HOT SEAL Rescue (HOT SEAL Team - Book 3) (4 page)

U
ntil they reached her people
.

She wasn’t sure who it was safe to reach out to anymore, quite honestly.

Miranda turned away and looked at the buildings beginning to slip by faster and faster as they eased out of central Las Vegas and its jammed traffic. There was a store for artificial lawns that made her do a double take. But yeah, if you couldn’t afford to water a lawn out here—and how many people really could?—fake seemed to be the way to go if you wanted greenery.

Fake lawns. So foreign to her. She’d grown up in rural Alabama where the grass was greener than emeralds and the dirt was red clay. She shuddered as she thought about the dilapidated trailer where she’d lived with her parents and five sisters. Her father was a chain-smoking coal miner who worked long hours and then took out his anger on his wife and kids.

Her mother was an alcoholic who spent her days hiding the whiskey she drank and pretending she was fine when she really wasn’t. Miranda had known how to shoot a gun by the time she was five. She’d learned how to cook by age six. She’d spent long days outside, wandering wherever she pleased while her mother lay in a stupor inside the dimly lit trailer with the anemic air conditioner turned up full blast. She and her sisters missed more school than they attended. If not for Mark, she’d have never gotten her GED or gone to college.

A wave of loneliness washed over her at the thought of Mark. She’d loved him. It had been a comfortable love born of familiarity and gratitude, not a deep, romantic love that ate her up from the inside out. He’d been her friend, the one person who knew what she came from and what she refused to go back to.

And now he was gone. His body had been unidentifiable, and for a long time she’d thought maybe he’d survived the bomb blast, maybe there’d been a mistake.

But Mark would have contacted her somehow. As the months went by and he didn’t get in touch, she accepted what she’d known was true and gave up on irrational hope. Mark Reed was dead, killed on a mission to infiltrate Conti’s operations and get to the heart of the organization.

Miranda leaned her head back and closed her eyes. Her heart hurt and she was tired. Cody wasn’t stopping to get her new clothing anytime soon, and she had no way to call Badger just yet. It was two hours since she’d gone to meet with Conti, but Badger wouldn’t be expecting contact for a while because he had no idea anything was wrong.

He’d warned her when he’d given her this assignment that she’d be alone for much of it, but she’d still jumped at the chance. And now it was over and she’d gotten nothing.

She didn’t sleep, but she dozed in fits, snapping awake every few minutes or so it seemed. It was dark now, and the road had less traffic than it had earlier. She peered into the blackness. The lack of dwellings told her they were in the desert, and her belly twisted. What if this was all an elaborate setup? What if Cody the SEAL was really something else altogether?

It took her a moment to disabuse herself of that notion. The man was military, no doubt about it, and he’d said he was with HOT. Yeah, that could be a lie, but how would he have known that she’d ever even heard of HOT, let alone had personal experience with them?

He wouldn’t—and still didn’t know about the personal experience part.

“Where are we?” she asked.

“Almost to the drop point for this vehicle.”

A few minutes later, he pulled into a gas station. He eased the Explorer over to where a Dodge Ram sat. “That’s our ride,” he said, putting the SUV into park and turning off the ignition.

Miranda looked longingly at the convenience store attached to the gas station. “I don’t suppose you could go in there and get me a burner?”

“No need,” Cody said, opening the door and climbing out. “Everything’s in the Ram.”

Miranda got out of the SUV. She’d put the heels back on since she had nothing else, but she hoped like hell there were some tennis shoes in that Ram. Cody got his bag and they went and climbed into the Dodge. It was a big four-door truck, gray, with comfortable seats and four-wheel drive. In the back seat, there was a shopping bag. Miranda rifled through it, grabbing the package with the phone first.

She glanced at Cody, hesitating. She didn’t want to call Badger with him sitting right there, but what choice did she have?

She ripped the plastic packaging apart, powered up the phone, and plugged it into the battery backup that was also inside the bag. After she set the phone to block the number she was calling from, she dialed the number imprinted on her brain.

Badger picked up on the second ring. “Yes?”

“It’s me.”

“Mandy? How did it go? You okay?”

She blew out a breath and ran a hand through her hair, tossing the long blond strands over her shoulders. What she wouldn’t give for a ponytail holder right about now.

“I’m okay. But the mission is a bust. He knew my identity.”

There was silence on the other end of the phone. And then Badger swore long and hard. “Where are you? I’ll send help.”

Miranda glanced at Cody. He’d eased the truck onto the highway, but of course he was listening. “I have help.”

“You do?” Badger sounded shocked.

“Yes. For now.”

“You need to come in,” he said, his voice sounding a little strained. “It’s critical we get you into protection.”

She knew it was, and yet there was something holding her back. Something not quite right about the entire situation. How had Conti known who she was?
How?

Until she figured that out, she wasn’t safe.

“I’m not ready to come in,” she said, shocking herself and Badger too if the way he sucked in a breath was any indication. Until that moment, she hadn’t really known she wouldn’t obey protocol and go in.

