The Shadow of Mudflap (A Foxtrot Team Novel #1) (11 page)

“As of last night, Tech was ranked number twelve and A&M was ranked number six.”

Midway through the season, it was still anyone’s championship to win, unless someone managed to sabotage the Texas Tech team mentality before they got to that point. So far, no one had been hurt, but as they got closer and closer to the end of the season, how long could they count on that being the case?

Mudflap

Pulling into the parking lot of Stetson’s apartment complex, Mudflap was surprised to see Benny, the quarterback, crawling out of his low-slung sports car. He lifted his hand to wave at the kid, but was more focused on the sleek car. Damn, that thing probably cost more than he made in a couple years on firefighter’s salary.

Shaking his head in wonder, he headed toward Stetson’s apartment. Benny must be visiting someone in the same building because he headed the same direction. He waited for Mudflap to catch up to him.

Mudflap motioned to the car. “Nice wheels you have there.”

“Thanks, it’s a guilt gift from my dad, but I’m not going to complain. If it makes him feel better to share, I’ll take it.”

Mudflap gave a low chuckle. “Don’t blame you there.”

Benny stopped at the door next door to Stetson’s apartment and Mudflap gave him a wave of his hand as he said, “You have a good night.”

Benny had a mischievous gleam to his eye when he said, “I fully intend to. Thanks.”

About an hour later and the poker game still hadn’t started. Everyone milled around Stetson’s surprisingly modern apartment. Stetson was as good old boy as they come, but his apartment was filled with black leather, chrome, and modern art. Right now everyone was enjoying the atmosphere, shooting shit, and drinking beer while they waited. TC and Michael were both joining the game for the first time and the guys were getting to know them. Plus, Derek was late so they were holding off play until he arrived.

TC was still barely talking to Mudflap. In fact, he’d brought his own car tonight. From what Mudflap had been able to ascertain about that night TC had awakened from a really erotic dream with Misty giving him a blow job. He hadn’t quite been raped, but he still blamed Mudflap. On top of the job and the situation, TC was a little bit stressed. Mudflap hoped that having him here tonight would help him to release a little bit of the tension he’d been carrying. The prank with the practice jerseys certainly hadn’t helped anything. The general consensus was some A&M students thought it would be fun and broke into the locker room.

Mudflap glanced across the room to see TC grinding his teeth as Riley jabbered at him. Knowing Riley, he was talking shit about A&M trouncing Tech in the standings, even though they were ranked only a few spots from each other. Rolling his eyes, Mudflap went to rescue TC. He pulled Michael along with him, figuring a diversion might be needed.

As they walked up to the two, Mudflap heard the tail end of Riley saying, “…and that’s why the Aggies are gonna kick Tech’s ass.”

The look of relief that crossed TC’s face as he saw reinforcements was almost laughable. “TC, I don’t think you’ve met Michael. He’s working at my old fire station and is a huge football fan.”

The two shook hands and began to talk shit about football and what pro teams were looking good so far this year. Riley glowered at Mudflap, obviously disgruntled about not being able to drive home about how much his beloved Aggies were going to rule the college championship this year. Mudflap just smirked at him. Maybe if they infused enough new blood into the poker game, they could kick Riley out. He could only hope.

The doorbell rang and Stetson opened the door for Derek. Finally, they could get this poker game going. Within five minutes they were all seated around the table and Stetson was dealing out the cards. There was some general discussion about Grant since he’d finally awoken from his coma this week. He still had a long recovery ahead of him, but things were looking much more positive for him.

Suddenly the most tortured howl sounded out over the building. The pain in it sent a chill across his shoulders and raised the hair on the back of Mudflap’s neck.

“What the hell?” Riley muttered, just as another inhuman howl slid through the air.

Mudflap shuddered before it occurred to him who might be howling. He met TC’s stricken gaze. “Your quarterback is next door and that’s where that’s coming from.”

Mudflap sprang out of his seat. Someone was torturing Benny. Maybe this is what all the intel was about. He drew his gun out of his holster under his sweatshirt and barreled out the apartment door, ignoring Stetson who yelled, “Wait!”

