by Honey Jans
He smiled and handed her the still warm hairbrush. “Wear the red bikini today, love,” he said, turning to go.
She frowned at his commanding tone as he walked out the door. He couldn't tease her to boneless distraction and then expect her to obey. But he did, and she would. She padded over to the bed and slipped on the red bikini, her body still simmering with arousal, her mind worried for him. Just a few hours more and this would be over.
A look at the clock told her she was wasting time, risking Lola's wrath. She couldn't afford to do that. With a sigh, she stepped out of the bungalow, ready to be a good submissive and lull Lola and her staff into a false sense of security. She'd be the decoy, following the schedule Lola had printed out for her to the letter. Despite what she'd told Condor, she had no intention of cutting and running. Too much was riding on this mission, like his life.
* * * *
She rushed down the path to the spa, tardy for her stupid yoga class. Heading past Bungalow Twelve, she was startled when a whirl of motion caught the edge of her peripheral vision, and she was grabbed. Before she could react, she was drawn hard into a large body, a big hand clamped over her mouth to prevent any screams. She drew in a shaky breath, instantly recoiling when she recognized James’ aftershave.
Deliberately forcing herself to stand down, she let her body relax and go fluid against his, not fighting him. It was the only thing that kept her from attacking, thus giving herself away as a field agent. He thought she was an innocent dupe and she'd have to play it to the hilt. The man was obviously too cowardly to confront Condor, so he was trying for what he presumed to be the weakest link. His hold gentled as she stopped struggling. He set her down in the middle of the bedroom, and slowly let go. She tried not to recoil when he ran his hand over the small of her back. Careful not to move too fast, she slowly turned to face him while at the same time scanning the bungalow for others.
The place looked lived in, and it smelled like James’ cologne. It must be his temporary digs. She noticed the men's shaving kit on the counter, and the mussed bed, before coming face to face with James. He was standing there, watching her with what appeared to be eager anticipation. His blue eyes carried a determined, calculating look she'd never seen before. Obviously, he was still trying to get the goods on Condor.
"If you'd wanted to see me, you could have knocked on my door,” she said softly. Instead of saying anything, James walked over to the door and closed it, locking it, the snick of the lock sounding loud in the room. He was trying to unnerve her, she realized.
"This is more private,” he said, turning and eyeing her closely. “And we need privacy, don't we, babe?"
"If you say so,” she said, refusing to rise to the bait and show fear. He was toying with her trying to feel her out, and he was damned clumsy at it.
"Oh I do.” He grinned, visibly relaxing now that he held her trapped.
Sauntering toward her, he flashed her a confident smile as he closed the gap between them. The man was egotistically sure of himself. It pained her that she'd never picked up on that all those years ago. She could have saved herself so much pain. She let out a practiced sigh of disappointment. “I think this is against the rules."
"Don't you know by now that I make my own rules?"
"Don't I know it, stud,” she said, eyeing him boldly and seeing him preen at the casual compliment. The dope was stuck on himself. “My owner doesn't share and Lola wouldn't like it."
"Condor's not around, so what he doesn't know won't hurt him,” he said with a grin.
"Who?” she asked, playing dumb as he stalked up to her. He invaded her personal space, his cold hand running up her arm, and then stopping to cup her breast in her bikini top. She stood still as he kissed her, her nipple budding automatically for him. She forced her body to relax, respond.
He leaned back to look at her, and nodded, satisfied. “The magic's still there, babe."
"I guess I can't deny it,” she said with a smile. This was going well.
"Or is it an act?” he asked, tilting his head.
The question made her gut twist. Apparently, he wasn't the complete fool she'd thought him to be. James wouldn't be so easily led around by his cock; she'd have to find another way around him. Condor's orders to run if trouble started replayed in her mind. But she sensed that it was too late. “You tell me,” she said, arching against him, as her hand slipped down to cup the erection in his pants. His fingers stroked her semi-hard nipples and she faked it by letting out a needy gasp. His sudden cocky smile gave her renewed confidence. He thought he was God's gift to women.
