3
I scanned the parking lot of the run-down motel. The neon sign announcing vacancies was blinking sporadically. This did not look good for us. There were a few big rigs and mini-vans in the lot, but no way to tell which belonged to our contact.
“Let’s go check in, I guess. If he’s here, we need to let him know we are.” Opening my door, I grabbed my bag from the back seat and led the way into the office. The dingy windows blocked the view of the equally shabby lobby. A bell dinged when I opened the door, and a man of indeterminable age was behind the chipped Formica topped desk.
“Can I help yas?” The manager croaked in the voice of a heavy, long-time smoker.
“Yeah, we’ve got a reservation.” Phillips stepped up to the counter, playing the role of the boyfriend or husband.
“Name?” Flipping open a book, the man held a pen at the ready. No fancy computer systems here.
“Phillip and Mikayla Robins.”
“Paid in advance, I see. Here’s your key. Room seven. End of the line.” Sliding an honest to goodness key across the desk, he turned his back on us and went behind a curtain.
“Real welcoming fellow we’ve got here.” Gingerly picking up the dirty key by the red tag, I led the way out of the office. “I’ll check the room if you wanna bring the car down?”
With a nod, Phillips got in the sedan. I strode down the concrete walkway, swatting at bugs drawn in by the yellow security lights at each door. Moths large enough to carry away a small child flew around my head. It’s just a bug . . . keep walking . . . if you scream like a bitch you’ll never live it down.
I reached room number 7 and unlocked the door as quickly as I was able. A musty, hot smell wafted out. “Fuck . . . this place needs fumigating. Whoever booked us here is gonna get their ass kicked.”
“Good luck with that, luv.”
I spun toward the voice and drew my concealed sidearm in one motion. A somewhat skinny and completely nonchalant black man was standing in the doorway of the adjoining room next door.
“Who the ever loving hell are you?” Advancing, I kept my weapon trained on his center mass, ready to blow a hole through him at any second. His hands were tucked in the pockets of dress slacks, an old-fashioned vest unbuttoned over a slate grey business shirt. He dressed too damn sharp to be your average neighborhood gangbanger.
“What, Sawyer didn’t show ya my picture?”
Now that my adrenaline was calming, I took notice of his thick English accent.
“I take it you’re Liam then?”
“Yeah, and you must be Mic. Sawyer and Jackson did tell me you’d probably pull a gun on me. You Americans, so ready to shoot first.”
“Yeah, me and Han Solo.” I tucked the M9 back in its holster and extended my hand for him to shake just as the door was opening behind me.
Phillips dropped our bags and closed the door behind him. “Making friends already, eh?”
“You must be Phillips.” Liam stepped fully into the room, making the already small space, that much smaller.
“Who else would I be?” he gruffly replied.
“All right then. We wait here until Carter calls with instructions. Could be in ten minutes, could be ten hours. No idea, mates.”
The red digital display on the cheap bedside alarm read 2:00 a.m. and we couldn’t sleep. The hotel room was small and tastefully decorated—if you liked pink in every shade. Even the fucking polyester drapes were a sickening shade of Pepto-pink. The window was open against the stifling heat. Open for this window meant a mere three inches. It was the first of October, which in South Dakota may as well mean early winter, cold enough to have the heat on. Unfortunately for us, it was stuck on high and no amount of pounding and begging would shut it the fuck off. Calls to the front desk went unanswered at that hour.
Sweat ran down my temple, soaking my hair further. I was stripped down to a tank top and shorts, Liam and Phillips, in similar stages of undress, were in just shorts. Lucky for them they didn’t have to wear a bra and top, giving stickiness a great place to gather.
“When is he going to call? I can’t take this much longer.” Phillips draped a cold, soaking wet towel around his shoulders, water running down his back in tiny rivulets. If he weren’t my team member I would have taken more notice of how tasty his skin looked when wet.
“He’ll call when he calls,” Liam said from the bathroom behind me. He was running cold water into the ice filled sink, preparing to soak his own small towel in it.
