Xtreme Measures (Xtreme Ops Book 5)

by Em Petrova

  Of all the dumb reasons. She’d let her libido take a chance on her fate?

  “Okay, let me tell you what I see.”

  Her insides quivered.

  “You run a business that employs too many women.”

  “Stop.”

  “Those bouncers are really running the place.”

  “Please,” she begged.

  Gently, he closed his hands around her twisting ones, holding her steady. He may as well be holding her up. She channeled all the strength she took from his touch to remain upright.

  “Let me go.” Her voice came out as a hoarse whisper.

  He released her and she rushed away. She crossed the room to the lost and found box. As she rifled the contents, she was aware that the man followed her and stood inches away again.

  “I don’t even know your name.” She paused with a man’s shirt in her hand.

  “Elias.”

  She shut her eyes and reopened them. “Elias what?”

  “Gasper.”

  “Here.” She shoved the shirt at him and continued to rummage for something to put on his mile-long legs. All she could come up with were some men’s sweatpants, which were worn out and far too small for a man of his size.

  “Put these on. I can’t think with you so…” She waved a hand at his nakedness.

  Was that an amused gleam in his eyes? He donned the shirt, the cotton overly stretched across his chest. His biceps threatened to burst the seams. A grease stain from the real owner was a darker gray that drew her eyes again and again to his rounded pec.

  “Ruby, you’re flustered. Stressed. Scared. What can I do to help you?”

  She whirled on him so fast that he stopped with one leg in the sweats. “I told you! Leave. Don’t come back!”

  He pulled the pants on faster than she thought a man that big could move. She was right—the garment was too small, and the hems came to midcalf. “I’m definitely not leaving if you’re in trouble.”

  “You don’t know me. You don’t have any reason to want to stay and help me.”

  “So you are in trouble. Who’s pressuring you?”

  “Just…” His blue eyes were boring into her mind, making all her thoughts leak through the hole he made. “I have to return to the restaurant. Look for the purple float.”

  He didn’t even blink at what she’d said. “Purple float?”

  She waved toward the sea. “Out there.”

  Before he came up with any more questions, she ran out. Seconds later, she found Elias on her heels.

  Why oh why had she given him that clue? Why did she feel the need to help the guy when he’d only keep screwing everything up for her? He wasn’t one of her girls to take care of. His size and strength told her he could do that for himself.

  Stupid. She didn’t have to save the world. She didn’t have to let down her guard with him either. No matter how sympathetic the looks he shot her.

  As she flew past the men at the table, she noted the strange looks they were giving her—then giving their friend. One started to chuckle, and another went into a coughing fit as he choked on his drink.

  “Ruby!” Elias called out before she could hide in the kitchen. “Can I have another bowl of chili?”

  She kept walking directly to the kitchen. There, she grabbed the first thing she saw—a bag of cornbread.

  She strode out and tossed the entire bag at him. “Enjoy your lunch!”

  The guys erupted in laughter, and Elias’s eyes warmed a bit, though they still held too much concern for either of their good.

  Chapter Five

  The salty air of the Bering Sea filled Gasper’s lungs and gulls wheeled in the air, following the boat in hopes of a fishing net and some stolen dinner.

  His thigh muscles engaging with the rocking motion sent him back to other missions spent on the water. He hadn’t dived in a long time, and it was time to tap those skills.

  “It’s going to take us a week to find the purple buoy. How do you know the woman isn’t sending us on a wild goose chase to get us away from town?” Lipton stood at the rail, binoculars pressed against his eyes, scouring the water.

  “She isn’t. I heard it in her tone.”

  “You don’t know her. She could be a good liar.”

  Her expression as it had looked in that moment she told him about the purple buoy flashed into Gasper’s mind. He grunted. “No. She’s telling the truth.”

  “The only reason I’m trusting you right now is I’ve seen you talk the devil into telling us where hell’s located.” Lipton had his sea legs too, shifting with the rise and fall of the vessel.

