Navy SEAL to Die For (10 page)

The jungle around him was dark, the canopy so thick not a single star shone through as he and his team huddled beneath leaves and brush, awaiting the moment they would infiltrate the terrorist compound, dispatch the leader and detonate explosives around the weapons and ammunition cache stockpiled for an attack on the United States.

They’d done their homework, studied the intel and practiced the maneuver back at Stennis. They were ready.

“Initiate Operation Viper.” The command came over his headset, setting the event in motion. SEALs left their concealed positions and moved forward, surrounding the encampment. One by one they took out the sentries guarding the perimeter. Not a shot was fired. The guards didn’t know they were in trouble until the blades swept across their throats.

Once inside the perimeter, the team split up. Montana set up a sniper position at one end of the camp. Duff and Quentin found the shed containing the stockpile of weapons and ammunition. They made quick work of setting the explosives and timers on the detonators.

Five minutes.

The team had a very short amount of time to dispatch the leader and get out of the camp before the charges detonated, setting off the fireworks. If they weren’t halfway down the river by then, they might be caught up in the hundreds of rounds of ammunition going off, or be taken out by the stockpiled mortars or grenades that would be set off by the explosion and ensuing fire.

Quentin and Duff were to set the charges and work their way back to the river and man the boat that would take them down river. There they would wait for the rest of the team.

Duff and Quentin were at the edge of the camp when the first shot was fired. Shouts sounded and more rounds went off.

“Madre de Dios, I’m hit,” Juan Garza’s voice said into Quentin’s headset.

“I have him,” Trent Rucker said. “Headed for the boat.”

“Target acquired,” Montana said. “Get out. Now!”

Quentin and Duff dropped where they were, prepared to cover the team’s exit from the camp.

“Loverboy and Duff will cover. Everyone else move out,” Duff said.

One by one shadows emerged from the camp, crouched low, running.

Trent Rucker appeared with Juan slung over his shoulder in a fireman’s carry. Montana was right behind them, another body wrapped around his shoulders.

The terrorists fired into the night, unable to see what they were aiming at. The brilliant blaze inside their camp made the surrounding jungle even darker. A vehicle engine roared to life and a truck spun, the headlights blinking on, pointed in the direction the SEALs ran.

“Damn.” Quentin stared down his rifle’s sights aiming carefully. He took a breath, held it and pulled the trigger. One headlight blinked out.

Duff took out the other. It gave them a few precious moments to get out of there before another vehicle was aimed their direction or someone found a spotlight.

Quentin shot a glance at the glowing dial on his watch. “One minute to lift off.”

“Time to go, Loverboy,” Duff said.

As the last word left Duff’s mouth, the mother of all explosions shook the earth.

Quentin closed his eyes, ducked low and covered his ears.

A hand touched his shoulder. “Time to go, Loverboy.” Duff’s voice sounded different this time—lighter, more feminine and completely sexy.

Quentin blinked and stared up into deep brown eyes. “Duff?”

The eyes sparkled. “Sorry. Not Duff. We have to get off the train. We’re in DC and Ivan disembarked a minute ago.”

Jerking to his feet, Quentin woke instantly. He gripped Becca’s arm and hurried with her off the train, his gaze scouring the crowd of people, on their way to work in the city.

“You were supposed to wake me in two hours.” He glanced down at his watch. It had been over four.

“You were sleeping so soundly, I didn’t have the heart to wake you.” She glanced down at the tracker. “He should be really close.”

Quentin glanced around, spotted a man about the same height and build as Ivan shoving bills into a ticket kiosk for the DC metro. “He’s buying a ticket to the metro.”

Ivan completed his transaction and turned toward them.

Quentin spun and grabbed Becca in a bear hug.

“What are you doing?” she said, struggling to free herself.

“He’s looking our way.” He bent his head, to hide his face. “Now kiss me, or risk being shot.”

Becca complied, kissing him hard on the mouth. “Is he still looking this way?” she asked against his lips.

“No. He’s headed for a turnstile. Come on, we have to buy tickets and get on with him.” Quentin dropped his arms, grabbed her hand and ran for the kiosk.

Between the two of them, they fed bills into the machine and bought two tickets. Then they waited their turn at the turnstile, barely making it onto the metro train before the doors closed tight.

Fortunately, Ivan wasn’t in the same car as they were. The GPS device indicated he was nearby.

His pulse pounding, Quentin circled an arm around Becca’s waist. “Anyone ever tell you that you’re kind of exciting to be around?”

