Hostile Ground

by Cara Carnes

  “She’s the safest in. Too much is at stake.”

  “Promise me you’ll come to us if it’s too much. Don’t keep shit bottled up inside.” Beast halted his progression and grasped her arm. “We hate that you’re in that bastard’s world. Alone.”

  “I’m never alone.” She tapped the com. “I’ve got the best team ever at my back and the best organization in existence at the ready. We’ve got this.”

  3

  Present Day

  Moscow

  “Addy. Lavrov’s outside.”

  Zoey’s voice filled Addison Rugers’ ear as she bolted up from the rickety cot and cursed as pain swept up her side and along her back. The com she’d worn nonstop for the past two weeks remained silent while she focused on her surroundings.

  Early morning offered rare quiet within the apartment building. Even though the location provided unrestricted surveillance of Yesim’s crew, it also came with paper-thin walls, shoddy plumbing, and mouse-sized rooms that made the “apartment” more of a cell.

  The apartment offered a perfect view into the only known location for Yesim’s operation. Until The Arsenal secured the biochemical weapons the bastards had smuggled out of Cuba, this shitty apartment with surround-sound fucking and fighting was her team’s home away from home.

  Fun times.

  How long had she slept? Minutes? She glanced at her watch. Three hours. “I’m awake. Do you know what he wants?”

  “No. His car parked at the drone’s perimeter and he got out,” Zoey replied on the com. “Want me to dart him?”

  More than anything. Addy stood and dragged on the short black skirt she’d taken off a few hours ago. She bypassed the deep blue corset and retrieved her gun from the bedside table. Combat boots didn’t exactly go with Iriana Duprinsky’s look, but the mercenary persona wasn’t exactly known for giving a damn what people thought.

  Light poured in from the hallway when the door opened. Beast loomed in the doorway. He cracked his knuckles as she squeezed by him and tromped down the narrow corridor leading to the living room where Shep and Johnny both watched from the sofa. Cracker and Thunder were asleep in the second bedroom. Sleeping in shifts kept their team ready at any moment, but Addy’s rest breaks only came when Lavrov didn’t need Iriana.

  Loud moans sounded as the wall behind the sofa thumped in a steady rhythm. Addy glanced down at the stopwatch that’d become her team’s pastime the past couple of weeks. “You aren’t timing him.”

  “Sixty-second man can wait. What’s Lavrov doing here?” Shep asked. He leaned his lean, muscular frame back on the sofa and rested his long legs on the small coffee table. Curiosity glinted within the man’s pale green gaze as he pulled his unruly, dark blond hair from his face.

  Good question. Kristof Lavrov was a pain in her ass in more ways than one, but for the sake of her team and everyone else at The Arsenal, Addy tolerated his existence. It wasn’t the first time he’d proven useful over the years.

  “I’ll cover the roof,” Johnny said as he popped up from the sofa, bouncing from one foot to another like a prized fighter about to enter a bout.

  She glanced at the discarded Red Bull cans on the floor and wondered if he’d bothered sleeping. Dark circles darkened the light mocha skin beneath his coal black eyes. Black jeans and a black T-shirt completed the goth vibe the lanky sniper wore like a second skin.

  “No. His BMW drew enough attention pulling up. We can’t risk anyone from Yesim’s crew actually paying attention and spotting you.” Addy met her sniper’s gaze. His eyebrows lifted. “Not that you’d be that sloppy.”

  The man didn’t reply. He twirled the skull ring on his index finger and looked away.

  “You need to rest,” she said.

  “I’ll rest when this is done.” He ran a hand through his spiked black hair and paced toward the sliding glass door.

  “You aren’t going out there alone,” Beast said, hands fisted at his sides. “This shit’s gone on long enough. It’s time we changed things up.”

  “Iriana’s cover is solid in Kristof’s network. I didn’t waste a month doing his dirty work for nothing. The auction is in two days. This is almost over.”

  “He’s taking advantage of the situation,” Beast said. “This past two weeks is overkill.”

