Clarity (The Admiral's Elite Book 3) (37 page)

Reaching behind her back, she lifted her shirt to pull her gun. No pause to tell him why or lament life’s frailty, she merely pointed and pulled the trigger. With a bang her nemesis fell, a thin trail of blood leaked from the corner of his eye over the bridge of his nose.

“What the fuck, Gabs?” Ryan reached for his weapon as well, prepared to defend should he have bodyguards or watch dogs nearby.

Kenneth hooted. “That was fantastic! Not a peep, just point and shoot.” He pantomimed pulling a weapon and using it. More laughing.

Ryan looked like he was partially amused and a little annoyed. Plenty freaked. He turned to Kenneth. “You’re sick.”

“Me?” The sicko in question touched his chest. “I’m not the one who just took out el lobo primo at point blank range.”

Gabrielle felt nothing. No redemption, vindication, none of those things she fed on, craved since burying her beloved Luc in the desert.

Ryan’s warm hand touched her arm, squeezing. He supported her, loved her even, but there was work and people would come soon. They didn’t want to be there when they did. He moved around her. “Mike, what’s going on? What angle were you working with him?” He squinted. “Where’s Becca, man?”

“She’s in the truck. In the back.” He sounded strange. “Would you?”

Another squeeze to her arm and Ryan jogged to the back doors.

“Kenneth, grab the body, throw it in the back.” Michael moved nothing but his mouth, his disconnection pulling Gabrielle from hers.

Ryan returned with Becca, she rubbed red welted wrists, walking with stilted steps.

They were an automaton troop, not a one of them functioning but Ryan. And poor Ryan wasn’t sure who needed him most. Inside her head, Gabrielle kissed his cheek and told him they would be fine. Outside, she let her eyes follow him, no words making themselves available when she looked for them. Disappointment and shock ate at her, pinning her under their dead weight. It was as though when Almohad fell he landed on her, crushing thought and will alike. A near god, he’d been taken out by one silver bullet. It was what they trained for, what they did. They were the best in the world, Admiral Black’s Elite. She’d done it so many times but never had it left her so empty.

“You monster!” Becca came back to life violently. She lunged at Michael, getting her hands on him before Ryan could stop her. Michael made no move to defend himself. When Ryan did pull her off, again to the soundtrack of Kenneth’s bizarre laughter, Michael’s cheek and neck bled from her nails. Made sense, with the height disparity she couldn’t get much behind a punch
.
There’s a reason girls fight like that, it works
.
Nails might not knock a man out but they burned like hell and left a mark not soon forgotten. “You killed him! You killed my dad.” She wept, going limp when Ryan’s hold around her middle had her incapacitated and, recognizing it, she no longer struggled.

“What’s she talking about, Michael?” Gabrielle pushed the words out.

But he was staring at his woman. “I didn’t kill him. I couldn’t have.” He looked sick.

“You shot him, I heard it.” Swollen eyes and tear stained cheeks made her freckles stand out, she looked ten years younger.

Michael risked a step closer. Hands clenching and unclenching at his sides gave away his nerves.

“Question.” Kenneth raised his hand, ever the asshole. “Did you kill him or not? Did you shoot him?”

“The senator couldn’t shoot, I knew that so I let him try. Becca, I had it under control.” Shocking everyone, he went to his knees before her. The rawness of his tone, the pain in his face made Gabrielle feel like an intruder. She wanted to look away but couldn’t. Ed was their ally. Michael did nothing without Black’s consent. If Black was changing the game she wanted to know.

His words penetrated. Becca’s eyes came to his. “I heard the shot. You couldn’t have missed.”

“Exactly.” He touched the back of her hand, tentative. She curled hers away. “I didn’t miss, Becca. I hit what I was aiming for. It’s a flesh wound. Enough to leave a mess but not enough to kill him.”

“Weren’t there others in the house? Why leave him wounded?” Kenneth asked a sane question. The mercurial vampire witch, could they not just kill him and get it over with? Even with Becca at her weakest at least she didn’t cause the trouble this one did.

Michael glanced up, tearing his eyes from Becca, still hanging from Ryan’s giant bear hug. “Almohad’s cocky, he doesn’t keep guards on him because he thinks he’s in control. A few outside the doors only. He was watching, he needed to see blood and hear the shot but he couldn’t see Ed’s chest. How would he know the difference between a chest shot and a shoulder?”

“You clipped him?” Gabrielle clarified, noting the life come back to Becca’s eyes. Her soul stirred from it’s coma.

“Yes.” His eyes were back on Becca’s. “I wouldn’t have done it, Becca. I would have found another way if he was any closer, I swear to you. I won’t hurt you like that. Ever.”

“Why didn’t you say?” she asked on a hoarse whisper.

“I couldn’t, he would have heard. I’m sure he’ll contact you when he can. He knows what he’s doing.” He reached again, this time she let him take her hands. A nod between them, man style, Ryan let her go and Michael stood before her. Opening his arms, he let her slide in on her own. Relief from both sides was palatable. Again, far too intimate for the others to witness. Gabrielle shifted.

“What have you been doing with him? He said you’ve been with him for months?” Gabrielle’s brain shook off more sludge.

