Ruthless Game (47 page)

She looked in the mirror, while Jaimie and Rhianna made approving noises. “I have nowhere to wear them, and nothing to wear them with, but I absolutely love them.”

Jaimie and Rhianna grinned at each other. “Major shopping time, Rose. Get the boots, and the next time we go out, we’ll find the perfect dress. Kane can take you out to dinner, and we’ll babysit.”

“And dancing,” Rhianna added.

“I don’t know how to dance,” Rose said.

“We’ll teach you,” Jaimie offered as Rose sat down to reluctantly remove the boots.

Get them,
Kane said.
If you want them, Rose, we’ll find somewhere nice to go.

She took a breath and looked at them. She had a child to care for, a home to keep safe. Did she need the boots? No, but she really wanted them. The temptation was extraordinary. Whitney would have been disgusted with her. That thought tipped her right over the edge. She
had
to get them, if just to prove to herself that she rejected fully his brainwashing.

You’ve got two gang members sitting on the curb directly across from the shop, and one trying to look inconspicuous lounging against the front of the building. He’s got on a coat and his hand is inside of it. A fourth is crossing the street and heading right into the store.

Gideon’s cool voice delivered the message. Without hesitation Rhianna crossed the store and jerked the cell phone from the persistently silent Irma standing beside the door.

“That was damn stupid of you,” she hissed. “You should have walked out of here while you had the chance.”

Irma tried to pull a razor blade from her hair. Rhianna’s elbow connected hard with her face. The crack was loud, and Irma dropped to the floor at her feet. “Get out of here,” she called to the clerk. “Use the back door. These women are gang members, and their men are just outside.” As she gave the order, she pulled out her wallet and flashed a badge of some sort.

Rose couldn’t see what it said, but the clerk turned and hurried out of the store. Rose caught Imelda’s wrist as she tried to run toward the door, calling out to the man moving swiftly toward them from across the street. Rose delivered a hard chop to the side of her neck, and the girl went down hard.

I’ve got the shot,
Gideon said.

Let him come in
, Rhianna protested.
Too many civilians. His buddies probably have itchy trigger fingers
. Rhianna stepped to the side of the door.

Rose noticed no one protested. Jaimie moved behind the counter, pulling her weapon from her boot. Rose took the opposite side of the door from Rhianna. She preferred her knife. She could throw fast and accurately. And knives were silent.

That’s Jose Cortina, a real badass. He’s the real deal, Rhianna. Favors a knife. Thinks he’s a ladies’man. Has a taste for hurting women and torturing anyone who thinks about crossing him.
Javier informed them.
He’ll smile at you, half turn away, and then turn and throw a knife. He’s a lefty.

The door burst open, and Jose strode in. Rhianna kicked the door closed and stepped in behind him. “Your girl sent you the wrong picture.”

Jose toed Irma’s limp body, spit on her, and then looked straight at Rose. “I don’t think so. You’re worth a cool million.”

He looked over his shoulder at Rhianna, his eyes widening in surprise as he took in her face and body. “My lucky day.”

“You think so? Your boys outside are having a bad one. Take a look.” Rhianna moved slightly to give Jose a better view of the street.

Jose shifted his gaze to peer over her shoulder. The two men who had casually been sitting on the curb were now slumped over, looking drunk. Blood dripped steadily into the gutter. The third man, the one armed with the semiautomatic, stumbled out into the street directly in front of a car. The car had no time to throw on its brakes, and the body flew up and over the hood, smashing the windshield. The gun clattered to the street.

“What the hell?” Jose turned back to Rose with a small smile. He turned as if to leave, his hand a blur.

Rhianna caught his wrist with surprising strength, stepping in close. Jose frowned down at the hilt of the knife sticking out of his chest. “What the hell?” he repeated and coughed blood. It bubbled up around his lips and dribbled down his chin. His knees buckled. Rhianna stepped back and let him fall.

CHAPTER 19

The helicopter swooped in low over the desert, running without lights. There was little sound, only a muffled thump of the blades as it moved in fast, staying below radar to hover just at the edge of the remote village. The town sprawled out in front of them, a collection of adobe homes spreading to the outlying farms at the edge of a hill. Sitting atop the hill, a large estate, the home elaborate, two stories surrounded by towers and fences, looked down on the residents of the village. A shimmering blue pool looked inviting from the air.

The setup reminded Kane of a feudal lord looking down on his subjects. He glanced around at the men—and Rhianna—who were putting their lives on the line for his woman. For him. For his son. He’d lived his life with these men at his back. He could always count on them. What did the man in the mansion have? Money. Power. Just like Whitney, they bought loyalty. They ruled through fear.

Mack signaled the pilot, and the helicopter banked and came to an abrupt halt. The team moved into place as the ropes dropped. They fast-roped down, hit the ground running, in full combat gear. The team was in full force. Jaimie had stayed behind with Sebastian, Marc, and Brian, the warehouse locked up tight under full security. The other nine members of his team ran in formation toward the safe house where their three contacts—members of the elite Air Force Pararescue GhostWalker Team Four waited. That gave Mack an even dozen, more than enough to get the job done. This was a personal mission, and it would require them being the ghosts they were. The night truly belonged to them, and Cesar Lopez was about to find that out.

Mack held up his closed fist, and the nine members of his team went still, sinking low, disappearing into the shadows of the buildings. A low whistle came from the left. Mack pointed two fingers, and Javier slipped into the alleyway, his body disappearing into the darker shadows along the wall. He moved in complete silence, a part of the night, his job to get a feel for their contacts. Kane slipped in behind him, positioning himself on the other wall in order to cover Javier. Gideon was already climbing up the building, going high, his night vision enabling him to see without glasses, covering Javier from his vantage point.