Lola walked out of the connecting room. “Don't let me interrupt."
Bridget let out a little gasp, and focused a deer in the headlights gaze at her. Things had just gotten more complex. Why wasn't she out meeting Condor?
Lola smiled, seemingly pleased by her shocked reaction.
"What is she doing here?” Bridget asked, easing closer to James, not likening Lola's brittle smile one bit. The woman was on edge for some reason.
"Don't worry, Bridge,” James said smoothly. “Mistress Lola's a special friend of mine."
"How special?” she asked, letting her voice deepen to show jealousy she didn't feel, as she narrowed her eyes on the other woman.
James chuckled, and sank down onto the bed, tugging Bridget onto his lap. “Don't worry, honey, there's plenty of me to go around."
"That's good to know,” she said, forcing herself to relax and smile as his arm looped around her waist, holding her trapped.
Lola's gaze watched her. “Aren't you supposed to be out sailing?” she asked Lola, watching the other woman's dour expression.
Lola flashed a brittle cat that ate a canary smile and pulled up a chair. “There's plenty of time for that. And don't worry about your man, I'll take extra good care of your Dom,” Lola said, with a sultry purr.
"I don't doubt it,” Bridget muttered, instantly jealous. The damned woman would be all over him like poison ivy.
"Tell her about Delta Star,” James coaxed, his arm around her waist tightening a little to hold her trapped.
Bridget didn't bother to move, it was no good letting these idiots know that she had self-defense skills—yet. “Why?” Bridget asked, stalling.
Lola walked over to the wet bar and poured two shots of rum. “Friends don't keep secrets,” she said, carrying the shot glasses over to them.
"Since when are we friends?” Bridget asked, instantly wary as Lola held out one of the shots.
"Since I poured you a drink and decided to let bygones be bygones,” she said, waiting for Bridget to take the shot.
With a sigh, Bridget reached for the glass, saying, “Thanks.” She hated rum, but if it would mollify the woman, and buy Condor some time, she'd drink the foul stuff. Maybe if she kept the bitch occupied she'd never make it to the boat. She tossed back the drink wrinkling her nose, and gasped as it burned all the way down.
"I don't work there anymore; I resigned."
Lola shook her head. “No! You were quietly fired, because your father's the old director."
Bridget slanted a frown up at James. He'd been a fount of information. “I see he's been blabbing."
Lola nodded with a smirk. “The boy does like to talk."
"Boy!” James grumbled. “I'm a man."
"Easy, stud,” Lola said, shutting him up.
"So what's it to you?” Bridget asked, yawning. The room suddenly began to spin a little as she went woozy. The shot glass fell from her suddenly lifeless fingers and rolled across the floor to Lola. What the hell Lola give me?
"Oops,” Lola said, bending to pick it up. “You wouldn't want daddy to find out about your kinky sexual proclivities."
"You'd better not tell him,” Bridget said carefully, so as not to slur her words. “What the hell did you give me?” she said, trying to break from James's hold.
"Oh, a little something to keep you calm."
"I am calm,” Bridget hissed back at her.
"You won't be when you find out about Condor."
Bridget scowled, as the name echoed in her head. “Who?"
"Told ya she didn't know. The girl's a moron."
"Hey,” Bridget protested, as she felt herself drifting away. Her last thought was of warning Condor.
Chapter 13
Condor walked the perimeter of the marina one last time looking for a setup before going out onto the pier. The fishing charter was tied up and purring. He heard the click of high heels and turned to see Lola rushing his way. There was an excited look in her ice blue eyes.
"Sorry I'm late,” she said, stepping up to him.
Condor smiled down at her, relaxing, gazing at her floral sundress and the flushed look on her face. “No problem, it was worth the wait."
She went on her tiptoes to kiss him and he drew her into his arms, surprised. He kissed her back trying for a response she'd buy. When she broke the kiss, his looked down into her troubled eyes. There was remoteness there now. He suddenly got a very bad feeling. “What's wrong?"
"I've got to work, I can't go with you."
