Double Cross (Hard Target Book 1) Page 14

  Her throat closed up, and she swallowed around the panic. “I…I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  “Don’t lie. I saw you, princess.” Scorn coated the word. “I saw you sneaking out not long after dawn. He was fucking blind. And I know you didn’t tell him your name. What alias did you use? Angie, or some such bullshit. Princess was bad enough, but he thought he’d made love to an angel.”

  “What the fuck, Dalton?”

  Duke. Had he heard what his teammate said? Cory managed to get her eyes focused on his thunderous expression. He’d heard.

  Chapter 18

  “WHAT’S HE talking about, princess?” Duke glared at her, ignoring the pinched look around her eyes, the blossoming bruise on her forehead, and the gray pallor of her skin.

  “You gonna tell him or am I?”

  Duke glared at Dalton. “She doesn’t need to tell me. You just did. What I want to know is why?”

  A voice crackled in his ear. “Target is headed to the drop zone. Notifying Bravo Two for immediate departure.”

  Fuck. He didn’t need this distraction, couldn’t wrap his head around what Dalton had said. Cory was his fantasy one-night stand? Why? What did she have to gain by hiding her identity? Betrayal ripped through him. Hers. Dalton’s. Dalton was a teammate. A brother. He should have told Duke immediately. He’d get to the bottom of things, but first, he had a cartel boss masquerading as an army officer to assassinate and a drug stash to blow up.

  “We’re not done with this.” He fixed a glare on Cory before sliding his gaze to Dalton.

  Unrepentant, Dalton dropped into position over his scope. “Roger that.”

  Duke stretched out beside him, his hands running over his sniper rifle in an instinctive check. He sighted in the scope, checked range and wind. Not much had changed since he’d last made the calculations.

  “Confirming target approach.” Dalton’s clipped voice snapped beside him.

  Through the scope, Duke watched Morales enter the master bedroom. A big smile on his face, the man called out, laughed, and started looking for Cory. He passed in and out of sight of the French doors numerous times, his expression morphing with his growing irritation. He finally stormed out onto the veranda, yelling for the guards.

  Duke ticked through his checklist. His finger tightened on the trigger. He breathed. In. Out. In. Out. Squeeze. Hit confirmed. Target down. Adjust sights. First guard appeared. He exhaled, squeezed. Target two confirmed and down. He acquired the third target as the sound of the first shot echoed across the valley separating them. Shock registered on the man’s face a half second before the high velocity bullet hit his chest and he went down.

  “Time to move.”

  Duke stowed his rifle and turned to put his gear together. While everyone else had packed up during Cory’s naps, he’d left her on his bedroll. She stood across the campsite, swaying slightly, his pack propped against her thigh. She’d taken care of it for him. He strode over, slung his pack over his shoulders as Dalton did the same with his own gear. Dalton took the lead. Cory, without ever saying a word, followed. Unsteady, but determined, she didn’t look back as he fell into line behind her.

  They’d barely cleared their encampment when the first explosion rocked the earth under their feet. Cory gasped and went down on one knee, but she struggled up and was moving before Duke could get to her. Tropical dusk lingered though the shadows lengthened, reaching out to trip the unwary traveler. Dalton set a demanding pace, but Cory, with the same stubbornness she’d shown in Africa, kept up with him.

  Small arms fire broke out above them as they rested in the valley before beginning their climb toward the helicopter pad. Uri’s calm voice spoke into their earpieces. “All clear. Proceed to LZ.”

  Climbing was more difficult. More often than not, Cory was scrabbling with her hands, the toes of her boots digging into the faint trail as her fingers grabbed for purchase. Duke couldn’t stop himself from boosting her over a few rough spots, his palms cupping her ass when he did so. Oh yeah, he remembered the feel of her now. Remembered her surrender. How she felt surrounding him as he sank into her slick pussy.

  Cory froze in front of him, and he plowed into her back. Fuck. He damn sure needed to get his thoughts off her hot body and back on the situation at hand. Her lungs emptied with a gasp as he knocked the breath out of her. And then he saw why—a large snake coiled and hissing. Her arms were splayed on either side of the reptile, propping her up, but if the snake struck, it would likely bite her in the throat. Duke didn’t have time to determine if the snake was poisonous or not. His tactical knife was in his hand and slashing even as he hauled her up and away with his free arm curled around her waist. He separated the snake’s head from its body and without missing a stride, he carried Cory several steps on up the side of the hill.

