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Fearless Mating_An A.L.F.A. Novel

Page 17

by Milly Taiden


  The gunman shuffled back to a large pipe exiting the roof and quickly looked around it. Josh moved to stand and helped her up. The man hurried back, gun raised. “You’re not going anywhere,” he said.

  Josh’s chest rumbled against her back. “I thought I recognized your voice. But you didn’t say enough in the truck,” Josh said. “What do you want, Mikhail?”

  Candy whipped her head around and stared at the bastard pointing a gun at him. With the dark paint on his face, Josh didn’t recognize the man from the YouTube video. But he wasn’t looking for similarities, either. Plus the heavy vodka smell wasn’t on his clothes like with the others. That was because the asshole was wearing the uniform of the dog trainer he’d killed earlier.

  Loudly, she said, “Mikhail Steganovich, who would’ve thought you’d get by Captain Bridges’s men who are at the White House right now? Men who are highly trained, standing around, ready for something to do. Yup, Colonel Bridges. At the White House. Right now.”

  Josh leaned down to her ear. “You okay?”

  “I know what I’m doing,” she said, trying to move her mouth as little as possible.

  Mikhail stared at her like she was nutso. “Uh, yeah, it was easy, actually. Your fucking procedures make it so predictable.” The Russian stepped closer to her, squinting his eyes. “I’ve seen you before, haven’t I? You’re that woman promoted to some position no other woman’s ever had.” He nodded and grinned. “We’re keeping tabs on all you. We know who you are and how to get to you.”

  That sent a chill down Candy’s back. She assumed the “we” he spoke of was Russia. That country and the U.S. had always had a tentative friendship. This could cause an international incident that wouldn’t be pretty.

  Down a ways, the door to the roof slammed. Hopefully, Mike had understood her earlier instructions and was on the way to the White House.

  She looked at him. “You’re on a clock, Steganovich. Just go back to the truck and drive away. Any direction you want. We won’t see it.” She read the uncertainty in his eyes. Josh should smell it, too. Then a nasty smile grew on the man’s face.

  “You killed my brother.” His body shook, his face red from more than the cool wind. “I will enjoy watching you both being interrogated. I will avenge his death.”

  “Come on, Mikhail,” she said, disgust pushing her buttons. “Your brother killed two people and held the NIA director hostage. What the fuck did you think would happen? It was his own damn fault that he died. He could’ve just walked away.”

  The Russian screamed and fired his automatic gun, narrowly missing them. Josh squashed her into the concrete. Her heart raced so hard, it hurt. Could a thirtysomething have a heart attack from the heart beating too fast?

  The man stood, panting, staring behind them. “How fitting. Instead of my brother taking the helicopter, I will in his place with better hostages.” He waved his gun at them. “Both of you get in the helicopter. We’re going for a ride.”

  “We don’t know how to fly,” Josh lied. She wondered if he knew or not. Knowing his skill set, he probably knew how to do about everything there was.

  “Then I’ll kill you both and be on my way.” He raised his gun level with Josh’s head.

  Chapter Thirty-seven

  As Josh stared down the barrel of a rifle, he hoped this asshole believed they didn’t have a chance of getting off the roof of the NIB. With Mike on his way to the White House, help was coming. If they could stall long enough, then Bridges could get here with his guys. That would take a while, but that was the only possibility he saw.

  “I can fly,” Candy said. “Put the gun down, Mikhail.”

  Josh dropped his chin to his chest. Why did she confess? No, no, no. That wasn’t how this kind of game was played.

  “Put the gun down, Mikhail,” Candy repeated, climbing to her feet. Josh tried to edge in front of her, putting himself between her and the gun. His mate spun on him. “If we are going to try this mating thing, you have to be fucking alive to do it. If you—”

  “Or you,” he added.

  “Yes, if one of us dies, then forget it.”

  Was that her way of saying she wanted to be with him? Elation and true fear struck him at the same time. He was so close to having her, and so close to having her taken away.