I sat on the floor near the heater, ignoring the blast of hot air hitting me in the face. This fucking thing was about to die. I’d had enough. “Phillips, you got a multi-tool?”
“Sure, hang on.” Rooting through his pants, which were neatly folded on the chair, he pulled it from its holder and handed it me. “What’s your plan?”
Looking closely at the screws holding the cover on, I flipped out the flat-head screwdriver and got to work taking the cover off. “This thing is wired in or something, I’m going to try and break the fucker.” The cover came off easily, I dropped it quickly, sucking on my burned fingers.
Dust and dirt blew out into the room in a disgusting cloud. “Holy fuck, can you say fire hazard?” Phillips waved a hand in front of his face.
“Get me a wet towel.” I was trying and failing to see the wiring setup inside. It was so caked in dust I couldn’t make sense of it.
“Here.” Phillips and Liam each handed me theirs. I stuffed one into the vent, temporarily stopping the hot air. I used the other to wipe out the inside of the heater.
“I feel sort of superfluous. Aren’t men supposed to be the handy ones?” Liam spoke from behind me.
“Dude, shut the fuck up.” I wiped sweat and dirt from my face and finally located the thermostat inside the guts of the archaic heater. The bubble was stuck, keeping the heat turned on all the time. Switching the screwdriver for wire cutters, I cut the lead going from the thermostat to the motor. The whirring stopped instantly. Just like a car.
“Thank Christ. Mic, you’re a genius.”
“Duh, tell me something I don’t know, Sergeant.” Standing up and wiping my filthy hands on the towel I tossed it on the growing pile near the door. “I fixed it, which means I get the first cold shower.” Handing Phillips back his multi-tool, I grabbed clean clothes from my bag.
“No argument here. I feel like a fucking idiot that I didn’t think of that three hours ago.”
“It’s because women have better brains than men, yours was mostly cooked, but I had reserves.” Smirking I shut the bathroom door and peeled off my disgusting clothes.
Carter climbed into the passenger seat of the box truck as Strauss took the driver’s seat and started the engine. They were leading the first convoy heading to South Dakota. Two others were taking different routes. Following the box truck would be an old school bus filled with recruits, a few vans, and a tractor trailer hauling the ingredients for a nitrate bomb. Separate they were stable, but combine them together and it would be Oklahoma City all over again.
The other convoys were more of the same, plus a large cache of illegally obtained firearms. Those had been at the compound before Carter had worked his way undercover and so far he had no leads for ATF to figure out where the military grade guns had come from. They might never know, and right now it was a loose end Carter needed to leave hanging.
“So what’s the name of this town we’re headed to, again?” he asked as he settled in for the long trip.
Strauss steered them out of the compound, glancing in the side view mirrors to make sure the others were following. “Clarksville. Tiny, little shit town, just like Westcliffe.”
“Never heard of it. I wonder if it’s anywhere near Aberdeen.” Carter put his sunglasses on and waited for the man to ask “why?”
“Why’s that?”
These assholes never disappointed him. “Passed through there about a year ago and met this hot thing named Mikayla. Ooh-wee! That girl fucking rocked my world. She could
blow me for an hour without getting lockjaw.”
Strauss roared out a laugh. It was the first time Carter had seen him relax. Maybe he should have brought up some tail before this. “Damn, dude! It’s been forever since I’ve had a chick like that. None of the pussy around here is worth more than a five-minute dip.”
There was no way Carter was touching any of the pussy from the camp—he didn’t want or need sex bad enough to risk getting crabs or the clap. “Oh, she’s definitely worth a lot more than that. I wonder if she’s still up in Aberdeen. Her brother’s a cool dude, too. A little bit psychotic, though. Couldn’t get past the exams for the military so he went into private security, which is scary.”
“Really? Why?”
Carter shrugged. “That boy’s got a hair trigger. Surprised he’s not in the hole somewhere doing life.”
“Huh.” Strauss merged onto the interstate headed north. Their little convoy followed. “Think he’d be interested in signing up?”
Eyeing the other man like the thought hadn’t crossed his mind, Carter said, “I don’t know. Hell, it’s been a year since I’ve seen him. I don’t know if he’s in the hole or six feet under.”