She laughed, the dark smudges beneath her eyes a clear sign she was exhausted. “No. Most of my dates aren’t subjected to what you’ve gone through in the past couple of days.”

“You know how to show a guy a good time.” He winked. “We have to get to a point where you can get some sleep or you’ll run out of gas.”

“I can manage,” she said and yawned.

“Right. Total exhaustion starts manifesting itself like having had too many drinks.”

The train jerked and sped forward. With the sudden surge of motion, Becca fell into Quentin. “You may have a point there, Loverboy.”

Quentin’s arm tightened around her. “Give me the tracker and relax against me.”

Becca handed over the device and closed her eyes. Holding on to the pole for balance, she leaned heavily into Quentin. “I think I could fall to sleep standing up.”

“I’ve tried it. I don’t recommend it.” His arm tightened. “But you can go halfway there and still remain upright.”

“As long as you’re holding me, I think I’ll be okay.”

God, he hoped so. Wherever this adventure led, he hoped she’d be okay, and that he could protect her from Ivan or anyone else targeting her for elimination.

Chapter Ten

“He’s getting off.”

Becca jerked awake at the sound of Quentin’s voice, warm against her ear. She straightened and stepped toward the door.

Quentin held her elbow, steadying her to keep her from tripping or falling into the gap between the train and the platform.

Still fuzzy-headed from drifting off while standing in the curve of Quentin’s arms, Becca shook herself and blinked several times. Her gaze panned the sea of faces concentrating on navigating the metro stop.

For a brief moment, she thought she spotted Ivan. “Was that—”

“Yes, that was him.” Quentin grabbed her hand and hurried after the man. “We might lose him here, but we have the GPS. Until he changes clothes or discovers the chip, we can find him.”

“Good, because he’s getting into a taxi.” Becca turned her back and pulled Quentin’s face down to hers for a quick kiss while the taxi pulled away from the curb and passed them standing on the sidewalk.

As soon as the vehicle was gone, Becca stepped back. “Come on, let’s get a taxi and follow.”

“For the record, I’d rather finish that kiss.” He nodded. “I know. Time for that later.”

“Ha.” Becca’s insides warmed at the heat in Quentin’s eyes. “Like we have time for playing around when a killer like Ivan is running loose in DC.” She wanted to finish the kiss, too, but was afraid of letting Ivan get too far ahead. The man could find the tag at any time and they’d lose him. Then they would be back to square one.

Becca stepped into the queue for taxis. The line wasn’t long. Two minutes later they were in a cab, following the GPS tracker. The cabbie didn’t have a problem driving around without a set destination, as long as he was getting paid. Ivan’s colored blip stopped before they caught up to him. He’d stopped at an inexpensive chain hotel.

Quentin and Becca had the driver drop them at a coffee shop across the street.

“Now what?” Quentin asked.

“We wait and see what he does next?” Becca responded. She pulled out the disposable phone Royce had given her and dialed Geek.

“Yeah.”

“Geek, it’s me, Becca.”

“Good. I’m glad you called. Where are you?”

“In DC.”

“I’ve got Sam Russell on standby to help out. When can you get to the office?”

“We’ve staked out Ivan.” She told him the name and location of the hotel and coffee shop. “We can’t leave until he makes his next move.”

Quentin took the phone from her and said, “Any possibility this Sam guy can take over and let us get a couple hours of sleep?”

“Absolutely,” Geek said loud enough Becca could hear.

Quentin handed the phone back to Becca.

“I’ll send Sam right over. Royce had me run a few checks. I have some information that might be interesting to you.”

“Royce?” Becca shook her head. “Please tell me he’s still in the hospital.”

Geek laughed. “He called from his hospital room around three this morning, grumbling something about bloodsuckers. He thinks he’ll be on a plane back to headquarters tonight.”

“I hope he’s all right.”

“The docs said he’d be fine. The bullet missed all the bones and didn’t do too much damage to the muscles. He’ll have his arm in a sling for a couple weeks. Other than that, he’s chomping at the bit to get back on this case.”

Becca chuckled. “Sounds like Royce.”

“Yeah,” Geek said. “You can’t keep the man down. Now let me get that call to Sam. Sounds like you two had a long night of surveillance.”

“We did. I could use a shower and a change of clothes.”

“After your debrief, you can head to your apartment.”

“Speaking of my apartment, did Sam make it by? Did I get any packages?” She didn’t add the thought that hurt the most—had she received any packages from her father?

“He did go by, but didn’t find any packages in your box or at the apartment building office. But don’t take my word. Talk to him when he gets there.”

