Authors: Kaylea Cross
Tags: #Romantic Suspense, #Military, #Suspense, #Mystery & Suspense, #Romance
The guy started babbling, his voice strained as he tried to wriggle into a more comfortable position. Ethan didn’t let up, kept interrogating him. When the man had told him what he wanted to know, Ethan turned to Tuck. “He says four. Down in the bunker. Perez is there.”
He climbed to his feet, dragging the prisoner with him. After handing him off to another agent, Ethan crossed the room to stand behind Blackwell, last in line of the seven-man team.
This was the most dangerous part of the op. Alvarez and the others would be heavily armed and knew they were coming. In the few minutes it had taken to secure this room, their target and his henchmen would have had plenty of time to fortify their position.
As expected, the reinforced door leading to the basement was dead bolted shut. Evers placed more charges. He blew the door and Tuck began clearing the stairwell. He raised his right fist, signaling for them to halt. As the others shifted aside, Ethan saw why.
A tripwire was strung across the stairs at knee level. They stepped over it carefully, followed their team leader’s movements as they moved down the stairs.
At the bottom they fanned out into two teams to clear the basement. Vance found another tripwire beneath the rug hiding the steel trapdoor leading to the underground bunker.
Ethan trained his weapon on the door while Tuck and Vance worked to dismantle the wire, attached to the pin of a frag grenade. Crude, but effective, if they hadn’t seen it.
Who knew what other surprises waited for them on the other side of that trapdoor.
When all was ready, Tuck gave the signal. They used a grappling tool to yank the trapdoor open. Everyone stayed back and got low.
Sure as hell, the moment the door cleared the opening, gunfire erupted from inside it.
A round whizzed past Ethan’s head, close enough that he heard the high-pitched whine as it passed by.
Motherfucker…
Schroder was closest to the opening. He tossed a gas canister in and Tuck lobbed in a flashbang, then another for good measure. The firing slowed immediately, grew sporadic. Tuck and Schroder both took aim at the opening.
One of them fired. Someone below bellowed in pain. A moment later Tuck stepped back. “Someone’s coming up,” he said, his voice clear through the earpiece Ethan wore.
A man’s head and shoulders appeared in the opening. He was coughing, scrubbing blindly at his face. Schroder kicked out at the man’s hand, knocking the pistol out of his grip.
Bauer lunged over, grabbed the guy by the wrist and hauled him out of the hole like he weighed no more than a sack of flour, and dumped him on the concrete floor. Tuck was still standing over the trapdoor, weapon trained on it.
When the man on the floor turned his head, Ethan realized it was their primary target, the lieutenant, Alvarez, and ran over to help secure him. Not that Bauer couldn’t handle the guy by himself, but it sped the process up and they needed everyone on their weapons right now.
Alvarez was wearing a ballistic vest. Ethan yanked the flex cuffs tight around the man’s wrists at the small of his back, was just going for his ankles when Tuck’s warning shout made his scalp prickle.
“Grenade!”
He turned his head in time to see it hit the floor near him, bounce over to the far wall. He dropped the tango’s feet, shifted his weight to dive away, when Bauer reached down. Bauer grabbed Ethan with one big hand and wrenched him off his feet.
They landed on the floor together, Bauer’s chest hitting Ethan’s shoulder as they rolled toward the opposite wall. The grenade exploded, the force of it rattling Ethan’s ears, pounding through his whole body. Something hit him in the back, between his shoulder blades.
Ears ringing, he struggled to his hands and knees. Bauer was rolling away from him. Ethan immediately turned to his teammate, grabbed him.
Shit that was close
. He didn’t feel any pain but he knew damn well he’d been hit. Had to be the adrenaline masking it.
“You okay?” he demanded, locking a hand on Bauer’s shoulder.
He couldn’t hear anything over the ringing in his ears, but he could read Bauer’s lips as he responded. “Yeah.” Bauer checked him over the same way. “I’m good. You?”
“Fine.” How was that possible? His heart was pounding, his breathing erratic. He glanced back at the others. Vance was hauling someone else out of the trapdoor. Tuck and Blackwell had two other men already on their bellies, hands secured behind them.
All four tangos here accounted for and secured.
