Dangerously Deceived

by Sidney Bristol

  This wouldn’t last. Just like the pleasure he’d give her, it would be over soon. Which was why holding onto this moment was important.

  Carla reached up and cupped his face so she could stare into his eyes. The deeper browns had gone nearly black, and the depths swirled with emotions she felt. This was special. Unique. Theirs.

  I love you.

  Those words wanted to bubble up out of her. She bit her lip to keep them in.

  Vaughn crushed his mouth to hers. She poured every bit of those feelings into the kiss, wishing he could feel that, too. His cock stroked into her, rubbing all the right places.

  Carla cried out, her over-stimulated body unable to hold out against the sensual assault he waged on her. Vaughn buried his face in her neck and rocked into her, his movements jerky, sloshing the water around his thighs. She held onto him, kissing him to keep from saying what she knew would destroy her heart.

  She wished she could call him hers. The forever kind of hers. Because sex like this wasn’t just sex. It was more, and she knew it. She’d found it, and regardless of what Vaughn said right now she’d seen the proof. He was a man who wanted—deserved—it all and wouldn’t settle for less.

  15.

  Tuesday. Secondary Safe House, Beirut, Lebanon.

  Vaughn peered out the windows at the street, looking into the darkest shadows. The gear waiting for them at this location was bare bones. There weren’t enough cameras to cover each street, entrance and blind spot. Which meant they had to rely on people watching things and everyone was running on fumes.

  The timer on his phone went off again, signaling another fifteen minutes had passed.

  He reached up and tapped the comm. “Hey, B. How’s it looking?”

  “All quiet,” Brenden replied.

  “You good? Need coffee or anything?”

  “Nope.”

  “Sorry you got dragged into the overnight shift.”

  “It’s all good.”

  Vaughn ground his teeth together.

  It wasn’t good, and they all knew it.

  They each had their demons. No one did what they did and slept easy at night. Dreams were full of friends they’d lost, decisions they should have made, moments they’d hesitated. But Brenden’s demons were worse. Which was why they’d restructured their team so he didn’t spend the long hours at night alone.

  Brenden had spent enough time alone in the dark during the months he’d spent as a POW. They didn’t do that sort of thing here on the Lepta Team. Some jobs forced them to make tough decisions, but they always went back for their own. Their people weren’t disposable.

  “Your brother okay?”

  Brenden’s voice surprised Vaughn. The other man wasn’t talkative.

  “Yeah.” Vaughn swallowed and pressed on when he’d normally say nothing further. “He’s in rehab.”

  “Think it’ll stick?”

  “We’re hoping. He’s the one who wanted to get clean, so at least there’s that.”

  “That’s some tough shit.”

  “Yeah.” Vaughn glanced over his shoulder, as if he could see through the house. “What about you? How’s your family?”

  “Don’t know.”

  Vaughn couldn’t wrap his head around not speaking to his family. Yeah, the other guys busted his balls, calling him a mama’s boy. But he loved his mom. She was the reason he’d made it in life.

  Once again Brenden’s voice came out of the darkness, unexpected and this time a little different. “Sister posted she’s having another baby on social media.”

  “How many is that now?”

  “Three.”

  “She still married to that guy? The—what’s he do?”

  “Forensic accountant, and yeah.”

  “You thought about visiting them again?”

  “I can’t.”

  Why?

  The question stuck in Vaughn’s throat.

  He knew why.

  Brenden had his demons under control, for the most part. But sometimes they slipped their leash. Vaughn could understand and respect Brenden’s instincts to stay away from the children, even if he didn’t fully agree with them.

  “Headlights,” Brenden said.

  Vaughn swiped through the cameras and watched a delivery van rumble past then away.

  “Clear,” he responded when the vehicle remained out of sight for a count of thirty.

  A bit of gray tinged the horizon.

  With any luck, today was the day they’d wrap this job up. He didn’t like how hamstrung they were. They’d been backed into this corner where they were forced to react. It wasn’t how they operated. Of all the countries in the world, this job had to happen in Lebanon, where they had zero resources.

