Heroes In Uniform (133 page)

“Touch me down there, Mick. Please, touch me,” she said, needing him in every possible way.

He dropped one hand and found her center. Parted her and pressed his thumb against her clit, dragging a rough shudder from her. As her body tightened on him, increasing the friction of her hips as she rode him, a sympathetic shudder ripped through his body.

“God, Cat. That feels so good,” he said and gently nipped the tip of her breast with his teeth. She moaned and cradled his head. Urged him on.

“I like that, Mick. I like having your mouth on me,” she said and he teethed her again.

The climax that had been growing with every shift of her hips ripped through her. She arched her back and ground down on him, crying out his name.

He pumped his hips up into her, prolonging her release until he finally gave in to his own climax, his body shaking and tensing beneath her as he came.

She held him close and kissed him. Savored the peace that slowly replaced the need and realized in those moments that there was no lose-lose in his arms.

But she understood that she would have battle beside him so that she might have more time to with him. She’d waited too long to find this kind of fulfillment and she wasn’t about to give it up without a fight.

Sins of the Flesh: Chapter Thirty-Four

Forty hours to go
, Mad Dog thought as he drove east on the expressway, eager to discover the location of Mick’s family and hopefully the man himself.

Bradley Beach was a little over an hour away from the hotel in Philly where he had set up his base camp after his trip in from his home in Boston.

The town wasn’t far off the Garden State Parkway, with a quaint Main Street lined with bakeries, restaurants, and the occasional ice cream parlor.

The library was a few blocks off Main in a red brick building on a well-maintained plot of land. The walk leading to an ornate portico sheltering the library’s large metal doors was lined with flowers in full bloom. It would be tough to break through those metal doors, but luckily there were a number of windows that could provide easier points of entry or escape if need be.

He parked around the corner from the library on a quiet residential street, walked to the library entrance, and entered.

A perky young teenager manned the checkout desk inside. He didn’t approach at first, scoping out the interior of the library and the number of patrons within.

You never knew when you’d have to start shooting
.

Satisfied that no one presented an immediate threat, he approached the teen, eliciting a cheery reaction.

“May I help you?” she asked as she stamped a date onto a card and slipped it into a sleeve in a book that she returned to the patron by the desk.

“I have an old friend in the area, but can’t remember how to spell his last name so I can get an address for him. I know he attended the local high school and I was hoping you would have some yearbooks I could search.”

“What year was he? Maybe I know him?” she said, but Mad Dog shook his head.

“He’s a lot older, but he had a younger brother not much older than you – Antonio Carrera,” he advised and the young girl’s tweezed eyebrows narrowed as she mulled over the name.

“Sounds familiar, but I can’t say I know him. Maybe Bill would, though. He’s been around forever.”

She walked to a wall at the back of the desk area and then around behind it. He heard the murmur of voices and seconds later the young woman returned with an older man who had the look of ex-military about him.

He wore a dark blue security guard’s uniform and was brushing away some crumbs, probably because the young girl had interrupted him during a break.

The man could be a problem
, he thought, but kept a neutral look on his face.

The security guard eyeballed him up and down before asking, “What can I do for you?”

“Looking for an old Army buddy. Last name is Carrera.”

Mad Dog noticed the
Semper Fi
tattoo on the older man’s forearm. The ex-Marine squinted at him and then shot him a curious look once again. “You’re not from around here, are you?”

“No, sir,” he answered with military precision. “From the Boston area, sir. Just came to win some money down in Atlantic City, but figured I’d drop by to see my friend.”

Seemingly satisfied with the answer, the grizzled ex-Marine motioned with a gnarled finger toward the back of the library.

“Phone books, yearbooks, and Little League directories are all in the reference area. You might find what you need back there.”

He thanked the man, headed to the back where another helpful librarian handed him a couple of yearbooks based on the dates Mad Dog had found for Antonio Carrera. He hit the jackpot in the second yearbook which had a picture of Antonio in his suit and tie. The young man was a dead ringer for his old friend Mick. Probably a younger brother.

As he flipped through the pages of the yearbook, he realized that Antonio had not only been on the lacrosse and football teams, but also the baseball team.

Assuming that the younger Carrera might have played on a Little League team, he asked the librarian for the directories, but as she was handing them over she said, “I’m assuming you found your friend in the yearbook.”

“I did. I was hoping to track down his address,” he said since his searches on the Internet the night before had not yielded any phone listings for the Carreras.

“Do you know what year your friend played?” she said.

“Actually, I found his brother in the yearbook – Antonio Carrera,” he replied and a broad smile erupted on the librarian’s face.

“You should have mentioned his name earlier. I can tell you where to find Tony,” she said.

Mad Dog smiled.

Today was going to be a good day for Mick to die.

* * *

At noon on the nose Edwards dialed the number Carrera had given him. The mercenary answered on the second ring and his voice projected into the room via the speaker phone.

“Dr. Edwards.”

Edwards glanced at Ricardo Morales as the other scientist sat across from him, his face expressionless even as he said, “Mad Dog was here to see Ricardo Morales. He’s a geneticist with our company.”

A long pause followed his statement before Carrera said, “A geneticist? You expect me to believe that this scientist is the one responsible for what’s happening?”

“He’s been working with Wells for at least a decade. I suspect the two of them developed the plan to experiment on the terminal patients. After all, who would miss them?”

“You son-of-a-bitch.”

“Not me, Mr. Carrera. As I said, it was Wells and Morales,” he urged.

“Where is Morales now?”

Edwards smiled and looked across at Morales as he said, “Long gone along with the remaining patients in the program.”

Patients and a genetic engineering process that might be worth a great deal more than the one hundred million and options he stood to gain from the Gates deal. Of course, if Mad Dog did the job Morales had hired him for, Edwards could have his cake and eat it too.

