Navy SEAL Noel (12 page)

Sal sat on the car and tilted his face toward the morning sun like a man who had been in solitary confinement for a year instead of in a cell overnight.

“You're an adult now. This is on your permanent record.”

Sal nodded slowly, several ripples popping up on his forehead. “I guess so.”

Will pushed an elbow into Sal's side. “So? Why'd you take the rap for me?”

Identical brown eyes locked in a silent stalemate. “Because Dad wasn't kidding when he said one more run-in with the cops and you'd be going to military school next year.”

Searching for the right response, Will glared at his crossed arms. Sal was right. His dad had made the threat clear. It didn't matter if Will's juvenile rap sheet was made up of minor vandalism infractions. One more trip home in the back of a cop car and Will was bound for Texas and the Trident Military Academy, a private institute for young men. The headmaster was a retired navy SEAL and an old friend of their father's, and the school was supposed to be...intense. To say the least.

“You may make me want to pound you into the ground sometimes, but you're still my brother.”

“You think I couldn't hack it at military school?” Will asked, as casually as he could manage, wondering what his brother really thought of him. When Sal looked at him, did he see nothing more than a reckless screwup, the way their father did?

“If you wanted to be there, I think you'd do just fine. But if you were sent there as a punishment? With Dad's friend riding roughshod over you every day? It wouldn't end well. I want better than that for you. Besides, Jess would kill me if I let you get sent away. For some inconceivable reason, she likes having you around, and I like having
her
around.”

Will chuckled. That was the understatement of the century. His brother had been head over heels for Jess for at least a year. Everyone knew it.

Sal had taken the blame for an inappropriate message spray-painted on an overpass and saved Will from the military academy. It was just one of a dozen times that Sal had saved him over the years and it had cemented in Will's mind the knowledge that he could never repay his brother. So he'd vowed to get his act together. At least until he was done with high school.

The unconscious man's head rolled, and he let out a low groan, bringing Will back to the present and the anger still boiling just beneath his skin.

It didn't matter how many times Will kissed Jess. She would never be his, because Sal deserved better. Even eighteen-year-old, selfish Will had known that. Twenty-eight-year-old Will, who had learned what brotherhood meant from men like L. T. Sawyer and Rock Waterstone and Luke Dunham, was sure of it. They laid down their lives for their SEAL brothers every day, and they'd taught him to do the same.

Will just had to get Jess out of here in one piece, and then he could forget about that kiss. And walk out of her life.

Until then, he had to know who this guy was. It was too dark for Will to be certain he could identify the intruder in the light of day. He could think of only one surefire way to keep the thug on the radar.

With a quick pop of Will's fist, the guy cried out, his head bouncing off the wall at his back before sagging to the side. The black eye would be easy for Jess and him to spot.

A grin crept across Will's face.

And it felt pretty good to give, too.

TEN

W
ill followed Sergio into the lab the next morning, his stomach a strange jumble of uncertainty. He'd dreamed of Jess during his short respite, but the smooth perfection of her profile in reality made his dream seem two-dimensional and black-and-white.

She was already at work, measuring teaspoons of white powder into a metal bowl. Her eyes didn't leave the measuring spoon, and she didn't pause to greet him.

“Morning,” he said.

She gave a curt nod by way of reply, all the time mouthing the count of her measurements.

She looked about as eager to engage with him as he was to spend another muggy night in this pit.

Instead of addressing the elephant in the room, he slipped his apron over his head and snapped his gloves into place. “How can I help?”

Jess pointed to the air compressor in the corner. The round tank sat on four wheels, a motor, fan and dials attached to the top. “We'd better test that out and make sure it actually works.”

He did as she asked, moving over to the machine, plugging it into the wall and turning it on. It sputtered, as old as everything else in the lab, but finally settled into a steady hum that competed with the air conditioner for supremacy in noise pollution.

Grabbing the nozzle at the end of the black rubber hose, Will pressed the lever. A stream of air released with a loud hiss and a jerk of the tube.

“Looks like it'll work to me.”

Jess nodded and motioned for him to bring it over, the muscles in her neck visibly straining.

Sergio's eyes followed Will as he bent and rolled the machine across the floor, every third step earning a squeak from a wheel. When he reached her, she was scooping the mixed powder into one of the cleaned tear gas canisters. She weighed it on an electronic scale several times, and when she was satisfied, screwed the stopper and detonation mechanism into place. It looked like a miniature fire extinguisher, and it would work nearly the same way.

Will waited for Jess to say something, to break her silence as she worked. But with every tick of the clock on the wall, taking them closer to their date with El Jefe and the demonstration he demanded, she drew further away.

Finally, he reached for her, resting his hand on her back. She didn't flinch or push him off, so he leaned in a bit closer. “Jess, tell me what you're thinking.”

