by Amy McKinley
With hand signals, Chris motioned for her to move to the back left. They suspected Juan Carlos’s private wing was located there. What better place for a built-in escape route?
Smoke billowed around them, making the gas masks a godsend. Even so, fighting in that kind of soup wasn’t easy. Several of the canisters had already emptied, and the thick fog took some time to dissipate.
They waded through with care. Though still in the air, the tear gas had lessened and became easier to see in. On his right, Mari shot off a few rounds, laying waste to the three men that’d rounded the corner. With his heart in his throat for her, he forced himself to concentrate on clearing the next passage.
Bullets flew around them. He grunted, taking the brunt in his bulletproof vest. Even with the protection, the hits stung, promising a colorful display of bruises when they finally got out of this hellhole.
Knives whipped past the side of his face, finding their intended targets’ necks in their path. With a tug, Chris pulled the pin on a grenade and tossed it around the corner. As he covered Mari, they raced back a ways and huddled against the opposite wall, his body shielding hers. The blast shook them. Debris exploded several feet away. Not wasting any time, they took off in a run, guns extended, and raced to where the blast occurred. Bodies lay strewn about the destroyed hallway in a horrific display.
Their destination loomed like a beacon at the end of the demolished wing. They passed several open bedrooms, their doors and walls shredded, exposing them to view. The last bedroom in the hallway was their target, and it was unmistakable, with the gold-inlaid paneling and heavy brocade.
It was empty of people.
But there wouldn’t be as many cartel members guarding it if there hadn’t been occupants. Stepping over what used to be the threshold, Chris went to the closet while Mari lifted the paintings from the wall and tossed them to the ground. Shoving clothes aside, Chris checked the back walls, the ceiling, and the floor for a secret passage. There wasn’t anything.
He met up with Mari in the enormous, spa-like, gold-and-marble bathroom. She looked inside the cabinets and under the sinks, while he turned to the linen closet. Something about the depth nagged at him, and he ran his fingers along the sides, the shelving, and the trim, until he found a small depression. Pressing on it, he stepped back as the interior released and swung open with a soft pop.
Mari was immediately at his side, and they passed through. Chris took the lead. The dimly lit cement passageway was empty. He whipped off his gas mask and secured it on a clip on his belt, and Mari did the same.
“We need to go faster,” Mari growled.
Inside, Chris grinned as they jogged down the tunnel. “If we sprint, we run a greater risk of running into a situation we can’t get out of.”
The faint sound of voices echoed up ahead, and Chris whipped his arm out, halting Mari. With his lips pressed together, he flashed her a warning look before moving toward the noise in measured steps.
The tunnel slanted down at a slow decline. Frantic shouting became clearer, and Chris counted five distinct voices. He had to assume there would be more. An engine roared to life, and he swore under his breath. With his jaw clenched, he took a risk and rounded the last bend in the passage, with Mari on his heels.
The hallway gave way to a large, garage-like room that boasted two vehicles, more lights, shelves of supplies, and several freestanding cabinets off to the side. They dashed for cover behind those.
Seven men stood around two black Hummers, yelling instructions at one another. The doors were wide open, and two slipped in. Fuck! He took out the two at the back right of the closest vehicle. Mari launched several knives, and two found their marks. The noise escalated between the gunfire and shouting cartel members. The Hummer farthest from them started its engine. A thug in black hopped inside, joining what was probably a full entourage. Windows down, men leaned out and rained bullets in their wake as the vehicle lurched forward and away.
Chris and Mari faced off with the two men who remained, and who stood between them and the other Hummer. A barrage of ammunition shredded their cover, and both of them dropped to the ground. Chris rolled out from behind the destroyed steel cabinet, firing as he moved, with his gaze locked on the men. He got off two bullets, which landed dead center in each of their foreheads. The men fell to their knees, one after the other, their guns clattering to the cement floor as they crumpled in heaps.
