Dangerous Protector (Aegis Group Book 5) (17 page)

The cops weren’t out here yet, but that didn’t mean NueEnergy or Good Global didn’t have someone ready to grab Fiona. She’d become the most valuable commodity to either side. The way Marco saw it, Good Global would want her to cover their asses. He doubted they had any idea what sort of illegal activities the company was performing through the green energy front. NueEnergy couldn’t afford to allow Fiona to talk. Period.

“Marco? What are we doing?”

“Watching,” he whispered.

“Why?”

“Because.”

“Marco.”

“Why’d you ask what we were doing?”

“Because we’re just sitting here.”

“Exactly. Anyone watching us is getting antsy for us to make a move. So we wait a bit more and let them move first.”

“Oh… That makes sense.” She turned and looked out the window. “I used to do that in hacking. You dig in and turtle, let the system security pass over you, and when they aren’t looking anymore, you keep going.”

“Yup.”

They sat for almost ten minutes without so much as a rabbit moving in the brush.

It was too still.

Or he was paranoid.

With his history it was hard to tell.

Did he trust his gut, or his brain?

Fiona’s life could depend on him making the right choice.

If Good Global were going to come after them, they’d probably do it through a phone call or sending Scott to make a deal. Ghost had said the company was above board. Or at least they were good about cleaning their noses.

Now, if NueEnergy sent someone, they’d have likely already lit up the night with machine gun fire.

“Okay, in and out. What are you grabbing?” He shifted the car into drive and let it roll forward.

“The backpacks in the spare room, water bottles and the jugs of water from the pantry. If I have time, food, but we can always pick stuff up.”

“Right. We got this, sweetheart. You ready?”

She patted her laptop bag, already slung over her shoulders. He was being paranoid. Again. But he wanted them to have everything they needed on them in case of an emergency. He’d drilled it into her head where his grandparent’s cabin was. The most important thing now was making sure she got to the cabin and was in proximity to the NueEnergy building to hack in and get what she could. She’d pointed out that the servers could have been wiped already, but it was a risk they had to take.

Without something concrete on the company and its parent organization, Fiona would continue to be a victim. What Ghost had so far wasn’t enough to do it.

They coasted down the lane, keeping their speed slow and their eyes open.

Marco paused half-way between his place and his parent’s.

“If anyone was watching, we’d have seen them by now,” Fiona said.

“Something doesn’t feel right.”

“Feel right? Are you serious?” She twisted to look behind them.

The skin across the back of his neck felt tight, the muscles in his shoulders tense, and his fingers ached from gripping the steering wheel so hard.

“This isn’t right.” He stomped on the break, shifted into reverse and punched the gas.

Fiona yelped and braced a hand against the dash.

He whipped the car into his parent’s drive, sending the stolen car sailing backward, almost crashing into the carport.

“Marco!” Fiona shrieked.

He turned, movement out of the corner of his eye catching his attention.

Three men stood behind his house. It was too dark to make out what they were wearing, but from the way they were holding their arms he figured it was safe to assume they had on assault gear and were packing more than hand guns.

“Get on the ATV. Go! Go! Go!” Marco shoved Fiona out the door first. She was all that mattered. If she could find her way to his grandparent’s place, she could save herself.

He slid out the driver’s door, drew his handgun, and circled behind the hood of the car.

“Fiona? Fiona, wait,” a man called out. His voice carried over the desert stillness.

“That’s Scott.”

The other three guys were heading their way.

“Stay back,” Marco yelled.

The three men didn’t pause.

Marco aimed a few feet in front of the lead guy and squeezed off a shot.

The men backpedaled, raising their weapons.

“Fiona, go.”

“But—”

“Go now!”

The ATV engine revved, drowning out the shouts from closer to his house.

Marco kept his eyes on the three armed men. Making sure Fiona got away was the only thing that mattered.

He felt the gust of wind from Fiona’s passing. The advancing trio turned, tracking Fiona’s path. The farthest raised his gun.

Marco sighted and fired, hitting the man in the leg.

He couldn’t take the chance.

