by Kris Norris
A couple of men broke off from the pack—tried to flank around front, but either Kam or Six picked them off. Nothing but a crumpled body and bloody mist left strewn across the pavement.
That leveled the field a bit more. Chucking a frag through the broken window got Colt even closer. Took out three men trying to breach the room. Also got him some heavy return fire. A stray round caught him across the thigh. Not too deep, but the damn thing burned. Started dripping onto the floor. He laid down a spray of cover fire, then darted back to Ice, pressing his back into the doorframe.
Ice grunted, glaring at his leg. Colt waved it off, holding up a flashbang. Ice gave him a hard look but nodded, readying himself to make the dash. Colt didn’t need to read him the play. Ice knew. Had executed similar plans a thousand times before.
Colt waited for the next wave of bullets to pause, then dove forward, rolling into his position by the door. He blew through the last of his ammo in that clip, changed magazines then pulled the pin—tossing the container into the other room. There was a clinking noise as it bounced along the floor, then a deafening explosion shrouded in a blinding light.
Ice ran for the door, clearing both sides, then hoofing it toward the crane, Six and Kam raining down a steady stream of bullets. Colt kept the men in the room back with more cover fire. The grenade had bought them some time, but he knew McCormick’s men would recover quickly.
Colt managed to scoot back, gain his feet and grasp the door when a one of the men tossed a grenade into the room. It landed a few feet away, still spinning from momentum. Colt yanked open the door and dove, hitting the ground as the grenade exploded, tearing off half the roof and part of the side. Metal pieces shot into the air, a couple slicing through his clothes—one large section landing across his legs.
A loud ringing filled his head, the force of the explosion knocking the wind out of him. Leaving him dazed. He pushed onto his elbows, trying to get his bearings only to realize the damn sheet had him pinned to the pavement. Shouts rose from inside the warehouse, and he knew the soldiers would be charging out the door.
He twisted, tried to shove the damn sheet off, only to have Ice appear at his side. The man lifted the metal, yelling at him to move, before dropping it. There was a burst of fire from Ice’s rifle, holding the others back as they ran for the crane. Jumping behind the thick metal struts. Barely beating the next wave of bullets.
Kam had Ellis’ head cradled in her lap as Six continued to pick off anyone who left the warehouse. Engines roared in the distance, three black Suburbans rounding the far bend—heading their way. More of McCormick’s men, which only made a bad situation worse.
Colt kept up the suppression fire, trying to hold the vehicles back. “Get into the water. I’ll cover. Toss a bunch of grenades and dive in after you’re clear.”
“And get an ass full of lead.” Six cursed, switched to his Sig. “I’ll cover. You go.”
Colt knew what Six was doing. He didn’t have anyone he’d label as special. Didn’t have any other family besides them. His brothers. And he was aiming to make the sacrifice. Give Colt a second chance to make things right.
Fuck that. He was the reason they were here. He’d told Ellis Delta didn’t trade lives. And he’d meant it.
He waved to Ice. “Take Kam and Ellis. We’ll follow.”
Ice was emptying his mags—tossing out whatever grenades he had left in his arsenal. “Forget it, buddy. We’ll throw out all the smoke grenades. Then make a run.”
Colt snorted. “I hope you don’t get your ass shot off, Ice, because I want to shoot you, myself.”
He grabbed two canisters, knowing it wasn’t going to be enough, but damn it, they’d go down fighting. He looked at his friends—his brothers—then nodded, counting down from three. He reached one, when a section of the pier off to his left exploded. Just lit up, shooting chunks of concrete and asphalt into the air.
Another hit on the other side, sending everyone scrambling for cover. Colt blanketed the area with another burst of fire, tossed the two grenades, then he was up. Joining his buddies as they raced for the edge. No slipping gently into the water. Just a giant leap, a second of hang time, then they were under. Cold waves covering their heads.
