by Kris Norris
Brett looked into the box. “How many should there be in there?”
“Six.”
“I count three.”
“That son of a bitch.”
A hand on her shoulder. Firm. Comforting. “El—”
“We’ll take one with us. Maybe we can use it as leverage…” She paused, searching his face. “You’re frowning. What’s with the frown? We have the chip, the motherboard.”
“Who knows you brought six of those back besides you and McCormick?”
It felt as if all the heat in her body just bled into the floor, leaving her chilled to the bone. “Damn it.”
“That’s what I thought. It’ll be his word against yours. We need proof he’s doing this. Records or some kind of ledger. I wouldn’t put it past the bastard to have all of his operatives lined up to take the fall if this ever gets out.”
“His office. If he’s got anything, it’ll be on his computer, here.”
The muscle in Brett’s temple jumped. “Where is it?”
“Third floor.”
“Christ.” He stabbed his fingers through his hair then checked his watch. “We’re down to six minutes before those cameras switch back to a live feed.”
“Let me grab a couple of things, then, we’re gone.”
He snagged her elbow as she went to move past him. “If it looks like we’re going to get trapped…”
He’d drag her out of there. He didn’t say it. Didn’t have to. It was written on his face. The fine lines by his eyes and mouth she swore had gotten deeper since venturing inside. She was pushing the boundaries of what he considered a viable risk.
She didn’t answer, just nodded then headed for another bin—a few things she’d stashed in there—just in case. She inputted a code, grabbed two micro-GPS locators, a taser, and a small localized EMP device, then bolted for the door—checking the hallway.
He touched her arm. “Anyway to override the lock? If someone comes in and sees our friend trussed up…”
“I’ll need about twenty seconds.”
He nodded, standing watch as she accessed the main menu, putting the room into lockdown. A quick test, then they were walking, again. Heading for another elevator at the end of the corridor. Thirty seconds before they were inside, doors closing, the unit jerking upward. Another ten and they were ready to react, sighing when the doors opened to nothing but an empty hallway.
She took off, quickly moving down the corridor, taking two lefts then a right, pausing outside McCormick’s office. Took her twenty seconds to get inside, close the door behind them. His computer was off to their right, isolated on a smooth black desk. She didn’t talk, just sat down and switched it on.
Another scan of her files and she had the code, was digging through his files. What McCormick lacked in computing skills, he excelled in strategy. She knew he’d hide the information in other files. Highly encrypted. Not that it mattered. She just needed to copy them. She could worry about deciphering them, later.
Two minutes and she’d found the folder. Hidden with the personnel files. She took everything, copying it over to a thumb drive Kameron had given her. Count on the other woman to always carry a few around. Hell, Ellis had, too. But those clothes were long gone.
“Two minutes left, El. We need to move.”
“Ten more seconds.” She stood, hand hovering over the drive. “Done. I just hope it’s enough.”
“It’ll have to be, for now. Let’s go.”
She shut everything down, following him to the door—pausing to listen. Voices. Out in the hallway. Loud enough she caught a few words. Recognized the tone. She mouthed the name, McCormick, searching for somewhere to hide. Brett grabbed her, shoved her behind him as they hid behind the door. He had a Ka-bar in his right hand. M9 in his left. She knew he’d trained to shoot with both—was equally skilled with either hand.
She held her breath, pressing hard against the wall. The hollow echo of the security system sounded through the wall. The whirl of the retinal scan, the soft click of the door unlocking—opening slightly like it had for them. Cool air swirled around their feet, a disgruntled huff preceding the door swinging forcefully inward.
“I want that bitch found.” McCormick paused, one foot inside, the rest of him hidden. “Don’t give me excuses. You let her escape. Clean up your fucking mess.”
Half his body slid past the edge of the door. Halting as he listened to the other side of the conversation. Breath heavy.
“Sir.” A guard. Just outside. Which meant another target they’d have to deal with.
McCormick turned, disappeared from sight.
“There’s an issue downstairs. With one of the storage room doors.”
