by Kitty DuCane
“Not me. I have to kill you; otherwise, he'll see it as me disobeying orders. I'm fucked either way, and so are you.”
Sweat popped out on Julio's lip. “You and I could always take the money and run, eh?”
“We could do that, but he's watching, so I've got to kill you while he's looking.”
Hayden lifted his gun and pointed it straight at Julio's chest. “Sorry, but I have no choice.”
Two shots echoed in the warehouse.
Chapter Eighteen
Hayden loaded the thirty-two duffel bags onto the jet before he climbed aboard and closed the hatch. He approached the pilot from behind and then clasped him on the shoulder.
“Are you sure you know how to fly this thing?” he asked as he slipped into the copilot's seat and strapped in.
Blade turned toward Hayden and grinned. “With my eyes closed.”
“Well, keep your damn eyes open.”
“Hayden. You wound me with your lack of confidence.”
“Yeah, right,” said Hayden.
Hayden remained silent while Blade checked his instruments and prepared for takeoff. The night was clear. A good night for flying.
After they were airborne, Blade said, “You're one slick son of a bitch, you know that?”
Hayden grinned. “I assume everything went according to plan?”
“Yep. Like clockwork. All Manuel's men were corralled like the swine they are. And using the neon paint balls was brilliant. Rat said that he's never had more fun than popping each truck and car with them. And the choppers had no trouble tracking them.”
Hayden had called in two hundred DEA agents from all across the U.S. He didn't need that many to take down the trucks, but his plan went further than that. The DEA was delivering the trucks to their destinations, and that was the one flaw to the plan. Things could get ugly when the trucks driven by the DEA finally reached their destination points, and they started arresting people. He hoped that several of the trucks were going to the same location. That would put more agents in one place.
Of course, the local DEA had no idea that two hundred of their buds had invaded their jurisdiction, but he couldn't help that. Without knowing who the mole was, he'd had to rely on outside agents only. His captain would be pissed, and he wouldn't blame him, but shit, his back was against the wall without a door.
“How's Julio?” Hayden asked.
“He's singing like a bird. Staging his death was brilliant. It does rub me the wrong way that he may go into the Witness Protection Program when he's done singing.”
“He may not have to sing long,” said Hayden.
Blade looked at his friend. “You plan to kill Manuel?”
Hayden shrugged. “You know I can't answer that.”
“Yeah. Then I'd have to try to stop you. That would be a bitch.”
Hayden's eyes were hard, his jaw set firmly. “Don't get in my way, Blade. This is personal.”
Blade shrugged. “Hey, man, I'm with you. I'll even help you if you want to tag-team him.”
“No. I think I want the kill all to myself.”
“Can't blame you for that.”
“I've never wanted to kill anyone before. Now I know how she felt. It leaves a vile taste in my mouth.”
“I'm sure it does, bro. But I do have some good news for you.”
Hayden hitched one brow.
“I know her name.”
“You mean…her name? How?”
Blade nodded. “I found out from Janelle down in your personnel office.”
“The one you've been screwing?”
Blade grinned. “Anyway, Red McLain did have a mother that he told the DEA about. I paid a midnight visit to Mrs. Carolyn McLain. I found lots of pictures of a pretty little girl with red hair. And after rifling through drawers and papers and other shit, I found a name.”
Blade paused.
“Well, what the fuck is it?”
Blade grinned. “You're an impatient son of a bitch.”
“Blade.”
“Victoria. Victoria Anne McLain.”
“Victoria,” Hayden mumbled to himself. Her name rolled through his mind. He liked that name. It didn't fit her, but nothing about…Victoria…was standard. Hayden wondered if Red had named her. Hayden didn't think so. Red would have chosen something male, like Sam or Jo.
Maybe her mom had had visions of a daughter dressed in frilly dresses, all prim and proper, playing with dolls. If that was so, someone was disappointed. He doubted that Victoria even owned a dress, and if she did, there was a slim-to-none chance that he'd ever get to see her wear it.
