Covert vengeance, p.19
Covert Vengeance, page 19
That is a last resort.
I take a lounging step to the side, keeping my weight low I move to the other side making sure to stay below the glow of the lights inside.
“What… I don’t… you died. I saw you, you died. He shot you.”
Elliot’s panic rising as she speaks flowing through her high pitch voice. Inching upward I get my first peek into the other side of the room. Elliot sits, bound, on an old fashioned couch with a man standing over her.
A little shorter than me he looks to be about six feet tall, lean but his stance conveys he knows how to fight. The suit he’s wearing is expensive, the fabric nearly glinting in the light. Shiny shoes, and a glittering Rolex this Kurt fucker seems to have sold his soul to the devil all for money.
“You of all people know not to believe anything unless you see it with your own eyes.” The couch bag rocks back on his heels and gives Elliot a slow once over. My fingers dig into my straining thigh muscles to keep them from reaching for my gun and popping a few rounds in his head.
Elliot just blinks up at him. I narrow my eyes. Is she twitching? Fuck whatever they gave her is running in strong through her veins.
Stay strong Half Pint. I’m coming for you.
“Why?” The word strangled like it’s said through tears.
Doubt begins to creep in, not about Elliot’s loyalty to the CIA or if she had any clue he had turned into a traitor, but about us. She mentioned the guilt she felt for the man knowing, well thinking, she killed him, but she never mentioned how close they were.
Were the close like she and I are.
Did she share pieces of her soul, open up about her past with him too?
Not that it matters, because she’s still mine and I won’t let that fucker hurt her anymore. We’re a team her and I now and no one, not even the fucker who should’ve stayed dead, will come between us.
“Why?” he scoffs as he shoves his hands into his gray slacks. “You of all people should know why Elliot.” My lip lifts in a snarl just hearing her name on his lips. I cannot wait to kill him for good this time. “They break us then use us to advance whatever damn political agenda is on the table that week. We’re pawns in a never ending game and I was tired of it.” He slips a hand from the pocket and reaches out to stroke a lone finger down her face tracing the outline of her jaw.
I see if before he does, maybe that signals her and I’s relationship is stronger than theirs ever ways.
Even though her eyes are glazed, it’s the twitch of her jaw the stillness that washes over her at his touch. The idiot’s bellow of surprise and pain thankfully covers my chuckle. Kurt yanks his hand back, stumbling into the coffee table to wrench his finger free from between Elliot’s teeth. How she snapped at just the right moment and caught his finger is amazing, and little worrisome. Note to self don’t ask for a blowjob when she’s pissed off.
“You fucking bitch.” After inspecting the finger to ensure it’s still attached, which unfortunately it seems to be, Kurt raises the injured hand in the air. The smack echoes around the room, Elliot’s head snaps tot he side. The last time this happened I couldn’t see, just heard Rico’s hit. This, watching, is so much fucking worse.
Blood streams down her lower lip, dripping off her chin giving her responding smile a malicious appearance. Pride swells as I watch her stare down the fucker while twitching against the bindings.
“You crazy ass cunt,” he yells tossing his hands out wide. “I did all this, not you, not them, me. And I thought,” he says with a incredulous laugh.
“You thought I’d give you a nice slow fucking clap and be impressed. I almost died that night, I thought I killed you.”
“That,” he grits out with a pointed glare over his shoulder to Rico who’s watching the drama unfold from the other side of the room. “Wasn’t supposed to happen.” He turns back around and points at Elliot. “You didn’t tell me there were two codes for the drone.”
“Clearly I was right in not divulging that part of the nights mission.”
“You were going to choose the agency over me, you let him kill me,” he shouts spit flying through the air. “You were supposed to choose me,” he says chest heaving. “We were both going to die in that damn house with those SEAL fuckers. But you, you fucked it all up with your sense of duty. You could’ve had all this, you could’ve had me.”
“And why would I have wanted that?”