“Mandy—”

“No. Listen. I’ve been compromised. The mission has been compromised. There’s a leak. How else could he have found out who I was?”

“You’re right,” Badger said very quietly. “Of course you’re right. I should have never sent you. We should have found another way.”

Because they’d both wanted to find Mark’s killer and bring him—or her—to justice.

“There wasn’t another way. Besides, if I’d found the information we wanted, it would have been worth it.”

“Yes, it would have.”

She glanced at Cody. The light from the dash illuminated a strong, chiseled jaw and sculpted nose. How was it possible to look that good and not be a movie star?

“I’ll call you again in a couple of hours.”

“Tell me where you are at least. Still in Nevada?”

“’Bye, Badger.” She clicked off the line before he could chastise her.

“Badger wasn’t happy with you, I take it.”

It wasn’t a question. She tried not to be annoyed that Cody used Badger’s name so casually, but then she’d said the name in his hearing. It didn’t matter though, because Badger was a code name, not a real name. She knew Badger’s real name. But that was irrelevant right now.

“Not really.” She ran a hand over her head, tucking her hair behind her ears. “I don’t think either one of us can quite believe I’m not going in.”

“Something doesn’t feel right or you would. Am I right?”

Miranda let out a shaky sigh and turned to look at his profile. His ridiculously handsome profile. “Yes.”

“Care to talk about it?”

She closed her eyes and wished she had a cigarette. But she’d given those up years ago. Sometimes she missed the nicotine filling her lungs and sending calming vapors throughout her body. Poisonous vapors, but still.

She shouldn’t talk, and yet what did she have to lose? She no longer trusted the agency. She had no one to turn to. She was out in the cold, and it felt very, very odd. She just wanted to rewind the clock, have her meeting with Conti, and get the information she needed.

“He shouldn’t have known who I was. This mission… it’s off the books. Small scale, tightly controlled. Few people know anything about it.”

“Then you need to decide which one of them betrayed you.”

Her heart thumped. Yes, that was the only explanation. But why? Money?

Probably. Conti was wealthy, and this wouldn’t be the first time he’d bought his way out of an investigation. Grease some palms, pay off an agent or two.

God, it was disgusting to think about.

“I don’t know everyone involved. There’s Badger, of course. A couple of others in the chain—beyond that, I don’t know.”

“Could it be personal? Or is it more that someone doesn’t want Conti taken down?”

Miranda bit her lip. She’d been thinking about that—and the truth was she didn’t know the answer.

“I wish I knew.”

“Piss anyone off lately?”

Miranda snorted. “All the time. But trying to get me killed for it is a bit extreme.”

Cody looked thoughtful for a moment. “Depends on who you pissed off.”

She shivered. Yeah, that was certainly true. She’d pushed hard for justice for Mark, and she hadn’t made friends over that. Not that anyone wanted an agent’s death to go unpunished, but sometimes there was more at stake than immediate arrests.

She knew that, and she was fine with it. But it was time to bring down Conti’s organization. Past time. He was a cancer that needed cutting out before it was too late.

“You hungry?” Cody asked, snapping her out of her thoughts.

She blinked at him. Her stomach answered on cue with a growl. “I could eat.”

“There should be energy bars in the console—but if you want something more substantial, I know of a diner not too far from here. I can get us some takeout.”

She processed everything he said, looking for the angle—and then she cursed silently. There was no angle. He was helping her. Taking care of her. Because he was HOT, and a SEAL. She wasn’t used to it, didn’t know how to act.

“Sure. Sounds good.”

Fifteen minutes later, he pulled up in front of a diner and switched off the ignition. She watched with interest—and a touch of disappointment—as he pocketed the keys. But really, what would she accomplish by ditching him here? She’d be alone, and there was no one she could call. She didn’t think Badger was out to hurt her, but if she called him for help, he’d have to get other agents involved—and that’s where the uncertainty lay.

“What do you want? Burger? Chicken sandwich?”

“Club sandwich if they’ve got it.”

“Fries?”

“Definitely.”

“Something to drink?”

“Sweet tea, but since I know they don’t have it because nobody understands how to make it outside of the South, I’ll take water.”

He snorted a laugh. “Was that actually humor? Are you softening toward me?”

Warmth suffused her for some silly reason. “You’re turning me into a puddle, Cody McCormick. I’m as soft as a stick of butter in a cast-iron skillet.”

This time his laugh was more pronounced. “Careful, Miranda. You might actually like me before this is over if you aren’t.”

She crossed her arms in mock defense. “No way.”

He opened the door and stepped out. “Way,” he said, grinning.

Her pulse jumped as he shut the door and strolled into the diner. Handsome asshole.

T
hey reached
the designated safe house around one in the morning. It wasn’t much more than a shack really, located in the middle of an arid landscape. They weren’t far from the Grand Canyon, though far enough. The house was small, tucked away on a plot of land where nothing grew other than scrub and cactus.