  Maybe. Addy rubbed the palms of her hands on her eyes. “Kristof had a valid concern going into this. He wouldn’t typically accept someone holding an auction without his approval since everything sold in the underground is supposed to go through him. Everything we’ve done the past few days was so that anyone watching him would see he’s conducting business as usual with his new enforcer. It strengthens my cover and eases any tensions people may have when he enters that auction. We’ll be done in a few days.”

  “Unless they move it again,” Shep said. He shoved a clip into his Glock. “How do we know he’s not fucking with us?”

  They didn’t. He’d swept her into his world with seemingly unobstructed access to its inner workings. The action demonstrated his absolute trust in Iriana so that anyone knew she was to be as feared as him. But everything hinged on Kristof. There was little The Arsenal could do since they were operating illegally within Russia.

  Okay, they technically had a couple of government contracts to secure the missiles, but that didn’t mean shit if things went sideways. Political blowhards scurried faster than roaches.

  “We don’t,” Zoey said into the com. “But she’s right. This is the play.”

  Surprise kept Addy quiet as she exited the apartment and made her way down the rickety stairwell leading to the main entrance. Zoey had come a long way since arriving at The Arsenal, but she was still an emotionally charged timebomb with a short fuse Kristof set off anytime he was within Addy’s reach.

  A light breeze swept Addy’s hair into her face. She brushed it away, using the motion to cover her quick visual scan of the area. Lavrov knew better than show up here. An occasional drop-off after an underground fight was one thing. Appearing in broad daylight? Total lunacy. They had an agreement.

  “What are you doing here?” Flawless Russian rolled from her without hesitation as her gaze swept to the building Yesim’s crew sometimes inhabited. The fake accent had become second nature the past month. No one except Kristof knew who she truly was.

  He hadn’t trusted anyone in his crew to know the truth—that he’d made a deal with The Arsenal to help them secure the biochemical weapons in exchange for a meet with Stacia. Who was she? Why had Lavrov agreed to help just for a chance to speak with the woman Zoey had rescued from a sex trafficker three years ago?

  Kristof rose from his perch atop the car hood. Blood droplets, courtesy of the enforcement visit she’d made with him a few hours ago, still dotted the white shirt barely visible beneath his dark gray Armani suit. Dark circles contrasted against his pale gray eyes. “Iriana.”

  The man exuded sex appeal in every movement, quiet confidence he projected with ease. The expensive material clung to his muscular thighs as he strode forward. She’d spent too many sleepless nights wondering what he looked like stripped bare.

  “Lavrov.” She crossed her arms. Tingles beaded along her arms when his gaze slid from her face and paused at her breasts. The red spaghetti-strapped top she wore hugged her body. “What are you doing here?”

  “We have business to attend.”

  Addy stifled the curse rising in her throat. They’d tended business for a day straight and had stopped three hours ago. Did the bastard ever sleep?

  Early-morning dawn threatened on the horizon, offering soft splays of promised light. Her gaze swept to Ivan, Kristof’s second-in-command, who glared at her from the other side of the car where he waited. They’d butted heads in the past, not that the idiot knew. Back then she’d been Addy, an Arsenal operative.

  A new hair color and a fake Russian accent had addled his pea-sized brain into accepting her as Iriana, mercenary for hire. Her new identity, however, was a threat he wasn’t accepting easily. He
didn’t like that Kristof had brought her into their network.

  She slid her hand down Kristof’s muscular torso and purred. “Then let’s go. I do love the fun you come up with.”

  She slid into the backseat of the BMW and shimmied to the driver’s side as Kristof entered behind her. He roped an arm around her shoulder and slid it down her side. The feather-soft contact along her bruised ribs ignited her pulse.

  Although he was a vile bastard who bought and sold anything and anyone if the price was right, he was also an astute and tactile son of a bitch. She grasped his thigh and squeezed until her fingers pressed into the sensitive nerves buried beneath muscle.

  Amusement glinted within his gaze when it locked with hers. “You challenge me with your beauty, Iriana.”

  “You can’t handle me.” She looked away. Iriana never succumbed to Kristof’s seduction. It was one of the only things about the persona Addy admired. The rest? Well, it was tolerable as long as they secured the missiles. “Where are we going?”