After regaining his feet, Chris rushed the SUV, leading with his gun as he peered inside. It was empty, so he got behind the wheel and started the engine. Mari rounded the other side of the vehicle and, after catching his all clear, hopped in. He gunned the Hummer, and they barreled down the tunnel as she closed her door.
Cinderblocks flew by the windows in a blur of gray, interspersed with flashes of light from the wall sconces. No men lined the exit, and there were no traps. They travelled about a mile without seeing the other Hummer. Mari’s energy practically vibrated in the air. He got it. This needed to end. Not only for them, but for Liv and Liam, too.
They shot through the hidden escape, smashing the bushes planted in front just as the other vehicle must have done. Off in the distance, a cloud of dirt outed the SUV they sought. Chris floored the Hummer, pushing it harder than he had in the tunnel. The high speed over the bumpy road shook them inside the cab, and Mari grabbed the oh-shit handle.
“He has to die.” Her voice raged with steely conviction. Chris grunted. There were orders he had to follow and a mission he’d finally remembered the instructions for, should they find themselves in the thick of things before they were officially sent. “Take the unit down—eliminate Juan Carlos,” Rich had said. His instructions had been clear.
Mari turned in her seat and pleaded with him, her eyes wild. “If you turn him over to the authorities, he’ll be out in a matter of hours at the most. He owns this town and everyone in his far-reaching territory.”
“Hey babe, keep your head in the game.”
They’d been made. Men leaned out of the other Hummer’s windows, and one popped through the sunroof to man the machine gun there.
Dammit! A handheld missile launcher appeared through the rear window, and Chris swerved off-road. The blast sailed to the right of their SUV and detonated several feet past them in a narrow miss. The explosion rained debris high into the air, which fell with thuds all around and on them.
Mari returned fire, her body way too vulnerable to being hit for his taste. He maneuvered them back onto the dirt path, fighting the steering the entire way. Keeping them on course, he too extended his arm and got off as many shots as he could. The man who fired at them from the back of the Hummer tumbled out as they bumped over rough terrain, falling dead in a heap on the road. They ensured it when they bumped over his lifeless body.
Shots pinged off the bulletproof armor of their car and windshield. They closed the distance even more. The target’s driver was having some sort of issue as the Hummer swerved, making it difficult for the men to get off a good shot. That worked just fine for them.
In a burst of speed, Chris rammed the back bumper then swung around, slamming into the right quarter panel. He fired off several more shots, effectively taking out the man in the back right of the vehicle. That left Juan Carlos, who was no doubt in the middle of the backseat, and potentially only three additional men, including the driver.
Mari hoisted herself halfway out the window so her butt sat on the door, and with one hand, she maintained a death grip on the oh-shit handle. She fired her gun and took out the man in the passenger seat.
“Get in!” Chris yelled to her so he could brake then crowd the other side of the Hummer. They had two more, for sure, to overpower.
As they swerved around the left rear panel, Mari leaned out the window and traded shots with one of their guards.
“Hold on!” Chris shouted as he yanked the wheel and slammed into the rear quarter panel. The Hummer lurched, hit a bump and spun off the road. He braked and turned to follow. The enemies’ SUV tore
through the brush and smaller trees, out of control until it crashed into a huge tree trunk.
Chris slammed on the brakes, they skidded to a halt, and he threw the vehicle into park. He and Mari leapt out and rushed the vehicle as the men poured out of it, blood dripping from their faces and hands. The driver didn’t emerge, but the passenger-side door opened, along with the back doors. They had two to take down before they could get to Juan Carlos.
Mari jerked back, swearing, and Chris spared her a glance while firing. She kept moving around the SUV, and he re-focused on the gun that was directly in front of him. Pain blossomed across his shoulder as he took a bullet. Diving, he fired as he tumbled, hitting the man’s legs.
The guy shooting at him screamed, and the sound mixed with Mari’s cries as he dropped to his knees. Jumping to his feet, Chris fired off three bullets and ended him, his need to get to Mari all-consuming.
Leaving the driver for later, he raced around the SUV to see Mari being punched in the face. He cursed as he emptied his clip into the back of the man’s skull.