He let out a relieved breath. So that's what was bothering her. “Well in that case, it can wait..."
"No,” she protested clutching his arm. “I want you to go and enjoy it. A special treat from me."
He nodded, agreeing, partially because it seemed to set her at ease and also because it would give him a good chance to check the other island. “Okay."
She smiled. “Good. That's another fantasy fulfilled."
"You ready to go?” a strange man said from the keel.
"Where's the skipper?” Condor asked, seeing the new pilot.
"Unfortunately I had to fire the other one because of your earlier stunt."
Condor gave her a regretful frown, sorry he'd gotten the other man fired. “You had to?"
She tilted her head to give him a direct look. “I need to be surrounded by men I can trust. Otherwise, they have to go."
He nodded, hoping to show her he was on the same page. She smiled and turned to go.
Enjoy it,” she said over her shoulder.
He watched her rush away, wondering at her hurry, and then climbed onboard. He just had to play this out until midnight. A glance at his diver's watch showed him Bridget still safely in the compound, making him relax. Lola's sudden change of attitude was bothersome. Was she starting to believe James’ assertion that he was Delta Star? It explained her wary, almost regretful tone. The captain cast off, and then immediately went into the cabin to head out. Unfriendly sort, but it helped not to have to make casual conversation. Condor prowled the stern as they moved out into the channel, and looked back toward the island. To his surprise, Lola was standing there watching him leave. He waved to her, wondering why she was lingering if she was in such a hurry, and she waved back.
* * * *
Condor stood at the front of the boat, enjoying the shimmer of the water as the setting sun painted it with colors. At eight, Perez would come ashore and by midnight, they would have him and the rest of the gang in custody. James would never have time to get the proof he was seeking. Another Delta Star team would converge on Lace Island and sweep it for Perez's associates. However messy things came out, this would end tonight, and he and Bridget would go back to the real world.
He stared into the distance, and raised his binoculars, making out some activity on the island. He was too far away to see exactly what, but it helped reassure him that Perez was still there. Lowering the glasses, he looked out at the glistening water searching for the serenity it always bought, but couldn't find it. Something was wrong with Bridget; he could almost sense it. How was she faring in the treacherous waters of The Retreat? Lola would be none too easy on her.
The sea was a little choppy with whitecaps making the boat rock, as he stood braced on the point. He didn't mind. Suddenly the feeling of being a target made the fine hairs stir on the back of his neck. He was in someone's hair triggers. A thump and a muffled, “Oof” from behind him, made him turn slightly to the right.
James rocked against the side of the stairs as he climbed out of the cabin, gun drawn, his narrowed eyes trained resolutely on Condor. Condor went loose, knowing his opponent might be a fool, but he wasn't harmless. A rock of the boat made him clutch the rail to keep from toppling. Condor gathered himself for action. He'd never reach his gun in time, James already had a round in the chamber of his silver-plated revolver. A sissy pistol, figures! The only option was diversion and defense. “I wondered if this was a trap,” he said, turning slowly so as not to startle the idiot. James grinned back at him, jubilant.
"So you finally grew a brain, Condor,” he said, finally succeeding in coming topside. “Don't know how you thought you could get away with it. Conning Bridget into believing you were Welch and talking her into coming here."
"Is that what she said?” Condor asked, terrified for her at James’ words. It meant he'd held her, interrogated her, and maybe worse. The urge to kill the bastard was strong, but he knew he had to draw the man out get him to talk. “Maybe she's the one conning me."
James smirked. “Don't make me laugh. She doesn't have the brainpower."
Condor scowled, his body tensing, at the dig to Bridget's intelligence, and he noticed James’ grin as he picked up on it.
"Ah hah, so you're hung up on her, too,” he said. “Nice. She does have a nice rack, but she's cold in bed."
"Not with a man who knows what he's doing,” Condor said, jabbing at the other man's greatest weakness—his inflated ego.
James’ hand tightened on the trigger, his body going rigid at the insult. “A lot you know."
"So did she tell you..."
