by Lora Leigh
With a quick jerk of the wheel he turned off onto one of the smaller side roads, before making a quick U-turn and pulling off beneath a canopy of trees.
He had checked as close as he could for bugs or bombs, but no one was perfect.
Seconds later, the dark sedan raced by, their lights sweeping within feet of the truck before continuing around the curve and along the main road.
He watched the lights disappear before hitting the gas, racing back toward Trina's. Once their assassins figured out had pulled off, he hoped they would check this side road before suspecting him and Morganna of heading back the way they had come.
"We're in a shitload of trouble, aren't we?" Morganna breathed out several minutes later as they raced past the road that led back to Trina's. "Yep." He flipped the lights back on, breathing a sigh of relief as the illumination of the darkened road made navigating the curves easier.
Trina would have to live in the backcountry rather than closer to town.
"Why? We haven't even made contact with the only suspect we have. Why make a move this fast?"
"It's a setup." He glanced over at her, his chest tightening at her narrow-eyed surveillance of the empty road behind them.
She was cool as hell. He wouldn't have suspected that a week ago. Her expression was composed, determined. Her eyes sharp and intelligent, suspicious, but not frightened.
"Why is it a setup, Clint?" She still gripped the little pistol close to her thigh, her fingers curved around it easily.
But hell, he was still gripping his. He laid it carefully on the seat beside him.
"Relax. I have a friend I can borrow a car and some clothes from. It's time to get the hell out of Dodge, Morganna."
"I'll ask again. Why?" He glimpsed her from the corner of his eye, staring back at him suspiciously.
"This isn't just about the operation you're working," he told her then. "Remember the operation where Reno was shot a year ago?"
"I remember he was shot." Of course she did. She had nearly lost her brother. All of them had lost a good friend.
"We went against a man named Diego Fuentes in Colombia. Two SEAL teams, mine and Reno's, along with a six-man Ranger team and two six-man teams of government soldiers. We went in to rescue the daughters of three senators who had been kidnapped and were being held in exchange for the safe passage of a shipment of drugs. We killed Fuentes' wife, his son, and his brother; we were told Fuentes went down with the house when it collapsed."
"He didn't?" She settled back in her chair as the truck raced to the outer edges of town. Thankfully, Trina wasn't too far from the social center she loved so much.
"Fuentes' scientist developed the date rape drug." Clint wiped his hand weakly over his face. "I would have joined Joe's team a year ago, if my CO hadn't held me back. The DEA was working to find the supplier, but another group was working to track the distributors of the videos as well as the lab creating the drug. And possibly Nathan. They were using Joe to keep the suppliers distracted from the other group's work."
She was silent. Clint grimaced. This wasn't a good thing. He flicked a look at her closed expression, grimacing at the glitter of anger in her eyes.
"I had no idea you were involved in this until it was too late," he growled. "No one suspected Fuentes was actually alive."
"And what makes you think he is?"
"Trina. She was part of Fuentes' network two years ago. and evidently still is," he snarled, wishing he could wring Trina's neck for not telling him sooner. "We have to switch vehicles, then find some place to hole up where Merino won't be able to track us. I don't trust him or his crew now. Morganna. I'll call in the rest of the team tonight. We'll take care of it."
"Convenient," she muttered. "Why didn't you do this sooner?"
"I can't save the fucking world," he snarled as he rubbed at his neck in frustration. "I do my little bit, Morganna. Me and Reno. That's the best we can do, and we have to be content with that. I agreed with the operation as it was being handled. That drug is too dangerous not to track it to its source. It has to be eliminated. Taking out a supplier in Atlanta isn't going to help the problem growing in New York, or on the West Coast. And it is growing. Find the root and you kill the vine."
"What about the women dying in the meantime?" she cried out, furious, the pain in her voice slicing through his chest.
"The alternative is worse, Morganna," he bit out. "If we just take out a few suppliers here and there, and miss the lab while it's in one place, controlled by one hand, then it goes worldwide. It will become as popular and easy to find as crack or pot. Is that better? How does that benefit the women who have already had their lives ruined or taken?"
