Walker (Bad Boys of X-Ops #1) (5 page)

“So about that STD . . .”

“Fuck off already and give me a destination.”

“Someplace safe.” I peeked through the windows. “Where are we anyway?”

“Scandinavia. Why? You got a location in mind so I can drop down?”

“Something like that.”

Undisclosed Location, United States

“HEY, KEMOSABE,” I SPOKE into my burner phone.

“Walker,” Hunter replied, and I could literally hear him exhaling through his nostrils in exasperation.

“I need a favor.”

“Not sure I wanna know.” I bet he was clenching his jaw and grinding his teeth.

“Great.” I kept talking. “So, I need a place to stay for a few days, off the grid.”

He growled. “Where exactly are you right now?”

“On your doorstep.” I gave Jade the thumbs up as I pocketed my phone.

Funny. She looked just about as unimpressed as Hunter had sounded.

Storm, Bane, and Justice had done the drop-and-ditch like they couldn’t wait to get rid of us. Too bad their hands were fucking dirty, too.

Hunter whipped open the door, scowling,
natch
. “You’ve gotta be fucking kidding me.”

“Nice to see you, my friend.” I clapped him on the shoulder, bracing myself just in case he decided to throw a punch.

He quickly shut the door, herding us farther back on the front porch of his sprawling house in the woods of Mt. Pleasant, South Carolina.

“Not nice to see you,” he bit out.

“C’mon. This is so much better than the last time I showed up. Remember me and you with the pump action rifle?” I held up my hands. “Look. No firearms. See? I’m growing as a person.”

He barely snorted before turning his gold-tinted eyes to Jade and Majedah. “And what, pray tell, are these?”

“Hostages?” After fishing in my pocket for cigs and a lighter, I inhaled the smoke and blew it out. “You may recall her eminence, Majedah Chehab, from the nightly news and society page shit. And of course you remember the unforgettable Jade Huntington.”

Crossing his arms over his chest, Hunter glared at the three of us.

He nodded curtly at the women and said through tight-lips, “Jade.”

“Hunter. Not a pleasure. As always.”

I opened my mouth to explain, but Hunter cut me off.

“Not a fucking word. You got three days. You can stay at Jessica’s empty house.”

“Speaking of JB, she inside?”

“Yup.” He raised one eyebrow, blocking the doorway with his body.

“Mind if I come in and say hi to the missus?”

“Yup. I mind.”

“Damn. You’re really not taking any chances with this civvy lifestyle thing,
huh
?” I crushed my cigarette underfoot then tossed it behind the bushes lining the front porch.

“Nope, I’m not. So, thanks, Tonto, for leading the enemy straight to my doorstep.” Once again Hunter pinned Jade with his undeviating stare.

“Who? Her?” I hooked my thumb toward the Ministry specialist. “She’s harmless. A pussycat.”

Jade snarled, a very un-kitten-like sound.

Hmm
.

Hunter stepped inside the door with a finger pointed at me. “Meant what I said. You stay put while I get the keys.”

“Is that anyway to treat your ex-partner?”

He ducked his head outside. “You know I’ll save your ass if you need it. But
you’re
the Lone Ranger this time.”

“Got it. I know you have the wife and the kid and the detective gig. Not here to rock your boat.”

Hunter handed me the keys. “Don’t blow up her house. We still have to put it on the market.”

“Yes, sir.” I smirked. Then I held out my hand. “Thanks, Ghost. I mean it. Buy you a drink sometime.”

“Make that sometime tonight. At Retribution. Assuming Jade doesn’t slit your throat first.”

Jade returned his evil grin. Great. Saved the woman from certain death, now she had plans to icepick me in the back of the skull. Not a surprise.

We started down the steps, Hunter calling out, “And don’t touch—or torch—my new Tahoe!”

“No worries. Got a rental.” I jerked my chin toward the SUV that looked similar enough to his.

His eyes narrowed and his lips thinned. “You mean you stole it.”

“Same thing.” I shrugged. “These fingers work way better than Hertz.”

“Only in your world.”

“And what a great fucking place it is to be.”

****

I’d been to JB’s house once or twice before so navigating through the Mt. Pleasant streets was a fucking cakewalk after the bullshit in Beirut. Last time I’d been here had been the night Vincent Valderas of the former Tampa Bay Outlaws had kidnapped JB right after Thanksgiving.

That was nearly four months ago, but the cheery yellow house hadn’t changed a bit, except now shoots of flowers broke through the grass, preparing for the early appearance of spring in the south.

