Authors: Allie K. Adams
At Any Cost (4 page)
The man had a pistol shoved into the back of his head, and yet he didn't flinch. Didn't even break a sweat.
JT cocked the pistol. "Take me to—"
"You're getting blood on me." He spoke as if she hadn't just carjacked him, didn't have a loaded pistol aimed at the base of his skull. "Brooks, fix her up. Son-of-a-bitch. Hang on." The motor home went up on two wheels as the driver cranked the wheel. The tires squealed. It fell back down to all four after the corner.
"No one touches me." JT turned the gun toward the forty-something Frenchman as he approached with a first aid kit in his hands. He stopped and waited for the driver's orders.
"We really don't have time to discuss this. Let my man patch that rip in your shoulder. Ah shit. Brooks. Stevens. Give us some cover."
The two men jumped into action. The tall redhead flipped the table over and revealed quite an impressive collection of handguns. They both grabbed a handful and ran toward the back of the swaying motor home.
"Turner? If it wouldn't be too much trouble, get that damn sidearm out of my skull."
JT brought the barrel up. "How did you know my name?"
"Later." The man jerked the wheel, and JT braced herself against the wall to not be thrown again. This guy drove like an idiot. But, he drove like a fast idiot. She could see through the back window the goons didn't stand a chance keeping up with them in their big black SUV.
And then she saw what this guy apparently saw.
Soapzilla
had his head out the passenger's side window. He held the rather impressive barrel of a Turkish 8mm out the window. She didn't have to see the details to know what was about to happen.
"Gun!" She dropped to the floor just as the bullet crashed through the back window and whistled past her. The sudden movement tore open whatever clotting she'd managed to do to stop the bleeding in her shoulder. She felt her flesh rip and bit her lip to stop from crying out. The driver cursed and swerved.
"Holy shit! Gun? That was a goddamn cannon. I said throw some cover fire. What are you two doing back there?"
"Sorry. That one got by me." The older man sent shots flying toward the vehicle and sent it swerving.
"No kidding."
She didn't know which side this guy was on, but right now he kept her from the guys trying to kill her. That was good enough for her.
"Stevens? You got the safety on or something?" the driver yelled back. JT looked back as well. The redhead sat there, his back against the sidewall of the motor home, his hands shaking. He looked like he'd seen a ghost. JT recognized that look from others at
Or go postal.
"Hey kid?" she called back. "You all right?"
He looked at her, but couldn't speak. He shook harder as he started to breathe deep. More color drained from his face. He was about to lose it.
JT knew the feeling.
"It's okay," she told him and pulled herself up off the floor. "Just point and shoot."
"Jesus, Stevens! What the hell good is an agent if he can't discharge his weapon? Shoot,
Opie
!"
JT smacked the back of the driver's head. He turned and glared up at her. "That's not nice."
"I'm not a nice person."
That insult brought some of the color back in Steven's cheeks. "I h-hate that n-name, W-Weber."
Weber? As in Dan Weber?
The
Dan Weber? JT's eyes darted between Stevens and the man she'd only read about.
The infamous Dan Weber. In the flesh. And, despite the stress of the situation, very nice flesh.
"Shoot now or you will never get sent on another op."
Stevens turned his glare to Weber. More of his color came back, at least in his ears. He sat forward, his lethal glare never leaving the back of Weber's head.
Oh no. He was about to turn on them. JT had to do something before they all fell victim to 'friendly' fire.
"Turn it, Stevens. Get pissed at the bad guy. Time to prove to Weber here that you can do it."
He snapped back, leaned against the wall.
"Great," Weber mumbled. "I knew it. I just knew it. He's worthless to me."
"Shut up," JT retorted just loud enough for him to hear. "Give him a chance."
"We don't have time for a chance, lady. In case you haven't noticed, your friends are still on our tail."
"If we don't get him pointing in the right direction, he's liable to shoot us instead."
Weber tried to turn, which jerked the motor home onto a sidewalk. He jerked the wheel and brought the rocking RV back under control.
"That is if
you
don't kill us first," she added.
"You know," he started, then stopped. JT had already started for the back. If Stevens wouldn't shoot, she would. Jumping on the bed, she pushed him aside.
"Hey, Turner. Reach inside the oven," he told her.
"I'm a little busy back here." She fired two at the driver's side tire. Weber jerked the RV at the same time, throwing her aim off.
"You'll find a button where the pilot light would be. Press it."
"You press it. I'm busy."
"Push the goddamn button, woman!"