Marco sprinted to the other ATV and fired it up. One of the three was running straight for him. Marco gunned the engine and tore out of the shed at full speed, pointed at the ATV trail.

He heard the pop of gunfire, then there was a searing, white-hot pain in his thigh. The ATV hit a bit of rock and Marco flew into the brush. He rolled, gripping the wound with one hand.

Fuck—that hurt.

Footsteps crunched over the earth, closer.

Marco rolled, drawing the knife from his belt, and pushed up to his knees. His leg throbbed, pain stabbing him up and down his hip and thigh, but he didn’t have time for that now.

The shooter drew closer, gun up.

“I’m down,” Marco held up his hands, but turned his right palm away, holding the knife along his forearm. “I’m injured.”

The shooter didn’t speak. He didn’t even seem to notice the blood. Scott was working with professionals. Who? Had they misjudged Good Global entirely?

Marco let his shoulders slump and he winced.

“I’m done for, man,” he said.

The shooter edged within striking distance.

Another foot forward.

Then one more.

Marco swiped his left arm up, batting the barrel of the gun away and sliced at the man’s thighs with the knife. The body armor would protect everything vital, but the thighs were too often left unprotected.

The shooter howled in pain, backpedaling.

Marco shoved to his feet, pushing the pain down, and followed the shooter. He wrenched the rifle away from him and decked the guy in the face.

The others were too far away to help their fallen comrade.

Marco limped to where the ATV had puttered to a stop and climbed back in, moving slower than he’d like.

He jammed his left foot on the gas and pointed the ATV on the trail.

Fiona was already out of sight, so far away he couldn’t hear the hum of her engine. He just prayed she remembered the twisting turns, where to stay on the trail and where to strike off on her own. Her life might depend on it.

17.

Fiona let the ATV
roll to a stop. The adrenaline dump had burned off a few miles back and now she was starting to drop in a bad way. Her hands shook. Her teeth chattered. Her stomach hurt.

All the running, the lack of sleep, the stress of it all were taking their toll. To top it off, she was sure there’d been more than one gun shot back there. She hadn’t yet seen Marco, which worried her.

Was she on the right trail?

Had he been caught?

Was he okay?

What if she was lost?

She could see herself going until the gas ran out, leaving herself stranded in the middle of nowhere.

The breeze whipped across the desert, slicing through her hoodie. She shivered and hunched down in her seat, eyes on the horizon behind her.

Wait…

What was that sound?

She killed the engine and strained to listen.

That was another engine, wasn’t it?

Her heart rate kicked up.

What if it wasn’t Marco?

What if it was the NueEnergy thugs or the Good Global guys? She had no way to tell until they were on top of her.

She cut the lights on the ATV and waited.

The sound was louder, closer, but she couldn’t see much, just shadows on shadows. The starlight against a rock formation cast a long, blob of darkness, partially hiding her—and possibly whoever was coming closer.

Should she keep going and hope she was on the right path? Or should she sit and wait like how they’d talked about in the driveway?

That sound was getting awfully close.

Fiona twisted, peering back along the path.

There.

She’d seen a bit of movement.

Something—that was an ATV without its headlights on—rolled up over some rock and followed the bend in the path.

There was no hesitation. The person behind the wheel knew where they were going. Unlike her.

It had to be Marco. Right?

She held her breath, hunching down farther in the seat, watching the ATV come closer. And closer. And closer.

It slowed about ten feet away from her and eased alongside her vehicle.

“Out of gas?” Marco asked.

“No.” She exhaled and slumped in her seat. It was him. And he was okay.

“Okay, let’s keep going. Stay right on my tail, okay?”

“What’s that smell?” She wrinkled her nose.

“Blood.”

Wait—what?

Marco’s ATV shot forward. She scrambled to twist the key and shift into gear before he left her high and dry.

Was it his blood?

Or someone else’s?

She stuck close to Marco’s ATV for what felt like ages. They bumped over the rocks on barely-visible tracks. Were they going in circles? Or crossing the damn state?

At some point, she became aware of the building looming up out of the sand and rock. It was big, maybe two stories, and had several tall smoke stacks sticking up into the night sky. They looked…wrong. Something so industrialized didn’t belong out here.

