Surrender (The Command Series Book 3) (27 page)

“I thought you CIA guys were supposed to be experts in torture.”

“Let’s not talk about that.” Her great timing had struck a nerve. When he sat up, it forced her to do the same. Then a ringing sound broke the tense moment. Her phone, not his.

One of the Osterhägen pilots had gotten sick, and the captain was hoping Olivia could fill in so Shawn and Kara wouldn’t have to postpone their honeymoon.

“What do you think?” she asked Ethan. “Is that safe?”

“It’s fine.” Only it meant she’d be gone for the next week. Not that Ethan knew where he’d be either. Shit, this was going to be hard to figure out, but he was more than willing to try.

When she hung up, she stared off absentmindedly. “I need to pack.”

Right. He rose from the bed and promptly smashed his head into the ceiling.
Again.
“Fucking hell.”

“Are you a slow learner?” she teased. “Where are you going?”

“Let me grab a shower and I’ll get out of your way.”

She flung back the covers, exposing every inch of her insane body to the sunlight and his eyes. “Get the fuck back in bed, Agent Foster. We have unfinished business.”

She was so goddamn right.

He finished his coffee while he was seated across from her at the hightop table in the bakery beneath her apartment. After he’d fallen asleep last night, she’d hung up their clothes, which was good. He was happy to do a walk of shame in his suit today, without or without the wrinkles, but a wrinkled suit might stand out. He’d put his tie in a pocket and left the top buttons of his shirt open, trying not to look so formal so he could blend.

Hard to blend with her, though. Not just because of her looks, but she had on her Osterhägen flight crew uniform. Black pants, white shirt with bars on the shoulders, a deep red scarf at the neck. Beneath that uniform, there was a lacy pink bra and matching underwear. Her tough, almost tomboy attitude was on the outside, but a girl was beneath it all. Sexy. He needed to stop thinking about it.

“What’s your plan for the day?” she asked, finishing a croissant. She’d been grilling him all morning about his parents, his sister, how the CIA recruited him his junior year at Kentucky. Now it was time to focus on the present.

“I have a briefing this afternoon.” At the field office that wasn’t too far from this café. “Where’s the honeymoon?”

“Monaco.”

“Sounds nice.”

“Ethan,” she said abruptly, like the thought just occurred to her, “does Laurel even remember what happened to her? You said she had amnesia.”

“It was temporary. She’s never told me, and I suspect not Jason either, but she remembers.”

There had been terror in Laurel’s eyes that she’d quickly hidden, when she saw Ethan for the first time outside of Croatia.

“Why wouldn’t she—?” Olivia’s face saddened. “She doesn’t want Jason to know what she went through.”

Ethan had a darker theory. He’d had to threaten the marshal’s life when Jason came between him and Ethan’s asset. That tense moment, with guns drawn, had to have been scary for her.

“I think she’s afraid,” Ethan said, “that if she tells Jason, he’ll come after me.”

Thinking about that night, even briefly, made his headache worse. Everything after Croatia, all the pain it brought on the Dunn and Hayward families was squarely the Agency’s fault. If only someone had fucking listened when he’d told them how slippery and manipulative Juric was. That asshole had been a better liar than Ethan. He was glad Juric had gotten a bullet to the head.

Then, he shelved the thoughts, not wanting to waste time.

“What happens now?” she asked.

Her question probably had a deeper meaning to it, but he glanced at his phone. “We should probably head to the airport.”

Ethan liked seeing her in her element. She looked at home beside the large aircraft and the other crewmembers in the hangar. He scanned the environment, assessing it for threat and escape potential, habit that he’d drilled into himself over the years. Not much to look at. The hangar doors were wide open and other than an ancient-looking stair car off to the side, and the plane in the center, the space was empty.

A car slipped into the hangar, and the sound of tires gripping pavement stole his focus. A charcoal gray Audi sedan prowled forward with Shawn seated behind the wheel, Kara in the passenger seat. Behind the Audi, a beast of a dark blue BMW, but he couldn’t see the driver through the tinted windows. Both cars swung to the left and parked by the wall.

The driver of the BMW was Jason, who stepped out wearing jeans and a t-shirt, looking more relaxed than in the tux last night. On the far side of the car, a door slammed shut and then Laurel appeared from around the side. Her bright blue dress matched the pretty pair of eyes above it. Kara and Shawn emerged from the Audi, looking like they were ready to go into the office and not spend the next few hours traveling.

“So you’re saying,” Laurel gave a pointed look to her husband, “that if Tom wants to try ballet, you’re going to say no?”

Jason made a face. “I’m just telling you that Dunns don’t dance.”

Now it was Shawn’s turn to make a face. “I can dance.”

Jason shot a dubious look to his older brother. “Yeah, I’m pretty sure you proved last night that you can’t.”

Kara laughed lightly. “Where’s Tom?”

“My mom’s watching him,” Jason said.

A chime came from Shawn’s pocket, interrupting the discussion, and his new wife shot him an annoyed look. Shawn ignored it and produced the phone, examining the screen. She watched him scroll through the message, and her annoyed look morphed into a darker one at this action.

He sensed it without even looking up. “I suppose yours is off already?” he asked casually, tapping out a message.

Kara’s mouth opened as if to say something, but then her purse began to ring, and she sighed. “Is that you calling me?”

“Perhaps.”

“You’ve made your point,
Ehemann.”
Husband, she’d called him.