This time his fingers are curled in a tight fist when they connect with her face. Elliot topples over the the side giving me the first glimpse at the bindings behind her back. Unable to catch herself she falls to the floor landing at his feet. I don’t look away when he kicks her in the stomach.
“I loved you,” he says curling his foot back to kick her again.
“Loved me,” she rasps, barely loud enough for the words to be audible at the window. “You loved yourself you narcissistic asshole. It was sex, terrible sex at that.” This time his foot connects with her upper thighs sending her rolling to the side.
“I built this for us,” his voice low and menacing. “Built this for you for our future-”
“Future?” Elliot’s voice is high pitch warning me that she’s reaching the last bits of her sanity. “You want to know what your plan that night did for your future? When I fucked up your grand plans to pull us both into working with Rico Fucking Suarez. You killed the only connection you and I will ever have that night. I was pregnant, with your baby.”
My eyes mist over blurring my vision.
Pregnant.
Oh Half Pint. My heart breaks for her while my blood boils with rage. Now I’m trembling and jerking as barely as Elliot was. But I’m not on anything, only ruled by the insistent need to make them all pay for what they did to her. Did to her because she wouldn’t lower her principles, was willing to die to keep that second password a secret so Rico couldn’t hurt anyone with the technology.
Fucking hell I don’t deserve her. Someone so strong and loyal and selfless.
“You’re lying.” Kurt’s voice comes out crackling, proving he does in fact believe Elliot’s words.
“I wish I was,” Elliot’s words tremble. I can’t see her from where she’s positioned but it’s clear she’s crying. “Oh hell I wish I was. Because now, now, oh fuck,” she screams. “I’m so damn glad it happened, So fucking glad I lost that baby so it never had to know it’s father was a weak excuse for a man, a traitor.”
Something else is said but I don’t hear the words.
All I can focus on is the cool metal pressed against the back of my head its rounded edges digging into my scalp.
“Up.” The clipped word comes from directly behind me.
Closing my eyes I say a quick prayer to anyone who’s listening that I at least live long enough to safe Elliot and avenge my men.
With those accomplished I can die knowing I at least did two things right in my life.
My knees pop as I slowly stand making sure to stay out of view from those inside the house. The barrel of the gun pushes harder in a silent demand for me to move. Every cell on high alert I dutifully follow the guards orders turning to head for the patio area and the opened double doors. If I allow them to take me into that house like this I won’t come out alive. They will take me to that dips hit Kurt and Rico who will have their fun then kill me in front of Elliot to add a new emotional side to her torture.
The tips of my fingers twitch in the air as I plot out a plan of attack.
Seven feet separate me from the patio, if I want to take the guard, hell maybe guards, out behind me I have to do it now before the light can maximize my exposure to being caught again or killed.
Now.
I have to do this now.
My body flows through the motions, my muscles acting on memory from years of training. Ducking and twisting, I reach up, grabbing the end of the barrel pushing it the opposite direction. The guards eyes widen, his finger moves ready to fire off a few warning shots to signal others. With a silent grunt I yank on the barrel as hard as I can ripping it from his hands. With my free hand I slip the knife from my belt and send it soaring through the air.
It hits it’s mark right in the center of the now dying man’s throat preventing him from calling for help and killing him. He falls to his knees before slumping to the ground. Two thumps have me whirling the guards gun around and positioning it against my shoulder.
The silhouette of two additional bodies lay in the grass. Creeping closer I zero in on the single holes in each of their foreheads.
McLovin.
Not wasting any time I give a thumbs up toward the jungle and turn back to the patio.
I can’t wait any longer, backup SEAL platoon or not. My position is exposed, others know I’m here. Might as well make my presence known with a bang.
Excitement roars through me as I reach into my pocket and pull out the hand grenade I grabbed at the last second. Pulling the pin I keep a firm hold on the lever and wrench my arm back before letting launching it forward. It sails through the air, over the stone patio and between the double doors before dropping to the ground.