  “Enough talking.” Mikhail raised his aim overhead, specifically at Josh. “The only reason I’m keeping you, Mr. Smart Ass, is because you’re a director. I will get paid well for you. And I will enjoy beating you when you are tied and can’t defend yourself. It will be for Yulian.”

  “Someone is paying you to kidnap people?” Candy asked. That was surprising. “What happened to you and your brother doing it all yourselves?”

  “It’s a lot easier than trying to get the money myself. Now get in the helicopter. I’d hate to give up the director’s worth, but I will if either of you cause problems. Director, get in on the other side. Any moves and I’ll put a bullet in Miss Army’s head.”

  Shit. Hands in the air, he walked around the helicopter. He’d bide his time and wait for the opportunity to attack. There would be one. He just needed to be patient.

  As he settled in the seat, Mikhail shoved his mate forward. That was enough for a death sentence in his book. Patient, he’d be patient. Candy opened the pilot’s door and climbed in. He read the confidence in her eyes. He hoped she had a plan. He knew she was good. She wouldn’t be where she was if she wasn’t.

  Mikhail hopped into the back and held a pistol to his mate’s head in the pilot’s seat. The rifle slid behind the back seats. No chance for him to reach that without getting up. No opportunity there.

  Candy started up the helicopter and they all put on headsets. He prayed she didn’t do anything to get herself killed. But Mikhail now knew how to get her to bend to his wishes. Threaten him, her mate. Dammit.

  “Where are we going, Mikhail?” she asked.

  “To the cargo docks, where the ships are,” he said.

  Josh caught her eye. That was a strange place to go. Was the man planning to take a cruise home? Candy lifted off, quickly turning them in the wrong direction. But Mikhail wouldn’t know since he wasn’t familiar with the city. He glanced at her, but kept his poker face. He hoped she knew what she was doing.

  The local air traffic control man spoke through their headsets. Mikhail poked his gun into Candy’s head again. “Don’t talk to them.”

  “I have to,” she explained. “They need to know who we are and where we’re going.”

  “No, they don’t,” the Russian said in perfect English. “We will be gone before they can get anyone to find us.”

  Air traffic came on again, asking for identification and destination. Candy maintained radio silence. After a couple of minutes, Josh saw the White House come into view. Oh, shit. Was she going to do what he thought?

  His mate glanced at him and grinned. Oh, fuck. She was.

  Candy kicked their air speed much faster than it should have been. At the same time, she dipped them to tree-top level. Air traffic control screamed over the headset, warning of restricted airspace and threatening to shoot them down. Candy switched them off.

  “What are you doing?” Mikhail yelled. “Get out of here. Go to the docks or I will shoot you.”

  “Mikhail,” Candy said calmly, “if you shoot me, you will be a red smoldering splotch on the back lawn of the White House. Now be quiet while I buzz the place.”

  “You’re buzzing the president’s home?” Mikhail looked out the window. “Isn’t that illegal?”

  “Damn right, it’s illegal,” his mate laughed, “and you should be loving it. Your flyboys do this to our ships at sea all the time. It aggravates the hell out of them.”

  “That’s why we do it,” Mikhail proudly said as if he had some personal role in what the Russian military did. “Circle again,” he directed with glee on his face.
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  He hoped she remembered about the snipers mounted on the roof. That would explain her gut-wrenching, vomit-producing flying.

  “We need to keep going,” Candy said, “before they mount an attack.”

  “Yes, yes. Go, then,” the Russki said.

  Candy turned them in the correct direction and high-tailed out of the city.

  “Mikhail,” Candy said, “you’ve pulled off an incredible feat. Having the hostages to divert attention away from the White House was genius.” Josh looked at Candy. Was she going over the edge? Lack of food and sleep making her loopy? “How did the men get inside the building to take hostages?”

  “That was easy, Miss Army Girl. You Americans think you’re so safe here in your little country. We made our own truck with fake floor where my men hid until they passed security.”

  “How did you get the caterer to use it?” Josh asked.