We grabbed our bags—an emergency travel pack each—and I let us into the cottage. Hitting the lights, I didn’t bother giving the grand tour of the dainty and pretty rooms. No doubt Jade would have the premises cased in ten seconds flat.

I picked a bedroom upstairs, returned to find Jade and Madge whispering in the kitchen, and felt in my pocket for my smokes. “I’m going out back to light one up. Either one of you even thinks about fleeing, I’ll hunt you down. And the punishment won’t be pretty.”

“He needs lessons in diplomacy,” Madge commented.

“Be my guest. I find most Americans untrainable.” Jade sneered, and under the overhead kitchen light, her delicate-looking Monroe piercing glimmered.

I rarely ever noticed the little silver ball above the left corner of her mouth, but I appraised it now with a long slow look. The piercing was edgy but, suddenly, distinctly feminine, like a beauty mark.

I tore my gaze away from the lips I’d kissed just once. And once was not enough.

“
Native
American,” I corrected before heading onto the small back porch.

I lit up and worked on polluting the air. What I wouldn’t give for a nice glass of single malt whisky. Make that a bottle. I leaned against the railing, taking in the sky dotted with glowing pinpricks of stars.

Mid-February in South Carolina—perfect for a run on my Indian Scout. I’d only bought and restored the bike for the tongue-in-cheek of it, but damn if it wasn’t a motorcycle to die for. I hadn’t had my legs wrapped around that sweet bitch—or any sweet bitch—for months. The sleek black 1949 Scout, a headturner on the road, was stored in the garage on the property I owned, but rarely visited, deep in the Northwest.

“Suburbia Central, United States, Walker?” Jade joined me outside.

Talk about buzz kill. But not really. Somehow thoughts about Jade had begun to invade my consciousness over the years, replacing other memories of a simpler life when I’d been a hell of a lot younger.

Jade stole my fucking breath. God, the woman was sexy. We’d never been in close quarters long term before—because then one of us would have no recourse but to kill the other one, just because. T-Zone and the Special War Ministry of the UK weren’t natural enemies. But more often than not Jade’s and my missions turned out to be in direct opposition.

Months of cagey animosity had bred between us.

But whatever.

We were here now, and Jade was stunning.

The long black hair cascading to her ass. Her ass that looked sleek and taut. The curve of her hips, the indent of her waist, and a nice pair of tits she couldn’t hide whether she wore desert camo or full black body armor.

Damn but I’d like to see her in a dress.

Her mouth with the tiny silver piercing that drew my attention again. I wanted to wrap my lips around it then move lower and dip my tongue inside her mouth . . .

Who didn’t want to fuck their very own assassin?

Hmmm
. Maybe I had a death wish after all.

I turned back to stargazing and smoking instead of staring and drooling. “Not my usual choice of hideouts.”

“I’m glad to hear it. Next thing I know you’ll be doing a Hunter and getting married, having kids, settling down.” She shuddered.

She was different than . . .

Well, she was different.

Maybe I’d worn my grief for too long. Pining for what was lost meant I didn’t really have to feel again. Because feeling made you sloppy. Got you hurt.

I shook my head to clear it of thoughts I didn’t want clouding my perception.

“What can I do you for?” I asked.

“Care to tell me what you’re planning yet?”

“No. Next question.”

“You are not in charge of this operation! Majedah is under my guard.” Jade fired up beside me.

I chuckled. “Doesn’t look that way. I’m the one who got us out of the danger zone and to a safe house.”

“You’re a bastard and a
pig
.” She popped me in the chest with her fist, but at least it wasn’t her Beretta.

“I feel like we’ve done this dance before, Jade.” I stomped on my cig butt and kicked it away. “What were your orders for her.”

“Deliver her to the Ministry, alive.”

“And how do you know their intentions are honorable?” Tilting her chin higher, I leaned down with my mouth brushing her cheek.

Jade’s breath sped across my ear—fast and hard. “The
alive
part. Everyone else, including you, wants her dead.”

“What do you think they’ll do once they have her?
Hmm
, Jade?” I framed my hands around her face, taking in the exotic features. “What if they just want to pump her for information before they bodybag her?”

“I trust my instincts.” Her eyes dilated to dark green depths, her body shifting closer to mine.

“What do your instincts tell you about me?”

She moistened her lips, her pink tongue rolling over the deep, natural red. “Run in the other direction.”

Hitching my hard arm around her waist, I dragged her to me. “You’re not running now.”