When he got to the door, it was locked, but with the tortured sounds coming from inside, he wasn’t going to let that stop him. He pulled his leg back and kicked the doorframe in, feeling the presence of the other guys behind him. They’d provide plenty of back-up for him.

But as he barreled into the room, searching for danger, he wasn’t sure what that back-up would do for him. He took in the scene before him in complete and utter shock. A gorgeous brunette stood before him in stiletto heels, lots of leather, fishnet, and a short whip swaying in her hand. Obviously, she’d been using that whip against Benny, who was tied up to a chair with his back arching and his chest and thighs covered in red welts. But if the size of his erection was any indication, he was far from being tortured by that whip. No, he was definitely enjoying it.

From behind him, he heard Derek mutter, “You know, the way you’ve been drawing that gun on naked people this week, I’m beginning to think maybe your dry spell is beginning to affect your predilections. You used to be much more tolerant.”

Stetson’s chuckle was followed by, “This isn’t the first time he’s had his gun on someone naked? This week? What the hell are y’all doing over at Mudflap’s house?”

“Well, fuck,” TC muttered, as Mudflap slid the gun back into the holster.

Benny must have heard him too, because he lifted his head, his face a bright red, and this time not from the flogging. “Um, hi, Coach.”

Mudflap felt sorry for the guy. His voice had cracked with embarrassment, but on second thought, he may just be that hoarse from all the screaming he’d been doing. Christ, this was unbelievable. Mudflap ran a hand over his face and glanced back at the splintered doorframe.

“Stetson, can I borrow some tools so I can fix your neighbor’s doorframe?”

Stetson smirked at Mudflap before turning to the girl. “Sorry, Brooklynn, I tried to let them know before he broke in the door, but he was sure you were killing the guy. We’ll get this fixed and you all can get back to—” he glanced back down to the trussed up Benny, “well, whatever.”

The girl sent them all a scathing look and Mudflap was pretty positive she was wishing she could use that whip on the lot of them, but not in a fun way. Fuck, he really could have done without seeing this tonight.

It took another hour before the door frame was repaired enough for the night and the guys could get back to their game.

Of course, Riley started in first. “So Coach, I think I may understand the problem you have with Tech’s football program.”

From the look TC sent to Mudflap, he would be lucky if he was allowed back in his own house by the end of the night. Fuck.

Halftime Texting

Mudflap
: Ever been into anything kinky?

(short pause)

Shanae
: What kind of question is that?

Mudflap
: Sorry. I just saw something tonight and while it was a bit horrifying at the time…

Shanae
: What? You can’t leave me hanging with that.

Mudflap
: Sorry, I haven’t gotten much sleep this week. My mind wanders to places it shouldn’t go.

Shanae
: Are you okay?

Mudflap
: Yeah, just tired. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have bothered you.

Shanae
: That’s okay. Next time I see you, I’ll have to spank you for it, though.

Mudflap
: Groan. Now, I’m definitely not going to get any sleep.

Shanae

Oh four hundred hours and Shanae was sitting in the HQ conference room at LiFT, waiting for a debriefing. Something with the mission must have changed to call them all in so early this morning. Right now, they were waiting for Daniel to arrive.

Glancing around the room, most of her team was seated, although no one appeared to be thrilled to be here. In fact, most of them looked to be half-asleep in the dim lighting as they sat in silence. Cord was fully asleep and actually drooling on the table where he’d laid his head. Nasty. She needed to remember to never sit on that side of the table again.

They would have a hard time convincing anyone that they were all elite government agents right now. She took another long sip of her coffee.

Finally, the door opened and Daniel strode in with Michael on his heels. She hadn’t seen him since he’d gone undercover at the fire department. The team perked up and Shanae fought a giggle when Cord surreptitiously wiped the drool off the table and his face.

Daniel immediately jumped into the dissemination of the latest information. “Quirk has been working on decoding the information from the Intrepids via the microchip Shadowfox recovered. Included in that were several emails between the leader of the Intrepids and this man.” Daniel pushed a button and a photo popped up on the screen. “That is the Magistrate.”

