Wanted Molotov Cocktail (3 page)

Onyx had jammed the door open, defending it with a viciousness Hawk couldn’t help but admire. She wielded two huge military issue guns. Muscles bunched over her arms, shoulders and back with every shot of her weapons. Hawk noticed a fresh burn across the outside of her biceps, but she didn’t stop.

Sweat made her dark skin glisten in the dim lighting as all around her guards dropped one by one. To Hawk, she looked like an avenging angel. Time seemed to slow, and Hawk couldn’t pull his gaze away from her. He’d known from the moment he saw her she was the woman for him, but until this very instant he hadn’t known just how much he needed to possess her. It was completely inappropriate, more than a little dangerous to him, to her, and to Storm and his stowaway, but Hawk sported the biggest hard-on of his life.

“Don’t just stand there, get them moving!” Onyx didn’t turn her head, didn’t look at him, but Hawk knew she felt his presence. The same way he’d known she was there fighting for their freedom.

Her words spurred him on, ushering Storm out into the open area above the prison. They advanced steadily, shooting anything that moved. More than one laser singed Hawk’s skin as they fought out of the inner station back to the more crowded outer ring. Thankfully, nothing scored a direct hit and he kept moving, kept pushing Storm. Onyx was always at his back, covering them. It seemed natural to Hawk, fighting with her. He brushed her body with his continually, assuring himself she was right behind him. It went against everything in him to let her bring up the rear, but he knew the real danger was ahead of them, the numbers greater near the hangar and their ship.

“Did you get us free of the tractor?” Hawk’s question was barely audible in the ongoing chaos.

“Yes,” Onyx shouted over her shoulder. “We should be able to leave as soon as we get aboard.”

Hawk had to rely on directional postings on the bulkheads as well as his memory of the station layout to get them back to the outer station. Twice they had to double back, and it was becoming increasingly clear they had virtually no chance of getting out of the prison section alive. The longer they took getting to the ship, the more security personnel had time to meet them and prevent their escape.

Finally, finally, Hawk burst into the hangar. It wasn’t where he’d thought they’d been heading, but he’d take what he could get at this point. The ship was on the other side of the bay, but at least they had adequate cover between them and the security teams coming at them from both the front and rear.

“Go!” He waved Storm toward the ship, covering his friend by laying down fire in the general direction of their transport. Onyx moved with him, shadowing him as gracefully as any dancer. The stench of ozone permeated the air as sparks flew from the bulkheads where laser fire hit.

Hawk moved them steadily toward the ship, covering Storm as he went, careful to draw fire away from his friend and the woman he carried.

Once he knew Storm was safely aboard, he grabbed Onyx’s arm. “Move!” he shouted to her as he took a more direct route to the ship. “I’ll cover you and go around the left side.”

He didn’t wait to see if she followed his direction but continued to draw fire away from the ship and Onyx. Several times laser fire caught him but only grazed his skin. He shrugged away the pain and kept on fighting. He’d been burned by lasers before. What were a few more scars to add to the ones he already had?

When Hawk was sure Onyx had had enough time to reach the ship, he made his way there, firing several shots with every step. He backed up the ramp, closing it as he continued to pummel the security guards with laser fire until the ship was completely sealed and ready for take off.

Hawk fell back against the bulkhead for a second, breathing hard before moving into the cockpit. He started to take the copilot’s chair beside Storm, but a quick glance told him Onyx wasn’t there.

“Where’s Onyx?” His chest clenched, and for a moment Hawk thought he might throw up. What a strong space marine he was turning out to be.

“I thought she was right behind you.” Storm glanced at Hawk, his hand on the controls. They had been about to take off, but Storm hesitated. “What do you want me to do?”

Hawk spared him a sharp glance before turning to go back. The girl Storm had brought with them spoke then. Her voice was soft but slightly rusty, as if she hadn’t used it in a while. “I think she was injured. She was next to the crates by the big yellow ship docked two moorings down from us.”

She might not look like more than a prison rat, but the girl was observant.

Knowing where to look for Onyx would help tremendously.

Opening the ramp once more, Hawk went at a dead run, shooting all the while.

Storm provided cover fire from the ship which made a hell of a lot better impact than their hand-held weapons.

