The Russian (Federal Hellions Book 2)

by Gray Gardner

  “Yes sir,” they both replied, in disappointed tones.

  “However, since you two seem to be the only ones who truly care about Private Burton here, I will tell you what I can tell you, and that is all,” he nodded, folding his hands behind his back. “Sometimes government bureaucracies visit bases around the country and pull out some of the top soldiers. Private Burton here has been chosen by one of these bureaucracies and has been…contracted out.”

  “Contracted out?” O’Malley asked, frowning. “By what kind of bureaucracy?”

  “I can’t tell you,” Connor replied, shaking his head.

  “It’s not that simple,” Burton sighed, shaking her head.

  “All right,” a doctor loudly said as he entered the room, breaking the tension. “Visiting hours are over, so everybody needs to leave and let me check on Private Burton, here.”

  “This isn’t over,” O’Malley said, as she led Jennings out of the room.

  “Please don’t do anything imprudent!” Burton called, as Connor shut the door and sat on the arm of a vinyl covered chair.

  “So does she have to spend the night, Doc?” he asked, crossing his arms over his chest.

  “I’d say thirty more minutes on the IV and several glasses of water tonight, and she can go. As long as you keep an eye on her.”

  “What is it with people telling him to keep an eye on me?” she asked, as the doctor walked out into the hallway, leaving the door open. She called after him, “I’m twenty-six-years-old!”

  “You got the couch,” he grinned, sitting next to her and taking her small hand into both of his.

  “We’ll use the pillow wall,” she replied, taking her hand back and sitting up on her elbow as she stared at him. “Please tell me you didn’t get yourself kicked out.”

  “No, I actually did get myself contracted out,” he smirked, leaning over and resting his elbows on his knees. “To go with you into the CIA.”

  She shook her head and fell back onto her pillow, looking at the ceiling. “I’m not going to work for them.”

  Connor rubbed his whiskers as he looked at her. She looked like she was about to completely give up on everything.

  “I don’t think you have much of a choice.”

  She exhaled loudly.

  “Taylor has to discharge you.”

  “I figured.”

  “So, why did you join the service?”

  Burton turned her head and stared at him. “I’m supposed to say that I joined to help people, and then you’re going to remind me that immersing myself into this op with the CIA is going to be the only true way that I can help people now. And then I’m going to tell you to mind your own damn business,” she replied, turning her head and facing the other wall.

  Connor looked down at the white tiled floor. She actually had it about right.

  “Burton,” he hesitantly began. “Baylor, they’re coming back to get you in two weeks, whether you want to go or not.”

  “They can’t make me do anything,” she muttered angrily, still facing away from him.

  “They made it abundantly clear to me that they can and they will.”

  She sat up quickly and ripped the IV out of her arm, ignoring the sharp pain. Throwing her legs off of the bed she brushed past Connor and grabbed her tennis shoes.

  “Burton.”

  “Do you mind?” she asked, trying to walk past him as he stood in her way.

  “Baylor, they are coming for you!”

  “And all they’ll find is an empty bunk!” she replied, throwing her arms out, then grabbing the wall for support. She was a little woozy. He tried to help her, but she slapped his arms away, making him crack a small smile. Another thing he didn’t realized he liked: moxy.

  “Where are you going to go?” he asked, trying not to smile at her flustering.

  “Like I’m going to tell anyone!” she sarcastically said, hands on her hips as her balance returned.

  “They’ll find you,” he said, holding her shoulders and leaning over so that he could look her in the eye. They were the CIA after all.

  “I can make myself disappear.”

  “And then what? Start all over with no friends and no purpose? God, Burton, you can actually do something good for kids who are in serious need!”

  “I was a kid in serious need!” she shouted, not able to stop herself from crying. Connor stared at her as she picked up her own pieces and stopped herself from falling apart. She could hardly control her resentment, though. “And look where it got me! How can I possibly help other kids when I’m such a damn mess!”

  “One of the best and most revered intelligence agencies in the world believes that you can do it. Now why can’t you?” he asked, still holding her shoulders.

  “Let go of me,” she said, jerking herself away from him and wiping her face.

  “I believe you can do it.”

  She looked at the floor as she put her hands on her hips.

  “Connor, you’re a really great guy. Don’t back a loser,” she coldly said, walking around him towards the open door. “It really was an honor to work with you.”

  “I can’t let you leave,” he said, reaching down and grabbing her wrist. Her cold glare back at him hurt.

  “Let me go.”

  “You have to give this a chance.”

  “I don’t have to do anything. Now let me go!” she ordered, trying to pull her arm away. She’d already planned in her head that she would go home and gather up necessities, then leave the country.

  “Don’t make me do this,” he sighed, still holding her. He winced as he knew she wouldn’t comply.

  “Do what?” she growled, leaning back and pulling away as hard as she could.

  “Please?”

  “Let go!” she ordered through her teeth, yanking her arm back towards her.

  He exhaled and easily flipped her around and pushed her against the wall in one swoop, and while holding her wrists in one big hand, he reached around and unbuckled her belt with the other.

  “What the hell are you doing?” she asked, face smashed against the wall.