Hayden couldn't pinpoint when he ditched the running-away-to-a-tropical-island idea. But if he'd followed through with that plan in the first place, she'd be safe from Manuel.
Hayden's mind ran rampant with all the awful things that could be happening to her. She couldn't escape if she was throwing her guts up. He kicked himself. He never should have bitten her. It was a selfish move on his part, and now she might die because she was his mate, because she was sick from the mating hormone.
A huge hand rested on Hayden's shoulder. “We'll get her back, and then you can lock her up and throw away the damn key, so you'll always know where she is. Because, damn, if she ain't a lot of trouble.”
Hayden smiled. Yeah, she was.
“Why don't you take a snooze? You're going to need all your brains to pull this mission off,” said Blade.
“Who's going to keep you awake while you fly this tin can?”
“I'm good. Caught some z's the last forty-eight hours. Have you?”
Hayden didn't answer as he reclined his head on the headrest and closed his eyes. A twenty-minute nap would do him good.
Chapter Nineteen
Dr. Zellia helped Victoria settle into a seat on the veranda. It was hot, and Manuel insisted that she wear next to nothing. The first day it was the black teddy; the second day it was a white silk robe with nothing underneath. Victoria thought the white robe had clashed horribly with her complexion.
Today it was only a bra, panties, and thigh-highs. Several of the guards patrolling the area leered openly at her, but she didn't really care. She knew she was dying of some unknown virus or disease, and she could only hope that it was contagious and that she'd given it to Manuel and everyone else here.
Dr. Zellia took the seat next to her and poured a glass of water for each of them. Victoria took the glass and drank sparingly. Her belly muscles ached from heaving so much. The medicine kept her from throwing up for the most part, but the smell of food did her in every time. She was weak as a newborn kitten. The IV helped, but she needed protein—protein that didn't have a smell to it.
“I've noticed that most of the female staffers wear extremely short outfits,” stated Victoria.
Zellia nodded.
“But not you.”
Zellia's eyes briefly sought hers. “Most of the female staff are beautiful, and Manuel likes exposed flesh. That's why he's paraded you around in that lingerie. It's degrading, which is the other reason why he does it.”
“But you're beautiful, Dr. Zellia. Why do you get special treatment?”
“Because I'm a cripple. He detests flaws. I'm only good at being a doctor.”
“And that suits you fine.”
“Yes. Being a cripple is a blessing. And your sickness is a blessing, at least for now.”
Understanding passed between them. He hadn't touched her, but his eyes roaming over her body told her that it was only a matter of time. Victoria understood the look in Manuel's eyes. If she hadn't been throwing up, Manuel would have acted on his lust.
Zellia always wore conservative cotton dresses that covered her ample breasts with high- or square-necked collars. Zellia's flowing dresses covered her legs down to her ankles, probably to cover any scars. Victoria knew that Dr. Zellia wasn't an idiot. The jury was still out as to whether she was friend or foe, though.
“Why do you stay here?” asked Victoria.
Zellia l
ooked away, glancing at the courtyard. Victoria thought that perhaps she had overstepped the boundaries.
“You're a prisoner here too,” Victoria said quietly.
Zellia turned her head back to Victoria and forced a painful smile. “I still don't know what's wrong with you,” Zellia said.
Whatever was keeping Zellia here was painful for her, and Zellia didn't appear to be the type to formulate an escape plan. Manuel had her trapped in his twisted world.
“That makes two of us.”
“You need to see a specialist when you get back to America.”
“Do you really think that is going to happen, that I'll ever leave Colombia?”
Zellia smiled knowingly. “I think you will.”
“And you base that revelation on what?”
Zellia's face remained confident. “My gut.”
“I hope your gut is right, but if I were you, I wouldn't make any bets based on it. You might go broke.”
Zellia laughed. “We'll see.”
“Does your gut say when I get to leave?”
“Soon.”