Chris caught her as she slipped down the side of the car. Setting her gently on the dirt, he promised everything would be okay, and that he’d be right back.
He ejected his empty cartridge then slammed another loaded one home. His body jerked back, and fire spread along his thigh. Another bullet. It had come from inside the car. Fuck.
Because the vehicle had bulletproof windows, Chris would only have one close entry point on the side. Reaching his hand around the threshold to the open door, he fired off several shots. A grunt sounded, followed by a gurgling moan, and he took advantage as he leapt in front of the opening while firing. One of Juan Carlos’s men, armed with two guns, aimed them at him, blood pouring from his shaking arm. Chris got off shot after shot, ignoring the burning in his stomach as bullets punched into his vest.
Three to the forehead and two to the throat. Dead. Chris shifted his gun to the driver and buried a bullet in the back of the driver’s head to be sure he was dead, although he lay motionless over the steering wheel. After a quick scan within the vehicle he allowed himself to focus on Mari.
Dropping to her side, he lifted a hand and gently touched the side of her swollen face. “They’re all dead.”
A small cry escaped her puffy lips before she clamped them together.
“Juan Carlos is in the backseat. We got him.” He brushed the loose hairs from her face as she lifted her chin to meet his gaze.
“Oh.” A shaky hand reached out, stopping just before she touched one of the bullet wounds on his arm. Tears leaked from her eyes, and she looked him over, pausing on the blood on his leg.
“I’m fine. Just have to clean and bandage them.”
She let him help her up before leaning into the car. She just stood there, unmoving and staring at the lifeless body of Juan Carlos. Before he could stop her, she launched herself inside and buried her knife in him over and over again until he pulled her away. Shit. “He’s already dead, can’t get any more so.”
He held her loosely in his arms, both of them staring at the lifeless drug lord. That man had been the root of too many problems for his team members, and for Mari. With another quick glance at the man who looked like his sons, Chris turned Mari in his arms.
“I can’t believe it’s over,” she whispered in a hoarse voice.
“Almost. We need to check in with the team, make sure they’re all okay.”
She nodded and went with him back to the SUV they’d ridden in on. Chris dropped to his seat and tore off a strip of his shirt, which Mari took from his hands and proceeded to wrap around his leg. She pulled her shirt free from her pants and ripped a section off for his shoulder as he put a call in to Liam.
Pure relief washed over him at the sound of his buddy’s voice and the all clear from his team. They were to meet back at Mari’s aunt’s apartment, where they could clean up and rendezvous with Jack, if he’d wrapped up the situation with Hannah.
Chapter 33
Chris
Water poured down on them from the tiny shower in Mari’s aunt’s home. Chris shook his head as she tried to wash him first. With gentle fingers, he lathered her hair with shampoo, massaging her scalp. The luxury of the shower, no matter how primitive with its exposed wires, was a welcome change.
He moved so she could stand under the trickle of water, and he helped to rinse her hair. With a washcloth, he soaped her body in slow, sensuous strokes. Her breath came in pants. He wanted to make love to her—and he would, when they were home safely.
After she was rinsed, she took the cloth from him, held it under the water, then lathered it with soap and proceeded to give him the same treatment. When she finished, she returned to his wounds and cleaned them with infinite care.
The bullets had both gone clean through, missing any vital arteries. The one in his shoulder was a flesh wound only, a mere scratch. They were painful, but he would heal. It could have been much worse. They were lucky.
Mari’s face was swollen on one side, her left eye so puffy she could only open it a slit. The sight of it caused rage to bubble up in him all over again, and he wished the guy who was hitting her was alive once more and within reach so he could kill him all over again.
“I’m fine. Stop looking at me like you’re ready to murder someone.” She smiled. “I’ll heal.”