  She couldn’t deny this had been a fantasy of hers, but she imagined it in a more intimate setting, not a stark hospital room.

  He ripped off her belt and used it to tie her hands behind her back.

  “I’m locking you up in the brig tonight,” he said, in a matter-of-fact tone. A smack resounded in the small room followed by a sharp pain on her backside. “More of that to come if you keep fighting me and threatening to take off.” He took her upper arm and pulled her down the hallway.

  This was not part of her fantasy.

  “Oh, you are going to pay for this,” she muttered, glaring up at him through her messy dark red hair as she jerked her shoulders around. “Putting me in jail? Do you think that’ll change my mind?”

  “No, but it’ll keep you from running away,” he replied, opening the glass doors and pulling her out into the cold night air.

  “This is so ridiculous!” she exclaimed, scurrying awkwardly alongside of his long strides. “I’m never going to change my mind! This is just injudicious on your part because whenever I get out of these restraints I’m going to totally kick your ass!”

  “And I’ll totally spank your ass so that’ll be fun,” he grinned, opening the doors to the small iron cells and pushing her inside. He unlocked a cell containing nothing but a cot and led her inside, turning her around and squeezing her neck as he untied her belt.

  As soon as her hands were free she turned and tried any and all moves she had to get him on the floor and herself out the door, but he was ready for her. In about two seconds she was face down on the cold concrete and he had one hand pinning her back down and another smacking down on the back of her fatigues.

  “I’m staying in the office down the hall all night, so if you need anything just shout,” he said between the slapping sounds.

  The rest of the cells were empty, thank God, and she fought back with everything she had.
>
  “You can’t make me do this!” she squealed, reaching out and trying to grab for anything as she kicked her legs.

  “Yes, but I can make your little butt bright red,” he laughed, watching her ears turn pink. “And I can make you one sorry little girl. But that’s not what I really want to do.”

  He paused in the middle of spanking her and began to rub very tenderly over her backside. She stilled for a second, then threw an elbow back. He laughed again as he caught it and leaned over, pinning it above her head. He whispered into her ear.

  “We can talk about this. Talk about our options. But until I know you aren’t going to run away and get yourself into even more trouble you’ll be staying right here with the cell door locked and a spanked ass.”

  She ran up and grabbed the bars as he quickly exited and locked her in, confused and angry. Why was he doing this to her? Didn’t he understand her at all?

  “Just let me go!” she cried, trying to squeeze her head through and see if he would turn around. She heard a door slam and let her head fall back, cursing at the ceiling as she wondered what in the hell she could do to rectify the situation.

  Nothing immediately came to mind as she carefully sat back on the cot, and before she knew it, the sun was shining in on her face and she was snuggled up in a nice fleece blanket. He must have covered her up in the middle of the night. Connor was so confusing to her. He acted like some big tough guy devoted to his duties, but he also acted like he really cared about her. And he spanked her, which was the most confusing thing of all because she wasn’t entirely certain he did it out of malice. It seemed more likely he did it out of caring but she couldn’t quite wrap her head around that.

  She sat up and leaned over on her knees, resting her head in her hands.

  A door clanked and footsteps approached. If Connor thought she was going to accept any sort of apology he was sorely mistaken. She was primed and ready for a fight.

  “Good morning, Baylor.”

  She opened her eyes and stared at the gray floor. That wasn’t Connor.

  She knew that voice, though. She knew that accent, the way he made “Baylor” sound like “Bayluh.” But what was he doing there?

  “Captain Connor called me in to give you a good talking to, young lady. Flew all the way in from New York just to see you, Darling. Aren’t you going to even look at me?”

  She took a couple of deep breaths as she clenched her fists and tried to remain calm. Seriously? Was this supposed to be some kind of nightmare? Was she being punished for something? This was the only possible way her current situation could have gotten any worse.

  “Burton, Agent Ferguson has come here to talk to you about the importance of this operation and the key role you’ll be playing,” Connor said, standing aside but still eyeing the agent fiercely.

  She cleared her throat as she stood. Then she looked up. There he was, handsome as ever, with his James Bond appeal. That stupid James Bond appeal that would make any American girl, including her, fall for him instantly.

  “Baylor,” he said, nodding at her in his pressed black suit and perfectly combed black hair.

  She gave a sardonic curtsey and walked up to the bars, gripping them and leaning forward. Her lips were pressed so tightly together that she could barely get them open for her greeting.

  “John,” she said through her teeth, in a very convincing English accent. “I see you still fancy yourself double oh seven.”

  “Charming,” he grinned, raising his brow at the Captain. She still hated him. He didn’t want to be there anymore than she wanted him there. He had to try and act professionally, though. His senior agents had sounded very serious when they explained the situation and how important her role would be. “Shall we begin?”

  Connor was staring at him as he worked everything out in his head. The agent assigned to help Burton through whatever she had gone through when she was a teenager was John? Her fiancé who had cheated on her? There had to be some kind of mix up.

  “I’m sorry,” Connor said, holding up his hands. “You’re Agent Ferguson. But you’re also John?”