Cody stood in the kitchen and dialed his HOT brothers. Viking answered this time.

“Good to hear,” he said when Cody informed him they’d arrived at the safe house. There was a pause. “We did a little digging on Miranda Lockwood.”

Cody watched the bedroom door where Miranda had disappeared. She’d been quiet when they’d arrived. Lost in her own thoughts. He’d actually thought she was warming up after the visit to the diner, but she’d gone silent again as the hours ticked by.

“Yeah? And?”

“And the CIA nearly had a shit fit when her name was mentioned.”

Cody’s neck prickled. “Really? Did they say why?”

Viking sighed. “You aren’t going to like it. They say she’s gone rogue. Say she’s dangerous and not to be trusted. They also want to know where she is so they can bring her in.”

The prickling sensation grew stronger. “Did you tell them?”

“No. But man, Mendez wasn’t happy when that phone call was done. He looked like he’d swallowed a nest of angry hornets.”

Cody didn’t like to think of Colonel Mendez unhappy. He’d seen the skipper angry once, and it had been memorable. Not something you wanted to call down on yourself, that’s for sure. The dude was legendary in HOT—and legendary in spec ops.

Since Cody’s team had joined HOT—the first SEAL team to do so—he’d learned a lot about the Army colonel in charge, though not as much as there was to know. He suspected that nobody would ever know the full story of Mendez. The legend was enough.

“Mendez doesn’t believe she’s turned rogue, does he?” It was intuition that told him that much, but he knew it was true. If Mendez had believed it, Cody and Miranda wouldn’t have made it this far. They’d have been picked up hours ago.

“Nope. But there’s something going on, something big, and you’re going to have to lie low out there for a few days while we figure it out.”

“Roger that—but is this something we’re officially involved in now?”

“Officially? No. But we aren’t turning her over. Yet.”

Yet
. That was the word Cody didn’t care for. “I don’t think she’s gone rogue. I think she’s scared of something.”

“We’ll do what we can. You know that.”

“Yeah.”

“Hey, Cage says if you didn’t want to go to the wedding, you could have just said so.”

Cody laughed. “Tell him I’ll be there.” It was a week away. Surely he wouldn’t still be holed up in the desert with a sexy CIA agent by then. HOT would figure out what was going on, and it would all be over.

“Hooyah. We’ll be in touch.”

Cody hung up and went over to the bedroom door. He stood there for a long moment before knocking. When there was no answer, he knocked again, his pulse kicking up. Surely she wouldn’t run out on him now. It would be foolish to try to escape out here in the middle of nowhere. He had the keys, so she couldn’t take the truck. And leaving on foot was a suicide mission.

Still, he shoved the door open when there was no answer. It took a moment, but the trickle of water in the shower told him where she’d gone. He had to be sure, however. He didn’t really know Miranda Lockwood, didn’t know that she wouldn’t try to escape. She could have turned the shower on to throw him off his game.

Cody strode toward the bathroom door. It was open a few inches, and there was steam rolling through it. He heard nothing beyond the water, however. Nothing to indicate there was anyone in the shower.

He stood, straining to hear her—and then he pushed the door open all the way. At the same moment, the shower stopped and the curtain squealed open on plastic rings. Miranda blinked, her golden eyes wide, her body glistening with moisture.

He couldn’t tear his eyes away. Her blond hair was piled on top of her head, the ends damp and clinging to her face. Her breasts were firm and round, her nipples stiff in the cool air wafting over them after the hot shower. Her waist dipped inward before her hips flared out in an exaggerated curve. Her skin was creamy, pale. She trimmed. That was his first thought when his gaze landed on the triangle between her legs. Her hair was short, golden, trimmed almost bare but not quite. He could see her pussy lips, the pink clitoris between them.

His dick grew instantly hard.

“What the fuck?” she demanded, grasping a towel and hiding her assets.

It was too late for his dick, but he swallowed and tried to regain his equilibrium. “I thought you’d tried to escape.”

Her face was red, and not just from the shower he’d bet. She wrapped the towel tightly around her and held on to it as if he planned to rip it away in the next moment.

“Why the hell would I do that? Where would I go? In case you haven’t noticed, there’s nothing but desert in all directions.”

He had noticed. But it was dark, so he wasn’t sure she had. “I don’t know what you’re thinking, sunshine. Could be anything.”

“If I was planning to run away, I wouldn’t slink off into the night. I’d put my fucking gun to your head and demand the keys, asshole.”

He held up both hands, partly to keep her gaze from straying to his crotch. If she saw his response to her naked body, she’d be even more pissed. “Hear you loud and clear, babe.”

“Fine. Now get out and let me dry off. And don’t call me babe.”

He backed away, then stopped and met her angry gaze again. “Just for the record, you put a gun to my head and this isn’t going to end well for you.”

Because it had to be said. She was a trained operative, but so was he. And he wasn’t going down easy.

She stared at him evenly. “I don’t plan on it, cowboy. For now, you’re all I’ve got.”