“Black wanted me with him, to get close. We’ve been taking out his soldiers, sabotaging shipments.”

“How did you get him to trust you? He knows you’re loyal to Black.” Ryan pushed.

Turning, Michael tucked Becca under his shoulder, arm wrapped around her, wedging her tight. Doubtful more than a breeze was getting between them for a while. “We set up a few dirty junior congressmen, a dock worker, customs agent like he said. I set up the raids, they went down, it looked like he had a mole. Then we fed him a mole.”

“Who?” Becca looked up.

“Remember Jordan’s assistant he said was in the car?”

“Jordan’s alive?” The others connected the dots as sirens wailed in the distance.

Michael nodded. “Yes, he wanted an exit. I’ll tell you on the way.” He pointed at the SUV.

“What do you want with the body?” Ryan pointed at the man who’d held so many under his thumb and was now just a body on pavement.

“Grab him, toss him in the back. I’m not sure we want the world to know he’s out of commission yet, upset the balance.”

Careful not to dirty his clothes, Ryan hoisted and tossed the body in the back. Doors closed and the SUV moved out at a normal pace, entering the street behind another dark vehicle just as the first officers arrived at the scene.

Chapter 34

“He said he killed Black.” Ryan sounded worried. “Has anyone heard from him? Did Kyle get on top of the drone?”

“He’s alive.” Michael gripped the wheel, navigating the narrow streets confidently as they made their way back to the hotel.

“Did you hear from him?”

“Yes.”

He hadn’t heard from him in the sense that Black called him to tell him all was well at home. Michael knew it to be true, though it would only be tested once. When the admiral really did finally die Michael prayed he would outlive him by a few moments. To have the connection between them broken. It would kill him, but to know he died a free man, capable even for a few scant seconds to know his own mind, choose his path. He would die happy.

“Good. Then Kyle’s okay.”  Becca, huddled beside him, the shock from losing then not losing her father left her off kilter.

Not necessarily. Black was like a cockroach, nuclear warfare couldn’t take him out, he knew what crevices to hide in. Would he share? Nope. He’d lock the door in all their faces, leaving them to die, justifying it all under the banner of surviving for the greater good. After all, what would the world do without Admiral Black to keep it in balance. Oddly enough, it made a sick sort of sense. A pang, a not so gentle reminder his brand of single minded cruel efficiency was necessary in an imperfect world, halted his disloyal thoughts.

“Becca, why don’t you try to call Kyle.” He prodded gently, conscious of her fragile state.

A nod, then she pulled her phone out. Dialed, waited. And waited. Taking her phone from her ear, a sideways glance and he could see her skin go pale. This day was too much for any one person to bear. He would have to find a way to slip her more blood.

“Hello? Hello?” She whipped the phone back to her ear. “Kyle? I’m going to put you on speaker.” Hit the button. “Are you there?”

“Yeah, I’m here.”

Michael gauged the emotion in Becca’s brother’s voice or lack thereof. A human and civilian, the man did not know how to hide panic well. That they’d witnessed many times over on missions past. Kyle was genuinely unworried. This was good.

“Hey Kyle, what’s up at the estate, man?” Ryan called, leaning forward.

“It’s good. We had an order come through for the strike and we redirected it to the hill just past the hangar. We might need to sweep off the landing strip, but no damage.”

A huge crack and crash.

“What the shit?” Kyle screeched.

“Kyle!” Becca screamed.

“What’s happening?” Michael barked out.

Becca was hyperventilating, calling out to her brother.

One last ear shattering roar and the connection was gone.

“Kyle! Kyle!” Becca had gone ashen. She turned to him. “I don’t understand. Who’s calling these attacks? They’re all dead!”

A piercing pain, white hot lanced through his skull. Michael grabbed his head.

“Michael, what’s going on?” Ryan’s hand landed on his shoulder. “Becca grab the wheel! Mike, what’s going on? Talk to me.”

He groaned. “Ah, we have to go back. To the estate.”

Becca’s scent filled his nostrils as she leaned in to pull the vehicle over to the side of the street. “Michael, the brakes.” She spoke softly, the only one of the five likely to guess what was happening.

Moving one foot, he complied and they jerked to a less than graceful halt. Eyes closed, he gauged by the lack of a crash that she’d successfully navigated the narrow street and avoided anything brick and mortar.

“What happened?”

“Are you okay?”

“What’s going on, Mikey?”

The noise was needles on an already raw mind. Every syllable poked sharp on sensitive receptors.

“Is he alive?” Becca’s soft words tickled his ear. She was close. Her smell hinted of him. The blood was changing her. If he could ever think again he would decide if his blood pick me ups were worth the potential cost. For now, he would be happy if they got out of Washington without his brains turning to pudding. “Black. Is he alive?”

“I think so. But we have to go.” The pain. Black was calling him in from the field, he had to be. This wasn’t what it felt like when the connection was severed was it? Was he dying? His brain failing with the loss of its master?

“Okay.” Her scent faded, voice projected to the back seat. “Gabrielle, we have to get to the plane. Ryan, help me get him into the back?”

“Is Black doing this to him? Can he do this to all of us?” Kenneth’s query came out pitched, scared.