Wicked, p.2
Wicked, page 2
“Great accommodations, but the view leaves much to be desired.” She looked up at the huge metal beam above her. I am never going to give you those names. No matter what you do to me. And she meant it. Those SEALs had always had her back, and she wasn’t going to give them up to these bastards. She’d rather die. In fact, she had every expectation that they were looking for her right now. It wasn’t lost on her that she depended on them finding her, more than she trusted her own agency.
Even though it wasn’t exactly what she wanted. It was her current reality.
“You will talk, bitch.”
“Let me guess. You have ways? I’m a bit disappointed I didn’t get a maniacal laugh.”
Scowling, he left the room with his buddy in tow, closing the door with a boom that reverberated through the enclosed space.
She closed her eyes as every ache and pain in her body washed through her. Taking a deep cleansing breath, she tightened her upper body and concentrated. She brought her knees up to her chest, then using the hook as a fulcrum, she curled her body up, contracting her arms and back to give her the slack she needed to loosen her bound hands. Sore muscles screamed, her empty stomach protested, but she mustered every ounce of energy she had left and channeled it into her tired, bruised muscles. There was no defeat here. She wouldn’t ever give up as long as there was breath in her body.
With slow, steady strength, she pushed up until her body was balanced on the beam above her, then she unhooked her hands and started on the bindings.
Ten minutes and she had herself free, another five and her ankles were untied. With an agile move, she swung her body off the beam and dropped down to the concrete. She stumbled, her legs taking a moment to support her after being immobile for so long in that chair.
She rested for a few seconds and looked at the windows in the room. They were too high, and she wasn’t going to get out using that route. She would have to fight her way out. Either she was going to escape, or she was going to die trying.
She put her hand on the doorknob and went to turn it, but before she could, it pushed back. She found herself flat on her back. Without waiting for the person who had come through the door to react to her being free, she got to her feet and charged him.
He countered her punch to his face, almost as if he knew her moves, and her flurry of kicks met…body armor.
The man she was grappling with suddenly grabbed her upper arms and got her back enough to discover who she’d been trying to take down.
“Got your hands full, there, Wicked. Need a little help?”
She snapped her head up and met a pair of very blue, very amused eyes. “Hollywood!”
“Good thing we took those bastards out. She would have killed them with her bare hands.”
“So, you weren’t worried,” she said.
More men pushed through the door. Ruckus, Scarecrow, and Kid.
“Hoo-yah!” Kid said, and he saluted her. “You have nine lives, lady.”
“Was that an attempt at humor?” Tank asked as he just wrapped her up in his big arms and squeezed, lifting her right off the floor. Everything protested, but God it felt good. Bronte whined and licked her hand. She absently petted the dog.
“Yeah, her name’s Kat,” Kid said in a duh voice.
“If you have to explain the joke, it’s not a joke,” Blue said, immediately drawing her over to a chair and pushing her down into it, his blue eyes concerned. “Let me take a look at you.”
“I’m fine,” she said.
“Ol’ Blue here will decide if you’re fine,” Cowboy said, crouching down and smiling.
Through all of this, Wicked just stood there in the doorway where she’d tried to take him down without effect. For a moment she couldn’t look at him, remembering how she hadn’t wanted to die without resolving things between them. But suddenly everything seemed to shift inside her, and she felt a bit sick at what she had just gone through. She would never let them see how much it had affected her because these guys knew already.
But every cell, every muscle, every fiber of her being was so aware of him staring at her like she was his next breath.
“Blue?” Ruckus asked.
“We can move her, but she needs medical attention, LT.”
“Copy that. We’re in rebel territory. Can you keep up?” he asked, and she nodded. The SEALs moved as one. Kat rose and took two steps toward the door, but it must have been adrenaline that had kept her going for so long. With the danger over for the moment, her body seemed to collapse in on itself.
Her knees buckled, but before she hit the deck, Wicked caught her against him. “I’m okay,” she mumbled into his chest.
“No, you’re not,” he said in that infuriating way. Then without waiting for her to get her legs back under her, he bent down and flipped her over his shoulder. She could feel the corded muscles contract against her abdomen and heavy bulging ones in the arm he used to anchor her. With his forearm across the backs of her knees, he started moving.
It was a dizzying ride through the next room, dead faces rushing past with bullet holes in their foreheads, to the waiting chopper. Wicked didn’t slow and he didn’t lose his grip on her. She wanted to yell to put her down, and she wanted to pummel his back, but her energy was spent.
She heard the chopper before she felt the whirling blades. Lifting her head, she saw headlights in the distance. They were coming after them, but they would be too late. Her guys never did anything by half measures. When they rescued someone, that person thanked their lucky stars. She thanked hers.