“Call him. Or call his sister. I wouldn’t mind giving her a ride. Clarksville’s about an hour from Aberdeen.”
“Seriously?” Carter shook his head. “Maybe I should wait until I meet the general. I wouldn’t want to piss him off by inviting someone he doesn’t know.”
“Fuck that shit. General Wexler trusts my judgement. You’ve been a good addition to the New Order. You keep these fuckheads in line. If you think this guy’s got what it takes, call him. I’ll okay it with the general. You still got her number?”
Carter leered and grabbed his crotch. “Oh yeah. There was no way I was losing that honey’s phone number.”
As Strauss laughed, Carter pulled out his cell phone and scrolled through the contacts. Most of them were to the Deimos call center where they had a list of all the people “Tim” Carter knew. If anyone called any of the numbers with varying area codes in his phone, they’d end up talking to one of “Tim’s” friends and contacts around the country. Some would say he owed them money, but others would want to know when he was coming back to party with them. A few were “former employers” of cash-under-the-table jobs. He found the one listed as Mikayla Robbins. It had been programmed in before he’d embedded himself into the New Order.
He pushed send and waited for Mic to pick it up. She should already be in South Dakota with Phillips and the rest of the team. Liam had taken off for the northern state as soon as Carter had given him the name of the town they were headed for.
The call connected. “Hello?”
“Hey, sweetheart,” he crooned. “Remember me?”
He could imagine her fighting the urge to yell at him for the endearment. “Carter? Is that you?”
“It’s me, babe. I’m going to be coming through your area in a day or two. Was wondering if we could hook up. I missed you.” He looked at Strauss and laughed silently which had the other man grinning. Just a guy, laying it on thick to get some tail.
“I don’t hear from you for a year, and all of a sudden you find my number again and expect me to be at your beck and call. Fuck you, Carter.” She was doing well. They had no idea if anyone had tapped his phone or if there was a device in the truck that could intercept the cell signal.
“Aw, sweetheart, don’t be like that. You know you missed me. We had some good times together.”
“And then you left. Why are you in Aberdeen?” She was starting to sound interested in seeing him again. He hoped she was this convincing in person.
“Well, I’m not there yet, but I’ve hooked up with a good deal. Thought maybe Phil would want to get in on it, and then you and I could get reacquainted. Is your brother still around?”
“Yeah, he’s still in town. What deal?”
She knew he wasn’t going to tell her. That wasn’t part of the plan. She was a chick, and chicks were low on the New Order totem pole. “Tell your brother to give me a call. I’ll fill him in. In the meantime, why don’t you go out and find something black and lacy to wear, and get that pussy waxed for me?”
There was the slightest of pauses and he knew there was a blush on her face and steam coming from her ears. Yeah, she was going to ream him the first chance she got. “As long as you get some little, blue pills, babe. I remember the last time we were together you had a hard time keeping it up.”
He bit back a bark of laughter. Shit, she was going to be fun to work with. “Don’t you worry about that, sweetheart. Carter’s going to take really good care of you. I’ll see you in a few days. Tell your brother to call me. All right?”
“Yeah, all right. See you soon.”
Carter said goodbye and disconnected the call. He grinned at Strauss whose eyebrows were raised. “Drive fast, dude. I’m getting laid as soon as we get there.”
4
Following Carter’s directions, Phillips downshifted the beat-up Chevy pickup that Liam had provided. The damn thing was mostly rust—how it was even running, I had no idea. We turned onto a dirt road that cut through some trees. Up ahead there were some blind turns—very appropriate.
“Stay cool,” I prompted my teammate. “We’re going to be stopped at some point. And remember, I’m Mikayla Robins and you’re Phillip Robins, my half brother. We’re from Aberdeen. We share a father.” I recited the backstories we’d been given from memory.
“I got it, Mic.” Phillips was exasperated at the reminder. “Don’t forget, I’m a SEAL, this is a cakewalk for me. Don’t take your nerves out on me.”
