Authors: Tina Wainscott
“Exactly.”
“No fucking way,” Julian amended.
The others didn’t possess such obvious objections, though they certainly weren’t enthusiastic.
Julian shot to his feet and let out a string of Spanish she was pretty sure wasn’t nice words. He seemed to realize he was speaking in another language and abruptly stopped and looked at Chase. “You said we all had a say in our missions. And I say no way.”
Chase looked so completely unruffled, it amazed Mollie. He sat back in his chair. “We have to weigh the risk with the payoff, and we have to do it without our emotions. In the event that we can’t follow the transport of the women, that will be our best chance to break this Ball.”
Julian shot his finger out toward Mollie. “She
’s
thinking with her emotions, the same way she’s been doing from the beginning. Walking through biker gatherings. Meeting one at a bar at two in the morning, for chrissakes!”
Risk out and out laughed. Julian gave him a murderous glare. “What’s so funny?”
He waved it off. “Sorry, just getting a flash of déjà vu.”
Julian’s laugh was forced. “Yeah, I remember, when Addie was talking about all the crazy things she’d done to save animals. And you about blew a gasket.”
“Pot, meet kettle,” Risk said with a grin. He nodded his head toward Mollie. “Mollie’s a strong woman, reminds me a lot of Addie. She’s survived so far.”
“Who’s Addie?” Mollie asked.
“My first mission,” Risk said. “She’s an animal rights activist who’s made some enemies. I was supposed to guard her body. It was quite the adventure. Addie will do anything to save an animal. You have that same determined gleam in your eyes.”
Mollie stood too and addressed the group. “I’m not thinking emotionally here. Emotionally I’d say let’s storm the damned place and get my sister and those women out. Logically, I’m thinking that it would be much better to bust these assholes completely for what they’re doing. We’re not talking drugs or stolen motorcycles here; we’re talking murder. And God knows what leading up to it.”
Chase turned to Julian. “They’re not going to hurt Mollie because they’ll want her in one piece for the Ball. So until then, she’s safe. We track her to the Ball, break in, and detain the people who are running it. Mollie will be able to pinpoint who they are.”
“You’ll put a wire on her?” Julian said, the first hint of relenting in his voice.
Mollie shook her head. “No wire. The woman who was running things backstage actually patted me down. She was suspicious. That won’t change.”
“I have a tracking device in development now for military and law-enforcement use, called the G-patch. It’s a flesh-colored patch with a GPS transmitter so tiny and flat, it’s nearly imperceptible when worn beneath the clothing. It’s situated inside what looks like a nicotine or motion sickness patch.”
“Except I may not be wearing clothing,” Mollie said. “They might make me perform again.” The thought of that turned her stomach. But she’d done it before. Twice.
Chase gestured to the back of his head. “We’ll put it on the nape of your neck. Your hair will hide it. If someone sees it, you tell them you’re trying to quit smoking. We’ll know exactly where you are at all times.”
“And we’ll be positioned yards away from her,” Julian said, a scowl on his face.
“The whole time. We’ll have J-men around her from the time she goes into Hidden Assets until we bust into wherever the Ball is being held. I’ll have the police chief on alert, ready to respond.”
Julian bent his head, rubbing his neck. “She’ll be with the club a whole day. From tonight until tomorrow night. We could be right outside the building, but we won’t know
what’s going on inside.”
It hit her then. He was scared for her. Because … he cared.
“It’s a backup plan,” she said. “We probably won’t have to use it.”
Chase said, “I’m going to fly to Miami and get the prototypes. I need to take Vivi back anyway, so she can finish a job she’s on. I’ll bring Sax with me when I return.”
“Prototypes?” Julian asked. “It hasn’t been tested?”
“It’ll work as long as it’s on her,” Chase assured.
“How good is the glue?” Julian asked.
Mollie put her hands on his shoulders, facing him. “I’ll be all right. I’m a big girl. I can take care of myself.” She glanced around her. “Especially with all these very competent people around me. Including you.”
He surprised her by pulling her into his arms and resting his head on top of hers. “I know. I’d put my life in my team’s hands any day of the week. It’s just that—”
“I love her.”
The slurred voice took them all by surprise. Brick swayed into the space, bracing his hand on the curved wall. He still looked fevered, his eyes bright. They zeroed in on her, and he lunged forward.
