Keep Me Safe (2 page)

“In your fucking dreams, Storm!” A feminine voice bellows from the back office. “You’re not man enough for me, you loser.”

Storm mock scowls in the direction of her voice. Kane shakes his head. Again.
When will those two give it up and Get. It. On?
  The metal outer door creaks loudly to announce the arrival of Dalton. He sways his bulk into the main office, slumping into the nearest chair. He grunts his usual morning greeting. Both Kane and Storm arch an eyebrow in his direction.

“Don’t even ask.” He growls in response.

“Woman or Poker?” Storm sniggers.

“Woman.” Dalton smirks. “They are all fucking mad!”

Brains swings her shapely hips into the office and seats herself in the last remaining chair. Storm dances his eyes across her delicious curvy frame. She cuts him a glare. “Stop undressing me, you freak.” She snarls before the entire team erupt into their usual laughter and banter.

Chapter Two

The Feathers Public House on Broadway is within spitting distance of the headquarters of New Scotland Yard in Westminster. Famed for its real ale and old world oak interior, it is also the haunt of many a weary and jaded London Metropolitan Police Officer. DCI Jack Mercer is also no stranger to its surroundings.

Today, however, he feels more weary and jaded than is normal. He pinches the bridge of his nose and lets out a long, harsh breath as the two men approach
his table. Kane and Storm nod their greeting before seating themselves.

“So….what’s this all about, Jack?” Kane leans toward his friend, his voice guarded and low.

“Do you recall seeing a BBC documentary a few months back about the alleged cover-up of the death of a prostitute found at the home of Alexei Bortsov?”  Jack pushes a folder across the table.

Kane eyes the contents, shaking his head. “Nah. Not interested in Russian oligarchs and their nocturnal habits. Why?”

“It was a Sky Sinclair investigation. And she was definitely on to something. Something which has opened up a whole heap of shit.” Jack again pinches at the bridge of his nose.

At the mention of her name, Sky Sinclair, Kane paws a large hand to the back of his neck feeling the instantaneous tension there. She was his last SAS mission. Saving her incredible sexy ass from a hostage situation….one in which she virtually walked right into by her own die hard foolishness.

“How so?” Kane gestures for his friend to continue.

“A few days later, she starts to receive threatening letters….dead flowers and the like sent to her studio…..her tyres slashed, then her apartment got broken into a couple of nights ago. She also thinks she was followed while out on her morning run. She is accustomed to having the odd threat but this has shaken her up. It was decided to place her in a Safe House while we take on the investigation.  She was definitely onto something.”

“Ok. So where do we fit in? Sounds like you have it covered.” Kane and Storm share eye contact in agreement.

Jack leans further forward across the table, his voice low and harsh. “The Safe House was attacked last night. Her safety has been severely compromised. She’s unharmed. It was a definite hit and it reeks of Russian mob. And somehow they knew exactly where to find her.”

The two ex-SAS men shoot a questioning look. “Where is she now?” Storm growls.

“My place. Yeah, I know. But I had no alternative. I couldn’t risk another Safe House. So, apart from you too, only the Head of Command and DCI John Keaton know where she is. He’s with her now but we need to move her fast. The Russians are probably already on to us. That’s where you come in. Are you in?” Jack searches for an agreement.

“Sure. We can move her for you. To where?” Kane shrugs.

“No, not just move her. Keep her safe. Take her to one of your Safe Houses. I know you have one, maybe two. And watch over her until we’re through with the investigation.” Jack leans back into the worn leather chair releasing a heavy sigh. “Well? Are you in?”

***

Kane grips the steering wheel of the Brabus Mercedes G Wagon until his knuckles ache
and visibly discolour. His face is set hard with tension. Beside him, Storm clasps a hand over his sniggering mouth. Kane shoots him a glare.

“Come on, Man. What could be worse than being holed up in the Cornwall house with a fucking smoking hot woman for a few weeks?” Storm offers a laugh to lighten Kane’s mood.

“She might be smoking hot by your definition but the woman seems to think she’s Indiana Jones or fucking John McClane. If you want the job, be my fucking guest. I’ll take over babysitting the Congressman when he arrives tomorrow.” Kane snaps.

“Nah. I got that, boss. After your last meeting, you and the lovely Sky need to make friends.”

“Fuck you, Storm.” Kane swings the vehicle into the industrial estate housing Elite Defence Inc.