I hear the faint clink if it rolling.
Moving behind a wall I tense my body waiting for the boom.
Time for me to save my girl.
And then never let her go.
#
Chapter 23
Elliot
#
I can’t breath. Each gasp of air down my raw throat barely keeps me alive.
Everything I’ve bottled up since I woke up in that hospital bed has cracked open inside me and I can’t stop it from leaching it’s poison. My tears have stopped but I’m still sobbing, shaking uncontrollably.
Kurt is alive, a traitor. Fooled me into believing that body was him, was set up to fool everyone that he died that night. I’ve never been more thankful that night played out like it did. Because if I hadn’t kept the second password a secret from him, if the night had gone according to his plan I’d be his captive, pregnant captive, under the guise of him loving me and wanting me a part of his plans for wealth and power.
For eight months I’ve morned a money hungry monster, and our unborn child. I should be any, furious at his deception but all I feel is unending sorrow and grief. Like my entire chest is a gaping hole, a bottomless pit of dispaire.
My grief is so heavy I can’t voice the unanswered questions.
How did Kurt even park an agreement between the two. What does Kurt bring to the table that Rico would’ve wanted? If he faked his death all connections with the agency would’ve died with him, so what did Kurt….
No.
It all fits together.
Human trafficking connections. That’s what Kurt had to offer Rico. Kurt is why Rico has ventured into human trafficking.
Bile burns up my throat,I turn my head just as what little is in my stomach spills out of my mouth.
My lips part ready to beg Kurt to kill me now. To put me out of my misery when the entire house trembles from an explosion. The boom vibrates int he air, the ground beneath me quakes and particles of plaster rain down from above. My ear ring keeping me from hearing what happens next.
Smoke and dust fill the room making a stagnant gray cloud. Frantically I search for Kurt. He’s on his knees near my feet, his body contoured toward Rico. His lips move quickly his face flushed. Rico looks just as angry and worried.
If they didn’t do that then that means they’e here.
He’s here. Tony.
I just have to hold on a little longer.
Each movement slices the bings around my wrists, arms and ankles deeper into my already torn flesh but still I shift along the floor inch by inch toward the couch. Using the edge as leverage I work my exhausted body up the side until I’m sitting up.
Rico and Kurt as still fighting, both now brandishing weapons. They shouts are muffled but with each second that passes my hearing slowly returns. Quick flashes outside the open window draw my attention.
Gunfire.
Lots of gunfire.
Hope soars in my chest only to drop like a lead weight into my empty stomach when the lights flicker. In the next blink the house goes dark. The crack of two guns firing rattle my ear drums, the flash searing into my eyes.
My heart races, breathing erratic as I stare wide eyed into the dark. More gunfire pops but the sound is distant. A sticky, wet hand wraps around my bicep and pulls. With a scream I fall to the floor my knees cracking on the tile. Then I’m moving, the hand wedged beneath my armpit tightens to keep from slipping as I’m dragged across the floor. My shoulder nails a piece of furniture, the bindings at my feet snag jerking whoever is hauling me away but only slowing their pace not stopping it entirely.
Some of the bright moon’s rays leak through the windows casting steaks of slivery gray, just enough light to make out the shape of furniture and movement. Movement we’re leaving in our wake.
My panic rises.
I’m helpless.
But unlike when I suffered at the hand of my uncle, I might be helpless, I’m not alone.
Something in me breaks giving up a sliver of my pride but I’d rather need help than to die with my pride intact.
“Tony,” I scream at the top of my lungs. There an edge to my shriek. I part my lips ready to scream for him again, only to have something hard slam againt the side of my head.
I hear the crack against my skull, it vibrates down my spine and explodes with pain. My eyes droop, black bleeding into my diminished vision. Completely limp my head lulls back and forth as I dance on that line of unconsciousness.
My lips move, saying his name over and over and over again hoping my pitiful pleas would somehow make him appear. That he’ll feel my desperate need for his strength, for his protection and come for me.