Julian kept him from falling on her. “Dude, you’re burning up.”
Risk said, “He’s on some pretty heavy meds right now.”
“I heard your voice, Mollie, needed to tell you …” Brick swallowed. “Thirsty.”
Vivi opened a fridge and handed him a bottle of water. He gulped it down, wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, then focused on Mollie again. “I wanted you to know that I love her. I never had anyone love me like she did. And I ran scared. I’m such a dick.”
“Yeah,” Julian agreed.
Mollie nudged him even as she kept her focus on Brick. His proclamation soothed her broken heart at the edges “But you’re helping us now.”
“I’ll do whatever I can.” He squinted, taking in everyone as though seeing them for the first time. “Who
are
you people?” Then he fainted.
“So the bullets are skidding across the pavement—it’s cool, you can see the sparks through the NVGs. Night vision goggles,” Risk added for Mollie’s benefit. “And I duck behind this crumbling wall and reload. And there’s this shadow creeping up like a spider next to me.”
Julian, Rath, Risk, and Mollie were sitting at the bar in the hotel’s huge pool atrium, unwinding before the night ahead.
Risk hiked his thumb toward the cell phone that was propped up against a couple of empty beer bottles, Sax’s grinning mug filling the screen courtesy of video chat. “It’s Sooch here, who sidles up beside me and says his head is hurting. Wants me to check it out. Dude’s got blood matted in his hair, but he’s talking at least. I can’t see the injury with his hair, so I start palpating his head, working his scalp with my fingers. I was effectively blind, but I know an AK-47 round when it pops out in my hand.”
She was soaking in every detail, her knees tucked up against her chest and her arms wrapped around her legs on the stool next to Julian. “He had a
bullet
in his head?”
“Under his scalp,” Risk said. “I press the bullet into his hand, and he says, ‘Gimme a Tylenol. I need to get back into position.’ And he tucks the round in his pocket and runs off to play some more.”
“I still have it,” Sax said from the phone with a silly-assed grin. “Freaks the chicks out when I pull it out and show it to them.”
“Well, now it sounds like you’re talking about your dick,” Risk teased. He pitched his voice high and squeaky. “Ooh, Saxy, I thought it’d be bigger than that.”
Sax flipped him off but his grin was still in place. “Coming from the guy with his hands in all of our underwear drawers.”
Risk propped his foot on the edge of the table, tipping his stool back. “That was my signature prank,” he told Mollie. “Cutting holes in their briefs. They got me back
plenty.”
“That was our way of easing tension,” Julian said, hooking his boot on the bottom rung of her stool. “You never knew when you were going to find a hole in your briefs, or a hot dog stuffed into a condom in your locker.”
Knox, also video chatting, pointed at Rath from his phone’s screen opposite Sax’s. “That was fucked up, Rath.”
Julian out-and-out hooted. “With the ketchup and everything. After he’d—”
“Told us some urban legend about a crazy soldier sneaking into the various sleeping quarters and cutting off guys’ tallywhackers,” Sax finished, then looked at Mollie. “If you’ll excuse my French, darlin’.”
“Dropped it into conversation real serious-like,” Knox said with a grumble in his voice, shaking his head. Dust floated off his cowboy hat, and he removed it and gave it a good shake, creating a cloud. “Acted freaked out about it.”
Rath chuckled, that low, evil kind he was famous for. He rested his bent arms on the tabletop right in front of the phone Knox was on. “That was for that transvestite you sent over to me in the bar once. Not that he/she fooled me for a second.”
Julian slapped his thigh. “For two and a half minutes you were thinking of tapping that. Till you saw his Adam’s apple.”
Julian surreptitiously watched Mollie as they continued to rib each other. She had a soft smile on her face as her gaze went from speaker to speaker, sliding to him, then away again.
He leaned closer, brushing his arm against hers, and mock-whispered, “Have you had enough of us boneheads?”
“I love watching you all interact. You’re like a family, even finishing each other’s sentences. It’s cute.”
“Cute?” Julian patted his chest and coughed. “
Cute?
Did you hear the parts about shooting people? Dismembered penises?”
“All right, you’re cute badasses. Happy now?” She patted Julian’s cheek.