She sighed and rubbed her gloved hands over her arms. “This is a precursor to what they want to do with the toxin.” She shot a glance at Manuel, who was watching her as closely as Sergio was. “What if this is enough? What if they can use this to unleash death on an entire camp?”

“They won't risk it without you.”

“But they have me.”

“Not for long.” Will hoped his smile masked the uncertainty that burned through his chest.

Her nose wrinkled and her lips pursed. “We only have three days.”

“Which means we'll be gone in two.”

“How?”

Such a simple question with no simple answer. If he knew how, they'd already be gone. But jumping the wall, knowing there were snares out there, would be stupid. Doing it with a cartel on their tail would be a suicide mission.

They had to get free with a head start. And preferably an extraction plan in place.

“I'm still working on it.”

He mentally ticked off the intel they'd collected so far.

He was getting a pretty good sense of the guard rotations. They worked eight-hour shifts, changing at midnight, eight in the morning and four in the afternoon, never leaving the front gate unattended. The guardhouses at the top of the wall were a little harder to gauge. Sometimes they were occupied, and sometimes he just couldn't tell. Of course, there were also a hundred other thugs roaming the compound who couldn't be accounted for at any given point in time.

He and Jess had seen the map of the area. He hadn't had time to memorize it, but he'd gained a pretty good sense of where they were and how far west they needed to go.

But he also knew there was something waiting for them on the other side of those walls. Whatever it was could be better than what they faced inside. Or it could be a whole lot worse.

It was a risk they were going to have to take.

And the big question still loomed. How were they going to get the Morsyni out of the lab? He glanced at the window, which had been shut by someone else in the past couple days. If whoever had closed it connected the open window to his absence from his room two nights prior, this lab was going to be under surveillance 24/7.

“I'm going to figure something out,” he whispered. “I promise.”

She nodded, picking up the can and checking the small dial at the base of the neck. “Turn that on for me?” Her chin indicated the compressor.

He did as she asked, as she squeezed the release handle of the container. If there had been any air pressure inside, it would have released everything inside the tin.

“All right.” She squeezed her eyes closed and bit the inside of her cheek. “I want you to put the nozzle against the opening here.” She tapped it with her finger. “When I tell you to, start the air. But whatever you do, don't pull it away until I let go of the handle. Got it?”

Will nodded, and Sergio and Manuel leaned forward.

“Now!” Jess said, and he rammed the compressor's nozzle into place. It all seemed to take just a second before she released the handle and shoved in a pin to keep it from accidentally going off.

If the pin was pulled and the handle held down, then the canister would release. Just like a grenade.

For this trial run, with a nontoxic mix inside, it was safe. But it wouldn't be when Juan Carlos returned.

Just as Will pushed the machine into a corner and out of the way, the lab door blew open, revealing a slim man. With a black eye.

Jess glanced up, but clearly didn't recognize him.

“Ready?” His voice was gruff. “El Jefe is waiting for your demonstration.”

“Almost.” Jess picked up the canister and looked into Will's face.

This was his only chance to warn her before they marched outside. Turning his back to their guards and El Jefe's lackey, Will leaned to push the compressor farther into the corner. In a barely audible whisper, he said, “The man with the black eye was your visitor last night. Be careful.”

* * *

Jess was going to be sick.

Doubling over, she leaned her forehead against the cool counter, gasping the thick air even as it threatened to choke her.

“Hey. It's okay.” Will rubbed her back in perfect circles.

But it wasn't okay. It was all too much.

Forced to do a test run for the release of a toxin that would kill hundreds, maybe thousands. The man who had stolen into her room in the dead of night only feet away.

A sweeping, sure knowledge that she wasn't going to make Christmas with her dad.

Tears pooled in her eyes, and she knuckled them away.

She wouldn't let herself break down.

She
wouldn't.

After gulping three quick breaths and swallowing as many hiccuping sobs, she pressed her gloved hands to her cheeks and squared her shoulders.

Her dad had taught her to be a good sailor, both on the water and off. And right now that required a rigid backbone and a stiff upper lip. Forcing her fists down to her sides, she shrugged off Will's hand at her elbow.

“Let's just get this over with.”

“All right.” He motioned for her to take the lead. “After you.”

She marched past the man with a black eye without even acknowledging him. He glared at her, his hand absently rubbing the back of his head. If she had her wrench, she'd remind him just who he had tried to mess with.

But the black eye made her grin. Though the room had been dark, she was pretty sure that he hadn't had it when Will had hoisted him over a shoulder and carried him away. Will had gotten in at least one good jab.

She followed a narrow alley all the way to the courtyard, Will, Manuel, Sergio and Mr. Shiner trailing. Will carried the can filled with the improvised, harmless compound. But every time Jess envisioned the container filled with the Morsyni, her chest tightened and her hands shook.

These people had no idea the power they were dealing with.