  “We took his family.” The Russian shrugged like it was an everyday thing, common sense.

  “Army Girl, how did you get to the fountain?” Mikhail asked. “No one in Russia has that information. You do well to hide it.”

  “That fountain escape route?” his mate said nonchalantly. “Lots of people know about it. It’s been there a long time. How many bombs did you plant in the president’s home?” she asked.

  The terrorist smiled. “You would like to know, wouldn’t you?”

  She scowled. His mate did a good job with a sneak interrogation, pumping the guy full of praise. Josh hadn’t realized her ploy until a few minutes ago, either. The bastard played along for a bit, giving information that meant little, though.

  The water and large cargo ships came into sight. “Where are we landing?” Candy asked.

  “Not here,” he said. “We’re landing on a boat at sea.”

  Chapter Thirty-eight

  The son of a bitch had to be joking, Candy thought. No wonder he didn’t complain about dive-bombing the White House. She was taking him out of the country immediately. Fuck!

  “Here.” She felt Mikhail’s arm press against hers. He handed her a scrap of paper with numbers written on it. “Follow these coordinates exactly.” Shit, shit, shit. She couldn’t do this. There had to be something she could do.

  “You know, Mikhail,” she said, “even on the water the Coast Guards can arrest you.”

  He laughed. “I know the rules as well as you, Army Lady. If a boat is flying a foreign flag in international waters, you won’t interfere to avoid a diplomatic mess with Russia.”

  Dammit, she knew Mikhail was smart enough to pull something like this off. Think.

  “Yeah, you got me there, Mikhail,” she said. “I had to try. How far out is the boat? We only have enough fuel to go so far.” International waters started about twelve miles out, so it wasn’t that far for the ship to be in neutral territory.

  “We have fuel to get there. No worries.” He seemed too calm for the situation. Was that good or bad? She thought about bringing up Yulian, his dead brother. But that might piss him off enough to shoot her or her mate after they landed.

  Passing over the open water, she gradually slowed their speed and kept a high altitude. She’d stay in radar range as long as she could. Not that it would do much good where they were going.

  She glanced at Josh from the corner of her eye. He stared out the side window. She wondered what he was thinking. Did he have a plan? Formulating one? Did he have some animal skill that could help them? Unless he shifted into a kraken, too, she doubted there was much he could do.

  The side of her head pounded. A bottle of aspirin sounded good right now. When was the last time she and Josh had eaten? Other than the finger foods from the caterer’s tray in her office, she’d had nothing since her late lunch.

  “Mikhail,” she asked, “do you have the radio frequency for the ship? I’ll need to talk with them to land.”

  “They know we are coming. You don’t need to talk to anyone.”

  She wanted to stand in her seat and scream at the fool, but instead took a deep breath. “Mikhail, it is the middle of the night. There isn’t a damn thing to see except stars. If the ship is a little bit off the coordinates, they could be miles away and we’d never see them.”

  “Just stay on the route,” was all he said.

  At a loss for what to say or do, she’d just fly until something came along. At least Josh was with her. She wasn’t alone to die. Not that she wanted him to die with her. But he was a calming comfort to her erratic personality.

  Up ahead, she saw something on the water. Lights. Well, damn. There is the ship, she thought. They hadn’t been in the air all that long. Too long to swim to shore, but easily within range to fly back.

  Candy hovered high over the ship, looking for an open area. “Where do I land?” she asked.

  “At the front of the boat,” he said.

  She snorted. “Where? There isn’t a big enough space.”

  “Yes, there is,” he replied.

  “No, there’s not,” she came back. “I need at least thirty feet. The damn blades are that long.”

  “I’ve seen it done before,” he ranted.

  “On this ship, this space?” Candy asked.

  “No, but—”

  “Exactly,” she yelled, “it can’t be done.”

  Mikhail put two pistols to Josh head. “Land. Now.”