The blurry photo of the non-descript white man wearing a cap had been taken from a long distance. Shanae could walk right up to the guy in this photo and sure as hell never recognize him. “That’s all you’ve got?”

“Yep, that’s the best photo we have of him, but it’s better than nothing. We think this may be the new leader of ALT and he’s been pressing on the Intrepids. Our sources tell us he wants them to take on more risk on behalf of ALT. Obviously they’ve been resisting.” He pushed a button and the burned out bar showed on the screen.

“We think the firebombing at Mickey’s Bar was ALT’s retaliation. The good news is the Intrepids are not a group to forgive and forget and we can use this to our advantage. This may be our chance to get them to cooperate with us. We have our man inside— DEA agent, Slade— and we’re working other angles to approach the group.”

Relief that Slade was safe flooded Shanae. She raised her hand. “I could do some investigating as Shay if we know where they’re hanging out now.”

“Right now they’re keeping a low profile and regrouping, but we’ll keep that option open. Good idea, Shadowfox.”

“Thank you, sir.”

“In the meantime, we have something else that needs your attention on a personal level. We need to use your connection to the firefighter, Mudflap. There’s something interesting going on there and we need to find out what it is.” He redirected his attention to Michael who continued to stand behind and slightly to the side of their leader. “Michael, if you will explain…”

Michael then continued to explain the events of the night before at the guys’ poker party with Mudflap, his gun, and the naked quarterback. Shanae held in the snort that wanted desperately to escape. That explained the odd text she’d received from Mudflap last night. She hadn’t been able to resist responding when she saw the unusual question. That was quickly becoming a real problem— she couldn’t resist the guy.

Daniel said, “Shadowfox, what we need you to ascertain is why Mudflap felt there was a danger to the quarterback and why he was armed for such an occasion. It’s possible TC is simply leery after the last coach’s departure, but with Mudflap suddenly working for the team and armed, there seems to be more going on. Your job is to figure out what that is, what he knows, and who’s feeding the brothers information.” He shot Shanae a concerned look. “We assumed the shooting last week at the golf course was targeted toward you. Now that has been brought into question. It’s very possible Mudflap was the target. We need to know what he’s gotten himself mixed up in.”

“Finally,” he flipped the screen to show a mound of maroon-dyed jerseys, “we have this bit of mischief— that we don’t think is mischief at all. The Aggie Militia is a new group in Texas. All our information right now says that they are still a rag-tag operation out to ruffle some feathers, mainly The Red Raiders. From our intel, the primary goal of this group is to ensure the National Football Title goes to Texas A&M…through any means necessary. We need to contain them and catch them before things escalate.”

Andrew, the team doctor and assassin, asked, “Do we think the Aggie Militia is working for ALT?”

“We haven’t been able to make that connection yet, but it’s certainly not out of the realm of possibility, since that’s the way ALT likes to work. We’ve made a connection between this group and this local man.” Daniel pressed a button and a good-looking, clean cut, muscular, blond man appeared on the screen. The photo had obviously been taken as he was leaving his gym. “This is a local lawyer named Riley Banks.”

“He was at the poker game last night.” Michael studied the photo of the man.

“Yes, we want you to exploit that connection if you can.”

Michael gave a slight nod.

“Shadowfox, we’re going to use your skills on this one, too. We need you to approach Riley at the Boots & Belles Gala this weekend, show a romantic interest in him, and see if you can get close enough to go home with him and search his house.”

Her stomach clenched. She didn’t want to sleep with anyone besides Mudflap. She didn’t even want to pretend she was interested in someone else, even though that was regularly something she had to do for her job. What was up with that? She’d never cared when she dated Seth. The job always came first. Shock took her breath at that realization. This wasn’t good.

In moments of weakness, like texting last night, she let herself consider the possibility of more with Mudflap. She needed to remember her job didn’t allow for relationships with civilians. Mudflap would never understand that sometimes her body had to be sacrificed for the job. Seth had known and even understood that it was just sex, but he sure hadn’t liked it. With a guy like Mudflap, she’d have to make a choice…him or the job. She needed to remember this when she was tempted by him.