"You could have told me," she protested furiously. "You could have worked with me when you came into this instead of hiding everything."
"I wanted you out," he bit out, the blood thundering through his veins. "For God's sake, do you think I wanted you mixed up in this any deeper than you were already?"
"Do you think you could have stopped it?" She raked her fingers through her hair, glaring at him as he looked over her, pulling to a stop as the light before him turned red.
His eyes flicked between the mirrors, checking traffic, watching for the sedan.
"I wanted to stop it," he growled. "I would have stopped it, if you hadn't been so damned stubborn."
"Dammit, Clint, you promised to work with me. This is information Joe needed. Information I needed."
"Joe doesn't need anything more than he has," Clint bit out. "There's a mole on that team, Morganna; admit it. I didn't give you the information because I thought the danger you faced was the damned dealers or suppliers, not the head viper."
Morganna breathed in roughly. "What do we do now?"
"We have to get to Macey's." Macey was one of the few men Clint knew could help him now. The hacker from hell. "We'll get another car and head to the mountains-"
"That won't help-"
"The hell it won't," he snapped, staring back at her, certain that the stakes in the game Diego was playing were much higher than he had ever imagined. "I won't let Fuentes have you, Morganna. He knows you were the one that witnessed those dealers' spiking that drink. He may even know who I am. I won't give him a chance to take you."
He'd hide her as far back in the mountains as he could get her and pray to God they could catch Diego before he found them. If Fuentes' network was back in place, then they could all be screwed. Royally.
"Raven's blocking my calls to Reno," he informed her tightly. "When we get to Macey's, call her; get Reno on the phone. They could be in danger as well. He needs to know what's going on now."
"God, Raven will kill both of us for ruining her honeymoon."
"She'll live. That's what's important," he snapped back. "When you get Reno on the phone, Morganna, I want to talk to him."
"Sure. Fine. Whatever." He heard the safety click on her gun before she opened her purse and stored it inside.
God. He couldn't believe this. Years, fucking years of fighting to protect her, only to have her in danger now because of him. Flashes of the videos taken in as evidence in the past two years that drug had been sifting through the party scene had his guts tying in knots.
The women were brutalized. The thought of Morganna being taken, drugged, hurt in such a way, was more than he could stand. His hands tightened on the steering wheel in a killing grip as he drove through the late-night traffic to the seedier side of town.
Macey wasn't anyone's idea of a good ole boy. A huge bruiser with a head for electronics like nothing Clint had ever seen and a fist that packed a hurting. Pulling his cell phone from its holder, Clint punched in the number.
"We're on leave." Macey's voice was warning.
"I'm in trouble," Clint said softly. "I have Reno's sister with me and we have some bad shit going down, Mace."
"How far away are you?"
"I'm five minutes from you. I need wheels and the ones I have need to show up in an area far, far from here.
"
"Hell of an order," he grunted. "Pull into the back; the garage doors will be open. We'll store your beauty there until we can round everything up."
Macey wasn't one to waste words. The line disconnected just as fast as he had answered.
"We have to warn Joe," she said as Clint pocketed the cell phone.
Clint sighed deeply. She was a friend to Merino, he understood that, but she wasn't hard enough, cold enough, to understand that a friend's knife would slash your throat faster than the enemies' would.
"Clint, we can't leave him in the dark," she pressed again.
"We can't risk it, Morganna." He shook his head firmly. I don't know who I can trust on that team, but I know one of them betrayed us. Only Joe's team knew where we were going to be ahead of time. Not even Trina knew we'd be showing up."
"It can't be Joe," she whispered. "Clint, he's lost friends in this assignment already. You haven't seen the effect it's had on him. Joe wouldn't do this."
She wasn't hard enough. God help him. And her.
