Talon: Combat Tracking Team (A Breed Apart) (53 page)

Spires leapt toward the sky above bulbous protrusions. Gold ones. Turquoise ones. Swirls of gold tracing the bubble up to the spire. Cathedral. “Russia.” She spun. Searched the surroundings for landmarks. Signs. Anything to verify what had her heart misfiring—so much that it hurt.

Tires squalled behind her.

She whirled, her hair whipping into her face. Blurring her vision. Not for long. But enough to cost precious time.

A black vehicle lurched toward her. Rubber screeched against cement. Doors clunked open.

She sprinted to the left, willing back tears.

Feet thumped behind her. Several.

Weight rammed into her back with a meaty grunt. Pitched her forward. Cement rushed up at her. Fire lit through her palms as she slammed into the street.

Almost as quickly, she was hauled to her feet. Two men held her, their grips on her arms brutal.

More men stalked toward her. The first sneered, his nostrils flared. He eyed her from top to bottom—a look that made her feel undressed and undone. He smirked. Muttered something in a language she didn’t know but guessed to be Russian. That was where she was, right? He bobbed his head toward the warehouse.

Aspen wrestled against them, knowing if she went back in there, in that building, she may never be seen again. She let her legs go limp, but they merely hoisted her up. She screamed. Thrashed.

Almost without warning, she flew through the air. Onto the ground.

The girl who’d been on the flight with her stood there, her face hard as marble. She stared at the man who’d raped Aspen with those stormy eyes. She said something to the man, her expression impassive. Unreadable.

The man matched her stonelike mask. He muttered something to her, and his lip curled.

The girl’s chin lifted ever so slightly—just like Timbrel when someone said something that challenged her. Her eyes glinted. She replied to the man.

What Aspen wouldn’t do for a personal translator.

The man’s voice rose, and his words flew as he whirled around and stalked off. The second man with him shot Aspen a sidelong glance that almost seemed to carry an apology.

Her heart skipped a beat. She pulled her gaze from the man who wielded power without a lot of brute force, unlike the brute squad behind him.

The girl—who couldn’t be any more than twenty-one or -two—merely uttered two words, her gaze still on the men who left. “Do it.”

Aspen’s gut churned. “Do what?”
Kill me?

The grunts who’d held Aspen moved toward her. She withdrew, but one held her. The other pinned her leg to the ground. Drove his large fist straight into her calf. Pain blinded her.

    Thirty-Nine    

L
id down and door locked, the bathroom became a haven. When he thought of what took place—or rather, what got deposited—in this room, the irony couldn’t be any greater that he found it to be a place of quiet, a place to think.

Austin cranked the knob on the shower then sat on the lid of the toilet, waiting as the pipes filtered the junk and turned the water clear.

From his pocket, he retrieved the phone. Ran his thumb over the screen, swiping away the sweat that mottled the display.

Calling her could unleash trouble.

Not calling her…well, he’d never know.

Everything in him wanted to believe he hadn’t been played.

You’re grasping
.

Yeah, he knew he was. But still…he had to know. He’d never felt this way about anyone, till Lina showed up. Finding her, connecting with her, sharing the journey—

That’s what he thought he’d been doing.

Was it all an act? A way for her to bleed him of information?

Austin stepped from the still-functional bathroom after a quick shower. He grabbed his gear and stuffed it in a duffel Rocket loaned him. Back in his old duds, Austin realized the clothes were rank. But at least he’d scrubbed down.

He crossed the open bay and spotted the others loading gear. They were trying to load up the steel crate. He smirked. Knowing Talon was in good hands with Scrip, Austin headed over to help. He tossed in his bag then waved the guys off. With a few deft moves, he collapsed the crate.

“Thanks,” Rocket said.

“No worries.” He motioned to the SUV. “Is this everything? We ready to go?”

“Just about. Waiting on the general. He’s on the line with HQ.” Rocket closed the rear hatch. As they headed back toward the main room, he glanced toward him. “Can I ask you a question?”

“Sure.”

“Why’d you do it? Ya know—the spook thing? Digging deep and leaving your family?” The guy shrugged, his lanky build and squared shoulders a dichotomy. “Not sure I could do that.”

“It wasn’t easy, but I believed I could help my country. Help others.” Austin shook his head. “I just felt it was right.” Memories slipped and slid through his mind. “I went back to Austin twice. To check on Aspen.” A raw burning began at the back of his throat. “The last time, I just…I saw her and Talon…and I knew I couldn’t visit them again. It haunted me. But I felt I was doing the right thing.”

“Do you regret it?”

“Sure.” Austin hated admitting it. “Yeah. I do—hate what it did to Aspen, to Talon. But would I do it again?” He shrugged and pursed his lips. “I probably would. What I did, leaving, working for the country, it was important. I was one of the few willing to do it.”

They stepped into the mini operations room.

Awareness lit through his mind. Energy—
bad
energy. Not that he was into all that mysticism. But whatever happened—

And Timbrel. She was as angry as a wet cat as she railed at Burnett, who held a hand over his forehead. “Where’s Courtland?” she demanded.

“Right here.” Austin moved forward. “What’s going on?”

“Where is he? What’d you do with him?”

“Do with whom? What are you talking about?”

“Talon’s missing!”

    Forty    

W
eakness.

Power.

Disgraced.

Honored.

Shoved down.

Raised up.

Bent forward, elbows on his knees, Cardinal rubbed the knuckles of his fist. Polar opposites had served to define his existence, growing up under the authoritarian rule of the colonel. Terror had shaped Cardinal’s performance. Terror that should he fail, no matter how large or how much, he would pay. And severely. Beatings were as commonplace as the smiles and love other children received.