  A pinpoint of light flipped on, caught by one of the cameras.

  “I’ve got something on the west side of the building.” Vaughn moved toward the side of the house. He’d have a straight line of sight on whatever was producing it.

  “I see it, too.”

  “I’m checking it out. Hold your position.”

  Vaughn entered the dining room via the salon. He watched the pinpoint grow larger, swaying back and forth as though someone were walking.

  He pressed his back to the wall then peered out past the curtains.

  The figure of a man wearing a long coat was easier to make out than on the tablet screen.

  “Just a guy on foot.” That coat though... “Hey, what’s our temp right now?”

  “Fifty something?”

  Vaughn remained where he was, watching the man come closer. And closer.

  The man did a sudden left turn down a narrow street and passed out of sight. Something about that coat still sat wrong with Vaughn.

  He returned to the salon with its view of the street along the front of the house and took up a post in the corner. From this position he could see where the narrow street met with the main thoroughfare.

  The minute dragged on and the man didn’t come into view on any camera.

  “Something’s not right. Where’d that guy go?” Vaughn asked.

  “Maybe he works in one of those shops?” Brenden replied.

  It was a logical thought, but something about the guy didn’t sit right with Vaughn. Or maybe he was paranoid.

  He leaned left a bit to try to get a better view of the main road, but the same tree still blocked his line of sight.

  A light flashed out of the corner of his eye. He moved, reacting on instinct and threw himself back against the wall. The window shattered, right where he’d been standing.

  “He’s on the roof,” Brenden called out.

  Vaughn dropped the tablet and went to a knee, drawing his Glock. He caught a flash of movement, but couldn’t be certain it was their shooter and not a bystander.

  “Shit,” he muttered. “I don’t see him. You?”

  “It’s clear.”

  Again, something out of the corner of his eye caught Vaughn’s attention. He glanced left in time to see the man with the long coat drop two stories to the ground to land in a crouch.

  “Front of the house, sidewalk.” Vaughn pivoted and fired.

  The man dove behind a car, quick as a cat.

  “How the hell does he move so fast?” he had a really bad feeling about this.

  “I don’t see back up,” Brenden’s voice was tense now.

  “I think our one-man-army found us,” Vaughn said. “Get the others. Now.”

  With three of their team facing off against the guy, they hadn’t scratched him yesterday. Vaughn wasn’t going to make a stand. They were better off retreating. Their goal wasn’t to dig in, it was to save their assets and get home. Whoever this guy was, it was something else entirely.

  “What the hell?” Grant called out from the stairs.

  More feet the floor overhead.

  A dark figure sprinted for the stone wall surrounding the house. At only four feet, it didn’t offer any real protection.

  Vaughn aimed, fired, missed.


  The guy dodged and vaulted, getting behind the waiting SUV out front.

  A moment later the tires hissed.

  “He’s taking out the vehicles,” Vaughn said.

  Grant and the others rushed in, keeping low, posting up at the windows, rifles in hand.

  Nolan peered out. “Who the hell is this guy?”

  “I don’t know, but he’s made his intentions clear.” Vaughn glanced at Grant. “He’s coming in here, and I don’t know about you, but this fucker isn’t natural.”

  “Agreed.” Grant stared at the dropped tablet. “Let’s lure him in. Fall back to the stairs. Vaughn, secure our asset. Brenden, keep the rear clear for a quick escape out the back. Nolan, you have the back up’s keys?”

  “Yup,” Nolan replied.

  “Get Farez and the SUV. Go. Everyone, move, now,” Grant ordered.

  Vaughn crouched and sprinted across the salon as fast he could. His boots thundered on the tile and stone, the others falling back on his heels. He climbed the stairs two and three at a time to the second floor.

  There were only two ways to reach this level.

  The front stair and a servant’s stair that let out near the kitchen.

  “Vaughn, get the cash. Carla has it,” Grant said.

  Brenden’s voice overshadowed their Team Leader’s. “He’s coming.”