"And he won't believe it was one of his team," he snapped back. "He trusts them, Morganna, just as I trust Reno. Use • our head here. We don't trust anyone. Macey understands the rules. I'll get what I need and then we're out of there. Period. He screws me and he won't live to spend whatever Fuentes might have tried to bribe him with. Macey won't screw himself like that. I can't say that about Merino or his men."
Chapter 19
She was too innocent for this. Too tender. He caught the flash of hurt that crossed her expression, the stillness of her slight body.
"I'll take care of you, Morganna." He ground the words between his teeth and looked over at her, reaching out to touch her, to cup her pale cheek. "But you have to trust me, baby. Trust me."
Clint pulled back as he neared the end of Macey's street He pulled into the alley behind Macey's less than pristine house, then turned into the small junkyard behind it.
The garage door was open as Macey had promised. Clint drove the truck into the dark interior, the heavy doors sliding closed behind him as the overhead lights lit up the area.
There was no way to reassure her. Not yet. He had to keep her alive. He had to keep his wits about him. If he touched her, God forbid if he weakened enough to hold her, then his control would be shot. And that neither one of them could afford.
MASON "MACEY" MARCH WAS HUGE. At least six feet, five inches and built like the broadside of a barn. There wasn't an inch of fat on his big body or trust in his chocolate brown eyes. Long, thick dark blond hair was pulled back from his face and tied in a ponytail, emphasizing the broad planes and angles of his face. He was what Reno would have called a force of nature. You didn't go up against it; you moved to the side until it passed by, and breathed a sigh of relief you weren't caught in the turbulence.
Macey was waiting for them at the doors at the side of the garage, dressed in a black sleeveless T-shirt and black jeans. Biker's boots covered his feet and a rifle was slung over one powerful arm.
"Trusting today, ain't you, Mace?" Clint commented as he helped Morganna from the truck, his hands flexing against her waist before he released her. "Only one gun as a greeting?"
The behemoth grunted, a rough sound that could have been a laugh.
"Get on in here." He stood back from the doorway. "I turned on the receiver after your call. You got some serious dudes searching for that pickup, boy."
"No shit," Clint sighed as he led her to the doorway. "Mace, this is Morganna, Reno's sister. Morganna, meet Macey; he's part of my team and the best damned computer whiz I've ever laid my eyes on."
Macey's full, surprisingly sensual lips quirked at the description.
"Glad to meet you, ma'am." He nodded as he turned and led the way into the house. "Reno's a good friend. He has a piss-poor brother-in-law, though. He should have shot him years ago."
"I suggested it," Morganna drawled, flicking Clint a laughing glance. "Reno wanted to wait. He was certain Clint would age well."
The chuckle that met her statement had Clint casting them both a brooding glare.
"Don't gang up on me with her, Mace. I'm stuck with her for a while. You're not."
"Too bad. I'd be nicer to her," Macey grunted.
The house was surprisingly neat but plain. Bare, actually. She stared around, wondering how a man as personable as Macey seemed to be had a house with nothing personal in it
"This is the reception area, darlin'." Macey's smile was wicked as he caught her staring around. "Come on; I'll show you my home away from home."
He led them through the threadbare living room with its floor-model, ages-old television, into a kitchen with the barest essentials and then into a hallway. There he pulled a remote from the back pocket of his jeans and flipped a switch. Morganna jumped back as a section of the wall slowly slid to the side.
"Come on down. I have the radios picking up transmissions now. I finally pinpointed the boys looking for you, but they aren't giving away anything important." He loped down the cement stairs that led from the hallway.
Morganna glanced back at Clint warily as she followed slowly, catching his soothing wink as the wall slid closed once again.
"What happens if the place catches on fire?" she whispered to Clint.
"Then we peel out under the house and escape through the sewer," Macey called back. "Nasty place, though, so I'm going to hope no one decides to burn me down. I'd get pissed and have to kill someone."
Somehow, she didn't think it was an idle threat.