She fired off two more. Damn it. Weber needed to keep the RV steady if he expected her to actually hit the target. The motor home rocked too much for her to get off a good shot. Four out, five left in the clip, one in the pipe. "Look, there are men shooting at us. I'm bleeding all over your bed back here. I'm fighting the urge to either pass out or throw up, so forgive me if I'm not interested in cooking you all dinner."
"Do it if you want to shoot back with something more than that .45 in your hand."
That caught her attention. She crawled across the floor as more bullets slammed into the back of the motor home, opened the oven and found the button. The top of the stove flipped over to reveal another nice collection of weapons. Assault, pistols, semi-autos, some hand grenades, rifles. Wow. This guy was full of surprises.
"Rumor has it you're pretty good with one of those."
JT smiled as her nerves calmed. Now the odds were evening up a bit. Yes, she knew how to use one. Just ask her instructor. She could out shoot him after only six weeks of training. With her weak hand, no less. Of course, she hadn't been in a rocking RV and didn't have a gaping cavern in her shoulder then.
She grabbed a couple
"Nice shootin',
"You ain't seen nothin', yet." She brought up a pistol in each hand, stood up on her knees, and fired. Left. Right. Left. Right. Until the front passenger tire blew. The SUV swerved and slowed. That gave her the opportunity she needed. With a steady hand, she used the
They kicked it out, revealing a whole lot of surprised faces. Then they sped up again, placing them into position.
Perfect.
She pulled the pin of the grenade with her teeth and easily tossed it through the hole left by the windshield. That got their attention. She smiled sweetly and waved good-bye to
Soapzilla
and his friends.
The vehicle slowed to a stop when the grenade went off. It filled the SUV with a deep crimson smoke and the men all poured out, coughing and covering their faces.
Expecting an explosion, JT felt robbed and turned to the driver. She wanted to blow them up, damn it. "What the hell?"
"The real ones are on the left. You grabbed a smoker. But not just any smoker. OC-10 in a nice compact."
"Cayenne pepper. Nice," She was starting to like this guy. Of course, it could be the loss of blood clouding her judgment. "They'll be incapacitated for a bit."
"We aren't out of the woods, yet. Here comes another one." He kept his eyes on his mirrors, while still driving incredibly well, missing every obstacle. JT would have said something, but she was sure Weber had no problem with his ego. He didn't need her stroking it. "Hang on." He jerked the vehicle around a corner at the last minute, barely keeping it on two wheels. No wonder the sides of the thing were so beat up.
Stevens rolled into JT. She pushed him back, knowing full and well the turn of the RV wasn't the only cause to his contact. The movement again tore at her shoulder. At this rate, she'd never clot.
"Do that again and I'll turn on you." JT grabbed a clip and shoved it into the
"Ooh. I like 'em feisty." He laughed, until JT elbowed him in the ribs. Great,
now
he got his nerve.
"Okay, you two. Let's break it up," Weber snapped at them. "How about we shoot the bad guys, instead of shooting off at the mouth. That means you, Stevens. Grab your weapon and fire. Unless you're okay with a
girl
outshooting you."
Stevens' ears turned beet red. JT hid her smile and fired off a few rounds at the windshield of the fast approaching black SUV. Stevens rolled back onto his knees, facing the back and into position. He flipped his safety off.
And started to shake again.
JT rolled her eyes and grabbed the gun from him, pushed him off the bed. He landed like a lump on the floor. They didn't need to take the chance. When he tried to get back up, JT shot him a venomous look. "Stay."
"Do they all drive those?" Brooks asked.
"Apparently," JT lobbed back.
"Less talk, more fire!" Weber ordered. JT bit her lip to hold in what she really wanted to say about where he could stick his order.
But it came out anyway. "Hey, Mario? How about you worry about keeping it steady, and let us worry about the shooting.
Capisce
?"
If she didn't know any better, she'd say he just smiled.
It took some inventive driving, but Dan finally lost the last SUV. His new guest stopped bleeding just as they pulled into the warehouse previously tagged as their safety net, should they need to make a fast getaway.
Having assholes in SUVs chase them down the side streets of
He glanced back at the next Superspy, JT Turner. Now resting after he'd closed her wound with butterfly bandages, he had a chance to study her. He'd been wrong thinking she'd be just as gorgeous in person. Gorgeous didn't nearly describe her.
Simply stunning. Captivating. Have-you-eating-out-of-the-palm-of-her-hands-for-a-smile beautiful. Even as she slept, he could see the little buds of her nipples rising and lowering as she breathed. Nice ass, although she was fast becoming a pain in his. Brunette? Why did she have to be a brunette? And why did he have such a weakness for them?
