Wicked, p.4
Wicked, page 4
“You can’t be serious, Michael! How? You heard what he said. We’ll need the exact location to get her body out.” When he was unmoved, she shouted, “You can’t leave her there!”
“You’re already walking a thin line, Kat. The Golovkin incident and coming here wasn’t your mission to choose.”
Kat narrowed her eyes and stared at Michael, trying to corral her anger. “She was there for me! How could I not try to find her when she was reported missing? At the very least, we need to know how they knew she was CIA and if her mission was compromised. She was here for the warheads. If one of them is used against civilians, it’s another black eye for the US. How will Washington feel about that?”
A look of anger and frustration on his face, Michael shook his head and angrily stared off into space. Finally, he met Kat’s eyes, the unrelenting look in his eyes deflating her hope she could get through to him. This wasn’t just about warheads and intel or even if they were compromised, this was about a brave woman’s death, their duty to bring her home and her sacrifice meaning something.
“I don’t need you to tell me this is a sensitive and volatile situation, Kat.” He jabbed his finger at her, and she took a step back. “You should have talked to me. I can only cover your ass so far. You have your orders, and I have mine. The answer is no.”
He left the room, and Kat just stood there, guilt, sorrow, and anger swirling into a volatile mix. She stormed out of the detention center and back to the barracks. She plopped down on the bed and sat there, her stomach churning. Suddenly, tears pushed at the backs of her eyes, the fatigue and trauma of the last forty-eight hours catching up to her.
She covered her face.
Hollywood leaned against the side of the building where they had their prisoner. He’d been curious about the man who had captured their wild Kat who seemed almost invincible. But it was clear Kat wasn’t quite in control here. Hollywood was appalled that Brandon, the rat bastard, wouldn’t go after one of their own. Maybe he could do something about that. He certainly could pull a rabbit out of his hat when the circumstances were right. And, they just might be.
He’d overheard Kat and Brandon’s shouting match over Amanda, the other missing operative. It was clear from watching Kat exit the building and stride across the compound just as the sun was going down, that she and Amanda were close. He knew all about teammates and just how far each and every member would go. One look at her ravaged, angry face, and he was determined to make a difference. She had been there for them with Blue and Charlie. She was fearless and strong. She was one of them now.
The sun was fully on the far-off mountain range, snow glistening a bright white. Damn, he missed skiing. He’d grown up in Vermont practically with a snowboard strapped to his feet. The crisp, cool air didn’t bother him a bit. As he headed toward the command center to get himself a jeep, a man came out of the building.
They both stopped dead and stared at each other. A smile split Hollywood’s face, and the kind of friendship, the kind of brotherhood that he shared with his team, crashed into him along with the joy of unexpectedly seeing family. “Dozer! What the fuck? I haven’t seen you…geez, has it been three years?” He and Joe Colson had gone to BUD/S together, served on the same team for three years before Hollywood had been assigned to his current team. Joe had gone out of the service with an injury.
“Jude fucking Lock. What the hell you been up to?”
“Shooting from the hip as usual. You?”
“Got me a gig with the Defense Intelligence Agency, its clandestine service.”
“DIA, huh?” He rapped Dozer on the forehead. “You using your smarts?”
Dozer laughed and nudged Hollywood. “Same as you, my friend. Brain over brawn.”
Hollywood laughed and considered himself lucky to have met Joe. He was a six foot five, two-hundred-and-thirty-pound beast, a jiu-jitsu expert, highly decorated former SEAL, and one of the best friends Hollywood had ever had, as close as one of his brothers—biological and team.
His shaved head, piercing blue eyes, massive shoulders, and thick forearms all earned him the name of Dozer.
“What are you doing here in this cesspool of a country?” Hollywood asked.
“This and that.”
“Ah, going to give me a stone wall, man? You know I have one of the highest classified ratings in the military.”
“Maybe if it comes up, I’ll tell you. Right now, where are you heading? We could go get a drink.”