“Copy that.” I hated even thinking about admitting I was nervous. Give me a weapon and some tangos to kill and I’m happy. This undercover, subterfuge shit is new. If I fucked up, we were all dead and the mission was a failure. More than just my life was riding on my ability to keep my shit together.
The truck bumped further down the road, making another blind turn. Phillips slammed on the brakes, and the truck stuttered then stalled. There was a metal gate blocking the road but that wasn’t the problem—four heavily armed men guarding it were. Armed with what looked like M16s and M4s, they had their rifles trained on the cab of the truck. Phillips’s knuckles were white on the wheel, and I kept my hands on the dash.
“You! You have no business here. Turn around or be shot!” One of the guards shouted, advancing on the truck.
“Keep your mouth shut. They won’t like a woman questioning them.” Phillips hissed.
The guard was at Phillips’s window, motioning for him to roll it down.
“I told you, turn the fuck around, boy.” The man was grey-haired and soft around the middle, but the unwavering barrel of his rifle didn’t care about that.
“We were told to come here. Lieutenant Carter invited us. We’re expected, sir.” Phillips forced respect into his voice when I knew very well he wanted to feed that twat his weapon.
“Were ya now? I’m gonna call on up to verify that, and if you’re lying, consider yourself dead.”
“Yes, sir.”
The man trotted away, grabbing a handheld radio from the guard closest to the gate. We couldn’t hear his words, but his entire expression and body language changed as Carter sauntered to the gate.
“Is that him?” Phillips whispered.
“Yeah, that’s T. Carter. Don’t ask what the T really stands for, I have no fucking idea.”
Waving at the gate, the undercover spy motioned for us to get out of the truck. Opening my door with a squeal of rusted metal, I jumped down. My black boots made prints in the soft, dry dirt. I strode towards the gate where Carter stood. My stomach was flipping with nerves, but outwardly I was calm, which is all that mattered anyways.
“Search their truck.” The head guard ordered.
“That’s not necessary. They’re with me, I vouched for them.” Carter’s voice was icy and firm. His rigid posture showing his superiority as easily as his commanding tone.
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“Sorry, sir, no exceptions.” Two of the guards took the cab, while the third checked the truck bed. Finding it empty, he slid underneath. What he expected to find I had no idea.
“This is ridiculous.” I snapped.
“Shut your mouth, Mikayla.” Carter snaked a hand around my waist and jerked me against his chest. I saw the intent in his sky-blue eyes. I opened my mouth to say no, but it was too late. His lips pressed against my own, warm and soft. He tasted fruity, like he’d been drinking something sweet. His tongue slipped past my lips and I clamped down on it with my teeth. His hands gripped my waist tighter, his fingers digging into my flesh as a warning.
I released his tongue and waited for him to move back—to break the kiss first. Holding the embrace a few moments longer, he finally let me go.
“It’s so nice to see you again, little one.”
“That was quite the welcome. I can’t wait to do it again.” I winked at him, earning a glare in response.
“I’m sure.” Keeping his arm around my waist, he reached out his other hand toward Phillips. “Good to see you, brother.”
Shaking his hand, Phillips gruffly responded, “Good to see you too, buddy.”
“The truck is clean,” one of the minions reported. “Well, not clean, its dirty as fuck, but no wires, bombs, or any other nasty shit they aren’t allowed to have.”
“Told ya so.” I said, mocking the head guard.
“Mikayla, keep your snarky mouth in check, or I’ll do it for you. He’s following orders.”
“Yeah, whatever. Can we go now?” I was pouring the bitch on pretty heavily, I’d have to remember to ask Carter if I needed to tone it down a bit.
“Yeah, get in. I’ll drive you up.”
Stuffing the three of us in the cab of that truck was a feat in and of itself. I should have just sat on someone’s lap. As it was, I had the shifter between my legs. When Carter changed gears, the back of his hand bumped between my legs. I glared at him, and he just shrugged and winked. As he shifted into second and bumped against my crotch again, I took this as his revenge for biting his tongue. Bastard.
No Way in Hell: A Steel Corp/Trident Security Crossover Novel (Steel Corps/Trident Security Book 2) Page 3