They hit an old, gravel road and headed even closer to the building. At one point they turned off onto another rock drive, but this one was overgrown. The cabin set off the path was almost invisible in the shadow of the building.

Calling it a cabin was a lie.

It was a log mansion, with several buildings around it.

Marco drove the ATV right up through the wide doorway and into the house.

Was she supposed to go in there, too?

He’d said to stay on his bumper…

She eased the ATV into what had once been a spacious living room, dining area and kitchen. Despite the gargantuan size of the place, it still felt…homey. Most of the windows were broken or cracked. Dust and cobwebs covered most of the interior.

They killed the engines and silence descended, so severe she felt as though she could hear her heartbeat.

Marco groaned and muttered something that sound like, “Fuck.”

Fiona scrambled out of the ATV, leaving her laptop in the passenger seat.

“Marco? Are you hurt?” She pulled the door open. It seemed to hang at a weird angle. It was so dark inside the house she couldn’t make anything out.

“Yeah—don’t touch. I’ll be all right.”

“Did…are you shot?”

“Clean through my thigh. Hurts like a mother fucker. Shit.”

“You’re—really? Did you really get shot?”

“Fiona, sweetheart, take a deep breath, okay?” He gripped her hand in one of his. His skin was sticky, bits of grit adhered to his palms. “I’ll be fine.”

“You’re hurt…”

“It happens.”

What kind of person shrugged off a bullet wound?

He swung his legs out over the seat and stood, gripping the ATV for support.

“Grab the first aid kit and go to the bedroom at the back of the house, okay?”

“But, your leg…”

“Fiona, please, just get the kit and go to the back bedroom. I’ll be there in a minute.”

She wanted to…fix him. To make things better, but she didn’t have any idea how to do that. Marco wasn’t freaking out or acting as if this was any sort of a big deal, which made it worse somehow. She edged away, watching him standing there. When he didn’t fall to the ground or spurt more blood, she figured it was best to do what he wanted.

Fiona grabbed the first aid kit and the cooler. If she remembered right, they hadn’t emptied it last time and there might still be some water in there. She paused to grab her laptop and headed down the wide hallway that led deeper into the house.

The doors were closed, and her feet crunched on sand littered on the floor.

She paused outside the last door and glanced over her shoulder.

Marco stood where she’d left him.

Was this the right thing to do? She didn’t know.

She pushed the door open. A nightlight cast enough illumination for her to get an impression of what there was. Even better? It was clean.

Fiona stepped over the line of gunk at the door. She peered at the interior side of the door. Insulation was stuck to each edge, which would do a lot to keep out unwanted dust and debris.

“In.” Marco planted a hand on her back and urged her farther into the room, then closed the door. “Close your eyes.”

She squeezed them shut a second before light flooded the space.

“How?” Fiona blinked, her eyes adjusting.

“Solar power. They might have taken the land and the house, but we come by every few weeks to make sure something has been preserved.” Marco limped through a door on the left and flipped on another light.

“Won’t someone see us?”

“Nah, windows on this side of the house were boarded up after a storm.”

She followed him into what had to have been the master bath once upon a time. The fixtures were dated, older, but still in working order.

His pant leg was dark, the fabric crusted with dust and soggy at the same time.

“Got the kit?” He loosened his belt and eased his jeans to the floor.

“Right here.” She set it on the clean counter and knelt. “Give me your foot. What happened?”

“Guy had shitty aim.” He leaned against the counter and lifted his foot a little.

“This is shitty aim?” She worked the laces free and wiggled some free to make it easier pulling it off.

“He was probably aiming for my head.”

“Marco!”

“It’s probably time to reevaluate what we think Good Global is up to.” He winced and worked his foot out of his shoe.

She got one and then the other boot off and helped ease the dirty clothes off his legs. The wound had clotted some already. It wasn’t gushing or anything, so that had to be good, right?

“Marco, this looks bad.” She clutched his dirty jeans to her chest while he hobbled over to the shower.

“Looks worse than it is. Must have missed the artery and tendons. Could have been a lot worse.” From the strain in his voice, she couldn’t imagine worse. Didn’t want to.