Becca’s hopes sank and the exhaustion that tugged at her eyelids dragged her down even more. “Thanks. See you in a few.” She ended the call and lifted the cup of coffee Quentin had ordered for her.

“No package?” Quentin asked.

She shook her head and set the coffee on the table. “I really hoped my father would have left a message, a clue or something to help me figure out why someone would want to harm him. I feel like I’m clawing my way through a rather large spider web and not making any progress whatsoever.”

“And I have the feeling that the spider is waiting to pounce,” Quentin finished for her. He leaned across the table and covered her hand with his.

“Yeah. And I’ll have no defense against whoever started this mess.”

“You’ll have me.” Quentin squeezed her fingers gently.

Becca stared at their joined hands and sighed. “Not if this case drags on past your authorized leave.”

“Royce said he could pull strings and get permission for me to stay on until the job’s done.” He lifted her fingers to his lips and pressed a light kiss to the backs of her knuckles. “Don’t worry about me. You need to take care of yourself.”

She liked how warm his hands were and how good it felt to have Quentin take care of her. “Someone has to keep an eye on Ivan.”

“He’s probably in that hotel sleeping the day away. Like we should be.”

“And if he’s not?”

“Sam is going to be here. If Royce trusts him to take over the surveillance effort, you should.”

“I’d trust Sam with my life,” Becca admitted. “He’s one of the good guys. Along with Royce and the rest of the SOS team.”

“That’s the way I feel about SBT 22,” Quentin said. “We’re a tight-knit group. Closer than family, in most cases.”

Becca’s throat tightened around a knot forming there. The talk of family reminded her of what she no longer had. Her family. Her father.

“Hey.” Quentin scooted his chair around the table to slip an arm around her waist. “I’m sorry about your father, and I understand why you’re so dead set on finding the one responsible.”

“Thanks.” She leaned her cheek against his shoulder. “I haven’t slowed down long enough to let it sink in too much. I’m afraid if I do, I won’t be good for anything.” She glanced up as the door to the coffee shop opened and a couple walked in. She’d recognize them anywhere. Sam and Kat Russell. Two of the most dedicated and effective SOS agents. And her friends.

Kat hurried forward and enveloped her in a hug. “I’m sorry about what happened to your dad,” she said. “I tried to reach you when I heard, but you’d already gone to Cancun.”

“Thanks.” Becca hugged her back and then was enveloped in a hug from Sam, Kat’s husband.

“You’ve been a very busy woman,” he said, practically crushing her bones in a bear-like clench. “And what’s this I hear about getting Royce shot?” He winked. “I’m sure the old man is giving his nurses hell in the hospital.”

“He’s a fighter. We just hope he’s not fighting the doctors and nurses.” Becca smiled at her friends. “Thanks for taking up the vigil. I’m desperate to get a shower and clothes that fit.” She filled them in on the man they were watching, handed over the tracking device and waited to see if they had any questions.

“Sam and I have this covered,” Kat said. “We’ll let you know if Ivan leaves the hotel.”

“Thanks.” Becca yawned. “Now if I could only get a cab.”

“Geek has one better than that.” Kat grinned. “He sent the company car to take you to the office. It’s waiting in the parking lot.”

“You’re kidding, right?” Becca could feel that day improving by the minute.

“I never kid about chauffeur-driven transportation.” Kat cupped Becca’s elbow and ushered her to the door of the coffee shop. “Go. Have your briefing with Geek and get to your apartment for some sleep.”

“I will, thanks to you two.”

“Any time,” Sam replied for both of them.

Becca hooked her arm through Quentin’s and led him out the door to the waiting limousine. The chauffeur opened the door for her and stood back.

Becca slid into the backseat and immediately melted into the plush leather. “This is heaven.” She leaned her head back and closed her eyes. “You might as well close your eyes. It’ll take a good thirty to forty-five minutes to get to the SOS office building.”

“Hard not to in this ride,” Quentin said.

Becca closed her gritty eyes and drifted to sleep immediately, waking all too soon when the driver stopped in front of the building that housed the headquarters of the Stealth Operations Specialists. She moaned. “Do we have to get out? Can’t Geek come to us?”

“Come on, sweetheart.” Quentin got out and reached in for her hand. “We’ll ask him to make it short.”

“It better be.” She placed her hand in his and let him pull her out of the vehicle. Her foot caught on the curb, and Becca stumbled into Quentin’s arms.

He scooped her up and carried her into the building.

“I’m capable of walking,” she said, trying for a stern look which she found hard to do when he was being gallant, and it felt so good to let him.