  “That’s not your business,” Ivan spat. He glared at her through the rearview mirror as he drove them out of the Maryino District. “We don’t need her for this.”

  “Drive.” Boredom filled Kristof’s voice, but tension corded his body. “Don’t question my decisions again, Ivan. You’ve forgotten your position too many times recently. I tire of your childishness.”

  The man growled but made no comment.

  “I can’t wait until this is over so you can kick that bastard’s ass,” Zoey said in the com.

  Yeah, Addy owed the bastard a beat down after he’d worked her over the last time their paths crossed. She’d gone undercover as an asset Kristof was selling to the highest bidder in order to rescue a friend of Zoey’s.

  Her pulse thundered in her ears as regret and embarrassment rolled through her. Yeah, she’d made a lot of foolish mistakes during that op. Mistakes no one would ever know about.

  The Arsenal had pressed for details of what’d happened when she’d shut off coms. They wouldn’t ever find out, though. No one except the man beside her would know what a fool she’d been when she’d…

  Don’t go there. Focus on the mission.

  She pushed the memories back. No good came from remembering what’d happened during that mission.

  “He’d better not take you to another enforcement situation,” Zoey said.

  He likely was. Until Yesim’s syndicate held the auction, she was Kristof’s enforcer. She’d done worse during her years at Hive, the organization her brother had started. Peter had kidnapped and tortured one of Addy’s friends. The brilliant back office operative, Mary, and her equally amazing friend had created one kickass security system that he’d wanted.

  Addy should’ve known the twisted psychopath was after HERA. After Mary. Vi. He’d wanted to find out who’d helped them design the drugs and weaponry used by the system’s drones.

  Mary had survived and been rescued, thanks to The Arsenal. They’d helped the two women take Hive down and keep their friends, Bree and Rhea, safe.

  No thanks to Addy.

  Sure, she’d helped, but she should’ve realized what he was up to. Hell, she would’ve put a bullet in Peter herself if given the chance.

  The bastard was dead. May he rot in hell. They’d all scraped off the past and moved on with a new life at The Arsenal. The private paramilitary organization had become the best around after taking not only Hive down but The Collective as well.

  Yeah, they’d been mired in bullshit and trouble since they’d arrived, but Addy wouldn’t have it any other way. She had a lot to make up for.

  She wouldn’t fail Mary and Vi ever again.

  Ivan pulled into a warehouse about twenty minutes later. The vehicle’s headlights lit the otherwise darkened interior. Unease pricked her skin when she exited. Why were they here?

  “Establish a perimeter,” Zoey said. “Beast, get some eyes into that warehouse. I don’t like whatever this is.”

  “Roger, we’re a quarter click back. Johnny’s taking overwatch across the street.”

  Kristof exited behind her and shut the door. “Ivan, make sure our guest didn’t bring any unwelcome visitors with him.”

  “What the hell is this?” She clenched her teeth and glared up at the man beside her.

  “There’s a situation we must rectify, a rather sensitive one.” He continued forward into the darkness. “I trust our Hummingbird has nested nearby.”

  “I swear I’m going to have Gage kick his ass if he doesn’t stop calling me that,” Zoey said in the com.

  Addy didn’t reply. Kristof knew The Arsenal would follow wherever she went. He’d accepted their presence within his world easier than she’d expected—mainly because they hadn’t made any moves to disrupt his illegal enterprises. As long as he abided by their one restriction, he could do whatever he wanted. No human trafficking. None of them were okay with the things he did, but the biochemical weapons were their sole focus.

  For now.

  Addy followed Kristof deeper into the darkened interior until they approached a lone bulb casting light onto a man secured to a chair. Blood oozed from a wound along the man’s swollen left eye and dribbled from his busted lip.

  “You will die for this!” The man spat blood toward Kristof when he approached.

  “I was under the impression you’d learned some manners since we last spoke,” Kristof said as he approached the man from the side and grabbed his blond hair. He glanced at the two armed men behind the captive. “Has he said anything more?”

