by Mia Dymond
Chaos parked next to a clump of trees and killed the engine. “You ready to rumble?”
He simply nodded and glanced into the side view mirror to assure Thunder and Rebel parked behind them. Both men exited Thunder’s truck, prompting both him and Chaos to do the same. While they grabbed their packs from behind the seat, he could’ve sworn the locusts sang the funeral march.
“You locked and loaded?” Thunder asked as they met at the tailgate.
“Always.”
The captain handed each of them a bulletproof vest and an earpiece. “Rebel will scout the perimeter so we know what kind of booby trap we’re walking into.”
Rebel tightened his vest around his torso, poked his earpiece into his ear, and then like the ghost he was, he faded into the night.
Ace braced his rifle against the truck, tossed his pack to the ground, and then yanked his tie from his collar. “I’ve got to get out of this monkey suit.”
“First thing I did,” Thunder mumbled.
While he unbuttoned his shirt and shrugged it from his shoulders and off his body, he gazed around the area, encouraged by the inky darkness. At least the cloud cover would somewhat protect them.
He bent to grab a black t-shirt from the duffel and then crammed it over his head. “How long do you think we have, Captain?”
“All night. He’s not going anywhere. It’s just a matter of dealing with his crew.”
“Piece of cake.” Chaos undressed and re-dressed beside him. “If I hit the boat first I can eliminate most of them.”
Ace stepped into a pair of jeans and then pulled them over his hips. “He may think twice without the get-away vessel.”
“Except, he has two hostages,” Thunder pointed out.
Sonuvabitch. Although Thunder’s statement wasn’t anything he didn’t already know, he wasn’t real keen on hearing it. Yet, facts were facts and sometimes the truth was a cold-hearted bitch. He crammed his feet back into his combat boots and squeezed the laces so tightly as he wound them around the hooks that he wasn’t sure they wouldn’t snap.
He straightened just as Rebel approached the truck. “Anything we didn’t already know?”
Rebel shook his head. “Not much. No one is watching the perimeter as far as I can tell. I’m assuming they’re planning an ambush when we breach the entry.”
“Any trip wires?” Chaos strapped on his vest and stuffed several explosive devices into the pockets.
“Not on the outside of the building.”
Ace snickered. “Wouldn’t help business to blow up the place.”
“Won’t stop me,” Chaos said matter-of-factly.
Thunder stuck his weapon in the strap on his vest. “Did you get a location on the occupants?”
“From my vantage point, I didn’t see anyone near the front door. I got several short pings from Carley’s phone – she’s inside. I’m assuming Ortega is waiting for us in the back and that Carley and Remington are stashed upstairs.”
Ace released a hard breath as he strapped his vest to his body and positioned the earpiece inside his ear. If Rebel’s assumption was correct and they could confront Ortega on the lower level, at least Carley would be outside the line of fire. Nah, that would be too easy. Ortega wasn’t stupid; he’s most likely run for Carley as soon as he was alerted to their presence.
“I disabled the cameras,” Rebel continued, “but once we enter, we’re fresh meat.”
Thunder lifted his wrist and soon the green light on his watch illuminated the area. “Any evidence of the transport?”
“No. In fact, the boat slips in the marina are empty.”
“Thanks to the construction,” Ace muttered.
Thunder stepped away from the truck. “It’s go time. Rebel and I will cover the doors. Chaos, the marina is yours.” Although he couldn’t see the captain’s face clearly, Ace knew he frowned. “Are you sure you want to break entry?”
“Absolutely.”
“Really?” Thunder pressed. “She may very well witness something you don’t want her to.”
He paused briefly to consider the other man’s warning while he admitted to himself that Carley could witness his murder. He quickly pushed that notion to the side as quickly as it had entered. It was worth the risk to save her life and that’s all there was to it.
“Absolutely,” he repeated.
Thunder nodded. “I expect to find all of us in one piece when this is over.”
“Same goes for the mark?” The cold tone in his teammate’s voice told Ace that they already knew the answer to Rebel’s question.
“Just us.” The captain moved his gaze directly onto him. “I’ll expect that wizard to work his magic.”
Bent low to the ground with his weapon in hand, Ace ran behind Thunder and Rebel to the entrance of the port. Following Thunder’s previous instructions, he crouched outside the front door. Chaos headed to the back of the building while Thunder and Rebel moved to cover the additional doors.
He took half a second to clear his mind and focus on the fact that no matter what happened to him in the long run, Ortega would pay and Carley would be freed. With his heart pounding in his chest, he stood, threw open the front door, and stepped inside.
He lifted his weapon to eye level, fitted his index finger to the familiar, worn notch on the trigger, and then issued a booming command. “Get the hell out here, Ortega.”
The fluorescent lighting hummed in the otherwise still interior, his request unanswered. This did not surprise him.
“You’re going to have to confront me one way or the other,” he taunted as he made his way to the back of the building. “Dead or alive, I really don’t care.”
Movement to his right and near the back door caused him to turn and aim his rifle just in time to see a large, burly man point a gun at him and then fall to the floor in a heap.
“Bingo,” Rebel said into his earpiece.