As she stepped into the main portion of the basement, her eyes widened. Now this was definitely lived in and taken care of. A long, comfortable upholstered couch divided the room. In front of it, on a far wall, was a wide-screen flat television hung on the wall with a state-of-the-art sound system running along the walls. A scarred wooden coffee table sat between them. On each side, a recliner, used but in good condition, sat angled to the television.
Behind the couch, an electronic madman's dream: computers, receivers, and shelves of beeping, tweeping machines that made no sense to Morganna whatsoever. Above them, several flat monitors showed the outside of the house on all four sides, giving Macey a perfect view of anyone coming up on him. Two others flipped through the rooms of the house upstairs, keeping a careful watch on each area for several seconds at a time.
'There's beans and bread on the stove." Macey flicked his ringers to the corner where a stove, refrigerator, and large sink sat. A small table and chairs occupied the wall to the side of it.
"Hungry?" Clint's hand ran up and down her back as he led her farther into the room.
"No." She shook her head. "Will the cell phone call out here? I'll try to get hold of Raven. It takes her a while to answer sometimes."
"Yeah, she's good at avoiding calls. I think she stole Reno's cell phone."
"It was one of her conditions when she agreed to the wedding," Morganna told him. "She was tired of you calling and bitching about me and making Reno leave the house all the time."
"Hmm." The noncommittal murmur had her lips twitching. "Go ahead and see if you can get hold of her. I'll see what me and Macey can find out."
"Get her a drink at least, Clint," Macey muttered. "Hell, she looks wore out. There's beer in there, and Stacey keeps some wine coolers just to piss me off. There's lunchmeat and bread and junk. Stacey's always eating something. I swear when that girl's metabolism slows down, she's going to blow up like a balloon."
"Hey, it takes energy to keep up with brothers," Morganna informed Macey, keeping her voice playfully tart. "If she's anything like me, she gets tired of you having all the fun."
She was aware of the surprise that crossed his broad face, along with his amusement.
"Stacey would like her, Clint," he laughed. "She has mouth. I bet she keeps you and Reno on your toes."
"More than you know." Clint shook his head as Morganna glanced up at him knowingly.
"Kind of surprised me when I heard you were working with Merino's c
rew," Macey surprised her with the announcement as she moved away from Clint and headed for the refrigerator. "A few of our guys that frequent the clubs have been keeping watch. They say you're damned fine for an amateur."
"Thanks." She caught Clint's look of disapproval as she turned back to them. "Clint wasn't too happy."
"Course he wasn't," Macey drawled. "A man likes to keep his personal sweets stashed away from hungry eyes. He's not stupid. Me and the others were getting ready to draw straws on who was going to have to tell him about it, though."
"Shut up, Macey," Clint growled.
"Yeah, like all of us didn't know you were hungry for her, Clint." Macey smiled placidly as Morganna leaned against the wall and watched in interest. Not many people had the nerve to rib Clint so blatantly. "Did he tell you about him and Reno getting into that fight in Germany over you?"
"Shut up, Mace."
Now this was some surprising news.
"No." She arched her brow in interest. "He didn't."
"Oh yeah, kept us all watching those two real wary like. We were winding down after a mission-"
"Shut up, Macey."
"Seems Clint wanted Reno to do something about some musician you were seeing at the time. Wanted it stopped before you ended up in bed with him-"
"Don't make me kill you, Macey." Clint's voice was suddenly harder, darker. "I need you right now, man. But later, we might have to talk."
Macey tilted his head and stared back at Clint with a quirk of his lips, his dark eyes dancing.
"Sure, man." He smiled slowly. "Get your ass on over here. Let that pretty thing there get herself a drink. That skirt is hot as hell, too. You wearing panties under that, Morganna?" He turned back to her, his grin rakish.
"Actually," she drawled. "I'm not. But don't tell Clint, okay? He might get upset."
A shiver worked down her spine as Clint turned back to her, his gaze starkly possessive, his expression suddenly sensual, carnal.
"Get hold of Raven," he growled. "And stay away from the one-night wonder here." He nodded to Macey. "I'd hate to have to castrate him. Or cut his damned tongue out."