  Gasper grunted, keeping his focus on the waves.

  “The captain’s heading east. Says he’s seen some shit out that way during his Coast Guard years,” Penn spoke up.

  The captain they’d chartered to bring them out here had fought smugglers in these waters for decades. When they asked him to find the purple buoy, no questions had been asked.

  “So what did happen in that laundromat, Gasper? How did you convince Ruby to give us intel?” Shadow asked.

  “I felt like a cad for pressuring her, but I brought up what the B&B owner said about her place. He basically told us it’s a brothel.”

  “That would make anyone talk,” Shadow said.

  “I’m more interested to hear what happened to his clothes. He returned wearing those sweats that came up to his knees.” Lipton never lowered the binoculars and continued to search the water.

  Gasper didn’t want to think about the surge of desire in his balls when Ruby had put her hands on him. The touch might have been fleeting, but only because he couldn’t risk standing there battling a hard-on. He may not know Ruby, but he gathered that she wasn’t that kind of woman.

  “Broshears, Shadow, check the munitions.” Penn’s order had the guys moving toward the bag they’d brought on board. Not knowing what they were getting themselves into, or what they’d find at the purple buoy, they didn’t come without enough gunpowder to do the job right.

  “Jack.”

  Gasper shifted his attention to his captain.

  “Ready your diving gear. The minute we locate anything remotely purple out here, you’re going in.”

  “Yes, sir.” While he scrambled into his wetsuit rated for diving in frigid waters, Penn flipped open a case and removed his own set of fins and a mask. The waters would be cold despite the milder weather in June, and they’d both come equipped with diving suits.

  “We’ve got a purple buoy. Off the port bow!” came the ship captain’s call.

  Lipton whirled toward the port bow, and Penn stepped up beside him. “You have it in your sights?” Penn asked.

  “Yup. There it is, just as the woman said—bright purple.”

  Penn snatched the binoculars from Lipton to see for himself. “Damn. Sticks out like an elephant in the ballet.” He handed the binoculars to his second-in-command. “I’ll inform the captain we’ll be diving.”

  Gasper hurried into his gear, outfitting himself not only for the cold water but with combat gear. Who knew what the hell was down there hooked to that buoy, so they had to be prepared for any contingency.

  Within minutes, they reached the float. Seeing the bright purple bouncing on the choppy waves had Gasper’s insides tightening. Ruby hadn’t led them astray, just as he guessed she wouldn’t. He trusted his instincts in all things, especially humans. If he got bad vibes off someone, he erred on the side of caution while assessing what made him hesitate in the first place.

  He didn’t pick up any odd hunches from the beauty in the bar. Only thing he gathered off her were waves of fear. She was tied up tighter than a constrictor knot, and if he had to make a guess, she’d be equally difficult to unravel too. Difficult, but not impossible.

  As soon as they finished here, he planned to go into her bar and demand she speak to him alone. It might take some threats to make the bouncers back off, but he had no doubt his team could handle the challenge.

  A he
avy weight settled in the pit of his stomach every time he thought about Ruby. At first, he told himself his attraction to her played no part in this game. But then the strong desire to cup her cheek and taste those full, plump lips had damn near overruled his good intentions in that laundromat.

  Not to mention that he’d like to shove a handful of quarters into a washing machine and push her up against it to see her come apart for him.

  Hell, now his perverted tendencies were popping out like hives. He liked watching his women get off. Toys, vibrators, and even various produce were common in his bed. What got Ruby’s juices flowing?

  His insides coiled with need, and he scarcely checked his dick. Couldn’t fit a raging hard-on in a wetsuit, could he?

  Penn appeared on his three, and he tossed his captain a look. “Ready?”

  “Damn near.” He would be if his thoughts hadn’t taken the depraved path. Now that he’d thought about the washing machine, he couldn’t stop thinking about it.

  The captain had the engines revving to keep the boat from drifting too far away from the buoy. In seconds, Gasper was outfitted with a mask and air tank, his fins fitted to his feet.