“Is that so?” she whispered, for once not trying to break free.

“Yeah.”

Something dangerous was brewing between Jade and me. Maybe even more dangerous than this mission we’d embarked on to keep Madge safe. A fire, kindling higher. We could either burn out or flame brighter, together.

“What makes you say that?” she asked.

“Because I ordered food, and I’ve been listening to your stomach growl for the past five minutes.” My hand slid down over her rear, and I squeezed before she jumped back.

“I think you’ve forgotten who you’re up against, arsehole.”

“Not a chance. I’m sleeping with a knife under my pillow.”

“Good idea.”

I opened the door and ushered her inside. “After you.”

I’d been right about the need for nourishment. As soon as I paid the delivery dude, Jade attacked the paper bags, nearly juggling plates from the cupboard and silverware from the drawers. She scooped, ladled, dished up, and we sat on the floor in the living room wolfing it down.

Funny. I’d found two things two shut her up fast. Kissing her and feeding her. Doing one and watching the other were equally enjoyable. She attacked all things with a healthy, lusty appetite. It made me wonder what else she lusted after.

Majedah ate in a much more refined manner, curiously sniffing and inspecting before each bite. “What is
thees
?”

Her accent came out at odd times, usually she spoke with a more rarified, cultured eloquence.

“Indian take out. Not
Indian
like me, you know, but India. Food. Curry, biryiani, good stuff.” I shoveled in another forkful and swallowed after two chews. “Thought it’d make you feel more at home.”

“I’m Lebanese.”

“We’re in South Carolina. This was the closest I could get.” I reclined on my elbow, scooping up the fiery saffron juices with a piece of naan bread. “Greasy, fatty, meaty. Eat it.”

With the plates scraped clean, Jade patted her belly. “What I wouldn’t give for a—”

“Drink.” I produced a bottle of Highland Park whisky and three glasses I set on the coffee table between us.

Jade tilted her head, smiling. “I hate you a little less now, Walker.”

I poured out the alcohol, quickly downing mine. “Keep that thought, because I’m about to lock you up for a few hours.”

“What?” Jade screeched, mid-drink.

“But you can keep the bottle.”

“You are a dead man.”

Don’t I know it, baby
.

Divine Retribution

YEAH. I LOCKED THEM up inside the guest room at JB’s cute suburbanite house. Handcuffed them on the floor side-by-side to a pair of old-fashioned, heavy-framed bedsteads.

What? I gave them a pee break first. And the bottle of whisky. And one free hand each to drink from it. Not like they were hurting.

After disarming Jade once again, and removing the wicked-looking chopstick things from Madge’s hair that could easily be used as picklocks, I stood and inspected my handiwork. Jade screeched some more, and Madge flung her very own, very colorful insults in Arabic.

“Play nice now,” I said before quitting the room.

“Retribution will be yours, Walker!” Jade yelled.

“Funny. That’s exactly where I’m headed.”

Time to walk the line with Hunter. Didn’t know what I had to prove. I’d saved his
cojones
more times than he had mine. Just because he’d settled down in Straightville, USA didn’t mean I had to follow in his footsteps.

He’d made a clean break.

The only thing I’d escaped was my past, but it kept holding onto me.

There was a reason I avoided American soil as a rule and rarely headed out west to the plains, and the mountains, the house I’d built, and the one I’d deserted.

I mainlined danger for breakfast, and there was no room in my life for falling in love, settling down, or leaving
the life
.

Retribution MC compound looked about the same when I drove up to the parking lot. Lots of Harleys. Lots of honeys. Tattoos, booze, and the new probie.

I slipped up to the bar, unannounced, but Coletrane—Hunter’s buddy—hit me with a beer and a shot.

We bumped fists. That was that. Home away from home. I liked Cole. He didn’t do the unnecessary conversation thing, and he always got right to the heart of the matter, i.e., liquor.

Hunter cruised up before I even finished my first much-needed drink. He yanked me after him, wearing the same brooding scowl as earlier.

I sat at the semiprivate table across from him. “Isn’t marriage supposed to mellow you out?”

“This is me being mellow.” After slamming two fingers of fine scotch down his throat, he beckoned for more.

“Glad I’m single then.”

“
You’re
the one stressing me out, Walker.”

Who? Me?
I smiled innocently.

“How the hell’d you fuck up everything so goddamn fast?” Hunter worked his hands through his hair.

“Blame it on Jade,” I muttered.

“Don’t buy it. Although she is a first class ballbuster.”

