Rogue Trilogy: Parts 1 - 3

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Rogue Trilogy: Parts 1 - 3 Page 13

by Jade Dean


  “In love?” she said, as if the words were completely alien to her. “You are not going to fuck me, are you?” she said angrily.

  “Nope.” He shook his head then went very still when she straddled him and scooted forward until her pussy was hovering over his mouth.

  “If you won’t put your cock inside me, your tongue will have to do.” Showing him the knife, she put it against his throat. “Make me come, or I will make you bleed.”

  Staring up into her slightly crazed eyes, he shook his head again. “I’d rather die than to put my mouth on your diseased vagina.”

  Gasping in rage, Tatiana climbed off him then lifted her knife up high.

  “Tatiana,” a voice said almost mildly through a hidden speaker. She paused and looked around the room wildly. “I thought I told you not to harm Agent Sheldon.”

  Ryan recognized Diego’s voice and realized there had to be a camera hidden somewhere in the room. His blood ran cold when he remembered what he’d just told Tatiana. Diego now knew his weakness, even if he didn’t know who he was in love with.

  “He is not hurt,” the Russian said sulkily.

  “Cut him loose then leave him in peace,” Diego ordered. “You cannot force a man who is in love to service your needs. It is good to see that you have moved on from Miranda’s death, Ryan. I wonder, will your new ladylove come to free you? If she is the same beautiful brunette that I saw leaving my compound with you, then I sincerely hope that she arrives soon. I would very much like to make Abigail’s acquaintance.”

  Ryan heard the laughter in Montoya’s tone and fresh rage rose. His need to kill his long hated enemy almost superseded his survival instincts. Only the thought of how Abby would feel if he threw his life away stopped him from lunging for the knife in his boot when Tatiana cut his right hand free.

  Sullenly gathering her clothes, she left the room. “You,” she said to one of the thugs. “Come with me.” She hadn’t managed to bed the man that she desired and would have to make do with whoever was closest instead.

  Closing his eyes, Ryan fought to contain his rage before reaching up to free his left hand. Untying his ankles, he left the dubious comfort of the cot and washed the Russian’s saliva from his dick. He felt sullied by her and was highly relieved that he hadn’t cheated on Abby.

  The hairs on the back of his neck rose when he realized that Montoya knew Abby’s name. That meant he had a mole within the SOB. It suddenly made sense why they’d failed to take Diego in two years ago. The whole operation had been a setup. While the team had been distracted, their families had been assassinated. The same betrayer had told Montoya about Abby, putting her in even more danger.

  Ryan hoped that he would be able to figure out who the mole was after he got himself out of this mess. One way or another, they would pay for their betrayal.

  ₪₪₪

  Chapter Eight

  At the end of the hour long time limit, Trevor had gathered a small team of fit and capable men. They filed into the waiting room and stood in a silent line as Abby inspected them. The three men wore casual clothes of jeans or cargo pants and T-shirts. Each carried a backpack full of equipment and a duffle bag full of clothes. Once again, she would be leading a team men and she was the only female. She met their eyes one by one and saw respect and willingness to follow her orders. Trevor had told them who and what she was. As the only surviving member of the Black Squad, she was to be feared.

  “They’ll do,” Abby said to Trevor. He held out another backpack and she took it with a hint of suspicion. “What’s this?”

  “It’s the usual gear that my men take on their missions,” he said with a small smile. “I wasn’t sure what equipment you have.”

  Taking a look inside, she was pleased to see most of the gear that she’d have assembled herself. Now she wouldn’t have to waste time heading to one of her storage units to stock up on supplies. “Thanks.” Her gratitude was genuine and earned her another strained smile from Watts.

  “A private jet is being prepped right now and it should be ready to take off in an hour. A driver is waiting to take you to the airport,” Trevor informed her.

  Nodding, she gestured to her temporary team. “Let’s go.”

  They filed after her and crowded into the elevator. One stepped forward to use his keycard and pushed the button for the parking lot. He stepped back, keeping a respectful distance from the woman that they’d been ordered to follow.