“It’s over Rico.”
My heart leaps, skipping a literal fucking beat at the gravely voice that can make me feel protected and powerful in the same breath.
“I can make you rich, give you everything you want.”
“All I want is you dead.”
“I’ll give you the bitch-”
“You won’t give me anything.”
Rico hauls me up and wraps an arm around my waist. “You kill me you kill her-”
The pop is quiet, different than the guns Rico’s men used. It’s a puff, nearly silent. I wouldn’t even know Tony fired his weapon if it weren’t for the spark of the gunpowder firing.
Then I’m falling, Rico’s hold on my waist pulling my rag doll body as he slumps behind me.
A new grip wraps around my shoulders catching me before I hit the hard floor. These arms feel save, comforting protecting. In an instant my body knows who’s hard chest I’m now cradled against and drains of all resistance.
The pain in my head, the heat building beneath my skin comes back full force. A sad whimper escapes my tight jaw.
“Shh, it’s okay Half Pint.” I release an exhausted sob.
A male voice rumbles through the now quieted house, followed by another.
“Come on.” Tony’s lips feel cold against my sizzling forehead. “Lets get you home.”
“Kurt,” I rasp. “He’s-”
“I know Elliot, I know. Just relax for me okay, let me get you out of here and to a doctor.” His stubbled cheek brushes against my forehead. “You’re on fucking fire.”
Each of his jogged steps makes me bounce, head lulling from side to side but I don’t care. I’m safe and I’m going home. At some point another figures looms over me, Tony says something and the bindings around my arms releases next my writs and feet.
“She’s bad off, T.” Tony’s chest rumbles with a response. “Wrap her head wound.” I barely hear Tony say something about drugs. “Fuck, we don’t know what they gave her.”
“Half Pint.” The worry and pain in that voice makes me want to open my eyes but I can’t. It’s too much effort. “Elliot, I need you to stay with us a little longer okay.”
“Flakes what the hell… oh shit. What happened to her. Calling for the chopper.”
“Hold on Elliot.” Tony’s whispers brush agains the shell of my ear, his lips moving against my cheek. “Please fucking hold on. I can’t lose you. You’re it for me, you’re all I need please don’t give up.”
I don’t want to. I want to stay with him to live an actual life by his side. But I can’t feel my legs anymore, the numbness slowly spreading tot he rest of my body. Each breath is harder to take than the last. The word vanishes for a second, the darkness blanketing me in it’s cold stillness.
“No,” the panicked yell yanks me back awake. “Don’t you fucking leave me. Elliot.” His voice rings in my ears. “Elliot, please, please fight for me.”
But I’ve fought for so long.
And for the first time in my life I do the unthinkable. Not because I want to, but because I have absolutely nothing left.
I give up.
***
Muffled voice, the rattle of metal and whirl of a chopper blade and pain.
So much soul sucking pain.
“She’s back.” I swear it’s yells inside my skull. “Where’s the fucking IV bag.” I wince, I think I wince, internally I wince at least. My lids are sealed shut preventing me from opening my eyes and see the chaos I can feel going on around me.
I barely register the prick on my arm, but it triggers a bolt of fear coated panic.
My muscles are weak, barely responding but I give all I have to move away from whatever the hell they’re trying to pump into my body.
“Fuck,” someone curses near my face. “Hold her fucking still. Flakes calm her ass down. She doesn’t know what the hell is going on.”
“She’ll crash again-”
“Half Pint.” Immediately I still, my tensed muscles going lax. “Good girl, calm that tiny ass down. We’re trying what we can until we get to the base.” A cool calloused hand cups my cheek, turning my face. Soft lips brush against my ear. “Don’t you dare leave me again, you hear me. You’re mine, mine. I will follow you in death just to drag your fuckable ass back here. I’m not letting you go Elliot. Not now, not ever. You hear me, not ever.”