While Shawn flashed a smile, Olivia hovered awkwardly beside Ethan, and he understood in an instant. This was her employer and it was time for her to get to work. He wasn’t sure if kissing her goodbye was appropriate, or if she’d even allow it, but he was going to try anyway. He dropped his head down to hers and leaned in, taking her mouth without permission.

She parted her lips instinctively, and then she seemed to recollect where she was. She pulled back, her face streaked with annoyance. Not with him, though. Her head swung to the hangar doors.

“What is that idiot doing?” she groaned under her breath. Ethan followed her gaze to the fuel truck that rumbled toward the hangar. “We don’t fill in the hangar.” She abandoned him beside the tail of the plane and hurried toward the approaching truck, waving her arms. “Stop, stop.”

She’d almost made it outside when she froze into a statue, her arms motionless in mid-air.

“Ethan.” Her voice was an urgent warning. “It’s Carlo, Gio’s security guard.”

His stomach felt like it had a brick inside it. He yanked the SIG free from his holster, going on the move. “Everyone in the cars, now.”

He scanned the hangar left to right. By the doors, an airport staff member in coveralls lingered. It’d be easy to hide a gun or two beneath that baggy uniform. The truck pulled to a stop just inside the hangar bay, its engine still roaring, the driver’s side angled toward them. Doors flew open. He didn’t recognize the driver, but the passenger was the menacing Carlo, and both men’s guns came up into view. Olivia turned and fled, heading for cover behind Jason’s SUV while the rest of the flight crew panicked and stumbled up the stairs into the plane.

Gunshots.

Ethan slid into cover behind the fender of the Audi as pieces of taillights exploded onto the pavement, and the car sustained fire.

Safety off. He sighted their position as the hangar bay doors began to fold closed with a whine of metal on metal. The guy in coveralls was drawing down now, having finished activating the shutters that soon would prevent escape by vehicle.
Fuck.

When the line of bullets swept to his left and began to cut into Jason’s BMW, Ethan steadied the grip of his gun on the trunk of the sedan and opened fire, focusing on Coveralls by the door, so the man wouldn’t be able to flank. His first shot missed. How the
hell
did he miss?
The second one was center-mass, and the next was to the head. The impact pitched the body backward, headfirst to the ground.

Smooth metal was at Ethan’s back as he dropped down behind the Audi wheel well. His shots had drawn their fire back in his direction. The backseat window succumbed to the bullets and shattered, raining glass down on him. Couldn’t stay here where he was pinned down, but couldn’t move either.

Gunfire ripped from a gun on the other side of the Audi, much too close to be an enemy. Jason, returning fire. The marshal probably always carried, thank God. Ethan again slung the SIG over the car, and this time its trunk was full of holes and ricochet dents. He sank several bullets into the door of the truck the ugly, greasy-looking driver was hiding behind. Carlo was even harder to get at on the other side of the truck cab.

There was a huge crash as the hangar doors attempted to shut, jammed open by the fuel truck.

Wasting ammo, that’s what Ethan was doing. He’d burned through several more rounds before returning to cover. Shit, he was going to have to get smart quick about this. He only had the fifteen rounds in the magazine to begin with, and now it was seven at the most. When Ethan killed, it wasn’t out in the open. He was trained to be silent. The never-see-it-coming kind of kill. The two gunmen in the truck undoubtedly had more ammo, and would outlast him and Jason like this.

There was a sharp, male hiss of pain followed by a thud on the other side of the car.

“
Jason!”
Laurel screamed.

A door opened, and someone climbed out of the SUV.

Ethan dropped his shoulder to the pavement, ignoring Jason’s form slumped there to the side of his field of vision, and focused on the truck. It took two shots to hit the driver’s leg sticking out below the car door. And as Ethan had hoped, when the driver reached down instinctively for the wound, his head dipped out into view for a split second. More than enough time.

Both of Ethan’s bullets sent blood and brain splattering across the side of the fuel truck.

There were more gunshots from his side of the vehicles, but Jason was still on the cement.

When the driver went down, there was no more firing from the fuel truck. Only the sound of Carlo’s fading footsteps as he fled.

Glass crunched under Ethan’s shoes as he rounded the car, sliding the magazine out to check ammo. Two fucking bullets were all he had left. Jason was flat on his back, his left hand over the blood pouring from his right shoulder.

Olivia stood beside the truck, Jason’s Glock clenched in a fist. Holy shit, she’d gotten out of the safety of the car to help return fire. Ethan’s focus locked on Jason’s gun. “I’m almost out.”

She offered it without hesitation.

“Spare mag,” Jason said through clenched teeth, “in the console.”

Ethan holstered the SIG, snatched up the Glock, and reached in through the shattered window to access the console. His brain tried not to register that the empty infant car seat had bullet holes in it. He found the magazine quickly.

“Stay down,” he commanded, loud enough for them all to hear, and tore off for the fuel truck. Since the shutter doors had jammed shut on it, the fastest way was through the cab. Ethan barreled to the other side, sweeping his gun to make sure he was clear. Carlo had a considerable head start and was only twenty feet from a car parked against a building, clearly his target.

The trigger was spongy. The kick on the Glock was different than the SIG, too. Sharp and powerful, and he had to stop running and steady if he wanted accuracy. He shoes skidded on the pavement as he struck his stance, bracing his firing hand with his other. Carlo climbed into the car, his head disappearing from view when Ethan unleashed the full fury of the weapon.

Brake lights, followed by reverse. Carlo was still alive, at least well enough to operate the car. Ethan dropped the spent magazine from the gun and slammed the new one in, losing time as the reverse lights deactivated and the car lurched forward.