Renegade (Elite Ops 5) (3 page)

"You owed me results, Eddie," Maddix snarled, his lips pulling back from Eddie's lips in anger.

Mikayla watched in suspended disbelief as Eddie stepped back, though there was

no way to escape. A thick steel beam met his back. There was only one way to go, and Maddix Nelson had that way blocked.

She had to do something. What could she do?

Mikayla could feel her chest tightening in fear, in total and complete disbelief, as 14

Maddix took a step closer.

Mikayla backed to the Jeep, gripped the door, and scrambled inside. She had to

give Eddie a chance. There was no one else around.

She had to do something.

"Don't do this, man!" Eddie cried out.

Mikayla laid on the horn, praying. . . .

She screamed at the sharp retort of gunfire. Throwing the Jeep into gear, she

screamed again, hysteria threatening to overtake her as Eddie fell five stories to the rough ground below, obviously dead.

He fell faceup, his eyes wide, staring blankly as Mikayla hit the gas. She heard the bullets hit the driver's side door. One tore through, cracking the hard plastic of the gearbox, sending shards of sharp plastic flying.

Ducking over the steering wheel, she raced from the job site. Mikayla's hands

shook as she tore at the cell phone at her side. Pulling it free, she hurriedly hit the programmed speed dial as sobs tore from her chest.

"Hey, Miki, Scotty called--" Her father's voice came over the line.

"Oh, my God! Oh, my God! Daddy, he killed him! He killed him! I saw it. I saw it all!"

Heavy sobs shook her body as she raced off the rough dirt road onto the interstate and raced for home, for her parents.

"Miki, settle down." Her father's voice tightened, firmed, and became

commanding. "Are you driving, Miki?"

"Oh, God, Dad, he shot at me," she cried out as she checked the rearview mirror, her body shuddering so hard she was surprised she could keep the Jeep on the road. "It was Maddix Nelson, Dad. I saw him."

"Miki, where are you?"

"I was supposed to pick up Scotty." Then a horrible thought pierced her mind.

"Where's Scotty, Dad? Where is he?"

"Miki, settle down," he snapped then.

The sound of his voice, commanding, reminding her of her childhood years, when

she knew when her father was at his most serious. He was at his most serious now.

"Now, listen to me. I'm getting in the truck, honey. Me and Mom are coming. Tell me where you are right now. We'll meet you."

She hurriedly gave him her location.

"Keep heading toward us, honey," he ordered. "Keep talking to me. We're on our way."

"Where's Scotty?" she sobbed. "Was he there?"

Oh, God, her brother couldn't be dead. She couldn't bear the thought of it.

"Scott called me earlier, Miki," her father promised her. "He got a ride. His phone died while he was talking to me and he couldn't reach you. Scotty's fine. Now concentrate on driving. I'm almost there. When you see me, just pull over."

She could hear her mother in the background, her tone calm but the concern in it

heavy.

She was safe. She would be safe. Her father wouldn't let anyone hurt her.

She was amazed that she wasn't pulled over. They would surely think she was

intoxicated if they had. Panic was pulling at the edges of her mind, and Mikayla never 15

panicked. She had been raised with three younger brothers. Three younger brothers

would make a girl crazy if they had half a chance. Mikayla had never given her brothers a chance.

But her chest was so tight she could barely breathe. Tears filled her eyes and

blurred her vision. She felt as though she were in a nightmare she couldn't wake up from.

"He killed him," she whispered again.

"Keep it in your mind, Mikayla Ann. Remember it until we get to you and get you to the police." Her father's voice firmed again, the use of her first and middle names snapping her out of the hysteria threatening to overtake her again. "Where are you, honey?"

She quickly gave him her location once again.

"Pull over at the gas station just ahead of you," he told her. "We're coming up on it now."

"I see it. I see it." She was crying harder.

She couldn't believe it. Eddie Foreman's face kept flashing before her eyes, his

eyes unseeing, the blood soaking his chest, his body bent and broken.

"Mikayla, pull over!" her father snapped.

