Atonement: The Hunter Mercenary Series (Book One)

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Atonement: The Hunter Mercenary Series (Book One) Page 3

by Morgan Kelley


  Ethan pointed at the gun when the man’s finger moved to the trigger.

  “See? You’re willing to shoot the Deputy Director of the FBI.”

  Finally, he focused on Dakota. “We both know who you’re chasing, and while stupid, I’m still willing to help.”

  “And how do we know you’re on the up and up?” Rogue asked.

  “Because I have dossiers on all three of you. You,” he said, pointing at Dakota, “were a damn good US Marshal until you went off the reservation. Going rogue doesn’t suit you.”

  “Fuck you, Blackhawk. You don’t own me,” Dakota stated. “You don’t get to micromanage my life.”

  He held up an envelope.

  Dakota stared at it.

  “Yeah, actually, I do get to do just that when the three of you are drawing attention to yourselves. Dakota, the president knows what you’re doing, and he’s not happy that you don’t have a handler.”

  “I don’t care.”

  “I’m aware, but you DO NOT want his attention on you.”

  Dakota was pretty sure he didn’t.

  “Rogue, nice name, by the way—very appropriate.”

  He flipped him off.

  “I’m with him,” Zayn said.

  “Well, that gives me so much pause. A hired killer and a top-notch thief are against me. I’m scared.”

  Dakota cleared his throat. “Bonnie?”

  Ethan continued, “I know where she is. We have eyes on her hole. You don’t. You need me. I don’t give a shit what you think about me owning you.”

  That calmed Dakota down.

  “Prove it.”

  “She was in Atlanta, you tracked her to a diner in New Orleans, but she bailed ten hours ago. So close, and yet, so…”

  He was right.

  “Okay, so you know where she is. What does that have to do with me?” he asked.

  “You want her, and we need your help.”

  “What does that have to do with us?” Zayn asked.

  “Your sister’s killer is in town too. He took her, he abused her, and he drugged her up before he passed her around to a bunch of men,” he offered.

  That had his attention. “And?”

  “He was found in New Orleans two days ago. We know where. We have eyes on him too. You have to decide if finding your sister’s killer is worth a side job or two.”

  What he wasn’t telling him was that he was involved in the mess that was brewing. That man…he was dangerous, and the US Marshals needed more specific help to do things the ‘not-so-legal’ way.

  Here was that team.

  If Ethan could wrangle them.

  Zayn holstered his gun. “Finding him is paramount. Keep talking.”

  He pointed at Rogue. “Your father is a wanted man,” he said, pulling the third envelope out of his pricey suit jacket.

  “So?”

  “Finding out things about you was much harder. You’re a playboy, you’re in the spotlight, and you don’t care if people see you behaving badly.”

  “Again, so?”

  “You’re desperate to find him, and you have your reasons. Want me to bring them up?”

  “If I say no, will you respect that?” Rogue asked.

  “Yes.”

  Ethan watched the man carefully. He reminded him of himself. Half-white, half Native, and trapped between two worlds that hated you equally. He was in a suit more expensive than his, but petting a wolf.

  Rogue was an enigma.

  “Thank you for that,” Rogue said.

  He holstered his gun too.

  “I can help you locate him.” He held the envelope. “All I’m asking for is your help.”

  He thought about it.

  “Well?”

  “Sometimes, you have to take a risk,” Rogue said. “I’m good at risks.”

  He was aware.

  Ethan knew it was done, and from the smile on Marcus’s face, he did too.

  “And that is what we ask of you. We are here risking our own asses, and we figure you’re willing to do the job to get the reward.”

  There was the sound of a gate creaking, and both men pulled their guns again and pointed them at Ethan.

  Dakota did not.

  “Put the guns away, Zayn and Rogue. We aren’t impressed. Right now, you have a shooter at the top of that building and that one there.”

  As soon as he said it, two red dots appeared on their chests. They got it.

  They holstered them.