Laser fire sliced through the air, always just missing him. Hawk sent up a silent prayer to any god willing to listen. The number of opposing soldiers grew by the second, and their chances of getting back to the ship were slim at best. Sweat ran into his eyes, blurring his vision, but he pressed on, shutting out all discomfort. He had one goal. Find Onyx. After that, he’d worry about getting them to safety.

He found her right where the girl had said she was. Someone had scored a hit on her left thigh. The stench of burning flesh was strong. Had he not been the battle-hardened veteran he was, he might have retched.

Onyx, for her part, might not be able to make a run for it, but she wasn’t sitting by passively either. “Hand me my gun.” She barely looked up at him. Working on stuffing a ripped strip of cloth into a couple of liquor bottles, the only thing she concentrated on was the task at hand. Sparks from exploding laser fire rained down around her, but she barely seemed to notice as she sat the behind the bulky titanium crate.

“Are you fucking nuts? We’ve got to get out of here!” Hawk was convinced the woman was certifiable. They needed to get back to the damned ship.

“Hush and help me,” she replied as if they weren’t being shot at.

If they made it out of this alive, he was going to kill her.

Hawk fired off several shots as he shoved the gun at her. That was when he noticed two other bottles with strips of cloth jammed into them with about an eight-inch section of the material draped over the lip of the bottles. “What the hell are you doing?”

She had the nerve to grin at him. “Making Molotov Cocktails, of course.” The wicked glee in her eyes told him whatever it was had to be destructive. Onyx was nothing if not bloodthirsty.

“A firebomb isn’t going to help us here, Onyx. Titanium isn’t exactly flammable.”

She snorted, shaking her head as she reached for the last bottle at her side.

“Obviously you’ve never taken Onyx’s class on the Proper Making of a Molotov Cocktail.”

“Other than the drink, I’ve never had the pleasure, no,” Hawk replied, dryly.

“You’re more of a man than I thought if you actually drink that rotgut.” Hawk fired off several more shots, gritting his teeth to keep from rising to her barb. He watched as she quickly dismantled her gun, pulling out the power core and dropping it into the last bottle. The cloth she stuffed into the bottle was wet --

presumably with alcohol. Pulling out a mini-torch from a flap in the side of her boot, she quickly lit the first of the three homemade bombs.

Turning to him, she grinned, obviously not distressed by her wound in the least.

“Down the hatch, big boy.” Onyx threw the bottle as hard as she could, her hair whipping around her face with the forward momentum. The bottle struck the floor in front of a small group of security taking cover behind the landing skiff of a nearby ship.

Hawk expected a small fireball, but the ensuing explosion knocked him on his ass.

Literally.

“Son of a bitch, that was big!”

Onyx snorted. “Of course. Anything worth doing is worth doing big.” She calmly lit another one and hurled it. Hawk was prepared this time and ducked closer to the crate, avoiding the shockwave. He laid down more cover fire as Onyx threw the third bottle.

When the third makeshift bomb detonated, Hawk scooped her up in a fireman’s carry and sprinted back to the ship. She wasn’t a small woman by any means, but Hawk was genetically and cybernetically enhanced. He also had a will of iron. He was getting Onyx back to the ship and safety no matter what.

Storm had abandoned the large, bulky ship guns for two rifles which he wielded like handguns, firing over and over in different directions. Hawk stumbled but managed to keep his footing. A dozen strides later he flung Onyx into the ship as he followed, Storm already raising the ramp and lifting off.

Hawk wasn’t sure what happened after that, though Storm must have managed a clean getaway because no one shot at them. All he could do was lie flat on his back, panting and sweating. He took a quick inventory of his injuries and determined he had nothing life-threatening. He hurt like hell from several burns over his arms and legs, and one on the side of his face, but other than that, he’d survived intact.

“Where else are you hit?” he asked Onyx as he rolled over, getting to his knees and crawling to her side.

“Just my leg. Thank goodness it was a laser. The wound is cauterized. Hurts like hell but it’s not bleeding.”

Hawk merely grunted as he pulled out a med kit. He ran a small scanner over her leg, punching in adjustments as the module told him to. A few minutes later, the worst of the damage was repaired and an anesthetic applied to ease her pain.

