If only I could get out of this clinging, sweet-scented mass that was threatening to choke me, I might be able to get on with what I was supposed to be doing and think straight. Every time I managed to get a handhold in the creeper, it seemed to suck me inside and wrap itself around me. Either that, or the vines I caught hold of were not as strong as I thought and they ripped away from the wall, leaving me dangling precariously or in danger of dropping back down onto the boiler house roof. Looking down, there was a mess of vines and purple flowers on the roof that would be a giveaway to the way I’d gotten in. Fuck it. I’d be long gone by the time anyone came looking for me. Eventually, after what felt like a prolonged fight with nature, I got a hand onto the terracotta tiles of the roof of the main house and hauled myself up.
I took a second to crouch on the rooftop and regain my breath. Three floors up on the roof of Villacruz’s headquarters. I was here, carrying out the commander’s orders. Killing at his command once more. For the past sixteen years, that had been my purpose in life. So why did it suddenly feel hollow?
“Are you scared, boy? Is the Mabono chicken-shit?” I could see the commander’s face, hear the sneer in his voice. I was ten years old again, there was a gun pressed against my temple and piss trickled down my legs. I wasn’t allowed to cry.
Shaking myself out of my trance, I glanced at my cell phone. Time to go. Keeping low, I made my way along the roof until I was directly above Villacruz’s office. Sliding noiselessly into place, I swung my body down onto the balcony and slipped the gun from its holster.
There was no sound from within and a cold hand twisted in my gut. What if, unable to restrain himself, Villacruz was already inside Inge? The thought caused bile to rise in my throat, hot and stinging. She is mine. I won’t share her. The thought propelled me forward and I flung the wooden shutters open, stepping into the room.
The scene that greeted me was not what I expected. I paused just inside the room, taking it in. Villacruz lay on his back next to an open safe with a long, thin blade protruding from the center of his bloodied right eye. Inge, clad only in her underwear, was standing next to his body. She was perfectly calm, even had a slight smile on her face, as she leveled the gun she was holding at me.
“What the fuck...?” I didn’t have time to finish the question. That was when Inge shot me.
Chapter Nineteen
Jake
I went reeling back. My left arm was on fire and my brain was hammering out a wild mix of messages.
Inge shot me!
That seemed to be the most important thing on which to focus. I slumped against the balcony door frame, trying to ignore the sickly waves of shock that were threatening to overwhelm me. Black spots danced in front of my eyes and I made a heroic effort to blink them away.
“If you meant to kill me, you’re a crap shot.” Although my voice was weak, I figured it wasn’t bad for someone who had just taken a bullet from the woman he loves.
She came toward me, her expression serene. “I’m not a crap shot. I was aiming for your tattoo.”
I looked down at my arm. She had shot a neat chunk of flesh out of the crest on my arm. The one that told the world what a bad-ass Zimbabwean warrior I was. It seemed symbolic. Although the wound was deep, the bullet hadn’t done any damage to bone or muscle. I took back my previous comment. Inge had to be the best fucking shot I’d ever come across.
My own gun still hung limply from the fingers of my right hand. “Aren’t you scared I’ll retaliate?”
“You didn’t think I was going to let you have a real gun, did you?” That husky note in her voice made her sound like she was purring. “I sent a text to Alfredo last night. That’s a replica. A very realistic one.”
I hadn’t even checked when Alfredo and I had been in that dark, smelly restroom. I was getting sloppy. No, being with Inge had made me sloppy. While I’d been thinking about fucking her, she’d been thinking about this, about killing Villacruz and getting away from me. Everything the commander had told me about her was true. I glanced over at the body on the floor. The most closely guarded drug baron in Ecuador was dead and I’d been neatly framed. My blood was dripping onto the expensive rug. I’d ripped out half that fucking creeper getting up here. I was also willing to bet my wristwatch would be found next to Ricky’s lifeless hand, evidence of the struggle he had lost with his mystery killer. She really was the Seduction Squad’s finest.
“So what now? You start screaming that Villacruz has been stabbed, but you’ve managed to shoot his murderer? The guards come in here, and drag me off to be killed, with maybe a little light torture thrown in? Meanwhile, you walk away with the details to Villacruz’s bank accounts and the contents of his safe? Very neat, Inge.”
“That’s a tempting scenario, and I did consider it. But I could have killed you myself, Jake. So much neater than leaving you to Ricky’s guards, don’t you think?” She smiled, her heart-melting Inge smile. “Instead I’m going to let you go. The only reason I shot you was so I’d have your blood in here when I eventually call Ricky’s guards. Without it my story of the mystery killer who got away over the rooftops wouldn’t sound very believable.”
“You’re letting me go?” I gazed down at her in astonishment. “Why?”
For the first time since I’d come into the room, the mask slipped. The serene facade melted away and tears filled her eyes. She moved closer to me, standing on the tips of her toes so she could mold her body to mine. So that my cock fit neatly between the apex of her thighs. Even now, with my arm feeling like someone was driving red-hot razor wire into it and the sweat of shock rolling off me, I was hard as soon as she touched me. As soon as I felt her manipulative fingers running over my chest, I wanted to tug those lace panties down and fuck the life out of her. Fuck the life back into me. Because that was what Inge had done. I hadn’t been living when I met her. I’d been existing. Just. She’d made me whole, reached inside me and found the human being I thought had been destroyed. Nothing about us was conventional. Everything about us was real.