  “Quite right,” he replied, loosening his neck tie. “Special Agent John Ferguson.”

  Connor looked down at Burton and asked, “How many Johns do you know?”

  She continued glaring at her ex.

  “Just one,” she muttered.

  “Come now, Baylor. It’s all water under the bridge, right?” he asked, striking a dashing pose as he waited for an answer.

  Before she could answer, though, Connor stepped in.

  “Agent Ferguson, I apologize. This is my fault. I got Eubanks to call you in because I thought you could help. You’ve helped her before. But I didn’t realize that you were the fucking dickhole who promised marriage and then screwed her by screwing her roommate.”

  Burton nearly broke a grin as she watched Connor tear her arrogant ex-boyfriend down. She couldn’t help it. All of those horrible emotions had flooded back in and she felt like she would never be happy again, but Connor changed that. He stood up for her.

  “Like I said,” Ferguson replied, clearing his throat. “Water under the bridge. We have pressing matters at hand. I understand this operation involves human trafficking? Dealt with that myself, though I don’t think that’s why you called me in.”

  “I was supposed to get my life back,” Burton finally said. “Even after you left I was supposed to have my life! How did your buddies get all of my information? I mean, Jesus, John! They had pictures taken from inside my house! Surveillance while I was still sleeping in a crib, for fuck’s sake! Did you just hand them everything?”

  John loosened his tie a little more and unbuttoned his top button on his shirt.

  “You know I’m only thirty-five, Baylor. They have over fifteen years of seniority on me. I can’t just say no when they ask for something, you know? They called two nights ago and I was forced to give them all my files, all right?” he snapped, turning and pacing the small hall between the cells. “Do you think I liked giving all of that information up? All of my research, all of my findings, hundreds of hours of legwork…”

  “And my life!” Baylor cried, pushing off of the bars and stepping back. “They’re using it against me, John! Everything I told you because you promised me that I was safe. Everything you discovered that you told me assuring full confidentiality. Full protection! I’ve been discharged from the US armed forces because now they know all about my past!”

  “Well use what you know for once, damn it!” John yelled, stepping up to the bars and leaning in. “You always denied having any interest in your utterly fascinating past and yet for some reason you deny that it keeps coming back to bite you in the ass! So embrace it, for once. You are one in two dozen American born girls who can fluently speak Russian, who still looks young and beautiful, and who has the training and sheer will to face the criminals who are exploiting children who cannot help themselves. You want to get angry and upset? Then use it! Use it to bring down one of the largest underground slavery rings in the history of the world.”

  Burton had backed up against the wall now, pushing back and trying to go further. She knew she couldn’t go backwards, and she couldn’t stay where she was. But what could she do? She had to move forward. She had to be brave. Damn it, she hated that he was right.

  Swallowing hard and walking forward, she asked, “Will you be there with me?”

  “If you wish,” John nodded, as Connor reached through the bars and took her hand. He’d known she meant him.

  “I already have permission to be there every step of the way,” Connor said. “And trust me, I would never let anything bad happen to you. You can trust me.”

  Nodding, she reminded herself to breathe again and looked over at John, who seemed surprised that she wasn’t talking about him.

  “Go fuck yourself, Ferguson.”

  He frowned and was speechless for a moment before he replied, “Typical crass American girl with no filter between her brain an
d her mouth.”

  John huffed and glared at the pair, then turned and briskly left the jail cells. He was muttering something about expense reports and going home to London.

  “She’s back,” Connor grinned, unlocking the cell as Burton ran out and called after John.

  “Go back to her, you whore! She’s a slut just like you!”

  “Okay, okay,” Connor said, holding her back. He was glad that she was back to her old self, but now was not the time to get revenge on old flames.

  She turned and looked back up at him, trying to find the right words. It wasn’t easy. “Uh, look…”

  “Burton…”

  “Just, wait,” she said, holding up her hand. “I’m tired and I smell like feet. I want to say this, though. I’ve never given you any reason to trust me. Obviously, Agent Ferguson was my fiancé who cheated on me with my roommate. And obviously, when I was eighteen, he was an agent who helped me with my familial problems and I fell for him hard when I went to Oxford. Boy was I wrong.”

  “Burton.”

  “Anyway, I just want to tell you that I’ve heard you tell me over and over again that I can trust you. Well, you don’t have to say it anymore. I trust you. You’re not John, you’re not them. You’re Connor, and I trust you.”

  He grinned and held her arms, about to say something when she quickly added something else.

  “Wait, I don’t know your first name! How do I not know your first name?”

  “I’m your captain, Baylor,” he nodded. “We don’t use first names.”

  “But you’ve seen my underwear and we made out. I think I need a first name,” she said, looking up at him with wide green eyes.

  He quickly grabbed her shoulders and lifted her up, kissing her before she could object. She didn’t at all, though. When he finally pulled away he replied, “Pete.”

  “Pete Connor,” she repeated, nodding her head, still very close to him. “So, should I call you Pete now?”

  “Do you want me to call you Baylor?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “Okay,” he sighed, rubbing her arms. “Now that we have that settled, we need to talk about this op.”