  He met Penn’s gaze. The captain gave a nod. At the same time, they hitched their legs over the rail. Gasper balanced for a split second before dropping into the water. He entered as sleek as a seal. Quickly, he adjusted his air settings and pushed off through the water toward the buoy.

  In their comms unit, Lipton guided them straight to it. Gasper concentrated on his breathing so as not to use too much oxygen from his tank. The goal was always to preserve because a diver never knew how long he’d be under.

  The murky waters were illuminated slightly by their headlamps as they cut through the water toward the buoy. Crab trap floats were used often in the Bering Sea to mark where fishermen dropped their pots. Whoever had dropped the purple float must have something attached to it.

  Penn gestured to Gasper. He kicked faster, propelling himself toward the object. His heartbeat picked up with adrenaline, and he slowed his breathing even further to control his heart.

  With a final hard kick, he reached the buoy first. A rope dangled down through the water, shifting in the currents. Penn gave him the signal to follow it.

  What was at the bottom of the rope? It could be a crab pot, and Ruby had tricked him. Or nothing more than a dangling rope.

  They might find a bomb. It’d been known to happen.

  He thought of Ruby’s flinty blue-gray eyes and knew she wouldn’t send him out here to be blown up.

  He dived a meter and then another, ticking each length off in his mind. The hydro-static pressure increased the deeper he dived. His ears stopped up, his eardrums reacting to the pressure.

  Then he spotted it. Penn did too, and they slowly sank deeper in order to reach it. At first, he didn’t know what he was seeing. A bag of some sort, ballooning in the water like a giant jellyfish.

  His initial impression was that this wasn’t an underwater mine. The bag contained some other material, and he’d bet his bank account that it wasn’t crabs.

  Penn motioned, wordlessly cautioning him to be careful. Gasper gave a nod of understanding before he started working at a knot in the rope binding the waterproof bag shut. Long minutes later, he loosened the knot enough to peer inside the bag. It contained several more bags, all high quality and waterproof. He reached in and felt around with his gloved hand.

  Bricks of heroin or cocaine. They wouldn’t know until they reached the surface.

  Propelling himself closer, Penn saw it and then pointed up. The bag was still heavy despite the buoyancy in water, but Gasper managed to knot the bag shut again, heft it over his shoulder and kick toward the surface.

  Like a moth to a flame, he was drawn toward the ring of light above. Penn broke the surface first, with Gasper right behind. Hoots of celebration hit their comms. With Penn’s help, they guided the bag to the boat. The captain tossed out a hook to reel it in. Gasper made certain the hook was solid in the rope before letting go—if it sank to the depths of the sea floor, they’d never retrieve it.

  Then a life raft was lowered for him and Penn. They hoisted themselves inside, and it was lifted out of the water. Seconds later, when they hit the deck again, Gasper peeled off his mask first.

  “Not surprised Jack’s a fisherman now. I hope you brought us somethin’ good.” Lipton grinned at him.

  Gasper leaned against the rail, stripping off his fins first and catching his breath. When both he and Penn were ready, two of the guys hefted the big bag onto a table where fish and crab would normally be sorted.

  Penn gave the go-ahead, and Broshears sliced through the rope holding the bag shut. Shadow glanced in and issued a low whistle.

  “Damn… Good haul.” He stepped aside for Penn to see.

  “Your informant did us a favor. The real question is why?” Penn pulled out a brick of heroin.

  “That’s the good stuff, too. Same as what they’re finding in Anchorage.”

  “Yep, it’s coming through here and being distributed. I’d say that’s the reason for the high price of gas at the truck stop—the owner knows the people shuttling the goods are willing to pay the price,” Penn said.

  All the guys settled their stares on Gasper. “Again, why would she tell you this is here?”

  Gasper pinched the bridge of his nose. “I can only think that the drugs are somehow hurting Ruby’s business…or those girls who live upstairs in her building are connected to this. She wants it to be found out and stopped.”