  Dalton had paused and looked back over his shoulder. “Problem?”

  “Not anymore.” Duke set Cory on her feet but stayed close. “What happened?”

  “I…I think I grabbed it. Vines. I grabbed a vine, but it moved and then the snake sort of plopped right there, and you knocked into me and…you killed it.”

  “I did. Keep moving.”

  She did.

  Gunfire sounded more consistent now, where it had been sporadic before. The team must have found a nest of soldiers. Voices spoke in his ear.

  “Six tangos. Four o’clock.”

  A burst of automatic gunfire followed by Kin’s voice. “Not anymore.”

  “Alpha One, Bravo One.” Dom’s voice came in loud and clear.

  Duke keyed his mic. “Bravo One go.”

  “ETA fifteen. Twins requesting status of cargo.”

  “Moving but damaged.”

  “Copy that.”

  Dalton picked up the pace even more. Duke climbed beside Cory now, holding her arm and pulling her along in his wake. He was still pissed, but he’d be damned if he let emotions screw up this mission. They finally reached the edge of the grassy area smoothed and marked for a landing zone. Tank covered their flank. Uri crouched at the edge, ready to light the glow sticks for the helo. Moshe lay beside him, alert and ready to spring into action. Kin and Loch covered the other side of the clearing with their assault rifles.

  Duke needed a quick assessment of their situation. “Do we have a count on the Tangos?”

  Loch sounded off, “I counted eleven.”

  “Ten.” Kin sounded miffed.

  “Moshe got two. I dispatched four more.” Uri’s hand dropped to the dog’s head for a quick pat while the falcon perched on his shoulder dug in her claws and ruffled her wings.

  Tank grinned and patted his chest. “Ha, pansies. I got fifteen.”

  “Three,” Duke added.

  Dalton’s head jerked up. “Incoming, my seven high.”

  All eyes riveted to a spot in the sky that roughly equated to seven o’clock on a watch face. A low thrum stirred the atmosphere, and it quickly grew to the familiar whump-whump-whump of helicopter rotors. Moments later, the helo swooped in just above tree level. Uri dashed out, laying the glow sticks in place. The aircraft landed like a prehistoric dragonfly in the middle of the space.

  Everyone on the ground remained in attack mode, waiting. When nothing happened, Duke hustled Cory to the helo. Two pairs of hands reached out to haul her in and a sense of déjà vu washed over her, especially when she glanced up at the men. She recognized them, but didn’t have a chance to greet them before the large dog scrabbled for footing beside her.

  Cory scrambled out of the way, making herself small on the deck, her back pressed against some sort of bench seat arrangement made of plastic and nylon netting. Men climbed on board—the one with the falcon, now hooded, perched on his shoulder. Tank and Dalton. Two others she remembered seeing at Mother Goose’s. And finally Duke. Packs and equipment got sorted and stored while the helo lifted off.

  One of the men started counting, his accent Irish. When he reached zero, the horizon behind them lit up with flames and debri
s. More explosions followed. The aircraft shuddered through the shockwave then, in a wide, sweeping turn, headed back. A quick flyover confirmed the damage. The villa was a mess of twisted steel and concrete crumbled halfway down the hill. Outbuildings lay in smoldering ruins, and there was little left of the area they’d taken off from.

  Another sweeping turn and they were headed away from the scene of destruction. The man who’d helped her aboard fixed a set of earphones over her head. “Howdy, doc. Long time, no see.” The man’s western twang sounded comforting in her ears. “Last time I saw you, the big man there was all but dead and while you were way too skinny by half, you were full of piss-n-vinegar. You don’t look so hot now, sugar. Let me get a good look atcha. Name’s Brady, by the way. Brady Starr.”

  While his expression remained friendly, Cory realized he looked worried. At least she could see him clearly when she closed her right eye. “What is it?”