She looked at him, meeting his gaze squarely. “Thanks for coming after me.” He snorted. “I should have left your ass there. I told you to stay here!” Now that the adrenaline was leaving his system, Hawk found himself shaking. He’d nearly lost her! She’d deliberately disobeyed him, and it had almost cost her life.

“They were on to you. Security was called to the prison, and I couldn’t just sit here while you were trapped in that hellhole! That’s not what I signed up for.” She didn’t flinch from him, though Hawk knew he had to look murderous. He couldn’t remember a time in his life when he was so furious with anyone.

“Later,” he growled, pulling her up by the arm and shoving her toward the cockpit. “When we get back to base, we’ll discuss this. Right now, Storm needs to clean up before he pollutes the whole damned ship with that shit-smelling foulness he has all over him and the girl.”

Storm rose from the command chair, giving him a one-fingered salute before carefully picking up the feminine bundle he’d brought aboard the ship. Hawk watched him go, his heart going out to the girl. She’d obviously been through a living nightmare.

He took a deep, calming breath before turning back to Onyx. She met his gaze without flinching.

“You’ve earned yourself a punishment.”

A startled look crossed her face before she got her expression back under control.

“And just who do you plan to get to administer this ‘punishment’?”

“I’ll be doing it myself. And just so we’re clear, when I’m done, your life as you know it will be over.”

Onyx tried to hide her smile. Knowing she’d probably fail miserably, she turned her head, trying to look contrite. So, this was finally it. Hawk. Unleashed. Unless he calmed down considerably before they reached base, he might just prove to be the lover she knew he was capable of being.

The flight back to base was done in silence. Hawk didn’t move other than to make adjustments on the console instrumentation. He said nothing, and Onyx’s attempt at small talk was ignored. Strangely, she squirmed. It was a new sensation for Onyx, and she wasn’t sure she liked it. Sex with Hawk after such a close brush with death would have been hot, rough and deeply fulfilling. Sitting next to him for three hours while he silently stewed over recent events was… disconcerting. At best.

For the first time in her life, Onyx actually felt a little sliver of fear clenching in her gut. What if she’d pushed him past reason? She wasn’t actually a part of their organization. What did she actually know about these men? She was a capable woman and worked alongside men in every dangerous profession she could think of from mercenary to marine.

But Hawk…

Hawk was different from any man she’d ever come across. She’d never seen such a violent man try so hard to be civil. It wasn’t that he was evil, he was just a born warrior. Sure, he was genetically and physically enhanced, but he would have been a force to be reckoned with regardless. He was single-minded in his determination to destroy those he considered his enemy, and he would gladly lay down his life for those he considered his. Whether she fell into the first or second category, Onyx had no clue.

She wasn’t sure she wanted to be either.

“Look,” she said, trying again to get him talking. “This isn’t working out for us.

I’m obviously used to doing things my way. You’re used to people doing them yours.” As expected, he said nothing. He didn’t even acknowledge her. The only sign he heard her at all was the muscle in his jaw that kept clenching and unclenching.

Onyx sighed. That sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach got worse. Perversely, her cunt got wetter. She’d thought she wanted Hawk out of control. She got the feeling she’d bitten off more than she could chew.

Oh, well. She wasn’t one to dwell on things out of her hands. If Hawk decided she was his enemy, she’d fight her way out. She had faith in herself and her abilities.

She’d trained the better part of her life to be able to defend herself and those she loved.

She was a survivor. Deep down, where it counted, she knew Hawk would never actually harm her. She was more worried about what he wouldn’t do. Afraid he wouldn’t take her like he meant to keep her, and, god damn it, she needed him to do exactly that.

Sitting there, looking at him, she couldn’t help but wonder what it would be like to have him wrapped around her, taking her with ruthless abandon. He was strong.

Freakishly so. His arms had to be as big as her thighs and so heavily muscled she wasn’t sure how his skin contained all that beef. Veins crawled up his arms from his hands to his shoulders like thick vines. The rest of him was covered with leather, but it wasn’t hard to imagine the muscle rippling over his chest, abdomen and legs. The man was a lethal weapon.