“I’m heading out on a possible hookup, and I don’t want to scare her away.”
“I should have known there would be a woman somewhere in this scenario, you dog.”
“Hey, I can’t help it if I’m lovable.”
“When did you have time to meet her? She CIA?”
“As much as I like a lusty, fit officer who could kill me with her bare hands, I got approached by a pretty nurse at the hospital.”
“Where they took Kat?”
“Yes, you know about her abduction?”
He nodded. “We were briefed. She’s the kind of person I would go into hell for. I’m glad she’s okay.”
“Agreed.” He smiled at Dozer. “You want to go on an adventure?”
“Will this get me into hot water?”
“Probably. I can’t make any promises.”
Dozer chuckled. “How can I refuse?”
“Ha! Exactly. I’ll always show you a good time.”
“You’re making me blush.”
“Actually, I have a story about blushing you’ll be interested in.”
Fifteen minutes later, Hollywood was standing in front of Inna’s apartment building in a middle-class section of Kumma. He smiled as he reached for the buzzer and dialed her number. Her voice came over the speaker. “Yes?”
“It’s Hollywood.”
“Oh, yes, come up.”
The door buzzed, and he went through. He ignored the elevator and climbed the stairs two at a time to release the built-up sexual tension in his body. When he reached her apartment door, he knocked, and it opened. She was completely naked, and he laughed as she grabbed his jacket and pulled him inside.
“You are a very pretty man,” she said softly, her mouth covering his as she kissed him. She ran her hands up and over his biceps and across his shoulders. “Pretty muscles, too.”
She pushed his jacket off and pulled his T-shirt over his head, then reached for his jeans. He slid his hand over her breast, and she closed her eyes and breathed out hard, gasping as he pinched her nipple. She cupped him through his jeans, his dick rock hard, the pleasure rushing through him like adrenaline.
“You want to just fuck? No small talk?” He groaned softly as she squeezed him.
“No. Just fuck.”
“That works. We’re clear on the rules, right? One night only.”
“Very clear.”
“Excellent.”
She didn’t wait for any encouragement. She unbuckled his belt and released the zipper. His dick sprang free. Looking down, she let out a soft moan. Yeah, he got what it took in the package area, and this reaction wasn’t anything new.
Before his pants dropped, he grabbed a condom out of the back pocket. He always brought his own, never trusting a woman to have them, or to try to trap him with a pregnancy. He was after hot and dirty sex, and he intended for her to enjoy the experience as well. He always left them satisfied. So, flaming monkey sex was his goal, but the birth control gave him peace of mind.
He unwrapped it and rolled it along his shaft, sliding his hand around it, the pleasure pulsing through him.
He crowded her against the wall, looping his arm under her thigh. He lifted her leg and fit himself in between. She was already wet and aroused, and his erection slid along her slick flesh, the head of his cock burrowing into her tight sex.
She wrapped her arms around his neck and shuddered. He lifted her, and she wrapped her legs around his waist.
He began to move against her. She arched her back, thrusting her chest against his, gyrating her hips in rhythm to his thrusts. Her nails scored his shoulders where she hung on, her hand pressing between them to touch her clit.
He kissed her deeply, then playfully. He nipped the side of her neck, murmured hot, sexy words to her as they moved together. The pleasure built and intensified, thickening his dick until the pleasure was almost unbearable. Her kisses grew more urgent, more carnal, his thrusts deeper, driving, straining, filling her to the hilt, the head of his cock tingling with pleasure at the apex of his thrust.
“Oh, Hollywood,” she groaned, then drifted off into her native language, the hot sexy words and the look of rapture on her face as she locked her legs around him only brought him closer to exploding. That deliciously hot and intense feeling enveloped him and threatened to consume him.
He slipped his hand between them and touched the bud of her clit, taking her over the edge. Taking them both over the edge.
“Fuck,” he murmured as he came.