I took a moment to wonder how things would have turned out if we’d met in a normal way. If I’d seen those endless legs wrapped around a bar stool, noticed those glorious eyes in the gloom of a nightclub, bumped into her in a busy street and caught the full effect of that stunning body. Would we have discovered what we could do when we touched? What fire we could ignite between us? The impact we would have on each other’s lives? Would the magic have been there in the same way? It didn’t matter. Our worlds had collided when I snatched her off that hotel step. Wherever we went after this, both of us would be forever locked in that concrete bunker.
“Don’t you know? I thought you’d figured it out.” She pressed her lips to mine. “I’m letting you go because I love you, Jake.”
I raised my head and gazed into those incredible gray-green eyes and I knew she was telling the truth.
“I have to go back over the roof?” Through that fucking creeper?
“And you have to go now. I have a lot to do here.” She gave me a little shove in the direction of the open balcony door. “Goodbye, Jake.”
“Goodbye, Inge.” I didn’t need to tell her I loved her too. She knew.
Chapter Twenty
Inge
I wasn’t the same person I had been when I spent the evening in bed with the prince before sneaking out the back exit of the hotel. I couldn’t believe it had been only a week since Jake had abducted me and held me captive in that bunker. It wasn’t that I had become a complete stranger. I was still me. I still recognized myself. I just knew that I would see everything differently from now on because of Jake.
And I wanted that difference, that newness. I needed the change that he had brought with him. Only now, he was taking it away again. Stripping me raw of every defense I had and leaving me aching and exposed. All I wanted was to be able to turn back
time. To go back to that fateful night on those hotel steps and figure out a way to make things work for us. I wasn’t wishing Jake hadn’t happened to me. I was just wishing the circumstances had been different. But I couldn’t have that. Life didn’t work that way. Whoever said life was fair was a fucking liar.
I didn’t have the luxury of time to wallow in how it felt to lose him. To watch him swing awkwardly back up from the balcony and onto the roof. I could see how much pain it caused him to use his injured arm, but I knew he would get away. We were alike, Jake and me. He was a survivor too.
And he would leave a nice trail of blood across the roof to back up my intruder story.
I turned back into the room, moving quickly now. My neat little purse contained a larger fold-away bag and I opened this out. Kneeling beside the safe, I quickly located the envelope containing the photographs of Uncle Felipe and checked they were all there. There was also a sim card in the envelope with the photographs, and I allowed myself a sigh of relief. One of my fears had been that Ricky might have left the storage disk elsewhere as insurance. I slid the envelope into my bag. Then the cash. There was nothing else of any interest to me in the safe. I placed the bag containing the photographs and the cash in the bottom drawer of Ricky’s desk. I figured his guards would be like headless chickens when they knew he was dead. It wouldn’t take much ingenuity from me to get it out unnoticed.
I smiled as I took Jake’s wristwatch from my purse, remembering his annoyance when he couldn’t find it. I’d toyed with the idea of taking his cell phone, but I didn’t want to leave Ricky’s men any real clues to his identity. Placing the wristwatch next to Ricky’s body, I returned to the desk.
I didn’t dare use the landline, I wasn’t sure if Ricky had calls monitored from this office. Instead, I used his cell phone—I knew all his passwords—to send a message to the number I knew by heart. To the one person I knew without question would be there for me. Okay, to the other person I knew would always be there for me. My thoughts went to Jake. My life really had changed.
Signora. I used the Squad password so she would know the message was authentic. It’s Inge. I need you to get me out of Ecuador today.
The woman who held the secrets of the world’s politicians in her hands wouldn’t hesitate to pull in a few favors to get one of her Squad out of a fix. We were loyal to her and in return she repaid us with her unswerving commitment to our welfare.
There was nothing I needed on any of Ricky’s electronic devices—I already had every bit of information about his operation I could ever want—but I didn’t want anyone else to be able to access his bank accounts before I drained them. Taking a pen out of my purse, I unscrewed the end to reveal a tiny flash drive. Inserting it into Ricky’s desktop PC, I allowed the virus to upload. It would infect his networked devices, rendering everything useless in minutes. Meanwhile, I used his laptop to access his open email account and changed his password to the one I always used in these situations.
Once I had finished at his desk, I slid the flash drive back into the end of the pen and placed it back in my purse.
There was only one thing left to do. I hated the messy side of this job, but some things just have to be done. I went over to Ricky’s body and used a Kleenex to wipe the handle of the letter opener until I was sure it was clean. It made an unpleasant squelching noise in his eye socket and I grimaced. I preferred guns to knives, but as long as he was dead, I wasn’t going to complain. I had waited too long for this moment to start being squeamish now.