He grunted, not trusting what would come out of his mouth. He shut the water off then leaned out and grabbed a towel, which he wrapped around her. After doing the same for himself, they stepped from the shower stall into the equally small bathroom. He put a clean pair of briefs on and watched as Mari pulled on the clothes she’d brought inside. The tight, colorful top clung to her, and the bright skirt flowed around her toned legs. The clothes suited her, and he dropped a kiss across her forehead. As she worked on her tangled, wet hair with a brush, he slipped from the bathroom.
“Well, fuck.” Trev thumped his good shoulder. “Look at you, dripping blood all over the floor.” He forced Chris to sit as he got to work on first aid.
Hawk leaned against the wall, keeping an eye on the street. His six-foot-three frame looked strange in the small room—they all did. None of them were under six feet tall, and they were all stacked with muscle. The whole team was present—Trev, Hawk, and Liam. Only Jack was missing.
“Where the hell is Jack?” Chris whacked Trev on the side of the head as he patted his freshly bandaged leg.
Trev shifted to patch up Chris’s shoulder, a frown marring his brother’s usually easygoing features. “Don’t really know. We’ve been trying to reach him on the satellite phone. The last contact we had was before we planned to decimate Juan Carlos’s house. It is, by the way. We leveled it.”
Thrusting his fingers through his short, wet hair, Chris ground his teeth. “Does Jack know she’s a spy? She has to be. Nothing else makes sense.”
Trev shifted back on his heels, repacked the supplies, and jammed them into his bag. Liam shoved off the doorframe to the kitchen to answer Chris. “Yeah. Whatever’s going on, Jack’ll get to the bottom of it. He knows we plan to head out tonight. The last transmission was really hard to understand through the static, but from what I got, he took off with Hannah and the jet. It should be back by now—he said he was sending it back. If not, we’ll wait.”
For how long? Jack needs to know what they’d done. Word would spread quickly of Juan Carlos’s demise, and the balance of power would shift. It wouldn’t bode well for whomever rose up and assumed control, no matter who it was. They had to leave as quickly and as quietly as possible, because finding themselves in another battle wasn’t the plan.
The sound of the door opening drew Chris’s gaze. Mari stepped from the bathroom and was breathtaking, even with the swelling on the left side of her face. She wrung her hands, and his brows rose from the clear sign of nerves. It was time they had that talk.
He stood, clasped her hand in his, and pulled her through the room to the back balcony. He indicated that she should take
a seat at the small, rickety table in the equally cramped outdoor space then lowered himself into a chair as well, taking the weight off his throbbing leg.
Mari cleared her throat, breaking the silence before he could. “I have to confess something to you.”
He paused, locked into the seriousness of her eyes.
“I’m not your wife.”
Right. He’d realized that the moment his memory fully returned. He sat across from her in silence, counting down as her nervousness morphed into anger.
“You knew, didn’t you? Why didn’t you tell me? You said you remembered more, but not about that. For how long?” She huffed, crossing her arms across her chest as her voice rose. “You lied. You… you made love to me, and you knew we weren’t really married.”
Brows raised, he grinned. “When we were intimate, I only had the information about our relationship from what you’d told me. Those feelings were real. You’re the one who claimed to be my wife.” He continued to grin at her as her jaw dropped. All fun aside, he didn’t want her to launch across the table and start pummeling him. That wouldn’t serve either of them in the condition they were in. “Mari, I didn’t remember until we saw Hannah in town. That’s when I figured out you weren’t who you claimed.”
The anger drained from her face as quickly as it had first arrived, and she relaxed her arms and clasped her hands in her lap instead. “Then you’re leaving soon.”
“That depends.” He studied her features, watching as hope bloomed over her fragile expression. “What did you expected to gain from saying you were my wife?”
She cleared her throat, and her tongue darted out to wet her lips. “At first, protection. If you thought I was your wife, you’d have a stake in my survival. Later, I was afraid if you knew the truth, you would change. You would become an enemy, instead of the man I was getting to know and coming to count on. I’ve been honest with you about my feelings. When I saw your military clothes and dog tags, I just couldn’t risk it. Taking your identification and lying about us was a gamble, but when you didn’t have your memory, the lie became easy, even safe.”