by Laurie Roma
Lucian’s low curse had the team chuckling in response.
“Put your game faces on, car is approaching at ten o’clock,” Tara said as she watched Gorin’s white all-terrain speed off the road, toward the meeting site. “Three tangos inside.”
Less than a minute later, two other vehicles followed the first and took off in different directions at a slower speed so as not to kick up a trail of sand that could be seen from a distance. “Two additional vehicles following to provide backup.” Tara turned to a set of controls and zoomed in on the vehicles in turn. “Both vehicles carried two tangos.”
“Got a black vehicle in my sights. How fucking stupid can they be? I can see their dust trail without my scope,” Mikayla said in disgust.
“Same here,” Adrian confirmed. “Dumb asses have stopped within thirty feet of me. I’d have to be blind not to hit them from here.”
“Good,” Tara said as she watched Gorin’s vehicle come to a stop a few yards away from Brett and Rock. Tara could see through the cameras in each of the team members’ glasses and focused in on Brett’s view as he got out of his jeep and stood, waiting for Gorin. Rock stood next to Brett carrying a modified AK-74 with grenade launcher. He was a silent sentinel as John Gorin and his men exited their vehicle.
The black market dealer wore a white linen shirt and matching pants, while his guards wore black shirts and pants, both carrying automatic machine guns at the ready.
“You said one guard each,” Brett snarled in a low, deep voice.
John Gorin held up his hands in appeasement. “Just protecting the integrity of the sale, mate.”
“Integrity my ass,” Adrian muttered. “These fuckheads are setting up sniper rifles.”
“Same,” Mikayla stated, her voice dead calm and low. “Switching to small cal suppressor rifle.”
“Hold,” Tara ordered. She typed furiously on the computer, using the voice recognition program to alter John Gorin’s voice, then ran a program to tap into the communication signal of Gorin’s team, blocking them from receiving any messages from one another. Tara heard one of Gorin’s sniper teams radio in and say, “Got the shot, boss.”
Tara used Gorin’s altered voice to relay a response. “Not yet.”
“Waiting for your say,” the tango whispered.
Tara cut off their communication and clicked back to her own team. “Take them.”
“Done,” Adrian said.
“Targets down,” Mikayla confirmed.
Four down, three to go.
Tara watched as John Gorin sauntered toward Brett and Rock on her screen.
“Did you bring the money?”
“Did you bring the product?” Brett countered.
“But of course.” Gorin snapped his fingers and one of the men walked back to the vehicle to take out a metal suitcase. Brett nodded to Rock, who went back to their own vehicle to pull out a heavy duffel bag.
“Let me see the money,” Gorin said as Rock came back to Brett’s side. Rock dropped the bag on the ground between them and waited.
“Let me see what I’m buying first,” Brett demanded.
Gorin walked over to where his bodyguard was standing and flicked the clasps of the metal suitcase open. He tilted the case so Brett and Rock could see a small canister nestled into the center of a bed of foam.
“Wait!” Tara ordered. “Shit, that canister is half the size of the one stolen. He split the fucking thing in two. He’s selling to both buyers!”
Rock immediately brought his gun up and fired at the guard with the gun trained on them. The guard collapsed a second before the other guard’s head exploded and a boom echoed in the distance two seconds before Lucian and Slade popped out of their makeshift hidey-holes, their guns at the ready.
“Damn, I’m good,” Mikayla whispered over the comms.
“Shoot them!” Gorin screamed, then stood petrified with fear as Brett approached him, holding a gun pointed at his head.
“Sorry, dickhead, your boys out there can’t help you.”
Lucian and Slade walked over to join their other team members. “After sweating my ass off in there the least you could do was let me shoot the other one, Lynx.”
“Sorry, Slade. You were too slow. Next time,” Mikayla offered.
“Why did you do that?” Gorin stuttered out.
“That isn’t what we bargained for…is it, Gorin?” Brett asked calmly as he forced the dealer onto his knees.
“What are you talking about! The sarin is right there in the case!”
Brett moved closer until he was in Gorin’s face as Slade cuffed the man’s hands behind his back with a thick plastic zip-tie. “Oh, but that’s only half of the sarin, isn’t it?”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about!” Gorin exclaimed as he struggled against the bonds holding him. “A teaspoon of that stuff can wipe out a city! I was giving you what you asked for!”
“You really are an idiot,” Rock said as he used his booted foot to knock Gorin down. With his hands tied behind his back, Gorin could do nothing to stop himself from tumbling onto his face.
The surveillance van drove up and pulled to a stop. Gorin spit sand and dust out of his mouth and looked up at his captors. His face paled as he saw Tara get out of the driver’s side of the van. With slow determined strides, she sauntered up to the man, smiling down at him with hard eyes.
“Hiya there, asshole, remember me?”
* * * *
“Damn it, don’t they play anything but country and rap anymore?”
Slade drove the jeep while Adrian fiddled with the radio, switching from station to station, trying to find a song he approved of. Tara and Mikayla sat in the backseat, gently swaying with the motion of the moving vehicle.
“Just pick something before I put my fist through the damn thing,” Slade ordered, never taking his eyes off the road. “You’re giving me a headache.”