  Both shook their head. Neither spoke. What the hell was going on?

  Addy approached. She scored her fingernail down the man’s damaged cheek and smiled when he cried out from the pain. Bile rose in her throat, but she slid into her Iriana persona. The sadistic merc enjoyed making people scream.

  “You’ve been a bad boy,” Iriana whispered. “I’ll make you confess. One way or another, you’ll scream for me.”

  The man’s good eye widened. He pulled at the restraints securing him to the chair. “You can’t do this. I’m protected!”

  “There is no protection from me.” Kristof chuckled and pulled off his blazer. He handed it over to one of the minions. “Who do you think contacted me?”

  “You lie.”

  Addy kicked the man’s groin. His bellow echoed within the empty warehouse. She leaned forward. “Call him a liar again. Go ahead.”

  The man cowered, pulling his face as far away from Addy as he could. “I’m sorry.”

  “Where are they?” Kristof asked. “Tell me now before Iriana gets angry.”

  “They aren’t yours,” the man said. Red rose in his face.

  “You stole what wasn’t yours.” Kristof stood in front of the man and glared down. “I almost admire your blatant stupidity. Stealing women from your boss’s rival without him knowing. Or did he? Did Gavriil know?”

  “Son of a bitch. This is about trafficking,” Zoey said. “Why the hell is he involving you in this? I’m going to kick his ass.”

  Addy would gladly take the first shot at Kristof. He knew better than to involve them in any human trafficking. So far he’d abided by their rule.

  “Did Gavriil know?” Kristof repeated.

  “No.” The man shook his head. “He refused to get more! Said we could wait a few more months. He knows nothing!”

  “How did you get them?” Kristof glanced at his perfectly-manicured nails, seemingly bored with the entire conversation.

  The man glared up at Kristof.

  “Very well.” Kristof glanced at Addy. “He’s all yours.”

  Without hesitation, she pulled her gun out and shot the man’s knee. His screams filled her ears, but Addy welcomed the numbness she’d honed over twenty years ago. Act. React. There was no room for emotions on an op. Ever.

  “Fuck.” Beast’s voice over the com fractured a bit of Addy’s control.

  “Radio silence,” Jesse ordered.

  “Bitch!” the man screa
med.

  Addy aimed and fired a shot into the second knee. Blood sprayed the area a second time. Kristof clucked his tongue in mock disapproval as he stepped around the splatter.

  He chuckled. “I warned you not to piss her off. Where are they?”

  When the man continued his pained screams rather than answer, Addy pressed the gun against the man’s crotch, but remained silent. Unwelcomed unease pricked her skin. She couldn’t vocalize the threat, not with Jesse on the com.

  He’d been through a hell no one should ever endure. She wouldn’t remind him of what he’d undergone to enforce for Kristof. A whimper escaped him as she pressed harder.

  “He asked you a question,” she whispered. “Please don’t answer. I’m just starting to enjoy myself.”

  “A truck I parked at my cousin’s,” the man said.

  “Address?” When the man hesitated, Kristof thundered. “Address! Now!”

  When the man remained silent, Addy debated her reaction. She couldn’t follow through with the threat. She walked over to a small tray beside the table, set down her weapon, and donned gloves.

  She returned to the man and smiled. “I was hoping you’d stay quiet. Time to play.”

  She gripped the man’s thigh with one hand and squeezed his wound with the other. Screams filled her ears. She held the grip a few more seconds, then stepped back.

  He cried out the address. “Please. No more.”

  “Who helped you? How did you get them?”

  Kristof’s question added more questions to her own growing list. Who had this bastard taken women from and why was he involving her in this shit? He knew better.

  “They were in transport with one guard. They were moved every two days. I watched. Always only one guard.” The man spat blood in Addy’s direction. “I took out the guard and loaded them into the truck.”

  “Find out where the women are inside the house,” Zoey said. “Never mind. It won’t matter. We’ll get them out.”

  “Z,” Jesse said.

  “We aren’t ignoring this,” the woman argued.

  “Let’s get Addy out, then we’ll address it,” Jesse said.