  “Fire in the hole,” Nolan warned.

  Vaughn reached the second floor as a loud crash resounded through the house.

  A shapely figure filled a doorway.

  “Vaughn?”

  Before he could reply a boom rocked the house. Light and smoke poured up the stairs.

  Flash grenade.

  He tuned out the sound from downstairs and focused on Carla. He rushed toward her, his entire focus on keeping her safe now.

  “Shoes. We have to go. Now.” He crowded her back in the room and went to a knee, turning to face the stair, gun up. “Get the case.”

  “What’s going on?” Carla’s voice rose, but he could barely hear her.

  Bullet’s ripped through the pre-dawn calm. Men yelled, called out to each other. Adrenaline made all the smells and sounds sharper, more vivid.

  A hand grasped Vaughn’s shoulder. “Ready.”

  “Back stair. Move.” He stepped out, his focus still on the front stair.

  Carla slipped past him. They’d talked through this. He’d been afraid she might freeze up, but she didn’t.

  He twisted his body, heading for the servant stair while watching the front of the house.

  “Grant?” Vaughn said.

  Nothing.

  The voices he was hearing echoed. They weren’t in Vaughn’s ear. Were the comms malfunctioning? Had something happened?

  No more gunfire.

  Had they taken the guy down?

  Vaughn didn’t think a guy like that would be hit so easily.

  “Wait.” He whirled, grabbing Carla’s hand and hauling her up the two stairs.

  “What?”

  A figure darted around the bend in the stairs. He was too tall, too lean to be part of Vaughn’s team.

  Vaughn shoved Carla down and lifted his gun. The figure leapt from the landing toward Vaughn, hand outstretched. Vaughn fired, hitting the man square in the chest. The blow knocked the man back, giving Carla enough time to scramble out of Vaughn’s way. He dashed down the stairs, shutting off the surge of questions.

  What about the others?

  Were they alive?

  Could he and Carla be all that was left?

  He couldn’t process those right now. If he didn’t take out this guy, he’d kill them all. Vaughn had no doubt about that.

  The man shoved to his feet as Vaughn reached him, driving his hand up and Vaughn’s gun off its mark. Again, Vaughn hadn’t been prepared for the speed at which the man moved. Vaughn swung his left hand and connected with the man’s jaw. His head snapped back, off seating the knit cap covering the upper part of the guy’s face.

  Instead of a dark head of hair and brown skin, the attacker’s hair was light brown shot through with blonde. Vaughn had the impression of fair skin with a liberal amount of freckles before the man rushed him.

  Vaughn squeezed the trigger, but the shot went wide. The man dropped his shoulder and rammed Vaughn against the wall, driving the air out of his lungs. Vaughn brought his knee up and rammed his left elbow down at the same time, connecting with Kevlar and soft flesh. He swung his gun, cracking it against the attacker’s head.

  The guy stumbled back, barely stunned by the blows.

  “Move, Vaughn!” Carla cried from the top of the stairs.

  He glanced up.

  She held a bleach bottle in her hands and something over her face.

  Vaughn dove up the stairs.

  She threw it.

  He caught a whiff of something truly foul and overpowering. His eyes teared up and his nose burned from even that brief contact.

  Carla grabbed at his shoulders and hauled him up by the straps of his vest.

  “Don’t breath. Eyes closed,” she said in a rush.

  God, he didn’t want to know what was in that bottle.

  He squinted long enough to scoop up the case, wrap an arm around her and ran for the front stair.

  Chunks of stone and tile were missing from the stairs.

  Blood splattered against one banister.

  But no bodies.

  One of the front doors was off its hinges and the other had fist sized holes blasted through it. A gun he didn’t recognize lay on the floor.

  Brenden leaned into view. “Come on.”

  Vaughn and Carla sprinted through the opening. Brenden moved to cover them, bringing up the rear. A third SUV idled at the curb, its windows down, guns aimed at the house. The rear door opened and Vaughn half threw Carla in, piling in nearly on top of her.

  “Go,” he snarled before the door even shut.