Large panel truck. Beat-up. Paint peeling. Driver behind the wheel. One man standing by the back doors. One approaching you, Javier. Two Rovers two blocks down, both armed. Look military,
Gideon reported.

Lopez owns the military stationed anywhere near his stronghold. Also the police,
Mack reminded.
Consider them the enemy.

Roger that,
Gideon acknowledged.

Mack wanted them in and out of the village without being seen—or heard. The two military men presented far more of a challenge than those by the panel truck. If the men meeting them were enemies, there was no doubt they’d wind up dead in the street.

Javier gave the exact same low whistle and when the man turned toward him; a little light from the tiny crescent moon spilled over him.
Joe Spagnola.
Javier breathed the identity to the others.

Kane felt the coils in this stomach ease. Joe Spagnola was a GhostWalker familiar to their team. He’d guarded Jaimie for months before the team had returned to San Francisco. He stayed without moving, covering the man by the back of the truck. He was a stranger, but the odds were looking better than ever.

There was a whispered conversation between Javier and Joe before Joe walked Javier around the panel truck to introduce him to the man guarding the back. Javier kept his body away from both men, leaving a clear shot for Kane. Kane wasn’t all that worried. Joe and his friend needed to be careful around Javier. He could kill both in a split second, erupting into violence without warning. Still, he never took his gaze from the two men. Another brief conversation ensued, and the second man stepped up to the truck to open the large door.

Malichai Fortunes, Mack. He’s got a hard-ass rep, but he’s the real deal,
Javier reported.
He’s a member of Team Four.

Kane eased his body closer.
Look alive, Gideon.

I’m on the driver.

This was the most dangerous moment of all. Javier had to step up to the back of the truck and inspect the interior to be certain it wasn’t a trap. They would ride in that truck to a safe house as close as possible to the villa. Most of those in town were employed directly by Lopez or their livelihood depended on his goodwill. His team wouldn’t find many allies, and most people would gladly turn them over to the head of the cartel and reap a generous reward.

Damn it, two Rovers suddenly got interested,
Gideon informed them.

Rhianna, Rose, take care of them,
Mack instructed.

Both women hastily peeled off their jackets to reveal clingy tops. Rhianna’s generous breasts were framed beautifully. Rose looked like a sexy little pixie as she threw her semiautomatic to Jacob Princeton, the GhostWalker closest to her. Rhianna shook out her hair, pulled out a bottle of tequila from her pack, and tossed her gear to Jacob as well. She sauntered out from behind the building, her hips swaying, Rose beside her. The two women laughed, their voices melodic, seductive, so that the two military men turned their attention toward the sound. Almost at once the two women paused, as if just spotting the two military men.

Instantly they changed direction to intercept the two men, whispering and laughing. Rose allowed Rhianna to take the lead. She wasn’t used to using feminine wiles as a weapon, although they’d certainly covered that in her training—but not like Rhianna. She beckoned the men to her with a crook of her finger, looking so tempting Rose was stunned. She was the consummate actress. If Rose didn’t know better, she would have thought Rhianna was either an experienced prostitute or she was madly in love with one of the two men and determined to entice him to have sex right there out in the open.

Rhianna put her hand on the nearest one’s shoulder and slowly, sensually, circled the two men. Her lips were parted, her eyes devouring them. She whispered something softly in Spanish. Rose barely caught the words, nearly as mesmerized as the two men. “Finally. Two real men. We want to party. Come with us. Please. I need a real man between my legs for once.” Her voice dripped with sensuality. With hunger. There was no real way for a man to resist that smoky, needy voice.

They followed Rhianna right into the small spaces between two buildings. She turned, offering her mouth to the first one, while Rose crowded close to his partner. They struck at the exact same moment, shoving the syringes against the exposed necks and slowly lowering the bodies to the ground. Rhianna was all business, breaking open the tequila bottle and pouring it liberally on their clothes. She crouched beside them and opened shirts, and unzipped pants, jerking one pair down around the man’s knees. The guns were laid next to them as if forgotten in the dirt, the empty tequila bottle inches from the one with his pants up.

Rhianna was thorough. There was no doubt that both men would believe they’d partied heavily. The drug in their systems would give them a blazing headache, simulating a hangover.

Lucas, we’re good,
Rhianna confirmed as she straightened.

Rose was shocked that Lucas had managed to enter the alley behind them and was part of the shadows. She hadn’t seen or heard him.

Rhianna grinned at her. “I didn’t see him either. He’s a ghost. We all are.”

Rose smiled at Lucas. “You’re good.”

He looked a little embarrassed by the compliment.
All clear, Mack.

The three of them drifted back up the street, keeping out of sight, aware of Javier standing in harm’s way. He stepped up to the truck and peered inside, a sweeping visual, leaving himself exposed as he did so. When he turned giving the okay signal, his gaze sought and found Rhianna in the darkness. Her chin tilted, but she didn’t break stride.

Javier continued around to the front of the truck, approaching the driver from behind. The man stepped carefully out of the truck, hands in plain sight. There was a small exchange.
We’re good, Top. Wyatt Fontenot. I know his brother, Gator.

Didn’t know he was a GhostWalker.

He’s got the mark, and Joe vouches for both of them.

The mark, Rose had come to find out, pushing down the urge to scratch the itch of her new tattoos, was simply the symbols used by the GhostWalkers. A triangle with three distinct symbols inside, signifying: shadow knights protect against evil forces, using psychic power, courage, and honor. She also had, like every member of the special teams, the GhostWalker crest with the Latin words,
The night is ours
. The ink was a special one that could only be seen by those with night vision—something every true GhostWalker had.