  It was a short ride and they stepped out of the elevator to find a large black van waiting. It was eerily similar to the vehicle that had stolen Ryan away from her. She knocked on the window and the driver lowered it so they could talk. “We need to make a quick stop,” she said and gave him some directions.

  Nodding his understanding, the agent raised the window again and she climbed into the back and took the first vacant row. It faced backwards and her team was spread out amongst the three rows facing her. All had buckled themselves in and were checking their weapons.

  Abby delved into the backpack and pulled out an assault rifle and a dozen magazines. She found night vision goggles that had infrared capabilities and a pistol with a silencer and plenty of ammo. There was also a tiny earpiece that would enable her to keep in contact with her team once they reached their destination and spread out to infiltrate the grounds.

  The driver took the short trip to where she’d left her jeep and waited for her to retrieve her gear. She shifted her weapons into the backpack and locked the objects that she wouldn’t be taking with her in the back. The agent lowered his window again when she approached. He took the keys she held out. “Have my jeep moved to your headquarters,” she instructed. He nodded and raised the window again. Abby didn’t know how long she’d be in Brazil and she didn’t want her vehicle to be impounded while she was gone.

  Taking her seat in the back again, she found all three agents staring at her expectantly. “How many of you know Agent Sheldon?” she asked.

  “We all do, ma’am,” one replied. He had black hair and eyes that were so dark a brown that they were almost black as well. All of the men were dark haired and dark eyed. Two wore contact lenses to turn their eyes brown. Trevor had picked them because they would be able to blend in more easily than fair-haired agents would have. At her guess, all were in their late twenties.

  “Are any of you holding a grudge against him for going rogue?” She watched their faces carefully and saw no signs of anger towards her boyfriend.

  “No, ma’am,” the same agent said. “Ryan just did what any of us would have. We’re just sorry he didn’t get to kill that son of a bitch, Montoya. Pardon my language, ma’am,” he said apologetically.

  A smile rose almost unwillingly. “What are your names?”

  “Dale Jackson,” the chatty agent replied. He had a handsome and almost boyish face, but his eyes spoke of his maturity. Around six feet tall, his build was lean yet strong.

  “I’m Matt Holt,” said the second. He was shorter than Jackson by a few inches. He also had black hair, but it was short and spiky. His expression was bordering on mischievous. She hoped he would be able to contain himself when the action began.

  “I’m Joshua Doran,” replied the third in a deep voice. He was over six feet tall and was almost too rugged to be classed as handsome. His shoulders were wide and he clearly put a lot of time in at the gym.

  “What are your specialties?” Knowing their strengths and weaknesses would be vital to succeeding in their mission.

  “I’m a sniper,” Jackson said. “I’m not as good as Ryan, but I’m a close second.”

  Holt was an expert at explosives, specifically trained to infiltrate heavily reinforced areas. He carried enough plastic explosives in his bag to wipe out Montoya’s entire mansion.

  Doran was far larger than the other two in sheer muscle mass. He was an expert in hand to hand combat with multiple black belts across several different disciplines.

  “What about you?” Jackson asked. “What are your specialties
?”

  “She was Black Squad,” Holt said. “They had to be masters of everything.”

  “Is that true?” Doran asked from his seat at the back of the van. “Do you think you could take all three of us?” He lifted an eyebrow almost lazily, eyeing her much smaller size. He knew she was deadly, but it was hard to believe that she had the capacity to take someone of his combat skills down.

  “It wouldn’t be the first time that I’ve killed several highly trained operatives,” she said without boasting and the men exchanged glances. They’d heard the rumors that the Black Squad had been eliminated and she’d all but told them that she was responsible for their deaths. They watched her with new respect and wariness after that revelation. If she could kill her own people then she wouldn’t have any compunction at ending their lives.

