Bullet to the Heart (21 page)

“No? Okay then. Let’s talk war, Trident Corp, because that’s what we’re about to enter. No mistake, Joseph Bombardier is prepared for you.”

Ken didn’t turn around but said, “So you would lead us to ambush?”

“Perhaps, Mr. Nodachi, you and I should go a few rounds? Maybe an ass whipping will change your shitty attitude? I came here to garner support, knowing beyond a shadow of a doubt that you would want revenge and may even try to kill me.” Her voice raised a single octave, the strident tone slithering through Rand and forcing all the men to look at her. “Why in the name of all that’s holy would I risk my own fucking life to lead you to ambush? I could have put a bullet in your head many times over, Mr. Nodachi. Your actions are making me wonder why I hesitated.” Bullet threw up her hands, exasperation in the line of her shoulders, the set of her mouth.

“You won’t threaten me and live to do it twice,” Ken bit out.

She stilled and did something that made Rand’s blood freeze. She smiled, the curve of her lips deadly and intoxicating. Heat burned in Rand’s chest as every muscle in his body went on alert. This was the killer. He reached for his Kimber, and she speared him with a look, daring him without words to follow through. He relaxed his arms, and she nodded.

She glanced back at Ken. “I think you have a difficult time counting, which shouldn’t surprise me considering how obtuse you’ve proven yourself to be. I’ve been a threat to you multiple times. You may not have seen us, but each of my sisters has had you in our sights.” She walked over to stand directly in front of Ken, and Rand moved closer, as well.

He wouldn’t allow Ken to harm her. Nobody but Rand was allowed to do that. He wanted to call the thought back, afraid that’s just what would happen. He was afraid he’d damage her. Son of a bitch! Deep inside he knew she wouldn’t survive the type of hurt he’d deal her. And it didn’t change the fact that he’d have her under him again, soon.

Less than inches separated Bullet from Ken. Rand held his breath. Ken was ready to explode, anger riding his features, making him seem just moments away from reaching for her.

She cocked her head and glowered at him. “Did you not feel the focus of my scope,” she reached out to tap him on the middle of his forehead, “right here? Oh, I know you did. Remember London? Or Madrid? It was Bone that time, waiting for you to make a move she disapproved of. Had you not eliminated Skelton, she would have killed you—broken you before you had a chance to draw breath. ” She allowed him seconds to take that in. By the slight widening of Ken’s eyes, he remembered. He began to shake his head and she cut him off. “No? You’ve never felt that whip of air and wondered who had just been behind you? Maybe it was Arrow, Bone, or Blade, or maybe, just maybe it was me, Mr. Nodachi.”

His friend, his brother, moved then, and Rand called out a warning, but he needn’t have worried. She had a single hand around Ken’s throat and was squeezing. Ken’s face was already red and his eyes were bulging, the look in them desperate. He went to his knees, unable to do anything else. Adam and Dmitry didn’t move, simply watched as a woman who was barely five feet tall brought down a man a foot and half taller than her with nothing more than her hand.

She got in his face but never lessened her grip, digging her thumb and fingers into the area around his Adam’s apple. “So you see, Mr. Nodachi, there have been many times when my presence has threatened you. Yet I’ve never made a move, never pulled the trigger. Why do you think that is?” Ken grabbed her arm, and Rand knew his grip was painful, but she held on.

“If you don’t let him go soon, you’ll kill him. Different than a bullet but the end result is the same, yes?” Rand asked her blandly.

She looked up at Rand, and he felt the impact of her deadened gaze like a wrecking ball in the gut. What the fuck had this woman been conditioned to?

She pushed Ken away from her. He fell coughing and sputtering, but was up quickly, struggling to draw in air. Bullet turned to Rand. Her pale eyes blazed with the fury of a thousand suns, and he felt her pain, smelled her pain,
knew
her fucking pain so deeply he wanted to pummel Ken for what he’d made her resort to.

“I could have killed you all a hundred times over, and you’d be nothing but dust in the wind now. My sisters and I chose you and Trident Corporation, not for what you’d lost, but for what you are. Strong, capable,
good
.” She inhaled sharply and stood straight. “Now I’m wondering if you’re all just as Joseph Bombardier . . . weak, insignificant, judgmental fools hiding behind a veil of righteousness.”