“This fucking music is giving me a headache. Ah, here we go.” Lucian finally settled on a rock station that didn’t suck.
The four of them were headed back to the hotel while Brett, Rock and Lucian had taken off with their prisoner restrained in the back of the surveillance van. If John Gorin knew anything more than what he had already told them, the men would get it out of him.
Once they were done, they would hand him off to another team where he would be escorted to an IAD facility to be more thoroughly debriefed. Then he would disappear for good.
The black market dealer had split the canister of sarin in two, hoping that he could get twice the amount of money for the stolen product. He had lost two of his own men in the process, but that didn’t seem to faze him. As long as he made a profit, that was all he cared about.
Where the team should have been celebrating for capturing one of the world’s nastiest pieces of shit, they were left with feelings of defeat. There was no way for the IAD team to know that Gorin had already sold the other canister to Hassan Sharif a few days ago. Now it was up to them to take him down before he had a chance to use it.
In the back seat of the jeep Tara looked over at Mikayla, noticing for the first time since the op that she didn’t look so hot.
“What’s up?”
“Nothing,” Mikayla replied. Tara knew that she lied by the flat tone of her friend’s voice and the paleness of her usual lightly bronzed complexion. There was a thin sheen of sweat coating Lynx’s skin that had nothing to do with the sunny Vegas afternoon.
“Lynx…”
“Shit. Pull over!” Mikayla ordered. Slade slammed on the brakes and pulled the car quickly to the side of the road. Mikayla threw open the door just in time to stumble out before she was violently ill.
Tara hurried out of the car after her, reached out to hold back her friend’s hair as Mikayla was sick over and over again until there was nothing left in her stomach. When she was done, Slade quickly swept her off her feet and set her back down in the small patch of shade the vehicle provided from the bright rays of the sun.
&nb
sp; “What’s wrong, hon, are you injured?” Slade asked, his voice rough with concern.
Adrian twisted the cap off of a water bottle and handed it to Mikayla. She took it gratefully and took a sip, swishing the liquid in her mouth before spitting it out. She repeated the process three times before she let herself drink some of the water. Slade pulled out a piece of the mint gum he was never without and popped it into Mikayla’s mouth.
“Sweetie, what is it?” Tara asked softly.
Mikayla simply sighed as she leaned her head back against the jeep and closed her eyes. She opened them again and sent them all a sheepish smile. “Sorry, guys, didn’t mean to worry you.”
“Fuck that, Lynx, I’m still worried,” Slade said as he took a seat on the ground next to her. “Tell me what’s wrong, damn it!”
“Do we need a medivac?” Adrian asked, already pulling out his phone. The men never did handle a situation well when one of the women on the team was hurt.
“No, I’m fine, really. It’s just…I hit two hundred.”
“Oh…shit,” Tara breathed.
“What the fuck does that mean?” Slade demanded.
“It means I hit my two-hundred-targets mark,” Mikayla repeated. Both men cursed under their breath as they finally understood.
“Why didn’t you let me kill that guard?” Slade said. “I could have—”
“I had the shot. Besides, I knew I was going to reach this number eventually…it just hit me harder than I thought it would,” Mikayla explained.
Each of the agents knew the toll taking a life took on one’s soul. For the snipers in their group, it was harder. To stare down the sight of a scope and look at their targets up close would get to anyone and for a sniper of Mikayla’s caliber and her big heart, it was worse.
Tara thought back to all the people she had killed in the line of duty and realized she didn’t really see them as people when she was working. There was part of her psyche that helped her compartmentalize what she did so she could continue to do so. She knew that the individuals IAD went after were bad people, and if left free, they would kill countless innocent victims. It was that fact that allowed each of the agents to continue to fight and safeguard those who knew nothing about the darker side of humanity.
Even so, Tara’s heart went out to her friend as she was forced to deal with her own truth.
“I’m fine, really.” Embarrassed now, Mikayla tried to get up only to be held back down in place.
“Do you want to quit, Lynx?” Slade asked softly.
Mikayla sighed. “Yes and no. No.”
“Sweetheart, maybe you just need a vacation,” Adrian said, his voice gentle, still filled with concern.
“I don’t want to quit, not really. I just have these moments…you know.”
Tara and Adrian shared a look between them. No, neither of them had ever considered quitting the life and wouldn’t until they were too old to do it anymore.
“I know,” Slade said, surprising them all. “I’d love to settle down, raise a family, but what’s a guy like me to do? I’m built for combat.” His voice held a hint of mockery in it.
“Yeah, what’s a girl to do when she has a talent for killing?” Mikayla shook her head. “Seriously, guys, I’m fine now. I just want to get back to the hotel, take a hot shower, and get some rest before we start the next phase of this bullshit.”
They all stood up and got back in the jeep. Slade put the vehicle in drive and the silence that filled the small space had all of them thinking about what the future would bring.
Chapter Nineteen
Tara was brooding.
She didn’t like it when other people did it and she certainly hated it when she did it. What was the point? She was asking herself that while she left the elevator back at the Palace Hotel and got out on her floor. Bracing her hands on her hips, Tara glared at the door of her suite. She should just go in and take her shit mood with her. Away from anyone who might get singed by the heat of her temper.