His gaze strayed to Alvarez, still near the corner of the room. His eyes were open but there were fist-sized holes all over him from the fragments the grenade had thrown out.
Sucked for Marisol and everyone involved in the prosecution for Fuentes’s trial who’d wanted Alvarez’s confession and subsequent testimony they’d been hoping for, but at least his drug and weapon running days were over. And they might be able to get vital information from Alvarez’s lackeys.
“Clear,” Tuck called out, and Ethan could hear him a bit easier now that the ringing was fading.
Ethan took a deep breath, ordered himself to calm down.
You’re good. You’re good. Just a close call.
He got to his feet, his legs a little unsteady. Tuck and Blackwell headed down into the bunker while Vance kept watch from above.
Schroder came up to Ethan. “You okay, man?”
He nodded. “Yep.” Hell of a lot better than Alvarez.
Their medic asked Bauer the same thing, got a terse reply, then went over to check Alvarez. He set his fingers beneath the man’s jaw, looked up at Ethan. “Dead.” Not a surprise.
Good. Fucking prick almost killed me.
And then, unbidden, an image of Marisol’s face came to mind. The fact that he was thinking of her at all right now surprised him.
But he could see her so clearly. The way her eyes glowed when she smiled. The smoldering desire in them when they’d kissed tonight. He could have died a minute ago, without ever getting the chance to explore the connection between them.
Shelving everything for later, he worked with the others to secure the rest of the house. Down in the bunker they found discarded gasmasks, body armor, a stockpile of automatic weapons, and a safe holding half a million in cash.
Once he was topside again, Ethan exited the house and pulled off his gasmask. He headed straight down the driveway, now crowded with FBI and DEA agents, and sucked in deep breaths of the cool night air.
The shakes had him now. Little vibrations ripping through all his muscles. The more he fought them, the worse they got, so he let them run their course, glad for the privacy of the darkness.
His teammates followed him out to the street, didn’t say anything as they gathered around their two vehicles. Ethan set his weapon into the back of one and kept walking. He had to keep moving, had to burn off the haze of shock and adrenaline playing havoc with his system.
Holy fuck, he’d almost died in there. Would have, if Bauer hadn’t wrenched him away when he had.
Vance eyed him as he made another pass of the SUV. Then his gaze landed on Ethan’s back and his eyes widened. “Whoa. Hold up, man.”
Ethan stopped. “What?”
“Just stay still.” Vance set a hand on Ethan’s shoulder, ran his hand over the back of his Kevlar vest. “Holy shit, dude.” He ripped the Velcro fasteners free. Ethan pulled the thing off and flipped it around, stunned to see the fist-sized hole in the center of the back plate.
His stomach clenched. He swallowed, took in the visual evidence of just how close he’d come to meeting his maker tonight. He’d had a near miss before, back in his days in the Corps on a mission in Afghanistan. Since then he’d been lucky. They all knew the risks of the job, but it was still a sobering thing, to be faced with your mortality like that.
Bauer whistled and came over to examine the vest. “That’s gnarly, man.”
Gnarly. Yeah. Ethan clapped a hand to the big guy’s shoulder. “Thanks, man.”
Bauer shrugged. “No worries, brother.”
The others all gathered around to inspect the vest. Tuck made an impressed sound. “That one’s definitely going in our museum.” They had a collection of things they’d saved from previous ops and training missions back at headquarters in Quantico. Little mementos of their work together. Ethan didn’t really want to see the vest again, let alone every time he went into the office.
“First round’s on Cruzie,” Schroder announced, slapping Ethan on the back. He hid a wince as his friend’s hand hit the bruise forming where the fragment had nearly torn through the vest.
“Only one round for you guys,” Ethan said, breathing a little easier now with his teammates around him. “But I’m buying Bauer a freaking truckload of beer as soon as I get home.”
On the way back to base they were all quiet. Ethan rode in the back with Vance, Tuck driving and Blackwell in the shotgun seat. They all knew how shaken he was and were giving him the space to deal with it the best way he knew how. So he thought about Marisol.
He needed to see her.
The thought was loud in his head, impossible to ignore.