He crested the surface, first, gun at the ready, covering his team as they swam for the other end of the pier, Ice carrying Ellis without slowing down. It didn’t take long. A minute, and they were climbing up, clearing the space. Colt waved them on, maintaining a buffer between the others and anything coming at them. There had been a couple more explosions, all on the pier, with black smoke rolling through the containers—blanketing the entire wharf in a thick dense layer. Had to be the Marshal’s predator drone. Nothing else made sense.
Tires squealed off to his right. Close. But the damn smoke swallowed up any hope of getting a visual. Made his eyes water as he searched for a hint of movement. A low whistle from behind. Six. They were clear.
Colt turned, headed back, when headlights cut through the haze—barreling straight for him. He dove, rolled, came up ready. One of the Suburbans sat a few feet away, three of McCormick’s men standing behind the doors. AKs pinned on him. Fingers inside the guard. A couple more were facing the other way. Checking for the rest of Colt’s team.
He held firm, not firing, but not backing down, either. His vest would stop a couple of bullets. He’d probably get hit half a dozen times before it was over—three or four too many.
McCormick rounded the vehicle, calm. Completely detached. He didn’t have a weapon drawn. Just stood there. Watching. Colt vowed to take the fucker down with him. If nothing else, Ellis wouldn’t have to look over her shoulder. That should be enough. It would have to be.
McCormick chuckled—shook his head. “Looks like I made a bad judgment call five years, ago. I should have enlisted you, too, Sievers. You and Baker could have made quite the team. That rescue was very impressive.”
Colt kept scanning the area, looking for an opening. “You don’t sound too upset for someone who’s lost most of his assets.”
“Rule number one about having subordinates. Keep the ones you trust close. Everyone else… You actually did me a favor. Cleaned up a mess I thought I’d have to handle myself. Now, there’s just Baker. And if she was willing to trade herself for that bitch, she’ll do anything for you.”
McCormick sighed. “She never did get over that. I suspected she might end up being a mistake. But, damn…the woman’s one hell of an operative.” He waved at the back door. “Get in.”
“I don’t think so.”
“Let me rephrase it. Get in, or I’ll see that Ellis spends a very long time tied to a bed.”
“I’ll bet on my team that she doesn’t.”
“Your team? Would that be the one that just scrambled through the fence?” He held up his phone, a red dot centered on the screen. “Two can play the tracker game, Sievers. Though, I didn’t realize she had a second one until shit went sideways. Thought I was being proactive tagging her—just in case. Like I said. She’s one hell of an operative. Get. In.”
Shit. Even if his buddies scanned her, she still had the one she’d swallowed. They wouldn’t know there was a second unit until it was too late. But getting in wasn’t an option. Not when they’d use him to hurt her.
McCormick’s grin faded. “I’ll give you one more chance. Get in, and I might just keep you both alive. Exploit her skills for a while longer. Or, I can just drop a missile on whatever safehouse they’re hiding out in. You’re not the only one with a drone, either.”
One shot. That’s all Colt had. Peg McCormick between his beady little eyes. End it.
Damn, he hated when shit went sideways.
He eased up a bit. A few seconds and they’d relax, too. Not a lot. Just enough to get off that one shot. Everyone stayed primed. Alert. Then, there…a slight dip in the muzzles. Just a few more inches…
Lights. Blinking all around them. Reflecting of the smoke—giving it an almost hallowed glow. Footsteps. Everywhere. R
acing toward them, then Marshals swarming the vehicle—armed to the teeth. Cars rolling in on all sides. Art talking through a loud speaker.
A helicopter rose up from the pier. Just appeared above the water out of the smoke. Huge spotlight shining down. Like a giant bullseye around the Suburban. Colt raised his hands—didn’t resist when a couple of marshals shoved him to the ground, holding him in place with their knees. The pavement bit into his palms, chilling his already icy skin. The position more than a bit uncomfortable.
Took a minute for Art to finally make his way over— clear him. The man nodded, then struck off, barking out orders. Colt scrambled to his feet, then took off running, Heading for the fence. Fuck, if McCormick had sent a team to intercept Six and the others…
He ran flat out, vaulting over whatever got in his way. He hit the fence still sprinting—dove through the opening then straight to his feet. Gravel crunched beneath his boots, more smoke and dust clogging the air. Two rights and a left. Down a small alley. The Jeep should be off to his left.