That was until he came to an abrupt halt and pulled her from his shoulder. His strong grip never left her, and she was mashed to his chest as the chopper hovered to land behind her. The rest of the SEALs were facing the road, their guns up and their faces fixed in battle hard mode. Kat breathed deeply, the memory of how that “fucking bastard,” or FB as she’d delighted in calling him to his face just to see his rage, had tortured her flashed in her mind, as if once hadn’t been enough. She clutched at Wicked’s vest, and his attention dropped to her. His arms tightened around her, his hand cupped the back of her head and massaged it a little. She suddenly breathed him in, a man that she had kept at a distance for a very long time, dangerous enough that none of this seemed to make sense. It was a stupid move.
“How’re you holding up?” he asked in the deepest voice on the planet.
She tipped her head back and met his dark gaze. “I knew you would come for me.”
His gaze roamed her face like he was trying to scrape away the layers and see deeper. She was suddenly caught, hemmed in, his presence a shield closing out the forest, the danger. It made her nerves keen, sentient, her body shifted into his as if that’s where she belonged. He didn’t back off, frowning down at her, and she had the urge to cup his face.
“Always. You can fucking bank on that, wild Kat,” he said close to her ear, and it sent a chill down her body. His face was scary right now. That’s what she wanted when a rebel force was hellbent on getting information out of her—men armed to the teeth with the kind of fuck-you attitude that pulled redheads out of danger.
As the chopper touched down, Wicked was moving with her. Actually, she had no choice. He loaded her into the chopper like cargo, simply picked her up and hefted her inside to Hollywood, who caught her and set her down into one of the seats.
The rest of them loaded in just as the headlights turned toward them, off-roading it across the field.
“Boy, that can’t be good for the transmission,” Kid said as the chopper lifted. Tank chuckled, and Blue gave Kid a big grin.
Kat pulled into herself now that she was completely safe. She’d been a fool to think that anything could be easily resolved with Wicked. Maybe it would have been better if FB had shoved that spiked piece of metal into her brain.
It would have been ten times less painful than deciding to open old wounds and deep, festering emotions.
2
Municipal Hospital
Kumma, Kirikhanistan
Hollywood shifted, all that unresolved sexual frustration electrifying the air. The yelling was loud in the exam room, and nurses and doctors glanced toward that direction every so often. It sounded like Wicked and Kat were going to kill each other. Ha! That woman had a hide like a rhino and the disposition of one. Whatever she couldn’t ram over, she’d gore with that sharp mouth of hers.
But this didn’t have anything to do with danger or with finding out what had happened—they were still in the “need to know” vacuum. And as special operators and freaking alpha males, it was sticking in everyone’s craw.
No, this was about sexual tension. He just wished the two of them would fuck and get it over with. He’d even tried to help it along by getting Wicked jealous. Hitting on Kat felt strange, as Hollywood never coveted a buddy’s girl, but it was for a good cause, and he was damn good at it.
Except the two of them were stubborn as hell and had some major shit going on between them. If the volume were any indication, Kat, injured or not, was going to kick Wicked’s ass.
“If she takes him down, I want to see that,” Kid murmured.
Cowboy snickered. “It would give us ribbing rights for the rest of our lives. Boy howdy, I’d like to see that, too.”
One of the pretty nurses, who had been walking back and forth maybe a little too obviously, smiled at Hollywood. When he smiled back, she approached him. “Is everything good?” she asked in broken English. Hollywood unsnapped his chin strap and removed his helmet, attaching it to his tech vest. Damn she had sweet brown eyes.
“As well as can be expected,” he said and shifted his body toward hers. She nodded, then smiled as he lowered his automatic weapon. She looked over at Blue who was talking to the doctor, her eyes appraising him. “He’s taken. In fact, all of them are except me.” Why did that make him feel hollow all of a sudden?
She looked back at him. “I’m Inna. You like date?”
“You can call me Hollywood. But I don’t really date. It’s one time, honey. If you’re interested in that, we can have a few laughs.”
She took a breath and pulled a piece of paper out of one of the pockets of her scrubs. She wrote something on it, then handed it to him. “One time. That will be enough.”
“All right. I’ll call you.”
She tucked the paper into his vest. Tank shook his head and laughed, nudging Scarecrow, who looked over and said, “You don’t waste any time, do you, my friend?”
“Nope. I’m an equal opportunity manwhore.”
The language tinged the air blue and the voices got louder. He wondered why Ruckus was out here and where Kat’s boss was. No one seemed to want to break up that shoutfest. Well sooner or later it was going to come to a head, and when it did, someone was going to get hurt.
“Maybe we should break it up?” Hollywood suggested.
Ruckus laughed softly and said, “I think we’ll wait.”
“You can’t tell me what to do,” she said, eyeing all six foot, five inches of him. “Just get out of my way.” Going around him was an option, but he looked like he had no intention of letting her get out of this exam room. They’d already been arguing for ten minutes.
“You’re not going anywhere until someone looks at you and gets you patched up.”
She had to admit that their rescue had been so welcome after the hours of torture she’d endured, not to mention, fighting her way out of there would have been difficult at the very least. It was a moment of weakness she didn’t plan to repeat. Her resolve was rejuvenated and her fortitude stronger than ever.
“Who’s going to stop me? You?”