“I know you are. But it’s not often I catch you with your defenses down. I have to take advantage of it while I can.” His lips lifted in that killer smile Becca was sure charmed the panties off every lady in every port.

Including her. She had to send him back to Mississippi soon, or she’d fall deeply, madly and stupidly in love with this big, strong navy SEAL. That possibility had “mistake” written all over it.

Geek met them at the door and held it open as they entered. “Are you all right, Becca?” he asked, concern etched into his young face.

“I’m fine, but this Neanderthal thinks I need to be babied. Please tell him that I’m a kick-ass agent capable of stopping bad guys dead in their tracks with nothing more than a killer look.”

Geek laughed out loud, and then sobered when Becca glared at him. “Er...what she said.”

Quentin finally set her on her feet. “As you wish.”

Hell, she wished he’d kiss her and take her to bed. But setting her on her feet was a good start. Becca flung back her shoulders, pushing aside the intense fatigue plaguing her and faced Geek. “What information do you have for us?”

“This.” Geek sat behind a computer screen and ran his hands over a keyboard. A screen popped up with a familiar face on it.

“That’s Oscar Melton,” Becca said. “He and my father were close friends in the CIA. He’s like an uncle to me. His office is—was—next door to my father’s.”

Geek hit several keys and another screen came up with numbers scrolling down the side. “This is Melton’s bank account.” He pointed to the screen. “See the large sums of money added to his account and then paid out?”

Becca frowned. “Yes. So?”

“Those dollars match the ones hitting Ivan’s secret account.”

“No way.” Becca shook her head. “My father trusted Oscar. They were really close.”

“I’m not finished. Stay with me a little longer,” Geek said. He pointed to the screen. “Note that the dates of these transactions show over a week ago.”

“Yeah, about the time my father was murdered,” she said her voice trailing off with the force of emotion welling up inside.

“Right, but when I dig deeper, I noticed the actual dates of these transfers are yesterday. The timestamps don’t match the dates.”

“What does that mean?” Becca asked.

“It means someone entered those dates to reflect what they wanted to reflect.”

Becca’s skin grew cold. “Someone is framing Oscar Melton.”

“That’s my guess.” Geek leaned back in his chair and stared at both Becca and Quentin. “One more thing. I found Ivan’s room in the hotel, based on when he checked in. I’ve been listening in on his phone calls.”

“And?” Becca prompted.

“Ivan made a call.”

“To whom?” Becca asked.

“I have to assume to a disposable phone. I couldn’t find it listed anywhere.”

“What did he say?” Becca stepped toward Geek.

“It was all in Russian. I recorded it and played it back into translation software.” He hit a button on his keyboard and played the recording. The electronic voice of translation software stated a time, date and address.

“That’s tonight,” Becca said. “That address is somewhere downtown.”

“It’s the address of a grand hotel hosting a fundraising gala with a lot of important political guests, including Oscar Melton, congressmen, the secretary of state and the vice president.”

Becca’s eyes widened. “Guests will be by invitation only. The building will be covered with security.”

“Yes, it will. But there are always ways to get in. Especially if you have someone on the inside.” He grinned and handed her two hotel staff ID badges. “Once you get in, you can go undercover as waitstaff, or change into formal attire and mingle with the guests.”

“Geek, you’re amazing,” Becca said. “I could kiss you.”

Geek’s pale, freckled cheeks reddened. “Well, now. You don’t have to go that far. But if you really want to, I’m not opposed to it.” He winked and returned his attention to the screen, without collecting on that kiss.

Becca leaned over and pecked him on the cheek. “Thank you. I don’t know what any of us would do without you hacking into databases.”

He shrugged. “That’s nothing compared to you agents out in the field. You’re lucky
you
weren’t shot last night. It’s bad enough Royce took a hit. I keep telling myself it could have been worse.” He shook his head. “I can’t imagine this agency without the old man in charge.”

Becca sobered. Royce was the glue that held the group together. He was the mastermind they all turned to for direction. “He has to stop taking the risks he does.”

Geek snorted. “Royce would never ask any of us to do something he wouldn’t do himself.”

“As he proved again last night,” Becca muttered. “Okay. Let us know if anything comes up. Otherwise, we’re headed for my apartment for sleep and then to do some shopping for our event tonight.”

“I’ll work on obtaining the work uniforms for the delivery personnel. In the meantime, the company car will take you to your apartment.”

“Perfect.” Becca felt as though some of the pieces were falling into place. She and Quentin left the building and climbed into the back of the chauffeur-driven company limousine.

“I have a few questions for Oscar when we see him tonight.”