churning harder now. Samantha Spencer was a CIA agent that HOT worked with quite a bit, and she’d always been completely trustworthy. Hell, she was rumored to be hooking up with the skipper. And Mendez was certainly no fool.
So was Miranda lying? Was she obsessed with Conti? It was possible, sure. And yet Cody didn’t see it that way. If she’d wanted to kill Conti, she could have shot him in the lobby of the Venetian. Yeah, she might have been caught—but if she was truly crazy and hell-bent on revenge, she wouldn’t have cared. It was also possible, being a highly trained operative, that she could have gotten away if she’d timed everything just right.
There was also the fact she hadn’t shot him yet. If all she’d wanted was to kill Conti, she wouldn’t have let anything stand in her way. She’d have taken Cody down the first chance she had and then doubled back to her target.
No, there were smarter ways to go about eliminating a high-value target like Conti. And Miranda wasn’t stupid. If that had been her goal, she’d have gotten the job done.
“Cowboy?” Viking said when Cody stayed silent.
“When and where?” he asked from behind gritted teeth. Because he couldn’t disobey a direct order. It would be treason to do so. How the fuck was he going to get out of this?
“Tonight. Ms. Spencer is flying into Vegas. Take Miss Lockwood to the airport, and Ms. Spencer will take it from there.”
“Jesus H. Christ,” Cody said. “I don’t like this, Viking. It’s not right.”
“If she was HOT, would you stop Mendez from doing what needed done?”
His temples throbbed with a fresh headache. If Miranda was in the military and a member of HOT, no, he wouldn’t stop Mendez from taking care of business. But he knew Mendez. Trusted him. He didn’t know Samantha Spencer very well, and he damn sure didn’t know the CIA brass who wanted Miranda to turn herself in. All he knew was that Miranda didn’t want to go. That she was convinced she’d end up dead if she did.
But maybe that was an act—or maybe she really was in need of help. Christ, what a mess.
“No, I wouldn’t.”
“Same thing, man. The spooks have their own chain of command just like we do.”
He blew out a harsh breath. Golden sunlight spilled over the sand and scrub, making everything seem beautiful and new. Hid the ugliness and unfairness of what he had to do to the woman still sleeping in the bed they’d shared last night. Damn it, he wanted more time with her.
But he wasn’t going to get it.
“Yeah, all right. What the fuck am I supposed to tell her?”
“Tell her we’re helping her solve her problem.”
A buzzing noise sounded near her head. Miranda swatted at it, thinking it was a fly or a mosquito—and then she came fully awake when she realized what it really was. The burner phone sat on the bedside table. Ringing.
It shouldn’t be ringing. She’d blocked the number before she called Badger. She snatched it up, considering whether or not she should answer. But curiosity overwhelmed her, and she pressed the button.
“Miranda?” a female voice said. “Are you there?”
“Who wants to know?” She didn’t recognize the voice, but clearly the woman knew who she was. And knew the number to call.
“It’s Samantha Spencer.”
She pulled the phone away from her ear and stared at it for a moment. “How do I know that’s true?”
She knew who Samantha Spencer was. She’d been on the Middle East bureau for quite some time, and she was legendary. Then she’d left and presumably returned to Washington. Miranda didn’t know that for certain because she wasn’t acquainted with Samantha. Mark had known her though.
“I was a friend of Mark Reed’s,” she said, almost as if reading the direction of Miranda’s thoughts. “We worked together several years ago.”
“If you were his friend, then tell me his childhood nickname. The one he hated.”
“What makes you think we were that close?”
“If you don’t know it, I’m hanging up.”
There was a sigh on the other end. “Really, darling, you shouldn’t go off half-cocked all the time. That’s what gets good operatives in trouble. And his nickname was Bubba. Which, yes, he despised. His sister told me at a party once.”
Miranda closed her eyes. “What do you want, Ms. Spencer?”
“Call me Sam. Right now that handsome SEAL you’re with is being told to bring you in. He’s not going to want to do it—but he will in the end.”
There was a sharp pain right behind her eyes at that news. Yes, they’d had one hot night together—but they still had jobs to do. Cody wasn’t going to risk his career for her—just like she wouldn’t risk hers for him if the situation were reversed. A prickle of doubt slid down her spine, but she shook it off.
No, of course she wouldn’t risk her career for him. She didn’t even know him. Not really.
“Why are you telling me this?”
“Because I need you to understand what I’m about to ask of you.”
“If you intend to ask me to harm Cody, I’m not going to do it.”
Sam laughed. “Hardly, my dear. It would be a waste not only of a sexy man but of a damned fine Special Operator as well. There aren’t enough of them to toss away so casually.”
Miranda felt herself grinding her teeth. “Then what?”
“I need you to betray him before he betrays you.”
The pain behind her eyes intensified. “And what do you mean by that?”
“I mean that if you want to live, if you want to get out of this mess you’ve gotten yourself into, then you need to do exactly what I tell you to do. No matter how difficult. Understood?”