After a few minutes, he released her, and she slid slickly down his body. “That was the best fuck I have ever had.”
He grinned. “It’s not over, honey. I’m just getting warmed up.”
“Oh, really,” she whispered.
They moved to the bed, and it wasn’t long before he was hard again. An hour later, he reclined on her bed, his eyes closed, but his senses alert. When the cold steel of a pistol pressed against his temple, he opened his eyes and turned his head. A woman stood there; Inna was on her knees, tears running down her cheeks. She was still naked. “I’m so sorry,” she said, her voice breaking. “She made me do it.”
“Get up,” the stunning woman said, steel in her voice. Hollywood smiled. The sweet brunette was dressed in leather, the jacket full of buckles and zippers. The boots were shear dominatrix as was the unrelenting look in her brown eyes and the determination in her delicate features. Her beauty would easily get her close enough to slice off a man’s balls.
With a lightning quick move, he knocked the gun away, and the silenced shot went into the mattress. He twisted her wrist, and she cried out, the gun falling from her hand. He was already out of the bed, buck-assed naked, kicking the weapon away as he brought her to her knees. Women were cunning, and Hollywood wasn’t surprised when she pulled a knife and sliced a shallow stinging cut on his thigh before his dodge instinct kicked in. Warm blood seeped and trickled down his leg.
He’d been expecting this kind of ambush since Inna had approached him at the hospital. If it hadn’t been a set-up, he would have gotten dressed and gone drinking with Dozer. Blocking her wrist for another strike to the groin sent him slightly off balance. The woman twisted and swept his feet out from under him. He let go of her hand, and she lunged for the gun. Inna watched them with hopeful eyes; bound and cowed, there was nothing she could do.
The woman was fast and light on her feet. She kicked out at him, aiming for his groin again, and he twisted away at the last minute before she could connect. She rose, balancing on the balls of her feet. She was a skilled opponent. It was a good thing he was an expert at hand to hand.
She threw her body at Hollywood, and she bore him back. She used her foot to trip him, and he fell to his back. She straddled his chest, leaning down to grab his hair and slam his head against the floor. He saw stars.
Then he found her ankle. Grasping it, he threw her legs up and propelled himself forward. The motion sent the crazy bitch backwards, and Hollywood clamped his legs around her middle.
He squeezed, put all his strength into it, knowing if he didn’t stop her, he wouldn’t be able to get Inna free.
There was no way she was dying tonight.
Blood seeped from his wound as he pressed harder and heard her breath labor. Harder still, and Hollywood felt rib bones give under the pressure. One cracked, then another, and the woman screamed, pushed at his legs. The tortured sound made Inna cringe and whimper.
Refusing to let her go as she gasped for air, Hollywood pressed until she had none left in her lungs. The woman faded into unconsciousness. Hollywood released her, kicking her away, noticing the tat on her arm as he jumped to his feet.
The woman regained consciousness in moments, and with both hands, Hollywood grabbed her by the shirt and dragged her to her feet. She could barely stand upright.
“Lights out, honey,” he said, then landed two sharp, quick punches to her face. Cartilage folded, and blood poured.
The woman’s eyes rolled, legs softening, and he released her. She fell, her head bouncing on the floor.
Hollywood exhaled as Inna started to sob softly.
He knelt down and untied her. “Get out of here and don’t look back. Don’t contact anyone,” he said softly into her ear.
“She threatened my family.”
“I understand. Get going,” he ordered, lifting her up from the floor and giving her a little push. Her eyes widened, but he’d already felt the woman’s presence.
He turned to find her holding the gun.
“Run, Inna.”
She bolted out of the apartment, and the woman let her go.
“Get dressed. If you try anything, I’ll shoot you, then I’ll go and kill her and her family.”
“No trouble,” he murmured as he slowly reached for his jeans.
Wicked stepped out of the shower, a towel around his waist as he walked back to the barracks in his combat boots. He stopped dead when he saw Kat sitting on a bunk, her head in her hands.