  Abby wasn’t happy that so many people knew that she’d once belonged to the Black Squad. It was only a matter of time before word got back to her old boss, Logan Matthews. Once Logan heard that she’d resurfaced, he’d do whatever it took to get his hands on her. If he did, she would be bound to suffer horribly before he allowed her the dubious peace of death.

  ₪₪₪

  Chapter Nine

  Ryan expected to be dragged before Montoya, but hours passed, dawn arrived and still he was left alone. The same two lackeys brought him breakfast of fruit and water. One left the tray on the floor just inside the door and the other kept his assault rifle trained on the prisoner.

  “You should have screwed Tatiana,” the man holding the gun said in Portuguese. “She was one hell of a ride.” He grinned and grabbed his crotch suggestively.

  “I’m sure she was,” Ryan replied. “I hope it was worth the gonorrhea that you no doubt now have.”

  The lackey’s grin disappeared and an ugly expression replaced it. He stepped forward to spit on Ryan’s breakfast then stumbled back with a shout of alarm when Ryan lunged towards him. The second man slammed the door shut before their captive could escape, not that he’d really been trying to.

  Picking up the tray, Ryan examined it for signs of saliva, poison or drugs that might incapacitate him. It appeared to be un-tampered with and he nibbled a small piece to be certain. He’d expected Montoya to cut him to pieces as soon as he’d arrived and he wasn’t sure why the drug lord was stalling. Ryan was both grateful and worried at the delay of his torture. He ate his breakfast and drank some of the bottled water, keeping the bulk of it to sip during the long day ahead. Just because he was being treated well now didn’t mean that it would continue.

  Ryan felt unseen eyes watching him periodically throughout the day through the hidden camera that he’d spotted high up in one corner of the room. It overlooked the bed, which wasn’t a coincidence. Montoya would have had a bird’s eye view of Tatiana going down on him and then trying to get him to use his mouth on her. It felt like a setup, but he wasn’t sure why he’d been forced to suffer through that drama.

  Restless, edgy and very nearly bored, he almost wished that Diego would make a move. The only visitors he had was two fresh guards that delivered his lunch. The afternoon dragged on and the sun finally began to wane before Tatiana came for him.

  Hearing multiple footsteps approaching, Ryan debated about reaching for his knife, but again opted not to. He was glad he hadn’t revealed his one and only weapon when the door opened and he saw how many people had been sent to retrieve him. He was skilled at hand to hand combat, but he wasn’t confident that he could take down four men and one psychotic woman. Not when all five of them had their guns pointed at him.

  “Will you walk, or do I have to shoot you in the leg and get my men to drag you?” the Russian asked. She was still humiliated about his rejection and was looking for an excuse to cause him pain.

  “I’ll walk.” It went without saying that he’d end up wounded by either a gun or one of her knives eventually, but he wanted to postpone that for as long as possible. Once the blood began to flow, his strength and his ability to focus would start to weaken. He needed to be able to think clearly to have a chance of making it through the coming ordeal.

  He was marched down a long brick hallway to another metal door. This one led to the grounds. Squinting against the bright flare of the slowly dying sun, he had the distinct feeling that Abby was watching him. He peered at the spacious grounds and noted the fifteen foot high brick walls with razor wire on the tops. The property was ringed by dense jungle that was doing its best to encroach on the grounds.

  They traversed down a brick path across the yard towards a sprawling, three-story mansion. Painted stark white, it didn’t look like the dwelling of a mass murderer. It was deceivingly tranquil on the outside. That would no doubt change once he stepped through the open doors.

  ₪₪₪

  Chapter Ten

  Travelling the rest of the way to the airport in silence, Abby spent most of that time staring out through the tinted windows. They didn’t take the main entrance to the airport, but instead headed down a private road. The driver paused at a gate to show his credentials before driving to the area where their jet waited. It was ready to go and she and her team boarded without having to give up their weapons or to show their passports. Their mission had been sanctioned by Trevor and no one was going to stop them from retrieving Ryan.