  Dakota was pretty sure he knew who it was too.

  “Awww, how sweet. Your bed buddies are watching your back, Blackhawk. What’s it like to have a pussy for a bodyguard?”

  The planter at his feet exploded with a bullet.

  Dakota dove behind a planter, as did the other two men. The two who didn’t move, laughed.

  “Don’t piss her off, Dakota. She’s not really happy with you, and I think she’d love to put a bullet in your ass.”

  He touched his ear.

  “She confirmed it.”

  “Sorry, Elizabeth,” he said, moving back out into the open, despite the risk. He wanted that Bonnie intel in the worst way.

  “What do I have to do to get that information?”

  Ethan handed this over to Marcus.

  This was his idea, and he was going to let the man handle it. Blackhawk took a seat, crossed his legs, and let the man do the deed.

  “We brought the three of you here to help us. We have a few cases that we can’t handle. They are out of the scope of our bureaus—if you know what I mean.”

  Oh, they got it.

  They wanted it handled ‘illegally’.

  They handled some things, and mercenaries handled the rest. They were now classified as the latter.

  “You three have your specialties. Dakota, you’re a hunter by nature. You can track, find, and handle most situations.”

  He didn’t say a word.

  Marcus continued, “You, Zayn, are muscle. You run headlong into the situation, and your sheer size freaks people out. You’re also good at security and watching people’s backs.”

  “And killing,” he stated. “I get a shitload of money for my skills.”

  They were aware.

  That’s why they were bargaining with intel. It wasn’t traceable like cash was.

  “We picked you for your ability to handle any situation,” Marcus stated.

  “Yeah, well, the military does that to you. It’s a dog eat dog world out there.”

  The dog beside Rogue barked.

  “See?” he said. “He gets it.”

  He went to pet him and the dog nearly took off his hand.

  “Jesus.”

  “Maybe he hates people or soldiers,” Rogue stated calmly.

  “Oorah,” Ethan offered.

  That had Zayn’s attention.

  “Yeah, I was a Marine. What’s it to you?” he asked, glaring at the man.

  Ethan laughed. “Marcus, you’re bat shit insane to even put these three misfits in a room together let alone in my home. They’re going to destroy it and themselves.”

  Yeah, he was beginning to believe that himself.

  Dakota figured this was the home of someone loaded. That meant Callen Whitefox.

  He was there too.

  Where his brother and wife were, he was not far behind.

  “As I was saying, Rogue, you’re the con man. You have the gift of talking yourself into any situation and out of them.”

  “Clearly, I’m not as good as you think if you’ve trapped me in this courtyard with Curly and Larry,” he said.

  Dakota objected. “I’m more Moe. You two look like the stooges.”

  The two men glared at him.

  Zayn cracked his knuckles.

  “Don’t bet on it,” he said, drawing a line across his throat, signaling that Dakota was a dead man.

  Yeah, this was a disaster.

  Still, Ethan let Marcus handle it.

  When he called in that favor, Ethan was just glad h
is wife didn’t have to play ‘kiss me, fuck me’ with Lottie Tipton.

  He’d take this mess any day.

  “Anyway, we have a case that needs your specialty. If you help us, we’ll help you. With the conclusion of the two cases, we’ll give you the details you need to find what you’re looking for in life—revenge for your sister’s death, your father, and Lottie Tipton.”

  That worked for Dakota.

  He was in.

  They had him at Bonnie.

  “What’s the case?” he asked, curiously. “If these two aren’t interested, I’ll do it alone. I want Bonnie’s head on a silver platter.”

  And that was why they were there.

  Off the record.

  They knew the President of the United States wanted her handled. This was the ONLY way they could see it getting done. Plus, if Bonnie was busy being chased, she wouldn’t be all over Elizabeth.

  Ethan was buying them time until the woman could be put down.

  “We are coming to you on the DL,” he said, pulling a folder out of his back pocket. He handed it to his partner in crime, and Ethan opened it.