Ea Diablo
, he was in love with this woman. He pushed whatever expression
might be on his face at that realization before the guys picked up on it. That was the last thing he needed. “Badassedly happy, thank you.” He recalled the way she’d said the word family, with a soft smile. “We are family. Not a one of us is related or even alike, but I’m closer to these guys than I am my own brothers. I respect them.”
Rath splayed his hand over his heart. “Aw, you’re making me want to cry.”
Julian winked at Mollie. “He loves me, too.”
As the guys continued ribbing his brief show of sentimentality, it hit Julian why he was so drawn to Mollie. She had the same traits his SEAL brothers possessed: courage, integrity, and the dogged determination to get the job done no matter the cost. Respect was huge for him. His grandfather had earned his respect and showed Julian what a real man was about. And Mollie was showing him what a real woman was.
She turned toward him at that moment, and he didn’t think he’d wiped away his expression of awe fast enough. Their gazes locked, and his stomach did the same kind of flip it did when he rode the roller coasters at Busch Gardens. He had to really wrench his gaze away, only to find his brothers watching him with knowing amusement. Before they could say something that would embarrass Mollie—okay, and him—he got to his feet. “I’m taking Mollie back to the room. So she can get some rest before tonight,” he added when he heard how that had sounded.
“Yeah, sure,” Risk said, his eyes saying
yeah … rest. Gotcha
. At least he didn’t wink.
“Chase’s jet just landed, so I’m outta here, too,” Sax said, and disconnected.
Julian told the guys, “See you in a couple hours.” Then he turned to Knox. The big Montana sky was clear in the background, along with the tips of his cowboy boots. Julian would have thought he was showing off, but that wasn’t Knox’s style. “You have fun wrangling the colts, Maverick. I’m sure we’ll see you soon.”
Knox saluted. “Good luck.”
Julian wondered if he meant on the mission or with Mollie. He sure wasn’t going to ask him to clarify. “Thanks.”
“So you’re Salsa,” Mollie said, as they walked across the faux-tropical oasis. “Or
Houdini,” she added when she saw that he was going to correct her. “Risk is for the risk-taker. Why Sooch?”
“We started out calling him Southern Charm.”
She laughed, all soft and husky. “I can see that. All those ya’lls and darlin’s. So then it got truncated. And Knox is Maverick because of the cowboy thing?”
“Nah, he was Cowboy at first. Okay, we’re not all that imaginative. When most of us are assigned our nicknames, we’re going through BUD/S, so our brains are on overload with learning and grueling physical tasks. Our monikers are usually tied in to either some embarrassing thing you did or related to your physicality. Knox became Maverick—
earned
that title—because he put a gun to a captain’s head and ordered him to retrieve his team.”
“Really?”
“We had to go in and clear out some bad guys who’d cornered a contingent of Marines. That was the easy part. Getting out, not so much. A lookout had signaled some of his nasty friends to give us a welcoming party. We barely had cover as we spotted the Seafox, the boat that was there to extract us. As we inched toward the extract site, we got ambushed. Snipers, about a dozen of them. More of them than us. Knox had missed the initial call, so he was on the Seafox, ready to help if necessary. I radioed the patrol boat to let them know about the snipers and that we needed immediate extraction. They confirmed. We were about to move when some sons of bitches tried to frag us from a whole new angle. We were like freaking gymnastic stars, leaping and flipping over the seawall.” Julian laughed, shaking his head.
He loved the way she listened with every fiber of her body, her eyes wide. “How can you laugh? It sounds terrifying.”
He paused. “The terrifying part was when the damn boat just sat offshore, so close and yet so far. SEALs are good swimmers; maneuvering in and on the water is what we do. But if we tried to make a swim for it, the bad guys would be all over us. I radioed the Seafox again. This time it wasn’t the coxswain who answered but Knox. He affirmed that they were coming in. And they did. Finally.
“Once we were safely out to sea, I stormed to the middle deck ready to blast someone about the delay. Until I saw Knox flanked by two crewmen aiming their M60s within a couple of inches of him. Knox was standing down, and he looked tense as hell. He explained that the coxswain saw all the action and was going to leave us to fend for ourselves. We’re SEALs, after all. So Knox drew down on them, aimed his gun at the guy’s head, and ordered him to extract us. He risked court-martial to save us. Of course, the coxswain wasn’t going to report the incident. No way did he want to get written up for cowardice under fire.”