He stopped at the corner, pressing into the wall. Already working through what he’d do if his team was surrounded. A deep breath, then he was stepping out. Muzzle sweeping the lot, finger ready to pull…
Cannon arched a brow as he leaned against Jericho’s Jeep. Arms crossed. “Was it something I said?”
“Christ.” Colt blew out a rough breath, lowering the weapon. “I thought McCormick sent a fucking wet squad to take everyone out. He put a tracker on Ellis.”
Cannon grinned. “The bastard tried. It didn’t work out too well for them.” He straightened. “You done trying to sacrifice yourself, now? Someone’s asking for you.”
Colt flipped off his buddy, darting over to the Jeep. Ice had Ellis sitting sideways on the seat, blanket wrapped around her, flashing a light in her eyes. Colt stopped behind the other man and just stared at her. Drank in every detail. The tangled mass of brown hair. Her half-lidded eyes. The hint of blue around her lips. She looked lucky to be alive. And he’d never seen a more beautiful sight in his life.
Ice glanced at him over his shoulder, then stood. “I used to wonder what she saw in you. But it’s obvious. You’re both just nuts.” He let Colt move in front, kneel down to Ellis’ level. “I want her back at the loft and on twenty-four-hour watch until I’m confident that drug isn’t causing any residual effects. I’ll have Brady on stand-by, too. Between Ellis and Six, I’m going to owe the man a couple of bottles of Glenfiddich.”
“Bill me.” He cupped Ellis’ jaw, running his thumb along her cheek. “Hey, beautiful.”
She smiled and everything fell into place. “Hey.” She blinked a few times. Groaned. “Do me a favor?”
“Anything.”
“Once I can move without tripping over my own feet, remind me to kick your ass.” Tears welled behind her eyes. Leaked over her lashes. “When you didn’t follow, Six went back. If he hadn’t run into the marshal’s SOG team, saw they had those bastards in their sights the whole time…” Took her a few tries, but she managed to palm his jaw. “You were going to kill him, even though you knew you wouldn’t walk away.”
“I promised you he’d never hurt you, again. I don’t go back on my promises. Couldn’t.”
Her gaze softened, a few more tears spilling out. “I stand corrected, again. I don’t just like this new version of you—I love it.”
“Hell, yeah, you do. Though, I have to be honest. I’m still on the fence about this new Ellis.” He winked at her, knowing it would get a rise out of her. “She’s scary.”
“She’s going to pop you in the face, right now, if you don’t tell her you love her, too.”
He smiled, leaning in close. “I guess that depends?”
An arch of her brow. “Really? On what?”
“On whether it’ll get you to say, I do.”
She smiled, and it was like a freaking arrow straight to his heart. “That’s a deal I can make. But I’ll only give you the next…sixty years to get it right.”
“You do drive a hard bargain, sweetheart. Come on, let’s get you home. You heard Ice. You need to spend the next twenty-four hours in bed with me.”
“Pretty sure he didn’t say that, but…I’ll love the way you think.”
Chapter 24
“You’re crazy. You know that?”
Ellis smiled at Brett. Damn the man looked handsome. Jeans, tee, sweater. A healthy dose of scruff. He was leaning against the doorframe, Arms crossed. Muscles rippling. Stretching against the cotton. Making her want to slide on over and taste all the smooth, skin. Feel that steel grip enfold her.
She dabbed a bit more concealer over the bruises and the red around the lacerations, not that it seemed to help. “About you? Definitely.”
“I meant in a more general way. Though, you’ve got a concussion so…”
“Slight concussion. Nothing serious. Besides, you rattle my brains more than that floor did.”
“I’m not sure if that’s a compliment or a medical crisis in the making.”
She smiled, gave up trying to hide the marks, and moved over to him, tracing the outline of his shoulders, then joining her hands behind his neck—the big jerk didn’t even uncross his arms. “Well, you do increase my blood pressure. Make my heart pound. See double, so…maybe we should have Ice on some kind of retainer.”