Miranda’s chest ached. For what? For a man she’d known only a few hours? A man she’d had fantastic sex with, sure, but what more was there between them? Nothing, that’s what. They were strangers, nothing more. No matter how he’d held her close when she’d been upset over the way her life had imploded. He’d been nothing but kind. Helpful. Loyal.
And yet this was her life. Her career. She couldn’t go down without a fight. She had to get the evidence to bring down Conti’s organization. It was justice for Mark’s life and his sacrifice.
“It’s not only you in this mess,” Sam said, as if sensing her inner turmoil. “You’ve dragged Cody into it. He could be in danger too if you don’t follow my instructions.”
She thought of the man who’d touched her so sweetly last night, and determination filled her. No way could she let him be in danger because of her. “Tell me what you want me to do.”
15
When Cody went back inside, he heard movement in the bedroom. Miranda was awake. He strode over and pushed the door open. She was standing beside the bed, dragging on her jeans. She stopped in the process of doing so and stared at him.
His chest tightened. God, she was beautiful. And she had no idea what was coming. W
hat he had to do.
“How you doing?” he asked.
She dropped her gaze to the floor. Was that a blush?
“Fine. A little sore.”
At the thought of how she’d gotten that way, his cock started to tingle with arousal. Not now.
“Sorry about that.”
Her whiskey eyes were on his, wide and innocent. “Oh no, I loved it. Really. It’s been a long time and you—you treated me right. Thank you.”
Fuck.
“You’re welcome.”
She finished pulling her jeans on and spread her hands. “Look, I don’t want this to be awkward, okay? We had sex. I don’t expect anything from you. I don’t want anything.”
Now why did her words make him angry? He got what she was saying, and yet it pissed him off anyway.
“What if I want something?”
Her eyes widened a second. And then she looked… hurt? Regretful? A moment later she masked her expression, and he couldn’t tell what it was he’d seen.
“What could you possibly want?”
“Maybe I want to know more about you.” Whoa, since when had he ever wanted to know more about a woman he slept with?
She looked uncertain, and he hurried on. No way was he going to sound needy. That was weird. And not at all like him.
“I could also want you to know that I intend to do everything I can to help you, Miranda. I could want you to know that I’m not going to stop until we find out who betrayed you. No matter what happens, I want you to know that.”
Because tonight, when he handed her over to Samantha Spencer, she was going to hate him.
Her throat moved as she swallowed. “I appreciate that. You’ve been more than kind to me.”
Now it was his turn to look pained. Goddammit, he still hadn’t figured out how he was going to obey orders and keep his promise to her at the same time. But he would. He had no choice.
“I’ve been on the phone with my guys. We’re going to have to head back to Vegas and catch a flight out.”
She straightened from where she’d bent to pick up her shoes. “Is that a good idea? Conti could be looking for us. He’ll have spies at the airport.”
“We’re boarding a private plane. Different part of the airport than commercial.”
That much was true. Samantha Spencer was flying in on a government jet. He hated to think how much that was costing the taxpayers. Or just why it was necessary.
“All right. When do we go?”
Cody frowned. He hadn’t expected her to agree so easily. “We have a few hours. The flight will be tonight, so there’s no need to leave just yet.”
Miranda sat on the bench at the end of the bed and put on her shoes. Not the heels from yesterday but a pair of tennis shoes with a bright pink stripe down the side.
“I thought I smelled coffee,” she said, glancing at him for a second.
“Yep.”
“Great. I could use some.” She stood and brushed past him, not touching him or looking at him again.
Yeah, so it was awkward. They’d had sex last night, and now there was all the uncomfortable morning-after stuff to deal with. Any other time, any other woman, and he’d get up in the morning and walk away. There might be another session before he did, or he might just slip into his clothes and leave before she woke up.
But he couldn’t do that this time, even if he wanted to. Which, strangely, he didn’t. Neither of them could walk away right now, and that was fine with him.
“There’s bread for toast,” he said as he walked out into the living room. She glanced at him from the kitchen as she popped a K-Cup into the Keurig. “Might be cereal too. I didn’t check.”
“Great. Thanks.”
He’d eaten an energy bar from the stash in his duffel, so he hadn’t paid a lot of attention to what the safe house was stocked with. Miranda fixed her coffee and then poked around in the cabinets. She found cereal, poured a bowl, and ate it standing over the sink in the kitchen, staring out the window.
He wanted to know what she was thinking, but he wouldn’t ask. He also had an urge to walk over and slip his arms around her, tug her into his embrace. He wasn’t going to do that either.
She finished the cereal and rinsed her bowl. But she still didn’t leave the window. She stood there drinking her coffee, watching the road. It was empty of traffic, a dusty ribbon winding from the main road to the safe house, which sat tucked away in the scrub.
If he looked out the east window, he could see another house about a mile away. It was sparsely populated out here. Not many people wanted to live in the desert, he supposed. Or at least not in this part of the desert.