“You should go to a hospital.”

“Can’t. Not until you hack NueEnergy. Besides, all they’ll do is patch me up and send me to jail. I can do the patching myself.”

“But you need a doctor.”

“I’ve field dressed worse than this. Go. There’s some water in the pump. I’ll get this washed up, but then I might need help with stitches. You get set up to do your thing.”

She was torn between wanting to help Marco and being sick. In the end, she did neither. Fiona set up her things at an old, sturdy vanity.

The sooner she went public with what NueEnergy was doing, the sooner Marco could see a real doctor.

Marco held in the
groan of pain until Fiona was out of the bathroom. He covered his mouth with a hand and squeezed his eyes shut.

This wasn’t going to be fun.

Until the hole healed up a bit he wasn’t going to have the ease of movement he needed. Less mobility meant they would be sitting ducks for either of the corporate goon squads to swoop in and scoop them up.

He dug around in the first aid kit. It wasn’t the best, but at least he had some over-the-counter painkillers and the essentials. He’d done more with less. A lot less.

First thing first, he washed his legs, careful to ensure the grit got out. The bleeding had stopped at least, which was something. And he didn’t have to dig the bullet out. Also a bonus.

The best he could tell from a little feeling around was that the bullet had gone in at an angle and from the rock rise, missed his femur and gone out the back. There was a big dent in the ATV where he thought the bullet hit before bouncing off, probably into the sand never to be seen again. What was important was that nothing seemed permanently damaged. It’d just hurt like a son of a bitch for a while.

He sat down on the toilet lid, prepared to wait a bit for his skin to dry before attempting to stitch it up. The soft clack of keys told him all he needed to know about Fiona’s activities. She was hard at work and distracted, which was good. He didn’t want her focused on him, and the sooner she hacked NueEnergy the sooner they could have the leverage they needed.

Marco snagged his latest burner phone out of his jeans. He’d forwarded his messages and calls before stashing both their phones in a locker outside a bus stop.

He checked the texts first since he knew his mother had tried a few times to get him on the phone.

Got weird message from Danny. Can’t get him to answer. You heard from him?

Fuck, he hadn’t thought about Danny since…the family dinner. He couldn’t worry about his cousin’s fuckups right now. There was too much on his plate, too many things that could go wrong, and the stakes were too high.

Danny would have to fend for himself. He’d made his choices. He could live with them.

Marco reached out and nudged the bathroom door shut.

He dialed Ghost’s number from memory and listened for an answer. The last dozen times he’d tried to get a hold of the guy had gone to voicemail.

“What do you want, you needy bitch?” Ghost’s voice was gravelly, tired. A lot like how Marco felt.

“Where the hell have you been?” He kept his voice low.

“Working on shit, unlike you.”

“We’ve got problems.” As quickly as Marco could he gave Ghost the bare bones. Fiona’s history. Witness Protection status. Their run-in with Scott. And finally, their new plan.

“I don’t like this,” Ghost said.

“Yeah, me neither.”

“No, I mean, I don’t like her story. It’s too…neat.”

“Neat? What the hell is neat about this?”

“We just happen to pick the bitch with the most baggage as our mark?”

“You said so yourself that before a few years ago she simply didn’t exist.”

“Yeah, but there’s a lot of reasons for why that might be. You still got that USB on you?”

“Yeah…”

“Install it on her laptop. This way I can make sure she isn’t selling us out.”

“What? No.”

“You’re thinking with your dick, man. You have been since you stuck it in her.”

“Shut the fuck up.”

“See? The Marco from a week ago would have said, yeah, so what? You’re defensive. You’ve begun to care about her. You have no objectivity when it comes to her. This whole thing has gone from being about exposing NueEnergy so your family could go back to being happy again and now it’s all about saving her. You see the bigger picture here?”

Shit.

Ghost was right.

But he was wrong about Fiona.

“Look, install the USB. This way, if things go sideways, we have a back-up. I can change the parameters so it records everything, not just specific data. If you want to protect her, making the copy on her laptop not being the only one is protecting her.”