Dark chocolate hair, his favorite, and probably smooth as silk. He wanted to touch it, to weave his fingers through the thick mane and bury his face against her neck. Her skin looked so creamy it made his mouth water. And those green eyes stirred feelings in him he thought were dead. His dick twitched, letting him know it still held an interest in the rookie agent, even if his mind screamed no. Not just no, but
hell
no.
How in the hell did she do that, all in the middle of a shootout?
Not for the first time, he thought about whether he should have walked out instead of taking the assignment. For the first time in his career as a counter-terrorist agent, he felt a little over his head on this one. He didn't want to notice her this much. He
shouldn't
notice her this much. She was a double-agent, for Christ's sake. Screwing double-agents in turn screwed you. He knew that from personal experience.
Throwing another look her way, he took a keen interest in the way she slept. Just like everything else he'd discovered about her thus far, she did it with 100% conviction.
She should have passed out from the sight of the blood. She should have collapsed from the mere thought of being shot. She should have crumpled to the floor in a shaking, sobbing mess as he expected her to do.
But she didn't do any of that.
Instead, she joined right in the fun, in a dress coat and nothing else no less. Of course, after she removed the pistol from the back of his skull. He rubbed his head. Damn barrel left a lump. No,
barrels
don't leave marks,
women
left marks. Dan swore and growled deeply as he absently rubbed the scar on his chest.
Steady shooter, even with a wounded shoulder. Nerves of steel, that one. Dan felt the corner of his mouth pull up into a grin.
Way
over his head.
He didn't like being a delivery service. He didn't like being around women who looked like JT Turner, didn't trust either situation. Usually they were both dangerous, unpredictable, tempting him to open the package. Just the vision of her, the thought of opening this package, spreading her legs and tasting her, kicked his erection up a notch. This pounding ache in his groin caused his brain to fog. He couldn't think of anything but wanting to hold her, to kiss her with such an unbridled craving until he'd devoured her lips. He'd then fuck her out of his system. Not being with a woman in a couple of years had definitely taken its toll on him.
Now watching her as she rested all safe and snug on the bed, the treacherous bitch, made his stomach knot. This woman was not only responsible for the deaths of two of his fellow agents and the disappearance of a third, she'd killed the scientist and his assistant for no other reason than to steal
What in the hell was the matter with him? Didn't the scar across his chest remind him what women like JT Turner were capable of?
He'd barely made it to the parking lot of the Edgewater Inn when the engine started to cut out. Brooks didn't look like he even pumped his own gas, let alone could troubleshoot a problem in the engine. Stevens would just bitch about it instead of fix it. Dan had no choice but to work on it. With Brooks behind the wheel and Dan in front of the motor home, he'd just cleaned and replaced the battery cable when she appeared out of nowhere, streaking toward him in nothing but a woman's dress coat. He barely had time to recover from the sight and jump back behind the motor home before the gunfire erupted.
She ran right for the motor home. Why? Had she known they were there for her? Had she known Dan was only moments away from kicking down her door and dragging her by the hair back to HQ? Was that why she charged the motor home?
From the look in those wide-set green eyes as she raced toward the motor home, she was terrified, running for her life.
It didn't feel right. He wanted to hate her, to blame her for the deaths of his friends, his unit. But something stopped him. A higher power? Maybe. His conscience? More than likely. And that really pissed him off. Since when did he ever question his sense of right and wrong? Dan's instincts were always dead on. He never hesitated to trust his gut. What did his gut tell him now?
It told him JT Turner was up to her pretty little neck in shit. He couldn't get a bead on her. The last team a double-agent would turn to for help would be the team sent in to retrieve her. She wasn't stupid. She had to have known they were there for her. Yet when she realized who they were, she flipped out and shoved the barrel of a gun into his skull. The woman was full of contradictions.
He stepped out of the motor home, leaving the door open in case his guest decided to make a really bad decision and leave unannounced. With the door open, and him watching it like a hawk, he'd be on her in a nanosecond. That thought had him semi-hard again.
"Jesus, Weber. Who the hell cares how she looks? She's a goddamn traitor," he muttered, then glanced down at the bulge in his pants. "Got it?"
He rolled his eyes. Great. Now he was talking to himself. No, not just talking to himself, but to his cock. Swell. She'd already succeeded in driving him insane. He wished Gessler were here to knock some sense back into his head.
Damn how he missed his old team. They would have taken out the tangos before they had a chance to chase them down a side street of Seattle, endangering God only knew how many lives. Saunders and Johnson would have taken the back. Aims would have taken a side, Cole the other. And Gessler would have been right up front with Dan. He smiled at the not so distant memory. No doubt Cole would have broken into some story about his precious niece, Jessica, somewhere along the way.