Cody went out to the truck, stashed his duffel inside, and checked his weapon. His team had made sure he had one when they’d gotten the truck for him last night. The gun was a 9mm, not as sweet as his Sig, but it would get the job done.
He shut the door and was turning to go back inside when a cloud of dust caught his eye. It was near the beginning of the road leading down to the house. There was no need for anyone to come down that road, but someone could be turning around.
And yet the cloud kept moving toward him, swirling around a black SUV that barreled along the road.
Cody sprinted to the door and threw it open. “Miranda! We’ve got company! Get your shit and get out here. Now!”
He started the truck with the remote key fob and turned impatiently, looking for Miranda. She came running out the door, gun drawn. They ran for the truck and jumped inside, doors slamming.
He jammed it into reverse, rammed his foot on the gas, and rocketed backward. Then he executed a one-eighty and cranked the truck into drive. The only way out was the road the SUV approached on. Yeah, this was the desert and the terrain was flat, but it was rocky too. He wasn’t taking the chance of bottoming out the truck, piercing the gas tank, or damaging the transmission and turning them into sitting ducks. The only thing to do was fly toward the SUV and play chicken.
Miranda propped a foot onto the glove compartment to steady herself, grabbed the handle above the door for support, and aimed the pistol over her knee. Cody shot her a look, his chest swelling with emotions he didn’t understand or have time to analyze.
But goddamn, she was spectacular. Tough and beautiful and deadly all at once. He’d never known that kind of thing could be a turn-on, but holy fuck, it sure was. He’d dated military women in the past, so he was used to tough-as-nails females, but none of them had been quite like Miranda.
She was cut from the same cloth as he was, and he liked it more than he’d ever thought possible. Her long hair hung over her shoulders, and her jaw was set at a determined angle. When they got out of this, he was looking forward to kissing her again, to watching that jaw soften as he brought her pleasure.
“I don’t know how they found us, but we got this, sunshine,” he said coolly. “I promise.”
She glanced at him, her whiskey eyes looking haunted. “We don’t even know who they are,” she said. “Conti? Or the agency? Or maybe it’s your guys deciding they don’t want to help me after all.”
That last statement pierced his conscience in ways he didn’t like. “Does it matter who they are?”
Her eyes hardened. “No.”
They flew down the road toward the SUV. Miranda kept aim, and Cody prepared to perform evasive maneuvers. The SUV grew bigger, the headlights shining through the dust. The driver wasn’t wavering yet—but he would.
Cody mashed the gas harder, and the truck responded with a surge of power, rocks spitting and plinking against the sides—
And then the truck died. Just fucking died. All the power went away as the brakes locked up and they skidded over the dirt. Cody held the wheel hard, keeping the truck straight as they slid. They came to a stop and his stomach twisted as he reached for the key and turned it again and again. Nothing happened. Nothing.
“Fuck!” He slammed his palm against the steering wheel and then grabbed his gun as he flung the door open. He didn’
t know how, but they’d disabled the truck remotely.
“Follow me,” he ordered Miranda as he tumbled out and took up position behind the tires. He wasn’t giving up yet. No fucking way.
He heard Miranda fall to the dirt. And then he felt her behind him, one hand lightly stroking over his shoulders. “It’s okay,” she said softly, her breath tickling the shell of his ear as she leaned in and kissed his cheek. “It’s over, Cody. You tried.”
Before he knew what she intended, she stood and walked out in front of the truck. Her gun hung limply at her side.
“Goddammit, Miranda,” he shouted. “Get down.”
She didn’t move as the SUV rolled up. And then her arm came up, aiming at the vehicle. Cody started to go after her and drag her down, but a shot rang out and then another—
Miranda dropped like a stone in the dirt, her golden hair billowing over the rocks and scrub as she fell. Cody roared with rage as he surged upright, intending to shoot every last motherfucker in that vehicle. He prayed she was only hit, not dead, but his brain knew better. They’d been too close, the aim too precise. There was blood everywhere, her blood…
“Drop it, sailor. That’s an order.” Samantha Spencer sat in the passenger seat, window down, staring at him. But it was the semiautomatic rifle aimed at him from the rear passenger seat that made him check himself.
“What the fuck have you done?” he demanded, rage boiling inside him. Miranda’s body was still, her face turned away from him. Blood spattered her shirt and pooled beneath her body, soaking the sand. It made him ill in a way that blood and bodies never had before. At least they hadn’t shot her with the semi or she’d have been torn to pieces.
He started toward her but the gun in the window jerked and Samantha growled. “Stand down and drop your weapon.”
Cody complied, his stomach twisting. He didn’t look at Miranda again. He couldn’t. Samantha held his gaze.
“We did what was necessary. Now get back in your truck and drive away.”
“I was bringing her to you tonight. Why the fuck did you shoot her? Why not just wait for me to bring her to you?”
Samantha’s gaze never wavered. “She was dangerous. You were in danger, whether you realize it or not. She would have killed you rather than let you bring her in. Now drive away and forget about this.”
HOT SEAL Rescue (HOT SEAL Team - Book 3) Page 7