“Coming… And Wilcox. Don’t call, again, until you have something worth saying.” McCormick slammed shut the door, hollow footsteps fading down the hallway.
Ellis breathed out a shaky sigh, looking up at Brett. He had his ear pressed to the door, fingers around the handle. He held up his other hand, signaling her to hold for a second. Then, he was slivering it open, checking the hallways.
He waved his hand forward, and they were out. Racing down the corridor. Weapons out. They had one minute, maybe less. And not enough to get clear before the cameras were back. Not that it mattered. Once McCormick realized the storage room had been hacked, he’d put the entire place on lockdown, not just that room.
The elevator opened quickly. Just a curl of air and they were inside, heading for the main floor. A ping, then the doors slid apart, two armed guards standing beyond the threshold. They looked up—started lifting their rifles.
Brett was out. Kicking one guy’s knee as he grabbed the other’s weapon—used it to force him back. An elbow to the head knocked the soldier sideways. Kept him off-balance. Gave Brett the opening to hike him over his hip. Slam him into the floor.
His buddy stumbled sideways, grabbing at his knee as he tried to pivot toward the other men. But Ellis was already moving. Side of her hand to the man’s throat had him gasping, reeling backwards. A strike to his eyes snapped his head back, had him tilting toward the wall. A swipe of her foot and he was down. The taser she’d grabbed at his throat. Sending a few thousand volts of electricity through his body. It shook against the assault then stilled. She turned to toss it to Brett, but his opponent was already out. Bloodied face dripping onto the floor.
Brett straightened, grabbed her hand and took off running, again. The internal clock in her head told her they were out of time. That the cameras were back on. Probably panning that damn hallway, right now. Broadcasting the two men sprawled out on the floor.
As if on cue, a shrill siren broke the silence, dimming the lights. Casting the hallway into muted shadows. It didn’t slow them. Stop them from taking the next right, then left. Footsteps pounded the floor a few corridors over, shouts rising above the alarm.
They hit the rear door at a full sprint, using it to slow them down. Brett tried the handle. Damn thing didn’t even budge.
“Shit, do we need a code to get out?”
“Damn building is in lockdown. All the doors are magnetically sealed.”
“Fuck.” He aimed up the hallway. “Company in ten seconds or less, sweetheart.”
“That’s all I need.” She grabbed the EMP. “Tape?”
“Left rear pocket.”
She dug it out, secured the device to the door. “Stand back, so we don’t get any residual fallout.”
He grabbed her, shuffled them sideways as she hit the button. A small flash followed by a curl of smoke, and the door slid inward.
Bullets hit the metal, ricocheting past them. Brett cursed, grabbed a flashbang out of his vest and tossed it. She covered her ears, aware it would still affect her. That she wouldn’t be as protected as when they’d been on the roof. The canister clicked across the floor before the hallway erupted in a blast of light, sound and smoke.
Hands around her waist, hoisting her up. A shift sideways, then they were out. Brett running up the stairs and a
cross the open space. He had one hand locked around the back of her knees, the other holding his gun. He didn’t even slow as they hit the railing, vaulting smoothly over it then across the street. They reached the adjoining alley before the door to the facility opened, soldiers spilling into the stairwell.
Dusk blanketed the area, increasing the shadows lining the roads. Not quite dark, but not bright. That eerie gray that made everything look two dimensional.
Brett picked up his pace, weaving back the way they’d come, every footfall strong. Steady. He didn’t swing her to her feet until they’d reached the Jeep, unceremoniously shoving her in the passenger side before sliding across the hood Dukes of Hazard style and climbing in.
He had the engine revved and the tires squealing, billowing smoke around them as he peeled out, swerving across the road, narrowly missing a truck, then heading east. The Wrangler bounced along, tipping slightly as he threw it around a corner, pushing her back in her seat when he hit the gas.
Tires screeched behind them as two Suburbans appeared in the rearview. Big. Black. Slowly gaining. Brett took the next left, cutting off a minivan then swerving to make a tight right. Horns blared, brakes squealed, cars skidding to a halt to avoid a collision.