"She didn't have to. I remembered you from Delta. Recon 101. You know what they say, those who can't do, teach. You've really fucked this up, Condor."
"I'm getting old,” Condor agreed, placating the guy. He watched the other man ease up on the trigger, relaxing a little at the admission. “Is Bridget okay?"
"Sleeping like a baby. I'm keeping her on ice, for now."
"Damn it, if you touch her, I'll..."
"Yeah, yeah,” James said, in a bored tone. “Save the empty threats. Lola's no guns rule means you're unarmed.” He waved the gun toward the stern. “Get going, you're wasting my time."
So the guy didn't know he was packing. Condor walked to the back of the boat, easily navigating the tossing deck. James followed him at a distance, a little wobbly. There wouldn't be time to draw accurately, he'd have to time things right. He came to a halt by the side, rolling with a wave. James, not being a total fool, stood just out of reach, with his gun trained on him. The urge to pull his knife and end James was strong but he needed to play dead. It might be the only way to save Bridget.
"Say bye-bye,” James said, squeezing the trigger.
Condor feinted to the right, just as the gunshot roared, and dove deep into the water. He kicked, diving deeper, bullets zinging by him underwater. Lungs straining, he knew he couldn't stay down forever, and silently came to surface on the opposite side of the hull. James was running around on deck still firing. Condor's jaw tightened as he heard James barking orders, calling for a spotlight. He took a deep breath and dove low again, swimming underwater toward the beach. He broke surface twenty yards away, but didn't look back. He couldn't risk turning his white face toward the boat. It'd make him too easy to spot. Instead, he swam toward the uninhabited side of the island.
Lungs heaving, he hauled himself on shore but couldn't stop to rest. He had to save Bridget. He hurried off the beach and into the cover of the jungle growth. Only then did he stop to turn and watch from the shadows. James was still anchored out there, panning a spotlight over the shimmering surface, while the captain stood nearby with a rifle. The jerk wanted to bring back a corpse to prove his worth to Lola. A glance at his diver's watch told him it was near midnight and the blip told him Bridget was still in the compound, hopefully alive. She had to be; he wouldn't let himself think diffe
rent. The urge to tear back there and blow the place apart to get her ran strong in his heart, but he knew it could get her killed.
Instead, he made for the cave, and recon with the extraction team. The charges would go off, giving them the element of surprise. It would give them the diversion needed to extricate their target.
He pulled out his PDA, typing in the predestined numbers for the extraction team, letting them know he was in place. Half of them would set charges large enough to send Lola's whole goon squad in the wrong direction, and blow a hole through the stone walls surrounding the compound. The other half would converge here. The takedown was already set for midnight.
Then he made a personal call to Frost. He pulled out the encrypted cell phone from his pack—seeing the bubble bath made his heart tighten and his gut twist. She had to make it; she was too good an agent not to. He punched in Bran Frost's personal number on speed dial.
Frost picked up on the third ring. “What's going on, Condor? How's it going out there in babe city?"
Condor gritted his teeth, deciding to ignore his superior's amused tone. He felt far from smiling. “Things are shitty. I've been made and Bridget's been captured. Other than that, things are proceeding as to schedule, with one exception. When the extraction team gets here, I'm going after her. After this case, I quit,” he said.
"Don't say anything you'll regret. Get on with the job, Condor. Your woman will be okay."
"I didn't say she was my woman,” Condor said, with a frown.
"Hell, pal, you didn't have to. Don't worry, she has a lethal left jab and she can outshoot most of the guys. Then there's her command of martial arts. Well, enough said."
"Just be there."
"What about Perez?"
At this point, he didn't care about anything but getting Bridget back. “Let the team take him. I'm going after her. I've got to move out.” Condor severed the connection before Frost could respond. Pocketing his cell phone, he strode back toward the exit of the cave. The extraction team should be here. Hearing footsteps coming his way, he went still, slipping into the darkness. As a ghost, he'd had plenty of experience blending into the shadows. Dark shadows separated themselves from the jungle at his approach.