“Hardcore killer.”

“Can’t leave you alone for a second, can I?”

I rubbed a hand across my mouth. Took a drink. Kicked back my chair. “
Huh
. That's funny ’cause I seem to remember being the one who dragged your ass out of a grave the past two times. Tampa? Right here in Retribution? Remember?”

“You blew up my truck,” he grumbled.

“I paid for the new one.”

“I'm giving you a place to hole up.”

I peered down at my whisky. “You didn't ask me to be your best man.”

“So you go out and get yourself involved in the middle of the first fucked up international conspiracy you can find?” His eyes rolled way,
way
back. “Because
wittle
Walker got his feelings hurt?”

“I would’ve said no if you’d asked.” I refused to look at him.

“Bullshit.”

I shrugged.

Hunter’s hand shot out and he clasped me on the shoulder. “You’re gonna be godfather—or whatever you wanna call yourself, because maybe The Godfather ain’t such a good idea after all—to Jessica’s and my children.”

“What about for Jack?” Might as well start now. Hunter already had a kid from his first non-wife.

Leaning back, Hunter folded his arms over his chest. “Done. Feel better now?”

“Yeah. Thanks. When is JB gonna start pushing them out so I can make sure to clear my calendar?”

“You are such a prima donna.”

“Am not. Just because I have long hair. I rock this Lakota shit.” Then I frowned. “Although Storm did call me a diva the other day too.” I downed my drink in one large gulp. “Whatever.”

Pulling his chair closer to the table, Hunter asked, “What are the facts?”

“Majedah is on everyone’s hit list, including mine, but she and Jade swear that's because her husband set her up.”

“
Ahhh
.
Qasim Hassan. Piece of work,
huh
? But she did marry him, willingly as far as we know, right?”

“Yeah, she did. But maybe she didn’t know what she was in for?” I curled my fingers around the whisky Cole had unobtrusively replenished. “Either way, he’s a number one cuntbag as far as I'm concerned.”

“So you think he's the one pulling the strings?” 

“And Madge is the puppet?” I slaked a hand across my mouth after an extra long drink. “Don't know. Her rep is just as bad as his.”

Hunter lifted an eyebrow. “Madge?”

“Majedah, a fucking mouthful. Besides, I think she likes the nickname.”

“Probably about as much as I love being called Kemosabe.”

“You dig that shit. Makes you feel like part of The Nation, like me.”

“Or your sidekick.”

“Which you were until you decided to go legit for life.
Loser
.” I watched folks stroll in and out of the clubhouse, noting when Boomer and Brodie Steele entered together.

The brothers were the rock solid foundation of this MC compound, which also included the family business they ran with their sister Cat—Chrome and Steele Auto Parts. The brothers’ identical ice blue eyes landed on me—Boomer had the dark-haired and dangerous thing going on, his younger brother’s blond hair and goatee at odds with the ever-present wicked gleam in his gaze.

I turned back to Hunter. “Do I stay on mission and just kill her?” Rapping my knuckles on the table, I snarled under my breath. “Blaize is gonna kick my ass at any rate, probably fire me. This could count as treason.”

“Blaize?”

“New head of The Job. Our contact at T-Zone. She’s been in the military and political rat race since she was a kid. Everyone thinks she’s a tactical genius.” I glanced at Hunter. “Storm wants to bone her.”

“Storm.” He snickered into his glass before taking a drink. “How are he and Bane?”

“Oh
Cheee-rist
. Don’t get me started. They’d rather kill each other than share frigging breathing space.”

“My guess is one of them dicked up the other one’s op.”

I gathered the cardboard beermats bearing the Retribution MC colors and insignia—a skull on the scales of justice—and started shuffling them like playing cards. “I don’t give a fuck. They shouldn’t be on the same team. Don’t know why Blaize keeps them together. Every op with those two is like undergoing bitter marriage counseling.”

“So, y’all have met her? This Blaize woman?” Hunter asked, disbelief scrawling all across his face.

“Yeah. The powers-that-be are turning over a new leaf in the life of today’s shadow soldier, it appears. Going for the personal touch. Real friendly. An absolute joy to work for.” I rolled my eyes.

“Interesting.”

“She’s kind of a shrew.”

“Maybe she can actually keep you fuckers in line.”

“Like that’s ever gonna happen.” 

Hunter scratched the stubble on his jaw, squinting at me. “So, that explosion at the Casino du Liban I heard about?”

“Not me. Not Jade. But we were there. Yeah.”

“Had your signature written all over it.”