“I’d get a lawyer, Dr. Edwards, because you’re not going to be able to hide behind Wells and Morales for long,” Carrera warned and the line went dead.

Edwards calmly pressed the button to shut off the speaker phone. “We have to eliminate Carrera, Ricardo.”

Morales shrugged. “I’ll put my money on Mad Dog successfully completing that assignment.”

“You did put your money on it,” he reminded the geneticist.

The other man laughed and said, “Luckily there’s a lot more where that came from. My partners are quite excited about the possibilities for the process.”

Edwards could well imagine that – genetically enhanced warriors and assassins would fetch a high price.

“What if Mad Dog fails?” Edwards asked, picking up a gold pen from his desk and nervously tipping it over and over again on his blotter.

“There’s Santiago and now Bradford. Either one can tear apart either Shaw or her would-be hero.”

“
If
we can get to Carrera and Shaw before they reach the authorities,” Edwards replied, dropping the gold pen to the desk’s surface.

“And what if they do reach the police? Shaw’s time is limited even with treatment and from what I understand, her protector’s reputation is dubious at best.”

Not all that dubious
, Edwards thought, but didn’t say. If the house of cards started to collapse, he wanted to be able to extricate himself before it fell in on him. “We need a contingency plan that isn’t all death and destruction.”

“Not to worry. There’s enough money in a Swiss account if we need to disappear and my friends have promised a great deal more based on what they’ve seen,” Morales replied and rose from his chair, smoothing the lines of his expensive silk suit as he did so.

He looked more like a drug lord or pimp than a geneticist
, Edwards thought with distaste.

“Let’s hope that won’t be necessary,” Edwards said.

* * *

It had been easier than Mad Dog could have imagined.

No need for any extensive searches since the librarian had immediately recognized the Carrera name. Antonio was the youngest in the family and worked at a Mexican restaurant owned by his parents which was apparently a local institution in town.

The librarian had also confirmed that Mick was the eldest and that there were two younger sisters -- one serving in Iraq, the other a local doctor. The very helpful librarian had even provided the name of the hospital where the one sister worked.

Mad Dog had done some reconnoitering earlier in the day only to discover that a family emergency had resulted in an unanticipated closure of the restaurant. Luckily, one of the workers had failed to get the message and had been loitering at the door when he arrived.

Twenty bucks later, the worker had confirmed that the eldest Carrera son was probably in the area. The man had no idea where Mick lived, but had overheard one of the elder Carreras speaking about Mick recently and that the mother had left with a large delivery of food days earlier. Since she didn’t normally make deliveries, the worker had assumed the food was for a family member.

Armed with that information, Mad Dog had gone back to his car, powered up his laptop and broadband card. An hour later, he had the address for the hospital where Dr. Liliana Carrera worked and a photo of her from a brochure for a recent gala held by the hospital.

Dr. Carrera was a pretty woman. Attractive enough to do. He might even keep her for some fun after using her as bait to draw in her brother and Shaw.

The thought of doing both the Carrera woman and Shaw made him hard.

It was shame that they’d soon both be dead.

By late afternoon he had a solid lay of the land and an escape route in case things went south thanks to his surveillance of the hospital and nearby roads.

Last, but not least, he had done some additional investigations and decided where to take Dr. Carrera and Shaw for his entertainment and after, to dispose of their bodies.

Now all that was left to do was put his plan into action.

* * *

Liliana had heard the relief in Mick’s voice when she had called earlier. The treatment had worked and Caterina was feeling better. Their parents and younger brother Tony had closed the restaurant and driven off on a long-needed vacation to visit family in Chicago.

Those developments had imbued her with a second round of energy. Enough to let her finish the last few hours of her shift with a spring in her step.

The only troubling aspect of her shift had been the occasional sightings of Harrison, who seemed to have gone into stalker mode. But looking at the bright side of things, at least stalker mode meant he was keeping his distance.

Vigilant as Mick had warned, she carefully scoped out the hospital parking lot before heading to her car. In the early morning hours, there was little activity and the path to her vehicle was well-lit and empty.

With a relieved sigh, she gripped her keys firmly and hurried to her car. As she approached, a big SUV came screeching from the parking lot and jerked to a stop in front of the entrance to the emergency room.

The driver side door on the car flew open and a man came rushing around the front of the car.

His shirt front was covered in blood and as he noticed her, he hurried over and said, “You’ve got to help me. My son had an accident.”

She’d seen parents like this before, eyes wild with concern.

“Calm down, sir,” she said and walked beside him to the back of the car, intent on helping them into the emergency room where someone could take care of them.

“He fell and hit his head. There’s so much blood,” the man said, his actions jerky. Voice tight with emotion.

At the back of the SUV, he pulled open one of the doors and said, “He’s back here. I’m afraid to move him.”

Liliana brushed past the agitated man to get a look at his child, but the rear of the car was empty.

Before she could turn to face the man, a sharp sting came against her arm, and suddenly all her body functions seemed to be scrambled. She battled the sensation, realizing that this might be the man Mick had warned her about.

He was on her immediately, encircling her in his arms, but even in her weakened state, she tried to fight him, rocking back and forth to loosen his grip on her. Slamming her heel into his instep and earning a pained grunt.

Another sharp blast came, this time at the side of her neck. Her body bucked from the force of it and her knees gave way, nearly upending both of them, but she continued to struggle, knowing that one of the hospital security guards was barely yards away at the entrance to the emergency room.

Her assailant cursed at her continued resistance and pounded her body against the back door of the SUV as her vision faded.

Then another jolt of electricity surged through her system and plunged her into total blackness.

* * *

The chirp of his phone roused Mick from the peaceful bliss of her arms. Not an alarm, but a phone call he knew from the ring.