She hadn’t gotten through life by shrinking from a confrontation or allowing anyone to coerce her into backing down from something that mattered to her. She wanted information about Amanda Mack, her colleague who had disappeared, and where her body was so that the agency could bring her home, give her a proper burial, and award her the star on the wall she deserved.
Leaving anyone behind, for Kat, wasn’t just a military thing, it was ingrained in her when she understood that her dad’s remains were still out there, unaccounted for. His grave was unmarked and lost. He deserved to be claimed and buried. She wouldn’t rest until he came home.
She’d learned a valuable lesson of being strong and determined at the age of twelve, after the disappearance of her father, Daniel Harrington. Her mother’s emotional withdrawal had followed, leaving Kat to be the strong one in the family. She’d learned to depend on no one but herself and developed the courage to take chances and fight for what she believed in or wanted. And she never left anyone behind, not like they had with her dad.
Wicked closed his eyes and took a deep breath, then took a step toward her, crowding her back to the empty gurney. “If need be.”
“I can take you, Wicked.”
“You can try, and if you do get past me, there are seven men out there you’ll have to bulldoze through who will haul your ass back in here to wait for the doc.”
“I have a job to do and lives are on the line.”
“It can wait until you get medical attention.”
She gave him a dirty look. “You aren’t my boss.”
“You need a damn keeper.” With his fingers wrapped tightly around his weapon, he remained perfectly still and stared at her, the annoyance on his face more than she usually got out of the stoic SEAL.
“That is most definitely not going to be you,” she said, her voice rising.
His jaw flexed, and something snapped. Wicked was downright furious, and he didn’t have to say a word to express his simmering anger. The energy in the room drew even more tense as if the very molecules were feeding off their power. The hard set of his body, his clenched jaw, and his fuming silence said it all.
Despite the rapid beat of her heart, she remained where she was. She would not be intimidated by him in any way, not professionally, not personally, and most decidedly, not sexually. This whole mission was a bust—not only Amanda’s disappearance, but in getting the intel on the warheads. Why she’d taken this team assignment, knowing Wicked was on the team, was beyond her. She should have run in the other direction. Why did he always have to look so damn good?
That last thought had her insides jumping. He had an amazing body, athletic and honed to perfection from all the workouts he went through to stay on the cutting edge for the SEALs. He was tall, with wide shoulders that tapered to a lean waist. Camouflage pants with the body armor hugged his tight ass and strong-looking thighs. There wasn’t an ounce of excess fat on his lean, muscled frame, from what she could see.
He wore his dark brown hair longer than he should. The thick, glossy strands were tousled around his head from his helmet that he’d set on one of the tables by the door, adding to his brutally handsome face. The man was rugged and a little rough around the edges, tempting in one breath-stealing package. A combat-hardened warrior who made her want things against her will.
What the hell was she thinking? There would be no getting that close to this man who made her second-guess every emotion, every thought, every action she’d ever had.
Dammit, wasn’t she supposed to be working out their differences? Hadn’t she said that very thing when she’d been close to death only an hour ago? Why was this so difficult?
She sighed. Maybe because it was impossible. Maybe she couldn’t let go. Maybe you’re too scared about what will happen between you if you do? She pushed that niggling thought away. What was important here was to find out information not only about her colleague, but about the warheads.
“Dammit, Kat! Will you, for one minute, stop thinking about everything else and take care of yourself! We almost lost you. I almost—”
He cut off his words. She’d expected him to remain quiet and not vent his anger. Wicked didn’t let much show, but the concern for her was naked on his face, and she heard what he hadn’t said—I almost lost you.
They were saved from the awkward moment when the door opened, and Michael Brandon and Ruckus walked through. She stared for a moment, hardly believing her boss was here in Kirikhanistan. But with two operatives who had gone missing, maybe it warranted his attention.
“Michael? What are you doing here?” She and Michael went way back. He’d been her mentor, and he’d told her all about her dad. To have Michael tell her about her father had been gold, and they’d had a brief affair before she’d met her fiancé. It was clear to her that all she had to do was say the word, and he would be happy to pick up where they’d left off. But that wouldn’t ever happen.
“We’ve had two operatives disappear in less than two days.”
“Why didn’t we know there was another operative missing?”
“Because you didn’t need to know that to rescue Kat. Our other operative is under deep cover. It’s possible she’s gone to hiding. We don’t need a bunch of door kickers mucking up her op.”
Kat had been a CIA officer long enough to know not to trust anyone, not even Michael. She had to watch her back because someone had leaked information about Amanda and about her. Amanda was still out there, and if the SEALs hadn’t rescued Kat, she would have been killed. “Tell me you have someone left alive after you rescued me.”
“Yes, our secondary team got someone, wounded but alive, and we’re still processing him. You can interrogate him.”
“After you get medical attention, a shower, and some food,” Wicked said. Her heart contracted. He was thinking of her welfare before her boss, before even herself.
“All right.” It seemed to be the only way for her to get out of here and get back to work.
“What happened?” Michael asked, his tone flat with a hint of accusation.