  “Why did she trust you with the information, though?” Penn eyed him.

  “Must be my devastating good looks.” Truth was, he’d thought long and hard on it and came up empty too. She worked against him, but just when he thought she hated him, she did something like give him that clue to help him.

  When she did that, she was leaning on him. Putting trust in his hands. Working together for both their good.

  Penn snorted, and a couple of the guys chuckled. Then he searched for the ship captain. “Captain Bill, can you have the DEA meet us onshore? We’ll hand off the drugs. Then we’re heading right to the bar, and Jack can find a new talent when he picks apart the owner to find out everything she knows about where these drugs are coming from.”

  Gasper’s heart kicked up again with another hit of adrenaline. Getting Ruby to talk wouldn’t be easy. A hard woman came with a hard price, and this one wouldn’t be wined and dined into telling him what he needed to know.

  Ruby’s spine hit the chair hard enough to force the air out of her lungs. Her fingers curled around the chair arms, and she shot a lethal glare up at Max.

  “You can’t push me around! I’ve told you twenty times—I don’t work for you!”

  His mouth twitched into a sneer as he pulled out his phone. She braced herself for what he was about to show her. Please, let it be anything but my father’s dead body. She couldn’t live with failure.

  “You’re going to listen to us, even if you don’t work for us directly,” he said in his rough English.

  Behind her, the kitchen door opened. Whoever poked her head into the restaurant took a look at what was going on and retreated immediately. Ruby dug her fingers into the wood arms as Max thrust his phone in front of her face.

  Her father lay crumpled on his side, face hidden, but his howls of pain echoed from the speakers and flooded each corner of Ruby’s mind.

  “Stop! I don’t want to see.” Her words ended on a weak rasp. She hated herself more by the second—she wasn’t this woman. She stood up to anybody who screwed with her, but when it came to her father, her inner child surfaced, and she would do anything to make sure he was safe.

  Though she’d asked herself plenty of times what he’d ever done to help her. Certainly when he was gambling away their money and damn near lost the bar too, her father didn’t have her in mind.

  A boot came onto the screen, swinging back sharply. Then the toe connected with her father’s stomach.
He groaned and fell still. Thank God he’d passed out, though what damage they’d do to him in that state, she didn’t want to see.

  “Get away from me,” she spat at Max. She wanted to curl up and cry but held it in. Crying wouldn’t get her father free before these bastards took his life, sold off all her girls…and God knew what they’d do to her.

  “Those guys have been hanging around here a lot. Why?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “No funny business.”

  “They’re customers. I run a business, in case you forgot.”

  Max met her glare with one of his own. She steeled herself for a blow, but he didn’t hit her very often. Not since that night she woke him up dangling a red-hot cast iron skillet over his balls.

  “You took that man to the laundromat.”

  “Because I dumped chili in his lap. My dear grandmother would have done the same to repay a customer.”

  At that moment, the front door opened. She held her breath, praying with all her heart that the man they were talking about didn’t just enter her building.

  Dammit.

  Elias Gasper filed in first, shoulders filling the opening a split second before he pushed through. His dark blue stare swept over the room and landed on Ruby.

  Was it her imagination or did she see Elias’s jaw clench and the spark of fury in the depths of his eyes? For a full heartbeat, neither she nor Elias looked away. Then she broke the connection and settled her stare on Max.

  Max’s eyes took on a gleam as if he knew something she didn’t. “Make sure you don’t dump any more chili.”

  Thinking fast, Ruby said, “Maybe I like how he looks,” she said in a furious whisper.

  Thankfully, God was on her side and Max lowered his voice too. “You want his cock?”

  “Yes.” She raised her chin.

  With a chuckle, Max backed off and pocketed the phone. “Make sure you get rid of any brats, or we’ll sell them.”

  Her stomach burned and twisted, but she didn’t vomit at the dark promise. “I’m smart enough not to get knocked up by some drifter.”