My head jerked up. “Beg to differ. I don’t kill innocent civilians.”

“Unless you’ve had a really, really bad day.”

“That was the one time. And they weren’t all that innocent.”

Palming his drink, Hunter saluted me with it. “And what about Jade?”

“Thorn in my side.” An itch I couldn’t scratch. A wet dream, a wily spy, a hot body I wanted to sink my cock into.

“You want to fuck her. Always have.”

“
Pffft
. Want to off her.”
Get off on her, in her, all over her . . .

“
Hmm
. And yet you've had how many chances to do just that? The both of you?”

I shrugged. “Not that many times. I mean . . . what? Once in Afghanistan.” Sitting back, I ticked off my fingers. “Let’s see. What else? Oh, that time that thing happened in Yemen.” I drummed my extra fingers then sat straight up. “On the plane in the Ukraine! Oh shit, I’d forgotten about that one.” Smiling, I mumbled, “Good times.”

“You are insane. Those were not good times. You almost got yourself killed.” Hunter’s brows burrowed into the center of his forehead.

“Foreplay.”

“Death play.” He sighed and shook his head. “And now I’ve let you take over JB’s house together.” Sitting immediately completely erect, he stared at me. “You. Left. Jade. Alone? In Jessica’s house?”

“Relax.” I clinked my glass against his. “Got ’em under lock and key.”

“Jade can pick a lock, probably with her fingernails.”

“Not this time.” Ruminating while a long swallow of burning liquid slipped down my throat, I squinted across the room. “I need to find out what's really going down.”

“What’s the plan?” 

“Lay low for a few days and gather as much intel as possible.” 

“Where's your team?” he asked. 

“Hopefully heading off Blaize. Did I mention Storm wants to get into her panties?”

“Yeah. You did. And you’re deflecting,” Hunter accused.

“You’re projecting.” I jabbed back.

“You’re irritating.”

“Drink up!”

“Are you in touch with your people, Walker?”

“My people?” I chuckled low and tossed back a few shards of boozy ice. “My family, you mean? What’s left of it?”

“That’s what I mean.” Hunter never even blinked as he regarded me.

“They know I’m alive. They know I’m no good. They don’t need to know anything else.”

“Walker, what happened wasn’t your fault.”

“Yes. It was.” I ruminated into my glass, bottoming out.

“There’s more to life than getting off on danger.”

“Yep.” My lips thinned and my nostrils flared. “Had that, once. Not ready to do it again. You above all people should know what I’m talking about, Hunter.”

A newcomer in the MC shifted my attention away from morose thoughts. And I’d do anything to avoid those.

He was a tall dude who hovered in the shadows by the bar, the light barely glinting off dark auburn hair. I sensed the unsettled vibe coming from him—something I recognized in myself. And something else . . .

Buoyed again, I half stood from my seat. “That you, Bo Maverick?”

The ex-Force Recon man loped into the light. The hard planes of his face looked etched in granite until he broke a smile.

I craned forward, and he clasped my hand. “Walker. Jesus Christ. Talk about a blast from the bad past.”

“Do not say
blast
in front of Walker. He’s probably packing the plastics right now,” Hunter grumbled.

I grinned, pushing out a chair for Bo. “You’re looking well.”

“Fuck off. My brain’s in the tank. I’m hardly functioning. And I barely made it out of the last bit of hell in Helmand Province intact.” His lips pulled tight from the broad smile. “Sometimes I wish I’d been decommissioned to an early grave.”

I caught Hunter’s eyes, and he shook his head in a slight move.

“Heard about that. Those last days in Afghanistan. Your platoon.” Reaching over, I laid a hand on his shoulder. “Sorry about that, man.”

Bo took a glug from his beer and raised his eyes. “Me too. But enough of that. It’s over. What brings you to this neck of the woods?”

“Same shit. Different day.”

“He fucked up his op.” Hunter so,
so
helpfully cut in.

“Need help?” Bo looked too hungry for a mission, like it was his next high, the one that could get him out of the black hole of becoming a civilian again.

Hunter shook his head again.

“Man, if I could have you on my team I’d take you in a heartbeat. But you know the governmental—and I
do
mean mental—rigmarole. Too much red tape so we can go black ops, right?”

Bo was a specialist in the art of combat, a Marine captain. Hunter and I’d first met him overseas in one of those locales no one on the job was ever supposed to mention out loud. A Hail Mary situation we’d been called into, but I had a feeling Bo could’ve handled it himself given the right tools.