  Brady glanced up at Duke, who slid into the seat behind her, and something unspoken passed between them. “You’ll be fine, but you won’t be doin’ any R-and-R on Barbados.”

  “I’m a doctor, Brady. Tell me.”

  He glanced at Duke again, shrugged. “Your eyes are unequal, doc, and your right eye is nonreactive. I’m a little worried about intracranial pressure.”

  “Oh.” Cory tried to think through the diagnosis, but her brain didn’t want to work. She was so tired, and her head was throbbing again.

  “What the hell does that mean, Brady?” Duke’s growling voice reverberated in her ear.

  “Her right pupil is blown, Duke. The technical term is mydriasis. Considering the blow to her head, the most likely cause is a build-up of pressure in her skull, either from her brain swelling or a bleed. Both are bad.”

  “I’m all right.” Her words were a little slurred, but she attributed it to her exhaustion. She just wanted to curl up and sleep. “An ice pack would help.”

  She suddenly found herself between Duke’s calves. She laid her cheek against his hard, inner thigh and closed her eyes. A moment later, cold pressed gently against her forehead.

  “Better?”

  “Much. Thank you.”

  Duke wrapped her braid around one hand while the other kept the cold pack pressed against her forehead. He could tell she was dozing by the even breaths puffing through the microphone attached to her earphones. He considered taking them off so she’d be more comfortable resting against his leg, but decided he needed to hear her breathing. In case there was any change in her condition. Or something. He leaned back and closed his eyes.

  An ember of his earlier anger sparked. He still couldn’t figure out why she’d lied to him. Had the whole night been nothing more than a pity fuck? His ego rejected the idea. She’d been quivering beneath him, breathless and compliant, totally submissive. Completely responsive.

  Being honest with himself, he admitted he was getting off on her curled up on the deck at his feet. The next time he had her in this position, she would be healthy and whole. Because no matter how pissed off he was, he was damn sure there would be a next time. And a time after that. Until he got his fill of Dr. Cory Prince.

  Chapter 19

  DOC PEMBERTON was waiting for them at the Hard Target hangar on Key West’s airport. The BS twins whisked Cory away at his instruction, leaving Duke standing flat-footed and pissed. His head was all kinds of fucked up because of her. Seeing her in pain pissed him off. Knowing she’d played him without knowing the reason why pissed him off.

  Bear stood near the door to the hangar’s office, arms folded across his massive chest. Bigger than Tank, more deadly than any of them, the Wolf didn’t look open to negotiation. As the team’s XO, he was the direct conduit to Mother.

  The group trooped into the office and slouched into folding chairs gathered around a cheap trestle table. A few moments later, Brady and Shane slipped in and settled in the two chairs next to Dom and Bo.

  Duke debriefed Bear, with other team members adding individual reports to fill in the blanks. Uri passed over a thumb drive he’d downloaded from the computer Morales kept in the office at the villa.

  “Morales had contacts, smuggling routes, and more on his hard drive. You will want to pass along the info regarding the human trafficking routes specifically. This is a rather new enterprise for the cartel.” Uri’s disgust was evident in the tone of his voice.

  Loch confirmed the destruction and added an SD card to the growing pile of information. “Photos of the warehouse, surrounding area, the compound, before and after.”

  “We confirmed forty-five kills,” Duke added.

  Tank chimed in. “Five escaped. Low-level guards. They looked local so we let them go. Besides, they’ll get the word out. Doesn’t pay to be a bad guy, even in the Venezuelan boondocks.”

  Snorting a laugh, Dalton nudged Tank with his shoulder. “Dude, I didn’t know Venezuela had boonies.”

  “That’s because you’re a Cali boy, doofus.”

  Bear cleared his throat and everyone sobered. “I’ll pass the intel along to Mother. Duke, you, Tank, and Cali need to stay. Everyone else dismissed.”

  The other men exchanged looks. Dom shook his head. “Not happening, Bear. We’re a team. Whatever you say to them, you say to the rest of us.”

  Duke lowered his chin in a subtle nod to Bear. Solidarity was good for a team.

  “Fine.” He pushed a file folder toward Duke. “Read it and pass it on.”

