Hot Shot (A Hostile Operations Team Novel)(#5) (10 page)

“What’s the plan now?” she asked, and he recognized the hard-assed businesswoman taking control. It was how she dealt with the world. Her gaze flickered over him and her green eyes grew as hard as marbles. But then she was looking at Matt again and waiting for an answer.

“Nothing we can do except wait for them to call,
chère.
We’ve got a command center set up next door, and we’ll be monitoring the equipment twenty-four seven. When they call, just keep them on the phone as long as possible. We’ll do the rest.”

She pressed the heels of her hands to her eyes and he got the sense she was trying not to cry again. “All right,” she said a moment later. And then she looked at him again and his gut twisted. “What if they never call? What if this is some sick plot to hurt me and they never intend to give my baby back?”

Jack had to clear his throat. “You’re rich and famous, Gina. They want money.”

Everyone agreed. The women came over and gave Gina hugs. “It’s been a long day for you,” Evie said. “I think maybe we should leave you to rest.”

Gina nibbled her lower lip and he knew she was working to control herself. “Thanks so much for coming with me tonight. And I’m sorry about earlier.”

Olivia and Georgie made shushing noises at the same time. “Already forgotten,” Olivia said.

“We’ve got your back, darlin’,” Georgie added, sounding an awful lot like Sam.
 

Gina nodded. Evie looked at Matt. “I guess you know we’re staying with you guys tonight.”

Matt didn’t even argue. “Yeah, figured that. It’s a suite and there are a couple of connecting rooms.” He took Evie’s hand and they went out the door with the others. Jack stayed where he was, hands still in his pockets. Someone had to stay with Gina and it was understood that someone would be him.

The door closed and the room was suddenly silent. Gina sank into a chair and laid her head back against the seat. “Do I need to ask why you’re still here?”

“I’m not leaving, Gina.”

Her eyes flashed. “You aren’t sleeping with me either.”

He snorted. “I think we both know that already.”

She let her gaze slide over him. “So did you take care of the problem?”

“There is no problem. I’m a man. I’m used to unrequited boners. Doesn’t mean a damn thing.”

She arched an eyebrow. “Seriously? You, used to unrequited boners? I’d have thought you had a string of willing women standing outside your door.”

He shoved a hand through his hair. “Can we just cut the crap? It’s not safe for you to be alone, and I’m the most logical person to be here. He’s my kid too.”

She deflated like a popped balloon. All the fight went right out of her, and he realized how exhausting it must be to keep up the pretense of toughness long beyond the point where you had to be ready to scream.

“Before you say anything else, I don’t wear what I wear on stage in order to turn men on. I wear it because it’s what I think is best for my brand. And it’s none of your goddamned business.”

“You told me you were tired of the dance numbers and the direction people were pushing you in. That was three years ago. If it hasn’t changed, then you have no one to blame but yourself.”

She nibbled on a fingernail. “I can’t change it overnight. And I basically dropped out for two years, so if I have a prayer in hell of keeping my career, I have to keep some of the dance numbers and the high energy. Barry’s right that I can’t just change everything. What if they don’t like me anymore?”

He could only stare at her in disbelief. She was fucking amazing. She had a real voice, not a manufactured one. She didn’t rely on audio processors to make herself sound good. He’d like to wrap his hands around Barry’s throat for holding her back.
 

“I can’t believe your fans would abandon you, Gina. It’s more than dancing and a stage show that keeps them buying your records.”

She closed her eyes. “I don’t tell you how to shoot a gun, or any of that other super-spy stuff you do, so don’t tell me how to do my business, all right?”

She had a point, though he still thought she was wrong. “All right.”

He’d thought she would rest, but she shot up off the chair and marched across the room. She wasn’t wearing her heels anymore, which made her much shorter than the five-nine she’d appeared to be earlier. He’d forgotten how much smaller than him she was.

But, man, she had a body that wouldn’t quit. He dragged his eyes off her breasts and made himself watch her face.

“Why don’t they call?” she burst out, throwing her hands out wide. “It’s been six hours since they took him. Six fucking hours!”

Jack wished he had an answer for her but he didn’t know what the kidnappers’ endgame was. All they could do was wait to find out.

And that didn’t sit any better with him than it did with her. He was accustomed to being patient, to spending hours or days crawling into position to take the shot. He was used to waiting for a target to appear in his crosshairs.
 

But not this time. This time he wanted to charge in and take the bastards out with a barrel against their temples. He wanted to see their eyes when they realized they were done for.

He was seething with hot energy and ready to act. Just as she was.

Yet there was nothing they could do but wait.

“They’ll call when they’re ready. This is part of the game.”

She glared at him. “You said your team didn’t handle kidnappings. How do you know?”

“I said we didn’t handle
domestic
kidnappings.” In fact, they dealt with hostage situations all the time. But not in the States where other agencies had jurisdiction—unless the kidnapping was due to terrorism, and then they could be called in.

Her eyes were shiny but he knew she wouldn’t cry this time. She was too angry to cry. “How do you deal with this? The waiting?”

“Honestly, I’ve never had to deal with it like this. I don’t know the people we’re sent to rescue. They aren’t usually children either.”

Though it had happened, certainly. Just a few months ago, they’d had a situation where an American family was taken hostage by guerillas while traveling in South America. They’d gone in hard and Jack had taken out six militants in the space of seconds. The rest of the team had mopped up the other bad guys, they’d rescued the family, then bugged out to the extraction point. In and out and done.

“You think I should have called the FBI.”

Yeah, he’d thought that when he first arrived. And he knew it changed after she dropped a bomb on him. But it wasn’t just that the kid was also his. It was her utter conviction that she needed him to help her. And then the guys had dropped everything to come analyze the situation, and his gut feeling that this was something other than a kidnapping only grew stronger.

