The Omega Team: Tough Target (Kindle Worlds Novella) (4 page)

Gator Lodge

Evening

“Ping his phone again. If Sam Rafferty is near here, I want to know about it.”

Camila ordered Amadeo to use the laptop she’d brought for such purpose. She had paid dearly for the personal details in the dossiers of the Omega Team, including cell phone numbers.

“Maybe this hurricane will kill his mother. I will pray for it.”

The mounting storm had Camila on edge. High winds battered the walls and the rain sounded like the gunfire in her worst childhood nightmares, when she dreamed of losing her father again and again to the violence of the drug empire he built—the vast holdings she now controlled.

Guide me, Papa. I need your strength, your cunning.

She had her men spend most of the waning hours of the day, searching for Rafferty’s mother, using flood lights after it got dark. When they found her canoe, Camila thought they’d find her body. She screamed in rage when that didn’t happen and she emptied her weapon into the boat. After that she’d been forced to wait out the storm at the closest motel. Being unfamiliar with the terrain, they would need the daylight to search.

She let her resentment fester until she couldn’t get the face of Geneva Rafferty out of her mind. Camila had inherited her father’s temper and she resented that the old woman had bested her—a lethal combination. She hadn’t expected Rafferty’s mother to turn the tables with a weapon of her own.

Now Tavio had been shot. He would have more scars on his body.

“I can feel Rafferty,” she said. “He’s here. I know it.”

Dressed in only a robe after she’d showered, Camila used tweezers to pluck the last chunk of metal from Tavio’s face and she dropped it into a plastic cup on the nightstand by the bed, buckshot from Geneva Rafferty’s shotgun. Tavio lay on his back and flinched but he didn’t make a sound. Blood filled the empty hole in his skin and drained down his cheek onto the motel’s cheap towel. Tavio had been taught to endure pain. His extreme tolerance for it had drawn them closer together, whenever she needed the…release.

Every flicker of agony in Tavio’s dark eyes was foreplay for what would come. She needed the distraction of his body—and she would have it. Perhaps she would have both of them tonight.

“That old woman nearly shot me…and you let her get away.”

She dug into his skin and twisted the tweezer tip, pulling open one of his chest wounds.

“You deserve to be punished—and more. Both of you.”

Amadeo glanced at his brother. Without a word, they communicated in the language of twins. They understood what she meant by punished. She’d seen their silent exchanges before. Camila needed someone to take the blame for how things turned out.

They were convenient.

“You were right,” Amadeo said. “His cell appears to be offline now, but it pinged cell towers near here. Not long ago. Rafferty is here.”

“He’s looking for his precious mother.” She glared at Amadeo. “Set up an alert. If he uses his cell, I want to know where he is. He’s the one I want, but there’s a bonus for you both if we get his mother, too”

Camila stared down at Tavio, who still lay on the only bed in the room. She took off her robe and let it drop to the floor. Naked, she ran her fingers across his bare chest and pushed into his gaping injuries, squeezing blood out. His body tensed, but he didn’t make a noise. The smell of his wounds drove her insane.

“I’ll have you first.”

Without asking, she undid the zipper on Tavio’s pants and kept her eyes on his.

“Do not expect me to show you mercy because you were shot.”

In truth, the heady scent of fresh blood in the muggy room had made selecting Tavio—as her first for the evening—an easy choice to make. His chest heaved as he braced for what she would demand and his pants bulged with his willing manhood. Tavio held a strange mix of titillation and fear in his gaze. She never knew which tipped the scales more for him and she didn’t care.

Camila only knew what she would have.

“Amadeo. Take off your clothes. Now.” She straddled his twin with her naked body. “Your brother will not be enough for me tonight.”

***

Everglades

An hour later

“There’s a subtle pattern of bent grasses.”

Sam studied the ground as if it were a road map. Every nuance held his attention and Kate Cypress marveled at his remarkable night vision. Over the last several hours, he’d searched for traces of his wounded mother, in a fierce storm that would have stopped any other man.

“That could be from the rain weighing the blades down,” she argued. “What pattern?”

She had to push back if she believed she was right. Geneva’s life hung in the balance. Sam’s mother would need the best the two of them could be—
together
.

“Connect the dots. Here...and through there.” Sam pointed into the shadows, seeing what only he had caught. “It’s almost a straight line…and there’s more.”

The stiff bluster battered them with stinging rain. The abuse had been steady and Kate’s skin felt a tingle of numbness. When Sam moved to a muddy puddle and knelt down, she did too.

“This straight rut is filled with water from the rain. It could be something was dragged through here.” When she didn’t look convinced, he said, “Not many people hike in this area of the glades. Someone had to be here to make the furrow…and it happened not long ago, otherwise the heavy rain would’ve washed it away.”

Like Sam, Kate had grown up near the reservation and learned from tribal leaders to respect the land and God’s creatures. She became a Fish and Wildlife special agent because she believed it had been her destiny to be a steward of the land she loved.

After she met Sam Rafferty when they were teenagers and she realized this white boy held the same respect for the land, she opened her mind to accept him into her life. A tribe wasn’t always defined by blood. Sam had the soul of a Seminole. When they were younger, he could track animals like the best hunters in her tribe. Her two brothers envied his skill.

She
had
to trust him now.

“Okay, I can see your point. Do you think this trail was made by your mother?”

“I don’t know, but we have to track it. It’s the only sign we’ve found.”

“But what if we’re wrong?”

Kate regretted saying the words that meant she had her doubts and worried about making a mistake, but if they spent time chasing nothing, Geneva could die.