  The wheels screeched as they pealed out.

  “What the fuck was that?” Vaughn tossed the case into the back seat and scooped Carla out from under him.

  “Bleach and drain cleaner,” she said from between breaths.

  “What?” Nolan choked from the driver’s seat.

  Vaughn blinked at Carla’s figure in the dim interior of the SUV. That wasn’t what he meant, but damn. “Quick thinking.”

  “Isn’t that chlorine gas?” Jamie asked from where he crouched in the very back of the SUV watching out the back windows. Farez was with him. Good to see they hadn’t left anyone behind in all that.

  “Yeah.” Vaughn helped Carla with her seatbelt before securing himself.

  “Whoever—whatever—that is, he nearly took us out. All of us.” Grant twisted to glance back at them. “You guys okay? You get the cash?”

  “Yeah.”

  “We’re making this trade now, before we all get killed.” Grant frowned. “Who speaks Arabic?”

  “Uh, not really.” Vaughn sure as hell didn’t.

  Harper had served as translator yesterday.

  “God damn it,” Grant roared.

  “I could,” Farez said.

  “He can.” Carla sat up straighter. “I trust him.”

  “Why not call home?” Vaughn asked. That was their logical option.

  “All comms, phones, everything are fried.” Grant’s grimace deepened the lines on his face. “The guy must have had some sort of short-range EMP on him. It didn’t kill the SUV in the garage, but it fried everything up to the second floor where you were.”

  “And if the Lebanese government is looking for us, calling home will give away our location. Shit.” Vaughn leaned his head back.

  They were going to have to trust Farez. Vaughn didn’t like it. He couldn’t control what was said, and they had to rely on someone they couldn’t completely trust.

  If Vaughn thought he could load Carla up and take her home, he’d do it. He didn’t want to risk her. But he also knew she wouldn’t stand for something like that.

  “Stop the truck,” Va
ughn said.

  “There’s a store.” Grant pointed at a corner convenience store.

  Nolan brought the SUV to an abrupt stop, bouncing one wheel up on the curb.

  Vaughn got out and circled around to the back of the SUV. He jerked the door open, leaned in and grabbed Farez by the shirt, dragging him closer until their noses almost touched. “You do anything to get Carla hurt I will do everything in my power to make you regret it.”

  Carla leaned over the back seat. He could see her scowl illuminated by the dome light. “Vaughn. Stop it, Vaughn.”

  He kept going, willing the man to understand just what was at stake. “I won’t come after you. I’ll go after people you care about. Got it?”

  Farez didn’t look away. He held Vaughn’s gaze the whole time. “I don’t want anything bad to happen to her either.”

  “Good.”

  Grant approached from the other side with a new burner phone and a knife in hand. He didn’t comment on Vaughn’s threats. They were so far outside operational protocol and normal procedure they were making it up as they went. At this point whatever hurt the fewest innocents and got them home was fine. Grant sliced the phone free and spent a moment powering it on.

  “Here.” He thrust the phone at Farez. “We want a meet. Five mil is our offer. One hour.”

  Farez nodded and took the phone. He dialed as Grant directed and hit the speaker button.

  The line rang. And rang.

  A male voice answered.

  Farez replied.

  Vaughn watched Farez’s face, trying to detect any malice or duplicity. He had their lives in his hands, and their team had not been kind to the man.

  Farez scowled and shook his head, voice growing tense.

  “What?” Grant whispered.

  The man on the phone spoke in a rush, the anger rising.

  Farez’s scowl was real. Honest. “He says two hours and Carla makes the trade, or he won’t show.”

  “Hell no,” Vaughn said.

  Carla leaned even further over the seat. “I’ll do it.”

  “Time and place?” Grant asked.

  “You can’t be serious.” Vaughn turned toward his TL. “The last time our assets went into a meet look what happened?”

  “And we’re running out of time and bargaining power.” Grant glanced at Farez. “Set it up.”

  Vaughn gaped at the man. Couldn’t they see it? This was a mistake.