They sat in silence for a moment, each lost in her own thoughts. Victoria studied the courtyard and walls. Security patrolled in a haphazard fashion, and the sun reflected off the razor ribbon winding across the top of the perimeter wall, which stood at least ten feet high. The wall was not an option for her in her present condition.
The guards searched all vehicles entering the compound, but luckily—maybe—for her, they weren't as thorough with the outgoing vehicles.
“So,” said Victoria. “Do you have any family?”
Pain washed across Zellia's face. “I…I have no one.”
The warm breeze stirred the flowers in the pots scattered about the veranda. Victoria knew there was pain in Zellia over that question. Death popped into Victoria's mind. “I'm sorry,” said Victoria.
Zellia smoothed an imaginary wrinkle from her cotton dress. “Yes. Me too.”
Zellia stood. “I must go check on José. He's got a rash, and if I don't keep him lathered with cream, he'll scratch until he bleeds.”
“I would help you, but I'm not appropriately dressed.”
Zellia stopped beside Victoria's chair, placed her hand on Victoria's shoulder, and gave a gentle squeeze. “Remember. Things are never as they appear.”
Before Victoria could respond, Zellia was gone.
What did that mean? It appeared to Victoria that she was dying of an unknown virus, and she was the hostage of a maniac. Why didn't he just kill her? Unless he was waiting for the virus to pass. Was Dr. Zellia giving her a placebo to keep her stomach rolling, to keep Victoria safe? Victoria didn't think so, but either way, it was a blessing.
“Trust no one.” That's what her dad had said.
Chapter Twenty
“Hayden. Time to rise and shine. It's showtime.”
Hayden's eyes flew open as he pulled his weapon.
“Easy, buddy. Save the shooting for the bad guys.”
Hayden blinked, and Blade came into view. “Sorry. How long did I sleep?”
“The entire flight.”
Hayden raked his hands down his face. “Damn. Sorry. I didn't intend to check out on you like that.”
“You needed it. Team One and Team Two are in position outside the compound. They've hidden your toys in a black knapsack in a tree on the eastern side of the compound. The most important thing in there is the transmitter that you need to inject into your body. That way we can keep track of all operatives, and that means you. There are about two hundred heavily armed, untrained, inefficient, one-step-up-from-a-mall-cop guards in the compound. We'll take out their sleeping quarters first, and then the shit's gonna hit the fan.”
Hayden nodded. Blade had planned Victoria's rescue while he had planned the drug buy. Blade was an expert in hostage rescues, and Hayden was extremely grateful.
“I've never had a mission fail, and I don't intend to start with this one. You feel me?” said Blade.
Hayden grinned. “I'll do my best to make sure that Merc-Air keeps its perfect record. How's business anyway?”
“It's great when I'm not running charity missions in Colombia to get back a pack mate, who doesn't even know she's a pack mate, from a drug lord. But hey, what are pack friends for?”
“Yeah. I owe you one.”
“Don't worry. I always collect.”
The Cessna banked, bringing the landing strip into view. Several jeeps full of soldiers were parked at the far end.
“Looks like the welcoming committee is here,” said Hayden. “You gonna be all right explaining where the real pilot is?”
“Sure. I get my good looks from my Spanish mother.”
Hayden looked at Blade, and even though he couldn't see behind those sunglasses, Hayden knew he was looking into the eyes of a killer. “And your meanness?”
“From my Comanche father.”
The Comanche warriors were fierce fighters, cunning, deadly, and that was Blade. He was a killer who showed no mercy. Hayden was glad he was a friend and not a foe.
“You better get in the back so it doesn't look like we've become pals on the trip.”
Hayden moved to a back seat and let Blade do his job.
Blade eased the plane onto the grass landing strip and taxied to the welcoming committee.
The guards surrounded the plane, guns drawn.
Blade called over his shoulder to Hayden. “You be careful. We almost lost you in this godforsaken jungle last time. I won't stand for it this time. You understand?”
Hayden nodded.
“And thanks for flying Merc-Air.” Blade grinned.