The maneuver bought them a few seconds. Increased the distance between them and the men in the SUVs. There was a moment of silence, then tires skidding, again, lights cutting through the darkness.
A large mall appeared off to their left, the multilevel garage black against the wash of streetlights. She pointed to it, and Brett turned, jumping over a sidewalk to avoid a red light then fishtailing into the right lane. He didn’t slow, bouncing them over a few speed bumps then into the structure. Half the spaces were open, a few people walking toward their cars. He took the ramp to the upper level, somehow avoiding another car traveling down without really slowing.
He was focused. Completely in the zone. A row of cars appeared on the right. One of them a Jeep. Similar color and vintage. Taillights braked in front of them as another Jeep slowly took the ramp to the next level. Brett hit the brakes, spun the Jeep right, stopping then quickly backing up between two pillars. He killed the engine, put his hand on her head, and took them both below the dash.
Engines hummed in the background, growing closer. A screech of tires, then the Suburbans were zooming past, closing in on the Jeep just disappearing around the corner. They hit the ramp hard, scraped against the concrete wall, spraying sparks across the lane, before continuing on.
Brett waited until they’d made the turn, then started the engine and took off, winding back the way they’d come. “Won’t buy us much time, but it might be enough to disappear.”
Ellis was already scanning through the nav—looking for somewhere suitable. “There’s a factory a few miles south. We should be able to hide in there.”
He nodded, pegging the revs in the red as he flew down the streets, taking every turn at the last possible second, keeping her stomach perched up in her throat. The scenery blurred past. One giant wash of black and gray, the occasional light streaking the window a pale yellow. He hit the entrance to the factory still going some insane speed, kicking up gravel as the pavement switched to dirt.
A couple of large dumpsters sat off to the left. He swung the Jeep around, drove past then wedged it in behind. Again, he cut the engine, pitching the cabin into complete darkness.
He had his gun in one hand the other already pushing on her head. “Stay down until I come back.”
She wanted to protest. Tell him they should go together, but he was gone. Door shut. Nothing but deafening silence. And the sound of her own breath. Fast. Shallow.
A few moments later, the door opened, and he got back in, the car dipping against his weight. “Just saw them barrel down the road, heading for the interstate. We’ll hold for another few minutes, then backtrack. Avoid possible crossover routes. Head for the safehouse.”
She straightened in the seat, glancing over at him. “They teach you that kind of driving in Delta Force?”
Just the hint of a smile. “Every Spec Op soldier gets advanced driver training. But I learned most of those moves from my dad when I was thirteen. Just before they caught his ass.” He glanced over at her. “He’d taught me how to pick locks. Hotwire cars. I thought he was the most badass father around. Until…”
She nodded. Reached for his hand. “I never knew my father. And all my mother taught me was how to avoid drunk and drugged-out assholes out on a rampage.” She met his gaze. Held it. “Thinking your lessons were more useful.”
He didn’t say anything, just watched her. Then, he sighed, started the car. “We’ll keep an eye out. Take the long way back, but… We’re out of time. McCormick’s going to hit us with everything he’s got after this stunt. And since you know him best, are hands down the smartest soldier in the lot of us, you’re our best bet at figuring out how to take him down.”
“And if I can’t? If there’s nothing here we can use against him?”
“We go with Plan B, and I kill the fucker. Then, we run. And we don’t ever stop because there’s no coming back from that without proof. And I won’t drag everyone else down.”
He pulled onto the gravel. “Buckle up. This might get rough.”