“I did think so. I don’t anymore.”

“Do you think this has anything to do with the threats?”

His gut had twisted reading the initial reports of the threats against her. Men—and maybe some women—who thought she was their soul mate and wanted to claim her. People who hated her and wanted her dead. People who thought she owed them something because they were positive she’d written songs about their lives.

Most were traceable, and most were crackpots. But there were always a couple that couldn’t be identified, and those were worrisome in their own way. However, none of them indicated a mind capable of a plan this intricate, though they had yet to see the original letters. The security company had them and would be sending them over in the morning.

“I don’t know for certain, but I don’t think so.” Her security contractor had been thorough in their investigation of the threats, but there was always a chance they’d missed something.

Gina’s cell phone blared then and she jumped. Jack’s heart rate shot up. Her eyes were wide as she snatched the phone from the table where she’d put it.

“I don’t recognize the number.”

“Answer it, Gina. Be calm. Keep them on the phone and find out what they want. Ask for proof of life—shit, don’t phrase it that way or they’ll know you’ve got someone on your side. Just ask for proof they didn’t harm him.”

She nodded. He could see the pulse thrumming in her neck as she slid the answer bar. “Hello.”

Her eyes widened as she stared at him, and she nodded hard. Her eyes were glassy as tears welled. “I’ll do anything you want. But you have to give me proof you didn’t hurt him. I want to know my baby is okay.”

Jack wanted to hear what they were saying but they’d agreed earlier that she shouldn’t put it on speaker. That was a sure sign she had help, and people could always tell when speaker mode was enabled. They couldn’t take the chance. But Billy had tapped her phone and the guys were listening in the other room. He had faith they’d get something.

“Baby,” Gina cried out. “Sweetheart, don’t be scared. Mommy’s coming. Mommy’s coming.”

She put a shaky hand to her lips and tried to hold in the sob that he knew was threatening. The kidnappers must have taken Eli away from the phone.

“Yes,” she said. “I understand. Vegas. The Venetian. I’ll be there.”

* * *

“Couldn’t get a lock on them,” Billy Blake said. “Fuck!”
 

He slammed a hand on the table. Olivia stood behind him and put her arms around his neck.
 

Jack’s gut rolled with fear and anger. “Do we even know if they’re really in Vegas?”

Gina had said the postmarks on the vilest of the letters she’d gotten had often been from Vegas. It was too strong a coincidence to completely ignore, but that still didn’t mean whoever had done this was really in Sin City.
 

He’d brought Gina next door as soon as they’d gotten off the phone. She’d been shaking and on the verge of hyperventilating when he’d taken her hand and pulled her with him. No way in hell was he leaving her while he went to check in with the guys.

Jack glanced at Gina. Her eyes were glassy and her hands were over her mouth as if she were trying to hold all her feelings inside. He knew what that felt like. He’d been just where she was when his CO and the Red Cross came to inform him that Hayley was dead—trying to hold it all in and knowing he was going to blow at any moment.

He put his arm around her and pulled her against him. She didn’t try to move away, which told him she was feeling it pretty hard.

“I can’t say for certain,” Billy said.

Matt swore. “We can’t take military transport to get there.”

Jack knew that. It wasn’t a military operation and they weren’t authorized. And while they weren’t precisely authorized to do this either, it didn’t involve commandeering a government asset as large as an airplane.
 

“Can’t you call Mendez?” Evie asked. Her eyes were filled with tears too. Jack knew this must bring up bad memories for her considering that her sister had been kidnapped last summer.
 

“It’s not official use,” Jack said.

“Fuck that,” Lucky MacDonald said. “There’s got to be a way.”

Gina stirred against his side. He got the feeling she’d zoned out there for a bit, but she was trying to work her way back to the conversation. “I have a plane,” she said, her voice scratchy and soft.

Jack’s stomach fell. Not in a bad way, but in a holy-shit-they-weren’t-fucked way. He tipped her chin up and forced her to look at him. A tear slid from her eye and rolled down her cheek. He had a strong desire to kiss it away. He swallowed the urge.

“You have a plane, babe? A plane big enough for all of us?”
 

“It’s a 737.”

“If it’s a charter, you’ll have to—”

“It’s mine.”

Holy shit. He was reeling here. Just fucking reeling. This woman owned a goddamned Boeing 737. The rest of the guys whooped.

“That’s it. We’re breaking it down and getting on that fucking plane,” Matt said.

“Shit yeah,” Big Mac added.

Relief threatened to make Jack’s legs buckle. She had a plane and they weren’t dead in the water. There was still a chance to save their son.

CHAPTER TEN

THE VENETIAN SAT ON the Vegas strip, a large copy of all the best of Venice in the middle of a desert, but without the timeworn feel or unique charm of the Italian city itself. Gina was impatient to get there. Jack’s team had played back the conversation she’d had with the gruff-voiced man who’d told her that she’d better get out to Vegas or she’d never see her child again. They’d gleaned nothing new from it, unfortunately.

Her heart twisted as she remembered Eli’s voice. He’d been crying, and that had broken her heart and pissed her off all at the same time. Bastards. She would kill them if she ever got her hands on them.

Jack sat beside her in the limo that raced them from the airport to the city. He was quiet and focused, and she wished she could reach out and grab his hand for comfort. He’d been with her every step of the way. And his miraculous band of military badasses was there too, going ahead of them in a van loaded with equipment. The women—except for Lucky—had stayed behind in DC. Gina kind of wished they’d come along too. She didn’t make friends easily, and while she wouldn’t call them her friends just yet, she liked how strong and no-nonsense they all were.