“Welcome. Welcome to our little party.” El Jefe spread his arms wide, indicating the crude circle of forty or so men. Most sported hands and clothes dirty from their labor, but their eyes were bright with curiosity. “Arturo, thank you for bringing our guests of honor.”

The man with the black eye nodded in reply.

El Jefe motioned for Arturo to join him, and Sergio herded Jess and Will in the same direction. “We've been looking forward to your demonstration all day, Jessica.”

She cringed at the name, one she'd been fighting for most of her life. Everyone assumed that Jess was short for the common name. But she'd been called Jessalynn after her mother, Lynn. Just another in a long list of selfish decisions her mom had made.

Jess had been trying to get rid of that reminder since her mother had taken off. Since Lynn McCoy had decided that being married to a sailor too often deployed on a submarine wasn't always fun. Since she'd decided that her twelve-year-old daughter wasn't worth taking along.

Even when someone called her by the wrong name, Jess was reminded of what her mother had done. Lynn hadn't come back, but Jess was stuck with her name. Even publishing her research under her nickname hadn't kept the constant reminders at bay.

“Let's not keep everyone waiting.” El Jefe's high-pitched voice brought the low rumble of the crowd to an immediate halt, every eye turning in her direction.

Reaching for the canister, Jess took a deep breath and begged heavenward for an intervention. If ever the DEA was going to find them, this would be as good a time as any.
God, if You want to send help...

She listened for the sound of choppers or an explosion at the front gate. None came. So she lifted the can and stretched her arm back to launch it.

“Wait.” Arturo waved a clean hand, free from the grime his compatriots wore. “He should do it.” A slender hand clapped Will's shoulder, and if Jess had a guess, she figured Will's lurch forward was an exaggerated response.

El Jefe's eyes grew wide, his frown turning into a wicked smile. “
Sí
. Yes. Let's do that.” Pointing at Will, he said, “You do it.”

Her breath caught, and she almost choked. They hadn't talked about how to release it. Not that it was terribly difficult to figure out, but what if he didn't hold it high enough and ended up spraying himself in the face? They'd quickly figure out that he wasn't the brilliant scientist his cover touted him to be.

Will stepped forward, his brown eyes blank, his face completely passive as he held his palms up in front of him. She mimicked pressing the button next to the nozzle, and he gave a quick nod. Then she mouthed,
Toss it hard.

With every eye on them, it was all she could risk.

He took the stage, walking into the middle of the circle with the confidence of an Oscar winner. He made a show of every step, as if he'd been throwing death cans every day of his life.

Every head tilted down to stare at the billowing white cloud spiraling out of the flying can. Then they looked up as the cloud wafted in the breeze before slowly falling to the earth. Several men held out their hands to catch the haze. It vanished in their grasps, leaving only a faint trace on their shoulders and heads.

El Jefe clapped three times in slow succession before the entire assembly broke out in applause and excited whoops.

“Very good. Very good.” He turned to Arturo, his face twisting with the joy of menace. “We will be ready when Juan Carlos arrives.”

El Jefe and Arturo spit out several excited lines of Spanish, their hands cutting through the air as their volume grew.

Suddenly El Jefe turned on Jess. “How far will the cloud spread?”

“As far as the wind takes it,” she answered.

“And anyone who comes in contact with it will die?”

She closed her eyes. They'd distorted and twisted all her research for their own gain. She'd spent almost three years studying this toxin to find a
cure
for its effects, something to neutralize it and keep it from killing anyone else. And they'd taken that from her and were going to use it to destroy another cartel.

The other compound might not be filled with “good guys,” but they were still human. They deserved better than a painful, prolonged death.

“They will die?” El Jefe's voice dropped to a growl.

“Yes.”

She had a sick feeling that she and Will wouldn't be far behind those other poor souls.

* * *

“Very, very good.”

Will glared at the evil little man. What kind of warped mind took pleasure in plotting the demise of hundreds of lives?

It shouldn't surprise him. Will had seen plenty of evil in his six years on the SEAL teams. It was part of the job. L. T. Sawyer, the CO of his platoon, had described the job of a SEAL as a “sin eater.” They faced the worst, the most heinous evil in the world. And then they removed that sin so that others could be free.

Just part of the job.

But it never got easier.

Especially face-to-face with the evil and unable to do more than wait for the right opportunity to take action. If he jumped the gun or chose the wrong moment, Jess's life would be on the line. His, too.

El Jefe was still rattling on about his big plans for Juan Carlos's arrival, but Arturo's gaze had settled heavily onto Jess. Her entire body shivered under the weight of it, and he knew she felt it. Her hazel eyes were hollow, haunted by the situation at hand.

Before he even realized what he was doing, Will reached for her arm to offer a reassuring squeeze. But when his hand was only halfway there, Arturo's eyes narrowed. Will aborted the movement and ran his fingers through his hair instead, but the other man's scowl didn't change.