Kat didn’t cry. Ever. Well, maybe that was because she was alone, and it was the only time she allowed herself to break down. He had no idea what kind of burden she was carrying as she didn’t confide in him, but he couldn’t seem to keep offering the olive branch with the hope that she would accept it.
Fuck him. He fucking cared about her.
He walked over to her and crouched down. “Talk to me, Kat.”
She jerked upright and stared at him, her ravaged face breaking his damn heart.
“I have to. I—” She started a couple of times, then closed her mouth.
“Take it easy, wild Kat. There’s no hurry.” She looked on the verge of a scream.
“I came to Kumma without CIA orders to find Amanda. She took over for me when I got food poisoning at the last minute.”
“This is all about guilt and obligation?”
She scoffed. “No. It’s about covering her back. It’s about a promise. You’d do anything for your brothers.”
It wasn’t a question. He sighed and nodded. “I would. I’d give up my life for them.”
She stared at him, her eyes dark and fixed, then she swallowed hard and abruptly turned her head, her expression starkly contained. Wicked watched her for a moment; then looked down, waiting for her to continue.
“She and I…she was there that day…”
She hunched her shoulders as he met her eyes, the power of her pain reaching out and capturing him, churning up the utter agony of losing his brother. “Of course, I remember her from that op, but I had no idea she was that close to you.”
“How could you? I closed you out, and I have been closed for five years.” He reached out and clasped her hand, squeezing briefly, trying to handle his own emotions. She was turning him inside out. “She was comfort and support. She was my lifeline. Without her, I would have lost myself.”
The torture of her emotions flowed into her words. God, he’d wanted to be that for her. He’d wanted it the moment he’d walked out of that fiery explosion carrying the man she loved in his arms. But she had never been his to hold or comfort, and she never would be. There was just too much standing between them.
If only he could let her go.
Her eyes went glassy. “Amanda had her arms around me when they loaded Phoenix’s casket with the flag into the belly of the jet that would take him home. I remember standing there, the field behind the plane filled with purple wildflowers. I love purple flowers. I wanted them at my wedding.”
She looked at him, quiet for a moment, and Wicked saw the horrible memory in her eyes.
“He was gone. Just gone. And you…you almost died, too.”
Wicked didn’t think she realized she was crying so hard, her shoulders lurching with nearly every word.
“I was so glad you recovered his body.” With a flat hand, Kat patted her chest. “I would have searched the rubble until I found him no matter how long it took. Fallen heroes deserve to be honored, deserve to be found and brought home. But he won’t go after her, just like they didn’t find my dad.” She covered her eyes, trying to control her sobbing.
Wicked’s heart contracted for her, for them, her voice fracturing with every word.
“Who won’t go after her?” he whispered, reaching out and pushing back a long strand of damp hair, hooking it over her ear.
“Michael. He’s more worried about politics and covering his ass. I can’t leave her out there, Wicked.” She swallowed, her voice getting stronger. “We can’t leave her behind.”
“I don’t give a damn what Brandon thinks or does,” Wicked said, his eyes narrowing, his mouth tightening.
“She died for her country, and I am not leaving her out there.”
“Damn straight. Do you know where she is?”
She stood, rubbing at her face. “Technically, yes, the rebel stronghold. Concretely, no. Our prisoner won’t say. He did say we’d need a small army to get her out.”
“We’re SEALs. We don’t need a damned army,” Wicked growled.
“I’m coming with you. Michael won’t like it.”
“I don’t give a flying fuck. We don’t leave anyone behind…ever,” he said low and fierce, giving her a brisk nod.
“Hoo-yah,” she said.
His mouth kicked up. He reached down into his pocket and grabbed his earpiece. Turning it on, he slid it into his ear. “LT?”
“Yes,” Ruckus said.
“We have a situation here with a CIA operative.” He told his boss what Kat had said, and Ruckus responded that he would contact the brass and to hang tight until he got a response.