  “Before we share this, we need to know if you’re onboard with this deal.”

  They didn’t move.

  Then Dakota did. He headed toward the man in a sign of faith.

  Someone had to do it.

  “I’m in.”

  Ethan waited. “Are you both joining us, or would you like to stand there and stare at me a little longer?” he asked. “Is it my native good looks?” he teased.

  “Yeah, half-breed, that must be it. Who was your momma slumming with?” he asked. “She must have liked big Native dick.”

  There was that sizzle of hostility.

  And then it went haywire.

  Rogue moved so fast that the man didn’t see him coming. He punched him in the face, taking the big man to the ground like a ton of bricks.

  “Is that a yes or a no?” Ethan asked, ignoring the killers being killers.

  He got it.

  They were hostile by nature.

  “I’m in,” Rogue said, shaking out his fist. “Jesus! His face is like a brick wall.”

  Ethan laughed.

  Marcus shook his head.

  As Zayn sat up, he glared at the man who sucker punched him. “I owe you one.”

  “Maybe you shouldn’t be calling people half-breed,” he said, sitting. “We can’t all be full native.”

  Ethan wasn’t offended either way.

  He was who he was. This was his life, and he had people who loved and accepted him. It was clear what emotional baggage those two men were carrying.

  One hated white men—likely because of his sister’s death, and one hated Natives—despite being half of one.

  Ahhh, this was going to be an epic clusterfuck.

  “As Deputy Director of the FBI, I’m not authorized to be here, but I do have a case if you’re all in,” he said, giving Zayn one last shot at it.

  “I have to do it now just so I can beat pretty boy’s face in,” he stated. “When he’s not looking.”

  The dog growled.

  “Kugsha, come.”

  The dog trotted over and sat beside Rogue. The entire time, it was watching the big man behind them.

  “Let’s go,” Marcus stated. “Play your games on your own time,” Marcus stated. “We don’t have time for jackassery.”

  The big man got up and took a seat.

  “Okay, here’s the deal. We were contacted by a very wealthy man. His family has been destroyed,” Ethan stated.

  “Pass,” Zayn said. “I’m not helping some white man get revenge.”

  He stood.

  “His two daughters and wife were taken from his home in a home invasion. We have word that they are about to be sold off into a sex ring. He’s paid the ransom, but they didn’t deliver the goods.”

  That shut him up.

  In fact, it hit a little too close to home for him. His sister had been taken, and they hadn’t had money to save her.

  He immediately felt for the man.

  “His daughters?” he asked.

  “Yes. This job is about finding all three, neutralizing the abductors, and shutting down the ring.”

  That got their attention.

  “When you say neutralize…”

  Oh, he knew what Dakota was thinking. That’s why this was being handled outside the scope of the government. No nation was completely on the up and up. They used killers to do the dirty work for high profile cases.

  The president wanted this handled and since it was on US soil, that meant the FBI and Marshals.

  “You are authorized to kill them, but don’t leave a trail.”

  That was all Blackhawk had to say. In that moment, the three men, Zayn, Dakota, and Rogue knew the truth.

  This was the real deal.

  When the head of the US Marshals and the FBI were there to talk killing, the shit was about to get real.

  “I’m in,” Dakota stated.

  “I’m in,” Rogue offered.

  It was up to Zayn.

  “In order for this to work,” Marcus said, “all three of you, the con man, the hunter, and the muscle, all have to work together to get it done. It won’t work without all three of you.”

  They all stared at Zayn.

  “And if I say no?”

  Ethan raised his hand slightly.

  Two red scope dots hit the man—one on his forehead, and one on his heart. They were steady, they didn’t falter, and the Native man got it.

  They really weren’t asking.

  They were insisting.

  Marcus Hunter and Ethan Blackhawk weren’t playing games. They were there giving orders, and it looked like those three weren’t the only ones who were going rogue.

  The two men in the suits were too.

  And that was some scary shit.