I glanced around the room, doing a final check to make sure I hadn’t missed anything. Everything seemed to be taken care of. A glance at the clock told me Jake must be out of reach of Ricky’s guards by now. Hopefully, he was already on the bus back to Quito, enjoying fond memories of the journey here.
It was probably time to start screaming.
Chapter Twenty-One
Jake
I squinted up at the anonymous office block. The bright sunlight was out of place with my mood. A week had passed since that day at Villacruz’s mansion. It felt like a fucking lifetime.
I flexed my left arm as I got out of the car. It ached a little and the stitches were pulling as the wound healed. I’d seen a paramedic friend as soon as I got home and he’d confirmed there was no lasting damage. The tattoo had been obliterated and I would always have a scar in its place to remind me of Inge.
Inge.
I closed my eyes against the fresh wave of pain that hit me. It had been like this constantly since the moment I’d left her. Me, the guy who thought he had been drained of human emotion. I was finding out the hard way that not only did I possess a heart, it was capable of hurting like a bastard. I was also getting used to reality. That I would have to spend the rest of my life learning to live without the only thing I really wanted. The only thing that made this newly discovered heart of mine beat in time with its true rhythm.
I was early for my appointment and there was a small park over the road from the office block, so I went and sat on a bench. It was late afternoon and a few commuters were starting out on the homeward journey. Normal life flowed around me and I sat in the middle of it, detached, alone and so damn sad it was beyond pathetic.
Before Inge my life was fucked up. Now? Now it was so far past fucked-up it felt like the world was broken. And I didn’t know how to put it back together. Well, I did, but I couldn’t have what I wanted. Like a kid deprived of his favorite toy, I wanted to throw the biggest, most destructive tantrum in the history of the universe.
I’d considered trying to find her. Trying to put the world back together. Even fucking abducting her again, if that was what it took. In my darkest moments, it seemed like a good idea. Me and Inge, back in that bunker, and everything and everyone else could go to hell. Then I remembered that I was on my way to a meeting with the man who had instigated this madness. And I was about to try to convince him that Inge was dead.
I’d thought about it long and hard and it seemed like the only way I could protect her. The commander had told me to kill her. And the commander got what he wanted. The man who had learned his craft in the killing fields of Matabeleland knew all about terror and control. If he knew she was still alive, he would see it as a failure. I didn’t care what punishment came my way. But what if he decided to take me off the job? To send someone else after Inge? I wasn’t prepared to contemplate the thought of where that might lead.
The commander had left Africa during the days of hyperinflation in Zimbabwe, protecting his billions by moving to America, buying his place in civilization. The unit was an elite force of mercenaries comprising the best of the War Veterans. By best, I knew, of course, that the commander meant those he could control. Those who, like me, had had their spirits broken back in the heat, dust and lawlessness of Africa. We did what he said without question. We did it well, and we got well paid in return. He ran the unit with an iron will. I glanced at my new watch. It was time to keep my appointment with him. Lateness, even by a few minutes, wasn’t an option.
I made my way through the intensive security system and up to the commander’s fifth-floor office. As always, his presence had an instant effect on me. It was as if the air around me became thick with my own fear. I could feel it, smell it, fucking taste it. I was ten years old again as I walked across the room toward his desk.
It was hard to tell how old he was, but to have taken part in the atrocities in Matabeleland he must have been in his late forties or early fifties now. He had the coiled strength and keen gaze of someone much younger. He wasn’t a big man. Standing, I towered over him. But his presence filled the room.
I could never see him without my memories taking me back there. Without seeing his hand encircling my arm as he dragged me out from under my bed. Without feeling his gun against my temple as he made me watch what they did to my family. I remembered how he would make the farmers sing songs
praising the regime while dancing on the mass graves of their friends and families, killed and buried minutes earlier. I remembered so many sick, fucked-up things this man’s mind dreamed up.
There is a tribal belief in my area of Zimbabwe that the tears of the living need to be spilled to allow the dead to be at rest. Every time he saw a tear in my eye, he would beat me until I learned not to cry. I never shed a tear for my family. I never allowed them to rest. “We are your family now, boy.” That was what he taught me.
“Have a seat, Jake.” His voice was rich, cultured. Not what you’d expect from a vicious murderer. This man partied with princes and presidents. Won awards for his humanitarianism, particularly his work with children’s charities.
I couldn’t count how many times he had shoved his cock down my throat when I was a child. The physical fucking stopped when I grew bigger than him and developed muscles. It was never mentioned now. But it glittered in the air between us. Another symbol of his power over me. The mind-fucking? That was still going on. Hard and hot and heavy.
“Villacruz is dead.” I hated the note of nervousness that crept into my voice whenever I spoke to the commander.
“I know. The word is already out.” He sat back in his chair, regarding me from beneath heavy eyelids. “You did well.”
I wanted to laugh. I did well? I did nothing. I thought of Inge, standing in Villacruz’s office in her underwear, with that slight smile on her face. “I was aiming for your tattoo.” God, she was magnificent.
“Are you sure you’re okay, Jake?” The commander was still watching me. “You seem...different.”
Seduction Squad: Captured Page 9