He wanted to touch her, kiss her, drink her in. Wanted to feel her arms around him, her silken skin against his. The desire was overwhelming, and not something he intended to fight. He could see himself having a real relationship with her, if she was willing.
As soon as the debriefing and paperwork were done, he was heading out to see her.
Chapter Eleven
Supervisory Special Agent Matt DeLuca’s eyes snapped open at the whir of the mechanism in his hotel room lock turning.
He rolled to his side in the darkness, automatically reaching for the pistol he’d placed on the bedside table. His hand closed around the grip just as the door cracked open to reveal a slender silhouette backlit by the hallway lights.
He’d know the shape of that lithe female body anywhere.
He released the pistol, a smile curving his mouth as his reached up to switch on the bedside lamp, flooding the room with warm light.
Briar closed the door behind her and gave him a sultry smile, a small duffel in one hand and a garment bag draped over one shoulder. “Hey.”
“You made it,” he said, rolling out of the bed and stalking toward her completely naked.
It had been almost three weeks since they’d last seen each other. With their work schedules, too often they ended up like ships passing in the night. He’d texted her earlier tonight but she hadn’t responded. After a while he’d managed to fall asleep but a niggling doubt had kept waking him. Seeing her in person helped dispel the feeling, but didn’t erase it completely.
“Hmmm,” she replied, her dark gaze raking over the length of his body appreciatively. “Surprise.”
“Best surprise I’ve had in a long time.” When he reached her she dropped her bags and twined her arms around his neck, pressing full length against him. Matt crushed her to him. He buried his face in the curve of her throat and breathed her in, detecting the earthy scents of grass, soil and fresh air on her skin. Wherever she’d been, she’d definitely worked outside tonight.
Being concealed in a hide, camouflaged by elements taken from the surrounding foliage and operating under cover of darkness, was a sniper’s realm. And Briar was just as much an expert at all those things as he was.
Blocking that thought for now, he slid his hands into the fall of her thick, cool hair. He cupped the back of her head in a possessive grip and brought his mouth down on hers. The kiss was an expression of pure hunger, a stamp of possession. It’d been too long since he’d touched her, tasted her.
You’re mine.
Briar made a soft sound of pleasure in the back of her throat that shot straight to his groin. She opened to him, her hands moving to his shoulders then she hopped up to wind her legs around his waist. He caught her, locked an arm around her hips to hold her in place as he slid his tongue along hers.
She tasted like heaven, the sleek, supple feel of her body going to his head. Every time he touched her he always craved more. She was a stark contrast of strength and femininity that he found mesmerizing. He couldn’t get enough of her.
With their mouths still fused, tongues twining, he spun and walked back to the bed then lowered her to the sheet. He stretched out on top of her. Immediately she arched into him, rolling her hips against his throbbing erection.
Matt groaned into her mouth and stroked his cock over her covered mound once, twice, teasing them both with the promise of more before breaking the kiss. He wanted her so much he ached, but he needed answers first. And if he kissed her again before asking what he needed to, he’d wind up drowning in her and lose the ability to think at all. She had that much power over him.
Staring down at her, noting with satisfaction the flush of arousal across the bronzed skin of her cheekbones and the desire blazing in her eyes, he marveled once again that this woman was his. They’d only been living together for a few months but he knew she was the one he wanted to spend the rest of his life with. After his first wife died he’d been certain he’d never be able to fall in love again. Then Briar had burst into his life and proved him wrong.
“When did you get into Miami?” he murmured, sweeping his thumbs across her temples. He knew she’d been operating in Florida for the past week, but not where or what exactly she’d been up to.
She tightened her legs around his waist, gently ran her nails over his scalp in the way she knew gave him shivers. “Been here for a few days already. Just couldn’t get away until now.”
He didn’t comment on that part, because her new job as a contract agent for the NSA demanded she keep certain details about operations from him. He had to keep things from her too sometimes. But now the suspicion in his gut had taken root and wouldn’t let go.
After the intel he’d received on Garcia an hour ago from Agent Lammers, and since then confirmed by Celida through Tuck, Matt had to wonder. Briar was as deadly as she was beautiful. She definitely had the skillset for tonight’s hit. And he’d promised his boss he’d ask. “Where were you tonight?”