Encouraged that there was now just one target, Ace continued his search, convinced Ortega knew they had just taken his man down.
“Anyone have a fix on Carley?”
“Negative,” Thunder answered. “I’ve got Remington. They had him secured to a barrel on the dock. He advises they left her alone.”
Ace cursed under his breath. Obviously Ortega and his associate had separated their hostages. If Thunder had Remington, that left only one person to guard Carley.
He concentrated hard to keep a threatened quiver out of his voice. “Ortega! Grow some balls and face me.”
As soon as he issued the request, creaking footsteps caught his attention and he looked to see the man himself descending the flight of stairs – with Carley held at gunpoint in front of him.
“I am here, Mr. Moore. To what do I owe the pleasure of your visit?”
Ace snorted while he forced his incredible fear to the side. “You invited me, remember?”
“I do not.” He continued to maneuver down the steps while he pushed the weapon against Carley’s back. “But as long as you’re here, we might as well converse.”
“I didn’t come to talk.” He cocked the rifle. “Let her go.”
“I have no intention of doing so.”
“You don’t want her. You want me.”
“True.” The lunatic had the gall to smile. “But she can identify me in case of some unfortunate circumstance. That makes her a liability.”
Carley’s eyes rounded to the size of saucers and his heart turned over in his chest. He had to make the exchange as quickly as possible.
“We’ve got company,” Thunder said in his ear. “Get ready, Ace.”
As soon as the revelation resonated against his eardrum, an earth-shattering boom shook the building. Pieces of wood and plaster flew from the back of the building and into the area where they stood.
“Get down, Carley!” he yelled as he hit the floor to dodge the debris. “Are you there?”
“Yes,” she squeaked.
He hesitated only a second before he lifted his head to get a fix
on his target. Unfortunately, Ortega stood above her. Damn, the guy must have made a deal with the devil.
“Nice try.” The other man gave an evil snicker as he reached to pull Carley of the floor by one arm. “Get up, my dear.”
Carley stood and then began to struggle in his grasp. Ace quickly rose to his feet and centered Ortega back in the crosshairs of his scope.
“Be still, Carley,” he said calmly.
“She will do no such thing.” Ortega pressed the gun against her temple. “You drop your weapon or it will not matter how much she struggles.”
Ace knew he had no choice; it was now or never. He simply couldn’t take the chance Ortega would make good on his ultimatum. He drew in a slow breath, released it just as slowly, and just as his lungs pushed the last bit of air from his lips, he pulled the trigger.
Time stood still as he waited for the bullet to penetrate brain and just when he thought the wait was over, he was sure someone punched him in the gut. His hands relaxed on his weapon and both he and the rifle fell to the floor. He took one last look at Ortega on the way down, satisfied that the other man fell faster than he – with a blossoming red spot right between his eyes.
The last thing he heard as he lay flat on the concrete was Thunder’s voice in his ear.
“Man down.”
CHAPTER TEN
Ace rolled his head to one side and attempted to move his hips while he grimaced in pain at the stabbing sensation in his left side. His head pounded like a bass drum and his stomach muscles screamed at his movement. Damn, when did the semi truck mow him down?
He pried open his eyes and blinked several times in succession to clear the haze, confused by the sight of chrome bars at eye level. He frowned and moved his gaze up and over them, onto a square machine that stood next to the bed. Zigzagging lines ran across the screen, several wires hung from the base, and soft, rhythmic blips sounded in the otherwise quiet surroundings while he traced the wires with his gaze back to his chest. Realization set in when he took a very careful deep breath and then slowly released it. Obviously he lay in the hospital but why and for how long?
Breathing past the pain, he reached for a bar and attempted to sit up.
“Welcome back, Sleeping Beauty.”
The sound of Thunder’s voice caused him to move his gaze onto the other man. “How long have I been out?”
“In and out for the last twenty four hours.”
Memories of the mission suddenly invaded his brain and his head pounded even harder. Ortega was dead, that he remembered. Still, he needed help to fill in the blanks.
“Where’s Carley?”
“She had an appointment to talk to the doctor and then an errand to run.” The captain smirked as he stood, stepped to the side of the bed, and handed him the remote control. “She made me swear on my weapon that I wouldn’t leave until she gave me permission.”
He chuckled and then immediately cursed the motion when his side caught fire. “Did that sonuvabitch hit me?”
“Bullet penetrated your vest – not your flesh.”
He pressed the button to elevate his head, stopping at a halfway sitting position. “I’m pretty sure my ribs are broken.”
Thunder nodded.
“Anything else?”
“You went out when your head hit the cement.”
That explained the headache.
“Did Carley witness the action?”
Thunder nodded again. “She’s made of stern stuff.”
Although the captain’s compliment somewhat relieved him, guilt still poked him. He hadn’t intended for her to witness anything other than Ortega’s demise. As soon as she made an appearance, a huge apology was in order – after he inspected her from head to toe to assure she was in one piece. And that couldn’t be soon enough.
“Where the hell is she?”
“Relax. She had a list of things to discuss.”