“We are men, true enough, Gretchen. Good men? I don’t know. But we fight for the innocent, and we will do everything in our power to destroy The Collective.” He put the words out there, gave her the only assurance he could at that moment. He had to hope it would be enough.

His use of her name had her narrowing her eyes. Would she let it go? Could he? She glanced at Ken, and the man had the good grace to look away. “Hard to look at one you would destroy without cause isn’t it, Mr. Nodachi? I’ve had that problem before too. It’s why your brain is still in your head.”

“Goddamn it, you’re a killer! How the fuck do we trust you when you’re bankrolled by The Collective?” Ken’s voice was ragged.

She snorted and tossed her braid over her shoulder. “I didn’t ask for your trust, Mr. Nodachi. In fact, I don’t think I’ve asked you for a fucking thing. Neither your trust nor your pity are required or even wanted.”

Rand caught her gaze and held it, determination winging through him. “Then what is, Bullet? Just what the hell do you want?”

Her voice was colder than anything he’d ever heard in his life. He irrationally wanted to weep at the brush of it against his mind. “It’s really very simple. I want your life.”

Her statement rang in the air for a long time. For all the bitter acidity of her words and demeanor, she’d taken the life from the room as she left. Each of the men looked at one another, unsure how, or even what, to feel. Anger? Fear? It was hard to process her meaning when she didn’t hang around to expand on it.

“There you have it, Rand. The woman you’re fucking wants your life.” Ken laughed, but it was hollow and mirthless.

“Ken, shut your mouth before I put a bullet in you myself,” Rand growled.

“I know what she wants,” Dmitry said quietly from his position at Rand’s desk.

Adam stiffened and threw Dmitry an odd look. “Yeah? Gonna share or just be all cryptic and shit?”

Rand had known from the moment he’d pulled her out his water pit why she’d come. He waited, though, to hear it from someone else’s lips.

“It’s pretty fucking simple.” Dmitry nodded his head and looked out the window. “We’re bait.”

Ken and Adam remained silent. Rand walked out of the room, something pushing him toward her, urging him to find her and do . . . something.

She wasn’t in her room, and as he walked downstairs, Ken was waiting at the bottom.

“She’s a killer, Rand. We can’t trust anyone associated with her.”

“She is a killer. You forget, I’ve seen her in action, but Ken, she’s our chance to get in. We just have to make sure we hold on tight enough that if she’s leading us into a trap, we spring it first.”

Ken tilted his head. “You really think you can use her that way? That she’s oblivious to any potential countermove? The Collective has an advantage. They know us. We know very little about them. And yeah—” he held up a hand to cut off Rand’s protest, “—we have a list of members now. Whoopdefuckingdoo. You stepped into his shit when you torched the side of that mountain, Rand. His entire poppy crop that year took a beating. And it cost you your wife and daughter. The only other thing you have now is your life. He’ll take that too. Don’t make it too easy.”

Rand crossed his arms over his chest and just stared at his best friend.

“And you’re screwing her. You don’t think that’s going to throw your perspective off?” Ken’s voice was full of doubt.

Rand shook his head, vehement denial on his tongue.

“Just don’t. From the moment you called me in Seattle, something in your voice was off. She’s managed to fuck with you somehow. I look at her and see a killer. You look at her and see . . . well, hell, what do you see?”

He couldn’t answer. Because while he saw not much more than Ken saw in Bullet, Gretchen had snagged his—

“He sees revenge, Mr. Nodachi. In all its glorious colors, red the color of blood, black the color of death. I’m nothing to Mr. Beckett, I assure you,” Bullet’s voice stroked down Rand’s spine, making his balls draw tight. He kept his gaze on Ken. It wouldn’t do to let the man see too much.

And for sure, it would be all over Rand’s face if he looked at her right now. Tension wound through him. He’d gone searching for her after she’d left the library, wanting some affirmation and irrationally wanting to soothe her.

“Joseph has a saying: ‘Let not your enemy know you. Let him
feel
you as you take the breath from his chest.’ I will say only once more that had I wanted either of you dead, you would be. I was trained in all matter of warfare, but I earned my name. Bullet is what I am. Who I am. I cannot apologize for the lives I’ve taken. There is no reason. So you have a decision to make: allow me to give you information or...” She laughed then, the sound jarring. “But we know you won’t do that. For a killer to gift you with your way to justice corrupts your integrity somehow, doesn’t it? Ahh, the winding paths we take to validate our actions. I am eager to see what you will choose.”