  Abby chose a window seat and buckled herself in while the men chose seats where they could sprawl out and try to catch some sleep. The idea of Ryan having a chip in his neck was horrible, but it was ultimately going to save his life, or so she hoped. They would be landing in a little used airfield a four hour drive away from Montoya’s secret hideaway. Trevor had called in a favor to ensure they’d have a ride once they landed.

  It was a long flight to Rio and Abby hadn’t expected to make it again so soon. It had only been a little over three months since she’d been kidnapped by Ryan on her ill-timed holiday. It was ironic that she’d flown to Brazil to escape from stress for a short while only to land in the middle of a fellow agent’s mission for revenge.

  A small part of her still felt guilty for coming between Ryan and his goal. If not for her, he’d have erased Montoya as he’d planned. But even Ryan had admitted that he’d probably have died if he’d stuck to his original plan. Thanks to Aaron Swift’s jealousy, her man was now in the hands of a mass murderer that had a grudge against him.

  She forced her worry aside and eventually slept. She woke hours later when the pilot asked them to fasten their seatbelts. They landed on an airstrip that was used predominately by drug smugglers. It hadn’t been used in some time and they bumped over several obstacles when they touched down and coasted to a stop.

  An old yet sturdy jeep waited for them. Abby claimed the front passenger seat while Jackson took the wheel. Holt and Doran stashed their gear in the back before climbing inside.

  As Dale drove off, Abby fired up Swift’s laptop. It had access to the internet no matter which country it was in, and she called up a map of the area. There were few roads in the jungles near Rio and she guided Jackson along little used back roads whenever possible. They bypassed Rio completely. Montoya had eyes everywhere and they didn’t want to tip him off that they were coming for him. They circled around Montoya’s estate, staying several miles away to avoid being spotted by his guards.

  Following Abby’s directions, Jackson nudged the jeep off the rutted dirt road and parked the jeep in a dense thicket.

  “We’ll go the rest of the way on foot,” Abby said. It was dark enough that they could barely see each other, but their current clothing was far too conspicuous. They needed to change into clothes that would blend into the jungle. “Gear up. We leave in ten minutes.”

  The men efficiently changed into camouflage uniforms that lacked any type of identification to peg them as being Americans. Abby changed as well, stepping behind a tree to do so. When she emerged, she was wearing a similar outfit to the men. All four now wore Special Forces boots that were designed to allow the pants to be tucked into the tops to stop anyt
hing from crawling inside. They were necessary when trekking through dense trees and underbrush that contained all manner of creepy crawlies.

  Their night vision goggles hung around their necks, ready to be donned quickly if necessary. They slipped their backpacks on and shouldered their assault rifles, stashing their other weapons in holsters, sheaths and in the pockets of their cargo pants.

  Checking the laptop for a final time, Abby estimated that it would take three hours or so to walk to the mansion. Dawn would arrive well before they reached Montoya’s residence, but that couldn’t be helped. Ryan had already been in Diego’s custody for far too long, but rushing in without seeing what they were up against would be suicide. The red dot on the laptop hadn’t moved and Ryan was still somewhere in the complex, but it didn’t tell her what his health was like. For all she knew, they might already be too late and they might only be rescuing his corpse.

  Signaling for the men to fall in behind her, Abby led the way into the jungle. They moved through the trees and shrubbery almost without notice. Nocturnal birds and animals fell silent when the humans came close enough to be detected, but they quickly returned to their business when they moved on.

  Abby had forced herself to sleep during the ten hour flight, knowing that she’d need to be alert and well rested when they landed. Her dreams had been full of death and darkness, which was nothing new for her. Her subconscious had dredged up the worst memories that it could conjure. None could even compare to the devastation that she’d feel if Ryan were to die.

  She moved at a pace that was fast, yet didn’t tire her out. Her team members were fit enough to keep up with her and none were panting for air when she finally came to a stop. They’d only had to use their night vision goggles a few times a few times when the jungle had become so dense that the moon had been unable to reach the ground.

 

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