He glanced at his new team. Stevens had finally stopped puking and was now resting against some boxes. Brooks was making some notes on their mission thus far to report back to intel. Dan sighed and pushed away from the motor home. NASSD didn't give him a new team. They'd given him nothing more than agents they were willing to spare, to sacrifice. Shaking his head, he allowed a few of his favorite cuss words to fall from his lips. Not much had changed since his last mission with NASSD, it seemed.
As far as he was concerned, they'd succeeded. They had JT Turner in custody. Dan had
Dan held up the disc he'd taken out of Turner's pocket after she'd passed out.
He dropped it on the cement floor. The smack as it hit echoed through the empty warehouse. He brought his boot up.
This is for you, Gessler
. Too bad his partner was no longer around to see Dan destroy
"I wouldn't do that if I were you."
His foot still hovering inches above the disc, Dan brought his eyes up to see JT standing in the doorway of the motor home, her arms firmly folded in front of her, pushing her breasts up even higher. She stepped down and made her way over to him.
Just the way she walked made him wake up and smell the pheromones. His mouth went dry. The way her hips swayed reminded him of palm trees in a smooth breeze. The t-shirt he'd found for her, along with a pair of
Opie's
shorts, made for an interesting, and enticing, outfit. As she approached, she unfolded her arms and Dan had a very clear view of how cold it must be in the warehouse. You wouldn't be able to tell that from his point of view. Oh Jesus, no. It felt about two thousand degrees in there right now.
She'd found some way to comb out her dark hair, though he didn't know how, and had somehow made it shine in the scarce lighting of the warehouse. Her green eyes shined as well, making Dan forget why his foot was in the air in the first place.
The disc. Right. He moved his boot closer to the disc.
"I said I wouldn't do that if I were you."
"I heard you the first time. You aren't me." He brought his foot down. Quicker than he'd expected someone to be after taking a bullet, she snuck her foot under his and swept the disc out from under his boot.
"Thank God for small miracles." She flipped her hair back as she reached down and grabbed the disc. She almost had it in the pocket of her shorts before Dan had his hand on her wrist. He jerked and felt every one of her curves as it slammed into him. His chest pinched in response as he sprang to life once again.
"I don't think so, Turner." Lowering his gaze, he stared at her full lips. They stood only inches apart. It would be so easy to capture those lips with his, to feast on them and drink in the taste of her.
"Let go of me." Her eyes blazed up at him.
"Give me the disc."
"No."
"Give me the disc," he said with a little more conviction, stiffening when she wiggled and grazed up against his now rock-hard cock.
She locked gazes with him, narrowed her eyes. Ah, Christ. She'd felt it. How could she not? And why was she still grazing up against it, applying just enough pressure for him to stifle a groan.
Giving him a sly, knowing grin, she replied. "No."
"Don't make me take it from you." He dared her by cocking his brow. She wiggled again and Dan almost closed his eyes. He drew in a sharp breath.
"Why? So you can destroy it?"
"Damn straight."
"I don't think so." She jerked out of his grasp and brought her knee up. If his reflexes were a millisecond slower, he'd be singing soprano. Before she could take more than a few steps back, Dan had her back in his grasp. The way she looked up at him, offering him a come-and-get-me grin, had him fighting against the want—no, the
need
—to take those lips with his.
She did it on purpose. The little minx gave him a raging hard-on with nothing but a smile. He could feel the heat creeping up his neck. In an attempt to check his temper, not to mention his libido, he ground his teeth together. "Lady, you have no idea what that disc can do, what it has already done."
"The hell I don't. I've risked everything to get it."
Dan felt a chill wash over him, reminding him that, beautiful or not, she was a double-agent. Oh, she'd risked everything all right. And killed a few of her fellow agents, a couple of scientists, not to mention his friends. Add traitor to her country and greedy little bitch, and she'd have quite a tag line.
"Give me the disc,
Turner
."
"Go to Hell,
Weber
."
She tested his chivalry. He raised his hand, dropped it, and then raised it again. Damn this woman. "I don't want to hurt you, but I will."
"Ditto."
They stared each other down, neither willing to yield. Only when Stevens decided to join the party did Turner finally look away to watch him approach. Dan dropped her wrist and they both took a step back.
"Now that we have this
"HQ?" JT's eyes darted between the men and Dan could have snapped Opie's neck on the spot. So much for getting her to come quietly. "No way. I can't. Not yet."
"Yet?" Dan turned his gaze to her. "Why not yet?"
"I haven't completed my mission, that's why not."