Sam’s shoulders slumped. When he looked at her, she knew he had a tumble of thoughts troubling him. Old Sam might’ve blurted them out, but she didn’t know the new Sam, the skilled Navy SEAL who kept his feelings buried deep.

“Forget I said that. You’re right,” she said. “This
is
something. We have to see where it leads.”

He fixed his gaze on her.

“Try your radio again. See if you can reach dispatch. Maybe someone found her.”

Kate would do as he asked to give him peace of mind, but she knew the two-way mic that she wore on her uniform and clipped to her shoulder, it had its limitations. She had a feeling Sam knew this, too.

She’d been trying different frequencies to communicate with anyone, but she only found static. Weather, and obstructions such as downed trees and storm damage, could make communication impossible while the hurricane still raged.

“Nothing. We’re on our own,” she told him.

“Then let’s keep moving.”

They followed the tracks Sam had found for another hour until he spotted a glint in the moonlight.

“Look. There.” He pointed and rushed to a spot on the wet ground. Sam’s spirits lifted for a brief moment until he realized what he’d discovered.

“These are the shotgun shells she uses.” He picked up a handful of shells and what had been left of the cardboard box they came in. “Looks like the box got wet and broke open. She left her ammo behind.”

Kate knew by the dejected tone in his voice that Sam had arrived at the same conclusion she had. Geneva Rafferty wouldn’t have dropped something as vitally important as ammo unless she wasn’t thinking clearly or didn’t have the strength to care.

Sam had found his mother’s trail, and unlike before, he had real proof she’d been where they stood, but he had more reason to worry.

“She has to be hurt, bad,” he said.

He peered through the darkness surrounding them, looking miserable. Kate knew she had to keep him focused on the positive.

“If she brought the shells, she still has to have the shotgun. She’s armed, Sam.” Kate touched his shoulder. “She can defend herself if these bastards are after her. Everything she’s done has been smart. We’ll find her.”

Sam forced a weak smile and nodded.

“Let’s keep moving. I started out having a good hair day. I don’t want to lose the momentum.”

Hours later, they were no closer to finding his mother and the storm had escalated to gale force winds—and drew first blood.

Sam had been hit by splintered wood that embedded into his chest. Kate did her best to pull out all the shards, but Sam wouldn’t let her fuss over him. He wanted to keep searching for his mother and she couldn’t blame him.

Eventually the wind became impossible, until Kate couldn’t stand without stumbling. For every two steps, she took three back and Sam had trouble seeing anything in the murky darkness until he had to face the harsh fact.

The hurricane had wiped out any trail he’d been tracking.

“I’ve lost her,” he yelled. “And now I could be leading us in the wrong direction.”

“I’m with you, Sam, and I’m staying. Count on it.” she said, as she clung to a tree. “What now?”

“We find your truck and get out of the storm. I need time to think.” Sam shook his head. “We were close, Kate. That trail we found, it had to be Momma. I just know it.”

Kate had felt it, too.

“I’m sorry, Sam. I wish—”

He nodded.

“Yeah, me too.”

Kate knew she must have been several hours past looking like a drenched goat, but she didn’t care. Geneva had to be scared. Kate prepared to trudge on, but when Sam opened his arms and beckoned her to come to him, she couldn’t move. At first she didn’t understand why until she realized she would need his help navigating the storm’s winds back to her truck. The punch to her heart came and went.

She leaned into the wind and pushed toward him, until he grabbed her into his arms and said, “I got you.”

Something passed between them that Kate couldn’t explain. She saw it in his eyes and felt the pang of yearning in her heart. It was as if the present became swallowed by the intimacy of their past and the bridge between then and now had turned into something new. Maybe her eyes were seeing him for the first time.

They weren’t the same people. They weren’t kids anymore. Had she been wrong to cut him out of her life? The boy she thought she knew had turned into a man without her help.

“Don’t let go,” she said.

He only smiled and pulled her to his chest, holding her tighter. Sam was too much of a gentleman to remind her, but a long time ago,
she
had been the one to let go.

***

As the pelting rain hit her skin with a worsening chill, Kate leaned into Sam’s embrace and let him hold her as the storm made it nearly impossible to walk. She prayed they would find her truck soon to get out of the worsening weather, even for a short while. But the pummeling drops—and Sam’s strong hands on her body—triggered a memory that often haunted her nights.

Sam Rafferty pulled her into his warm naked body and caressed her under the steamy, wet heat of his shower. His hands buttered her breasts with herbal scented soap as he kissed her neck from behind her. When Kate leaned into him, she felt his penis stiffen against her wet skin. He slipped his soapy fingers between her legs and pressed his perfect muscled body against her.

“I want you inside me,” she begged.

Her throaty whisper echoed in his shower stall and she heard the growing intensity of passion in her voice. When she turned toward him, the feeling of her hard nipples pressed against his body sent a rush through her. As she slid her hand over his engorged cock, her fingers grasped him and ran the length of his flesh, working him into a fevered pitch.

“Oh, yeah,” he said. “Kate.”

She loved hearing him say her name in a whisper meant for only her. With his fingers covered in lather, Sam mimicked the velvet touch of her hand on his penis, and slipped his soapy fingers between her legs. He brought her pleasure until her body shuddered, wave after wave. The sounds of her mounting need came in urgent panting that grew louder than the pounding water.

When he plunged his tongue into her mouth, Kate writhed against him until he reached down and hoisted her up with both hands. She wrapped her legs around his hips, still kissing him as he pressed her against the shower tiles to hold her. He pushed his rigid cock into her and mounted her with a thrust that filled her.

“Yes, yes,” she cried as he shoved into her and she demanded more.