Hayden opened the plane door and flipped down the steps. The metallic sound of rustling rifles greeted him. He held up his hands, walked down the short flight of steps, and barely got out of the way before a black money bag hit the ground. Blade didn't want the soldiers on the plane. Better to keep them busy on the outside.
Greeted by Spanish that he understood as “get your ass into the jeep,” Hayden went to the jeep and got in. After all the bags were loaded, the jeep pulled away. Hayden saw Blade standing in the plane's doorway with two guards at the foot of the steps. Blade's face had changed from carefree to killer. Those guards would be dead in five minutes.
Hayden's wolf hummed with the promise of a kill. Wolves were predators. They hunted. They killed. The human side kept the conscience. But the game had changed. He didn't need his conscience on this mission. Manuel had his mate, and Manuel had to die.
The directive was clear. No matter what happened to him, the team must get Victoria out.
The jeep rolled into the compound. Hayden leisurely looked around for Victoria. He didn't have to wait long. Manuel and Victoria appeared on the second-story veranda. She was dressed in the black corset. He refrained from killing the guards who called her puta. It wasn't time to kill.
Surrounded by his guards, Hayden slipped out of the jeep and walked the few steps to the house. Manuel leaned on the banister. “Welcome to my home. I hope you find your stay enjoyable.”
Hayden crossed his arms and kept his eyes pinned on Manuel. “I doubt it.”
Manuel threw back his head and laughed. “That's what I like about you. Honesty.” Manuel grabbed Victoria by the arm and roughly hauled her to him. “See. She's in one piece.”
Hayden only nodded. He didn't want Manuel to think that Victoria meant anything to him. Her face was etched with pain, and he hoped it was only from the hormone and not some other punishment.
She didn't look well. She was thin, the skin of her face drawn and pale. Effects of the mating hormone. He had to fuck her to ease her pain. His wolf's need to protect would have to wait a little longer. The party didn't start until two a.m.
“What now?” Hayden asked.
“Direct and to the point. I like that. I have a room prepared for you. You can freshen up and meet us in the dining room in one hour. Don't be late.” Manuel hugged Victoria to his side and kissed her hair. �
��Or we'll start without you.”
* * * * *
Blade crouched in a tree and scanned the compound with his binoculars. The guards were lackadaisical, but he surmised that they would never think that anyone in their right mind would attack the powerful Manuel. That's why Blade was always in his left mind.
Movement on the balcony caught his attention. He zeroed in on the figure, finding a woman, a beautiful woman, probably another one of Manuel's whores. She hugged the shawl she wore closer to her body. It was hot as Hades, but this woman was chilled. Blade didn't know why he thought of that, or why he thought it funny. The woman was dressed like a Catholic schoolgirl, which left everything to the imagination. But even under all that flowing material, he knew she had curves. He liked curves. Curves to kiss. Curves to hang on to.
A hothouse flower came to his mind. Delicate, fragile.
Blade blinked. He didn't know why he was concerned with her, or why she'd managed to snare his attention. She was obviously not a threat. She'd better keep her pretty little head down when the metal started flying.
Chapter Twenty-one
As Hayden put on the black dress pants and a black silk shirt that lay on the end of his bed, he wished for his cargo pants and boots. He inspected the room, confident that someone was watching his bare backside. He hadn't been able to pick up Victoria's scent when his detail escorted him to his room, which meant she was not on this hallway. The house was huge. His nose was exceptional. Tonight he'd walk the halls until he found her.
Hayden opened his door, and two guards leveled their weapons on him. He arched an eyebrow but let it go. They motioned him toward the hallway and followed him down the stairs. He didn't pick up Victoria's scent until he stood outside a closed door. One guard knocked and then opened the door.
“You're on time. I demand that from those who work for me.”
I don't work for you, bozo.
Manuel sat at the head of the table with Victoria to his right. Hayden took the seat across from her. He kept his eyes off her and on his host. Manuel nodded, and the servers stationed around the room poured wine and served the entrée while the guards took up residence along the walls.