That’s what she should do…
Instead, Tara found herself stomping down the hallway, over to Julian’s door. She knew he was in there because Devon had paused to tell her as soon as he saw her enter the building. As if he had been waiting for her. She didn’t ask for Julian to check in with her, did she? No, he was a grown-ass man and…
Shit, shit, shit!
Tara leaned her head on the closed door of Julian’s suite and closed her eyes. In this type of mood, she was bound to pick a fight. That wasn’t what she wanted to do. What she wanted was to forget about everything for a little while.
To be someone else for just one fucking minute.
It had almost killed Tara to see her friend Mikayla so torn up by what they did. Tara could sympathize with her, but she couldn’t understand the desire to quit. This was in her blood. It was who she was and she wouldn’t want to do anything else.
So why was she so fucking sad?
Tara’s hands jerked up to brace herself on the door frame as the door suddenly opened. Julian reached out and grabbed onto Tara before she could fall.
“What the hell!”
“Tara?”
The concern in Julian’s voice made her snarl at him and pull away as she stomped into the room. “What?”
“What were you doing?”
“Nothing.”
“It’s not nothing. Why were you leaning on the door like that? Devon called up and told me you’d just got back and—”
“Devon’s a big, fat fucking tattletale,” Tara mumbled.
Julian closed the door and in three long strides grabbed onto her shoulders in a tight grip. “Are you injured? Were you hurt?”
She felt her temper fade at the utter terror on his face. “No, I’m fine.”
Julian sighed with relief. “Good. Oh no, was someone else hurt? Please, tell me everyone is okay.”
Tara felt her mood shift completely and, instead of fighting him, she wrapped her arms tight around his waist.
“Baby…tell me what’s wrong?”
“I’m fine.”
Julian gripped her shoulders again and jerked her away from him to glare down at her. “Why are you so fucking stubborn?”
Tara slapped his hands away and moved further into the room to lean against the back of the couch. “Now I’m stubborn because you don’t get your fucking way?”
“Don’t get my way?” His voice had gotten dangerously low. “You can say that to me after you’ve been out doing god only knows what, and I’m just supposed to pretend I don’t see something is wrong?”
Was his…Oh yeah, his eye was definitely twitching.
Tara let her anger take center stage. “What do you want from me? Do you really want me to boohoo all over your shirt because, what? I did my goddamn job? Get real, Julian.”
“What I want from you is for you to be here with me!” Julian raged at her. “I’m getting pretty damn dizzy from you flipping back and forth. You hold onto me one moment like you never want to let go then you push me away in the next. You are going to have to make up your mind soon, Tara. Either you trust me or you don’t. You’re putting your past between us and I don’t like it. I deserve more than getting slapped down every time I reach out to you!”
Panic set in and made her even angrier. “I am with you! I’m wearing your damn ring, aren’t I? If you have a problem with my past, then fine. That’s what it is, your problem!” She pushed off the couch and moved to walk around him but Julian placed his large body in front of her, holding her trapped in place against the high back of the sofa.
“Are you?” His voice cracked like a whip. “Are you with me? I had to practically force you to wear that fucking ring. You didn’t even say yes. Are you really with me or are you just going along with it until you’re ready to leave?”
Outrage had her gasping. “Do you honestly think I would wear your ring, have everyone think I am your fiancée if I didn’t really want to marry you?”
“I don’t know. That’s why I’m
asking. I want you to tell me what the fuck is going on so I don’t have to guess anymore. I’m supposed to be your fiancé but you still won’t talk to me about your life. You share more with those damn twins than you do me. Do you think I like that?” Julian tried to rein in his fury, but then thought, fuck that. He needed answers. “Tell me, do you want to marry me? Do you even care about me? Tell me something, damn it!”
Did she care about him?
Tara felt his words like a blow to the stomach. “You really want to know me?” Her voice shook with emotion. Tears filled her eyes but she refused to let them fall. She felt the cracks tear open her heart, until she was bleeding from it. She would bare herself to this man, and see what the fallout would bring.
It was all or nothing now.
“Fine, here it is. I’m terrified of marriage because I saw what it did to my mother. My father broke her down, changed her until she was nothing but a shell, and then killed her. He almost killed me, too. I was eight fucking years old. My only other family was my aunt and uncle, whom I went to live when I got out of the hospital after my father nearly beat me to death. But they didn’t want me. Not really, so they shut me out completely. I joined the CIA to get away from them. I was one of the youngest field agents in history just so I could get the fuck away and start a new life.”
Her throat felt like it was on fire. Her vision blurred as she forced herself to say the words that had been eating away at her soul out loud.
“My first mission out, I was left for dead. The twins were the only reason I survived. Do you really want to hear how they helped me survive? Would that make you feel better to know how scared out of my mind I was back then? How I would have died without them protecting me? They mean the world to me, but we realized that we weren’t right for each other in that way. That I didn’t love them like that. They are my family now. I’ve been through hell that you can only imagine in your perfect little world.”