Mikayla shook her head, blinked, and with a hard twist of the steering wheel

whipped into the gas station. The Jeep tilted at the hard turn, rocked, then righted itself before she pushed it into park and threw the door open.

She fell out of the Jeep as her father and two of her brothers raced from the two

pickups they had arrived in. Behind them were two state police officers she hadn't expected--officers her father or brothers had obviously called. Mikayla ran to her father's arms, desperate; she felt his arms close around her.

She was safe, she told herself. Her father and the police would take care of

everything.

Maddix Nelson wouldn't kill anyone else.

16

Chapter 1

Four weeks later

Nikolai Steele pulled the wicked black Harley into a vacant parking spot on

Washington Street, let the engine throb for several seconds, then turned the bike off slowly, ignoring the curious looks of several women walking past him on the sidewalk as he stared across the street at the office front of Nelson Building and Construction.

Sometimes, past favors sucked. This was one of them. He owed Nelson for some

rather important information the man had provided several months prior. Nik almost shook his head. That IOU was now about to become a pain in the ass.

"I'm here." He spoke quietly into the comm link built into his helmet.

"Carry the helmet in with you, Renegade. Leave the comm on so I can pick up the conversation and see what he wants." Tehya Talamosi, the red-haired sprite working communications, spoke quietly into the link.

He nearly rolled his eyes at the new code name. Unlike the others, his code name

had changed several times over the years to reflect the differing areas of the missions assigned. For this more personal job "Renegade" reflected the fact that this time, he was working alone.

His initial meeting with Nelson would be overseen by his commander, Jordan

Malone, until it was ascertained whether or not this was indeed a personal contact or if it was something more. Something that could possibly risk the Elite Ops unit or Nik's cover.

Pulling the key from the ignition, Nik swung from the bike and slowly pulled the

helmet from his head, careful to leave the sensitive electronics inside active.

He had no idea what Nelson wanted; all he knew was that he had contacted Nik in

a manner in which he shouldn't have been able to contact him. It's what had put Jordan on alert, and it left a hell of a lot of questions for the man to answer.

Holding on to the helmet, Nik waited for a break in traffic before strolling across the street. At six and a half feet it was impossible not to draw attention to himself. Add that to his well-conditioned body, long white blond hair, and what he knew were his unusually strong Nordic features and Nik was impossible to hide in plain sight.

This was why he preferred the shadows. Nik had the ability to blend into those

shadows, to watch, to wait, and to garner the least amount of attention possible.

The shadows were safer. There he wasn't forced to interact with others. He didn't

have to risk friendships, loyalties, or possibly the drive to fill the unnamed hunger that plagued his soul.

Stepping onto the sidewalk, he was aware of the pedestrians who cleared a path

around him. They watched him with wary curiosity, sensing instinctively that this was a dangerous man.

Nik stepped inside the offices of Nelson Building and Construction and walked up

to the receptionist's desk.

"Maddix Nelson." Nik's voice, normally dark and rough, sounded more dangerous 17

as he stood over the petite young receptionist.

She swallowed tightly as her brown eyes widened, youth still fresh enough that

she felt no fascination for the monster staring down at her. She felt only that inherent fear, that need to run.

"M-m-may I ask--"

"Steele." He gave only his last name. The name and identity he had been given eight years before.

She jerked the phone from its cradle, punched in a number with a jerky

movement, and stuttered his name into the phone.

"Mr. Steele, Mr. Nelson's assistant will be right here." She laid the phone on the cradle as she glanced desperately at the small seating area off to the right. "It will be just a moment."

Nik had mercy on her. He stepped back from the receptionist's station, but he

didn't sit. He moved to the edge of the lobby, placed his back against the wall, and waited.

He didn't have to wait long.

Maddix Nelson's assistant, Alison Chenkins, moved down the staircase that led to

the upper floors rather than using the elevator. Dressed in slim black slacks and a white tailored blouse, with low heels, she gave the impression, a correct one, of quiet efficiency and confidence.