Of course she did. He settled back against the pillows and waited. He knew from experience she would address everything on the list before she returned. He grinned. The good doctor probably never saw her coming.
He glanced back at Thunder. “Has Montez showed his ugly mug?”
“Negative. Not a word. Everglade SWAT scooped the Cubans from the water after Chaos blew the boat out from underneath them but nobody’s had much to say.”
“What about Remington?”
“Home. Safe and sound after Carley cleared him.”
“Doesn’t look like his expansion project has a chance without Ortega.”
“Nope. But he claims it doesn’t matter. He collected payment in full up front and plans to use it to improve what’s already there.”
“Smart.” He very carefully took a deep breath. “How long do I have to lay here?”
Thunder shrugged. “I have no idea. Carley can probably clue you in.”
Almost on cue, the door opened and she breezed through the doorway. He squinted as she covered the distance between them.
“Ace! You’re awake!” She stopped beside the bed and placed a soft kiss against his forehead. “How do you feel?”
“Like I’ve been run over,” he admitted. “Are you limping?”
“No.” She dismissed him with a wave of her hand before she grasped his right biceps and squeezed. “I’m not surprised you feel badly. Your left ribs are broken and you have a slight concussion.”
“I’m sorry you had to witness all that, Carley.”
Thunder cleared his throat and stood. “I’ve done my time. I’ll see you two later.”
Ace noticed that the other man glanced at Carley and quirked an eyebrow, almost as if he asked permission.
“Thank you, Thunder,” she answered with a sweet smile.
As soon as they were once again behind a closed door, Ace covered her hand with his. “Seriously, are you okay?”
“I’m fine. I’ll have to admit, you scared me to death but I owe you my life, Ace.”
He reached to move her hair back from the side of her neck and swallowed hard. “My pleasure, sweetheart, but there’s something else I need to tell you.”
She nodded and began to draw lazy circles with her thumb on his skin.
“I love you.”
“And I love you,” she said on a breathy whisper.
She leaned over the side of the rail and touched her lips to his and he moved one hand to the side of her face, caressing her soft skin beneath his palm. Genuine, honest love pounded his heart. This woman was now a part of him and no way in hell would he ever change that.
He continued to move his lips over hers, deepening the contact while he practiced great discipline to keep from swallowing her whole. He slid his fingers deeper into her hair, tightening his hold, an act of possession more or less. She was his and he dared someone to challenge him. Desperate to continue the intimate contact, he groaned when she released a soft sigh and lifted her lips.
She covered his hand with hers and smirked. “Oh yeah, I can take you home if you’re ready.”
“I’m ready.”
He tossed the sheet from his body and then groaned when the swift movement brought pain.
“Let me.”
Carley moved the cotton back, lowered the bedrail, and then offered a hand. He slipped his hand in hers and then accepted her gentle assistance as she eased him forward to sit on the side of the bed.
“Stay,” she told him as she turned and grabbed his t-shirt, jeans, and boots from a nearby chair. “Take a breath.”
He took an easy, deep breath as she lowered the shirt over his head and then very gently helped him to ease his arms through the openings. She set his boots on the floor beneath him, poked his feet through his jeans, and then pulled them up his legs.
“Lean on me to stand.” She gave him a sympathetic smile. “Your ribs are wrapped tightly. Just go slowly.
His head spun as he made the transition from sitting to standing and he willed his stomach to behave. Finally, his equilibrium leveled as she pulled his jeans over hi
s hips, zipped, and then buttoned them closed. He grasped her shoulder and crammed his feet into his boots.
She bent to lace them and then stood. “Let’s get you home.”
“You’ve never been home with me.”
“True.” She urged him toward the door with a hand on his shoulder. “Good thing you’re going home with me.”
After Ace lost a very short-lived argument with a nurse over riding in a wheelchair to the car, Carley slid behind the steering wheel and grinned.
“I’ll warn you now, the welcome wagon is waiting at the house for you.”
“I figured.”
“Are you sure you’re up for that?”
“I’m fine, really Carley.”
Suddenly, a small, unintended gasp escaped her lips and she reached down to rub her ankle. She squeezed closed her eyes and hoped it hadn’t been obvious.
Ace’s tone told her differently. “What’s wrong?”
“Muscle spasm,” she mumbled.
“Carley, look at me,” he demanded. “Did Ortega hurt you?”
“No!” she answered truthfully. “I must’ve just turned my ankle.”
She gave him what was meant to be a reassuring smile as she started the engine and drove to her house. She bit her lip at the throbbing sensation in her leg, determined to hide it from Ace until the time was right.
Now was not that time.
Once she parked in the driveway, she was relieved to see both her friends and his had already arrived. Within minutes, they entered the house and she managed to barricade him with pillows while he lay on the sofa. While he and his teammates discussed the last few days’ events, she escaped to the kitchen to join her friends.
“Ow, ow, ow!” She hopped on one foot – the one without the pain shooting through the ankle – and finally plopped down on a barstool. She kicked off a shoe and cradled her foot in her hands.
Kat raised an eyebrow. “Problems?”
“I hope not,” she mumbled.
“Let me see.”
“Okay, but no touching.”