  The info he’d been dreading was there. Stark. Black and white. And running red with the blood of SEAL Team Atlantis. The betrayal came all the way from the top—a White House aide, a cabinet secretary, a Pentagon honcho, and the clandestine corporation that appeared to own everything—including the labs at Area 51.

  Commander Allen wasn’t a clueless fall guy. He’d been sent specifically to set up Atlantis for betrayal and termination due to their role in helping the Wolves of the 69th take out the traitors and enemies of the state hunting the SpecOps soldiers.

  Acceptable collateral damage.

  The words seared Duke’s psyche. Copper, Wilco, Poison, and Cookie Monster were far more than fucking collateral damage. They’d been honorable men who lived the SEAL code. Their government had not only turned its back on them in treachery, it also went after the members who survived. They’d been double-crossed. And the princess had been caught in the middle.

  “What about Cory? Dr. Prince? What is her role in all this?”

  Bear lifted massive shoulders in a shrug far too negligent to suit Duke. “Mother is working on that.”

  “What the hell does that mean, Bear? Why does she keep showing up in bad places full of bad people we’ve been ordered to eliminate?”

  “It means that Mother is working on it, Duke. We don’t know. But we will. Forget about Mother Nature. Don’t ever piss off Mother Goose, and she’s even more pissed than you. Trust me. She’ll get to the bottom of things.” He gestured toward the file, which had made its way around to the BS twins. “She found out why Team Atlantis was set up. She found out who.” Bear heaved out a heavy breath. “Duke, you belong to us now. All of you do. Unlike some, we take care of our own.”

  Dom glanced at Bo, Brady, and Shane. “We came as a matched set. Interesting that we all got hit with RIF orders at the same time.”

  Bear laughed, a big hearty sound much like the man himself. “Hey, Reduction in Force happens. Mother needed you. You liked the bennies. Nobody twisted your arm, Dom.”

  “True, but like Duke, I’m a little suspicious, especially given we were the crew who picked up Duke and the doc in Africa.” He glanced at the other three members of the team. “What about you? How do you fit in?”

  Kin looked pensive. “I’m here because someone I trusted made a phone call. I was all but dead at the time after a bit of a clusterfuck in your Louisiana bayous. Woke up in Doc Pemberton’s clinic breathing and more or less in one piece. Mother explained the facts of life, and here I am.”

  Bear studied the Air Force wing o
f the team. “You know what I am, what Kin and Loch are. Kin went up against Black Root and was caught in the crossfire. He almost died protecting a woman named Hannah McIntire.”

  The SEALs stared at Kin, and he met their gazes straight on. Dalton grinned at him. “I’ve met the major. Scary bitch.”

  “That she is. All of them are, the Wolves and their mates. They’ve a new life now, well earned, and with your help so I’m t’understand. Mother offered me the same.”

  “Aye,” Loch spoke up. “T’is much the same story for me but without the heroics. I stumbled across a bit of black ops that wasn’t on the up and up. My career went into the crapper when I brought it to the attention of my superiors. Mother showed up on m’stoop, tucked me under her wing, and here I am. Livin’ la vida loca in Key West, America.”

  “Now that we’re through with the touchy-feely, can we get back to work?” Bear rolled his eyes. “I woulda figured with all the time you boys spend carousin’ together you woulda already made the introductions. And the connections.”

  As his words sank in, Duke watched the light bulbs click on inside each man. “You know, Bear, Mother never has said exactly who we work for.”

  “S’long as your paychecks don’t bounce, you have the best equipment, and you get to wear the white hats, do you care?”

  “Yeah. I think I do.”

  “Then you need to take that up with Mother. Above my pay grade, Duke.” Bear glanced at his watch. “My shift starts in an hour, and I’m hungry. I’m outta here.”

  For a big man, he could move fast, and Duke had to yell after him, “Dammit, Bear, where the fuck did they take Cory?”

  He didn’t get an answer.

  THREE DAYS. They’d stalled him for three days. Doc swore Cory wasn’t in his clinic. The Key West Medical Center claimed to have no knowledge of her. Mother was noticeably absent, and Bear was downright stoic—meaning he just ignored Duke’s demands for information.

  “Dude, chill out.” Dalton pushed a cold beer toward him. “Good riddance, I say.”