  “Goddammit,” Candy yelled. “I should crash this fucker into the ship’s bridge to teach you a lesson, asshole.” The weather devices on top of the bridge’s roof gave her wind direction. At least she knew that. Wind on her nose, she gauged the ship’s speed. Come in too fast, the rotors would slam into the metal shipping containers stacked against the front edge of the deck. Come in too slowly and they would miss the ship completely, crashing into the water.

  She slowed the hover making sure the containers cleared the rotor diameter. Then descended farther. Immediately, the helicopter began to violently shake. Warning buzzers screeched. The copter rolled and pitched, threatening to crash.

  “What’s happening?” Mikhail hollered.

  “Exactly what I told you, moron,” she hollered back. The craft started to drop. “We’re in a vortex. Pulling out, now.” She increased lateral airspeed and banked to the side, pushing for altitude. White caps from waves appeared out the window. “Come on, baby,” she coaxed as the water came closer with every second. “You can do this.” The controls came back under her command, the alarms shut off, and she leveled out.

  She was ready to throw up now. Check, please. Josh gripped the seat and door handle with white knuckles. “What’s a vortex?” Josh asked.

  She answered: “Remember back when the SEALs went in after Bin Laden and one of the helos crashed inside the compound?”

  “Yeah,” he said.

  “The pilot probably got caught in what we call a vortex ring state. It’s when you try to land in your own downwash.”

  “What’s downwash?” Josh asked.

  Now was not the time for flight instruction. “Downwash is the air the rotors are pushing down to keep the helo hovering. When the air hits the ground, it bounces back up, messing with all the dynamics and rotors, causing the craft to rock and roll.”

  “How did we not crash when the SEAL did?” Mikhail asked.

  “I was able to increase speed and get out of it. The SEAL had high walls surrounding him. He had no options. He had to settle with power,” she explained.

  “He what?” the Russian asked.

  “He had to land extremely hard. Enough to damage the helo, obviously, since they abandoned it.”

  “So,” Mikhail said, “try again.”

  She fisted her hands. “Mikhail, did you not understand—”

  “Yes, I’ve seen it done,” he replied. “Try again.”

  Shit. He was going to get them killed. Now or later. She check
ed wind direction again and would try a different angle where the air didn’t bounce off the metal containers as much. Maybe that would help.

  Hovering over the ship, she tried again. This time the ride was less rough and they landed with a thud.

  “Now get out. We’re going to see your executioner.” Mikhail laughed.

  Chapter Thirty-nine

  Josh had never been prouder of his little mate than he was at that moment. She had nerves of steel and hands as steady as they came. Her knowledge and expertise had let them do the near impossible. Hopefully, that wasn’t all for naught.

  He climbed from the passenger’s side and was met by three huge Russians. Damn, they grew them big in that country. They rivaled him in size and they were human. As he looked at one of them, the other bashed him in the head.

  Pain zinged through his scalp and neck, taking him to his knees. He heard Candy screaming over the cheap shot, not far away. He pretended to stay down so they would think him less a threat. He needed to get his bearings and come up with an escape plan.

  They dragged him through doorways and down stairs to a cell made with iron bars welded to the floor, walls, and ceilings. His hope was that his mate would be with him. One of the men spoke in a language he didn’t understand. The cage door opened and he was thrown in. Candy was pushed in behind him. Thank god.

  He had to laugh at her. She was chewing them a new asshole and was pretty damn good at it. If they’d understood her, they might be afraid. When the men had left, she was at his side in a second.

  “Dammit, Josh.” She tore off a piece of her shirt and pulled the bottle half full of water from her pants pocket. She soaked the scrap of material. “Sit up. You need to drink.” Her hand slipped behind his back to help. She held the bottle as he sucked in lukewarm liquid.

  She dabbed at the sore spot on the back of his head. His wolf had sealed the cut, but the area was still a bloody mess. “Can’t you go anywhere without getting into trouble?” she said. Exasperation and humor flitted through her voice. “Seems everywhere you’ve been the past eighteen hours some disaster has occurred.” She lay his head in her lap.

 

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