Chapter 19
Colt leaned against the wall, eyeing Cannon as the man’s face hardened. Grew a few shades darker. Since getting involved with Jericho, his buddy had lost some of his cold edge—wasn’t quite as skilled at hiding his emotions. Not that Colt needed the red cheeks or the hint of a frown to know Cannon was fuming. Had been since Colt and Ellis had stumbled through the door, well past dark. And Colt knew he’d had the look…
The one that screamed they’d had tangoes on their asses. That he was in prime soldier mode—strung tight. Adrenaline still coursing through his veins. His senses drinking in every sound. Every smell. Anything that might pose a threat. Shutting all that down…
It had been difficult when he’d been in Delta. Coming back from an op. Surrounded by men fighting with the same sensory overload. But looking over and seeing Ellis’ slightly pale skin—at the mild tremor in her hands that screamed she was riding the same razor’s edge he was—it jacked-up his protective instincts. Tinged his damn vision red. If she hadn’t grabbed that EMP. If he hadn’t trained for years how to overcome the effects of flashbangs. To operate on muscle memory while his brain was still scattered. Reeling from the light and noise. If they hadn’t been able to lose those two Suburbans…
Endless string of ‘ifs’ that would have left them both dead. Buried and forgotten. Or maybe weighed down at the bottom of the Pacific.
Cannon scrubbed his hand across his face, glancing over at Jericho in what looked like an effort to calm himself, before pinning his gaze on Colt. “Good thing we’re not still in Delta, buddy, because I would have busted your reckless ass down to private for pulling a stunt like that.”
So much for that calming effect.
Colt held his ground. “It’s not like McCormick’s going to give us information to take him down. We have to seize the moments that offer the best return for the risk.”
Cannon stared at him, mouth slightly open, eyes rounded before tipping back his head and laughing. “Best return for the risk? Christ, now I’m starting to think you were a CIA plant all this time.” He shook his head, glancing over at Ellis. “I gotta admit. I’m a bit disappointed I didn’t get to see you in action, Ellis. Did you seriously vault onto a guy’s shoulders and wrestle him to the ground?”
Ellis shrugged still focused on the screen. She’d been trying to break McCormick’s encryption since they’d arrived, despite the tension suffocating the room. “I’m not build like a damn tank like you gentlemen. And I don’t go into my ops armed for bear. So yeah, I get creative at times. Take advantage of the fact most men don’t see me as a threat—even the ones who know I’m an operative. That works to my advantage…” She looked up for a second. “Every. Damn. Time.”
“I just hope whatever�
��s on there was worth it. These kinds of transgressions have a tendency to force otherwise organized men into extreme action.”
She snorted. “Didn’t sound like he was far from switching tactics, anyway. Trying something rash to get me out in the open. Thinking we should have some ammunition before that happens.” She looked directly at him. “Something to trade if it comes to that.”
Other than me.
She didn’t say it, but it hung in the air, regardless.
Cannon glanced at Colt. Face grim at the underlying meaning. “Then, hurry up and crack that damn code, Baker.”
Ellis shook her head, tapping on the keyboard before inhaling. “Whoa. Got it.”
Colt moved over to her, giving the others room to see the screen. She was clicking open files—scrolling through strings of numbers and what looked like invoicing.
He palmed her shoulder. “Well? Was it worth nearly getting our asses capped?”
“Hell, yeah. He’s got manifests. Ledger sheets. Copies of which operative was assigned to each mission. What their stats showed. What he sent on to his contact inside the pentagon. Christ, this goes way up the chain, boys.”
“Does it say who?”
“McCormick’s not quite that giving. But, I’m sure someone could follow the breadcrumbs. Trace it back.” She looked up at Jericho. “I bet the Marshal Service has the resources for that.”
Jericho leaned over Ellis’ shoulder. “Damn straight we do.”
Bridgette cleared her throat, worming her way in beside Ellis. “Maybe you should let the lawyer take a look? I might not know what he’s trading, but after years in organized crime, I know my way around ledgers. Mafia or government, they all end up looking the same.”
Ellis waved at the laptop, sliding sideways as she stood. “I’ll leave you to it. I could use a break.”
Colt cupped her elbow, directed her toward the bedroom. “A shower, food, and some rest.”
Ellis smiled, then glanced back at the computer. The people gathered around it. And the smile faded. Left her looking lost. “The first two I won’t argue about. But we don’t have time—”