“Trust me, he isn’t straying far for a few days. Strange, he doesn’t trust you to follow his instructions. Can’t imagine why.”
“He’s a worrier.”
“I believe the word you’re looking for is realist.”
“Yeah. A real worrier. Are you ready?”
“You’re serious? You only just really woke up a few hours, ago, and yet you want to sit in a vehicle for seventeen hours?”
“Only if you’re driving. I can make Vegas in under fifteen.”
“Is that before or after you drive us into the back of a tractor-trailer? You’re not driving.”
“Fine. Then, we’ll just make out in the back. Let Six or one of the others drive.”
She pressed against him, waiting to see how long he’d hold out. He made it exactly five more seconds before finally wrapping his arms around her. And yes, all that hard, strong grip holding her tight. Making her feel safe. Loved.
“I’d like to keep the man as my friend. Not give him a reason to want to stab me in my sleep.” He furrowed that amazing brow, looking incredibly sexy and serious. “Don’t you want to wait? Have some big party with a fifteen-tier cake and a gazillion flowers?”
“I’ve always been more of a pie kinda girl.”
“Which is also insane. Nothing beats cake, sweetheart.”
“We can agree to disagree on that one. I also don’t care about flowers. Or music. Or finding some perfect venue. All I need is right here in my arms.”
That earned her one of his killer smiles. The one with crinkling eyes and a hint of a dimple. “You really don’t fight fair.”
“This isn’t about fair. This is about not letting another second go by without having some kind of legal tether around you.”
“I’m not going anywhere. Never, again. Promise.”
“No one can guarantee the future, baby. Which means I intend to take advantage of every moment. And I want all of those with you.” She wiggled a bit, grinned at how he inhaled. At the hard ridge pressing against her stomach. “Are you trying to tell me you’ve changed your mind?”
“Fuck, no. I would have married you on that damn pier if we’d had someone to officiate. I just…”
She brushed back the golden strands from around his eyes, knowing she could stare into them—stay just like this—for the next sixty years. “Just what?”
“I want this to be perfect. A day you’ll remember. Make up for all those lost years.”
“You do know that sooner or later, you’re going to have to forgive yourself, right?”
“I let you down.”
“And you’ve saved my life ten-fold, since. Try thinking of it as a five-ye
ar engagement. Spent OCONUS.”
His eyes widened, then he laughed. A rich full one that made her smile more. “Only you would think of all that time as an engagement outside the continuous United States, sweetheart. Okay. I’ll work on the forgiveness. Now about the wedding. You really don’t want a big one? Here?”
“And give up getting hitched by Elvis? Now, who’s the crazy one. Ice said he knows just the place.”
“I don’t have a tux. You don’t have a dress. And we need rings—”
“I thought you Delta guys were all about adapting?” She laughed at the attempted death glare he gave her. It wasn’t even close. “We can hit up a jewelry store there. I’m sure we’ll find something. If not, you can get me a ring pop as a stand-in. But I expect blue raspberry. Not just cherry. And we can go to one of those chapels that have costumes. I’m thinking you. Chain mail…”
“I’ll consider the chain mail, but blue raspberry? It’s strawberry or nothing.”
“Fine. Strawberry. I also thought we might make it a double wedding. Get Cannon and Jericho to join us.”
“Get Cannon and Jericho to do what with you?”
She jumped at Cannon’s voice, glaring at the man over Brett’s shoulder. “Christ, Cannon. I would have drawn my damn gun if I wasn’t holding onto Brett. All you guys need to start making some noise while inside.”
Jericho swatted the man in the chest. “See? I’m not the only one who thinks that.”
Cannon smiled, dipped down to give her a kiss. “I’ll try harder. And after all we’ve seen and heard, I think Ellis is the one we should be afraid of. All those spooky skills of hers.”
Ellis snorted. “Are you ever going to get tired of using spooky whenever you can fit it in?”
“Nope.”