  “Well, since you put it that way,” Zayn said, having the two dots disappear.

  “Let’s talk case,” Ethan said, standing from the table in the courtyard.

  “Where are we going?” Dakota asked.

  Marcus stared at him. “You can’t handle the cases we’re throwing at you out of a hotel room, son. We have somewhere you can work and be invisible.”

  Well, that worked for him.

  He followed the two men without questioning it. In fact, Rogue Ravenscroft followed, too, and his dog.

  “Fucking sheep,” Zayn muttered. “This had better not get me shot. I hate getting shot.”

  Still…

  He didn’t stay behind. He was curious, and that was ALWAYS a dangerous thing.

  * * * H U N T E R * * *

  Inside the building, they couldn’t believe it. They were right off of Chartres Street, feet from the street trollies, and all the mayhem of New Orleans.

  Only, that wasn’t the most amazing part of all of it.

  No, they were in a pretty sexy building—meaning, the place was tech-ed and decked out.

  It was…incredible.

  As they walked into the main room, there was a HUGE screen on the wall, and Ethan took a seat behind a mahogany desk. It appeared to be the central command for the technology.

  He pushed a button, and the screen came to life. On it, there were ten little squares with more pictures in them.

  Five were bedrooms.

  “Shall we start the tour of the facility?” he asked.

  They didn’t argue, so he took that as a yes.

  “You have sleeping quarters upstairs,” he said, zooming in on them. “There are three floors above us, and one below. Each floor is private, has large personal space, and is assigned to each one of you.”

  The three men stared.

  They were pretty plush.

  “Okay, I’m impressed,” Dakota stated. Truthfully, he was tired of hotel rooms. The beds sucked.

  “You each have one bedroom and even space for ‘guests’.”

  “I hope you mean sexy women,” he stated.

  As if on
cue, there was feminine laughter coming their way from the French doors.

  All five men looked over.

  There, standing in the doorway was the epitome of sexy. She was dressed like a mercenary in all black leather and decked out with enough firepower to do some damage.

  “Well, boys, isn’t this cozy?” Elizabeth Blackhawk drawled, heading their way.

  The two Native mercenaries whistled.

  “I do love when men appreciate when I come to the party,” she stated, flipping her long braid over her shoulder.

  Dakota closed his eyes. “Yep, I’m in Hell. Someone let in the devil herself. I was hoping you weren’t here.”

  She laughed.

  Oh, she was NOT letting her husband play with killers without her.

  “Dakota, you always had a way of charming the ladies, and you wonder how you got into my britches. There it is right there.”

  Elizabeth headed toward her husband and Marcus. She shook one’s hand and kissed the other man.

  “Hey, baby. Did you get tired of sitting on the roof?” he asked when she stood behind him.

  “Yeah, you liar. You said I could shoot Dakota. I was waiting for the sign.”

  He laughed.

  The man didn’t.

  “Who’s the squaw?” Zayn asked.

  Elizabeth focused on him. “Who’s the steroid junkie with the tiny dick?” she countered.

  He growled.

  “Children, play nice,” Marcus stated. “If you don’t know her or haven’t seen the news, this is Elizabeth. She’s married to Ethan,” he said, as he pointed to one of the screens, “and Callen.”

  The other man saluted from the roof as his face appeared on the screen.

  The speaker came to life.

  “Tell that asshole when I see him, I’m going to show him what happens when natives throw ‘SQUAW’ around,” Callen stated from the sniper’s nest. “You’re in my home. Have some damn manners.”

  Zayn flipped him off too.

  “Anyway,” Ethan stated, moving through the screens. “You have a kitchen, and it’s fully stocked. Food deliveries are weekly, and they leave it in the back courtyard. All you have to do is bring it in.”

  The men stared at the screens.

  “That’s handy,” Zayn admitted. “I like food.”

  “Really? We hadn’t noticed,” Elizabeth said. “I hope you don’t get tired of carrying that ego around.”

 

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