She turned and Ken spoke.

“You said we have a decision to make. Trust you or what, Bullet?”

Her shoulders stiffened, and in the gesture was a wealth of emotion, rage, but also a measure of defeat. Had she perhaps felt something move between them as he moved in and out of her heat, as sweat joined their skin and desire pulled at their hearts? Had she felt the bond that even now he pushed away?

“Or I will leave and you will become my enemy right along with Joseph Bombardier and The Collective. You are either for or against me.” She faced them both now, red tingeing her cheeks, eyes bright with malice. “Nothing will interfere with my mission. Not you—” She nodded at Rand. “And not him.”

“I will tell you only once more, Gretchen Dearborn, or as you prefer, Bullet. Do not threaten me and think you’ll live much longer. I would rather we had killed you as you lay on the floor in the basement. Buried your body underneath my sister’s azaleas. There is a certain irony in that, I think. That you are alive is because ultimately, your defeat is Rand’s to dispense.”

Bullet cocked her head, clenched her hands, and released them. Goddamn, she was fucking beautiful. Rand’s heart ached at her posture, her constant vigilance. Still, he remained silent. This needed to play out.

“I will not belabor the point with you, Mr. Nodachi. You should be aware if you are lucky enough, good enough, to kill me, there are three more women you’ll have to go through to achieve your goal. Joseph Bombardier is ours to hunt and ours to kill. He’s taken from you; I do not doubt you have all suffered at his hands. But Joseph Bombardier is ours.” She finished her diatribe and looked directly at Rand.

His stomach dropped. Tiny wisps of hair framed her face, red lovers caressing the silk of her cheeks. Her eyes were brilliant gems in her face, and she took his breath.

“Is that all?” he asked her, leaning a shoulder against the banister railing.

Her lips tightened and he smiled. It eased him to know he got under her skin. Rand had a feeling not much did. He didn’t like the deadened apathy she struggled to hide behind. He preferred her cheeks rosy with anger and her luscious lips tightened in frustration.

“You think me either naïve or complacent. I came here with a purpose. Joseph could strike within minutes or days, and then he will hole up and wait . . . for our return or your defeat,” she bit out.

Rand straightened at that. “You think he’ll strike at me here? On American soil less than ten miles from one of the largest concentration of spec ops soldiers in the world? Has he lost his mind?”

“No. But he has the backing of name number four on your list. You read the file. Surely you didn’t miss the United States Director of the CIA’s name on there?” Her disbelief rang throughout the foyer.

“No, but to attack one of his own specialists is political suicide. We are CIA sanctioned and have done jobs for Director Hobbs himself. . ." He left it hanging because he couldn’t formulate a single valid reason why someone scared of being discovered in Hobbs’ position wouldn’t allow, hell,
assist
a strike against Trident Corporation.

Ken had already started moving toward the library. “I’m going to call in Raines for help on this,” he called over his shoulder.

“He might be able to spare some men. I’ll have Adam call up a few too.” Rand glanced at Bullet. Her arms were crossed over her chest, and she looked out the window.

A bright light glinted through the sidelight window beside the door.

“Get down!” she yelled as she moved toward him, tripping him and taking him to the floor.

Glass exploded inward, chunks of it raining down on them as another shot followed the first and blasted out a chuck of the steps Rand had been standing in front of.

“Crawl!” Bullet said, and then headed in the opposite direction.

“Goddamn it, get down!”

She stopped and looked at him, her eyes a bright slice of blue against the growing darkness of the afternoon. “I’ll be back,” she said furiously.

Once she was at the lip of the step to the basement, she stood and hurried down.

Rand pulled out his gun and started firing out the broken window.

“What the fuck?” Ken hollered from the doorway.

“Sniper at six o’clock,” Rand responded as another slug embedded in the flooring about ten feet in front of him.

“Get in the library,” Ken said as he fired in the direction of the shots.

Both men moved into the library and silence reigned.

Then one shot rang out, the percussion of it rumbling Rand’s spine. Silence again for long minutes.