Exactly thirty minutes later, Kane has briefed the team, packed a holdall, and is stood listing off the necessary armament. He and Storm will ‘collect’ the goods from Jack Mercer’s home at 13.30 hours as arranged. They jump back into the vehicle and head out towards Greenwich. At 13.28, the Brabus snakes its way along Trafalgar Road, both men eyeing every inch of the street. Storm fingers the Sig Sauer P226 strapped tightly into his shoulder holster as they pull towards their destination.

***

As the two heavy, muscular men power through the entrance to my temporary safe haven inside DCI Jack Mercer’s personal residence, my heart literally leaps into my mouth. I’m not used to feeling fear but at this moment, fear is the only feeling I know. The only warning that DCI John Keaton and I had was a brief call from Jack to say the ‘goods’ were being picked up and transferred. I know, from experience, that I am the goods.

One of the men immediately heads to the window, and crouching, positions himself there. He is a hulk of a man, several inches over six feet. His biceps strain against the material of his t-shirt as he keeps a tight hold of the gun in his holster. His eyes continuously survey the exterior of the building.

His partner stands large over me. His eyes are dark and focussed, staring intently in my direction. He nods to John before ushering me to gather all my belongings. I have exactly 2 minutes he informs me and it is the only form of communication that is offered before I am bundled into the back of an imposing vehicle. We speed off weaving our way through the early afternoon traffic as I remain huddled in a tight ball on the back seat.

Eventually, after what seems like hours, I recognise that we are pulling into a service station. I hold my position until the right hand door of the rear doors is opened and I am ushered out. I am surprised to be met by a very pretty woman of similar age to myself. She smiles kindly at me and extends a warm hand.

“Hi, Ms Sinclair. I’m May or Brains as the guys call me. You ok? Come on, we’ll grab a coffee while we make the exchange. Afterwards, you will head across country with Kane to our Safe House.”

I stretch myself out of my cramped muscles and follow her and the two men inside Camberley Service Station. Once inside, I am ushered into a booth in the corner of the restaurant area. A third man nods towards me, and as with his colleagues, there is no communication offered. Inside, I am beginning to freak out but I know I must try to remain calm. Slowly, we are all seated as May/Brains places a tray of coffees on the table.

A young boy rushes towards our table and is suddenly halted by the large hand of the man with the goatee beard. “She’s not talking today, kid. Go back to your mum and dad.” He talks quietly but firmly.

The young boy pouts out his bottom lip. “But….but, you are Sky Sinclair, aren’t you?” He looks directly at my face. I nod quietly offering a small smile.

Frustration bubbles at the surface. I throw a look at the man to my right. “Will someone tell me what is happening? Are you Police Officers? And where are we going? I have a right to be kept informed.”

All three men stare blankly at me. I scowl at each in turn. Somehow I will get a reaction and someone will speak to me.  May laughs lightly before reaching towards me. “No, we’re not Police Officers, Sky. We’re private security and that’s all I can say for now. I know you are probably freaking out right now but you have to trust us, okay?” She snorts loudly in the direction of each of her colleagues before continuing. She gestures towards the man on my right. “This is Kane. We all work for him. He will be staying with you at the Safe House and ensuring you are kept safe. The man mountain to your left is Storm, and this is Dalton. I am May as I said but the guys call me Brains, for obvious reasons.” She laughs lightly again.

I exchange a look with Kane. There is something strangely familiar about him but I cannot figure why. But I know I have looked into those eyes before. Deep, darkest brown almost black eyes surrounded by densely thick eyelashes. On any other occasion rather than this very one, those eyes would cause instant fluttering in the depth of my sex.

We drink our coffees in silence before Kane gestures to the others that we are on the move again. He grabs my hand firmly pulling me out of the booth. I try to shake free, instead preferring to walk beside him, but he holds me tighter throwing me a silent warning look. I increase my pace to match his strides towards the Brabus. I am gestured into the passenger seat and, without another word to his team, we head out towards the exit and onto the motorway.

Chapter Three

A couple of hours have passed and the silence in the car is deafening. There is a top of the range music system, I notice, but it would appear he prefers to drive in silence. Occasionally, to pass the time, I steal a glance in his direction. I take in his large muscular form and the square strong jawline, framed by the dark goatee beard. I cannot deny he is very handsome, easy on the eye.
Apart from the beard. I don’t do beards.
He has some form of tribal tattoo reaching from his wrist up the entire length of his arm, and I silently amuse myself by wondering where it leads to. I stifle a smirk. The last few harrowing days are finally taking their toll on me. Soon, I will be giggling like a hysterical banshee.

“Something amusing you?” Kane throws a glance in my direction.

“Oh, you do speak.” I retort, rather more sarcastically than I had envisaged.

He throws me another look but offers no further discussion.