"Mr. Steele." She moved right to him, a slender hand reaching out in greeting.

"Thank you for coming so promptly."

Nik's brow arched sarcastically as he accepted the handshake, careful not to pinch her hand in his much larger one.

"We can use the elevator or the stairs," she offered. "Mr. Nelson is in his office."

"Stairs are fine with me."

"Excellent." A friendly smile tugged at her lips as she turned and moved for the staircase. "If you'll follow me."

He followed, keeping a careful distance between himself and the assistant, his

gaze constantly searching his surroundings.

Nik hadn't expected Nelson's favor to be called so quickly. Nor had Nik expected

the message to come through a contact whom only a few people were aware of.

"I always take the stairs whenever possible." Alison Chenkins grinned back at Nik as they moved past the second floor. "The elevator is quicker, but the stairs are better for my hips."

"And give Maddix Nelson time to prepare himself," Nik stated quietly.

She almost paused on the steps before her smile turned cooler and the chatter

stopped. She turned, and her pace quickened until they were pushing through the fourth-floor door and moving into the plush assistant's office outside Maddix Nelson's office.

Maddix didn't make Nik wait. He was standing in the door to his office, his dark

hair brushed back, but not as neatly as Nik remembered it being before. There were added lines on Maddix's face, his brow creased with worry. Six weeks had wrought an almost devastating change to the man's face.

"Nik, thank you for coming." Maddix invited Nik into his office with a wave of his hand.

Nik glanced into the office, then to Maddix in a signal that the other man was to

18

go first.

The other man gave a mirthless smile before stepping into the office.

Nik stepped inside as he tucked the motorcycle helmet under his arm to provide

Tehya with clearer audio and visual coverage of the room.

"You contacted me through an unusual source, Mr. Nelson," Nik stated as he moved to the side of the room, putting the wall at his back. "Care to tell me why?"

Maddix ran his fingers through his hair, and it was obviously not the first time.

"I tried to reach you through Lilly Harrington and her fiance, Travis Caine, but they were out of the country and unavailable," Maddix stated quietly. "That only left the few contacts that I could find of Caine's to get a message to you."

Nik arched his brow again, remained silent, and waited. Maddix ran his hands

over his face before sitting in the large chair behind his desk. His suit jacket lay over the back of the chair, and his shirtsleeves were rolled up haphazardly. The shirt was

wrinkled, as were the slacks he wore. He looked like a man under pressure.

"It took a while," Maddix finally sighed. "I finally learned Caine was in Aspen last year and possibly knew Bailey Serborne Vincent. I contacted her husband, John Vincent, and looked into the possibility that he could help me contact you."

Nik leaned back in his chair then and watched Maddix silently for long moments.

So that was how Maddix had known to contact John Vincent, code-named Heat Seeker,

an undercover agent with the agency Nik worked in as well.

Maddix's knowledge of John had caused an edge of concern when Maddix had

contacted Nik.

"How did you learn Travis was in Aspen?" Nik asked.

"Raymond Greer," Maddix answered. "I knew his wife, Mary, when we were younger. They were in D.C. several weeks ago, when Mary mentioned Bailey's marriage to John Vincent and John's friend Travis Caine standing as best man in the wedding."

How small the world was becoming, Nik thought.

"So, who do you need to rid yourself of?" Nik asked.

Nik's reputation had been created long before he had taken the identity. Nik Steele had been an assassin and thief, willing to take almost any job.

Maddix's expression reflected disbelief for several seconds. "No, you

misunderstand, Nik. I don't want to get rid of someone. I want to find out why someone wants to get rid of me. Have you heard about the murder that took place at my building site outside of town?"

Nik narrowed his eyes. "A bit."

Tehya's information on it was as thorough and in depth as only Tehya could make

it. He knew about every piece of evidence collected, the entire depth of the investigation, and the fact that Maddix was seen committing the murder at the time that he had an airtight alibi.

Maddix gave a mocking laugh, a bitter, angry sound.

"I can't understand it. I know that girl. I know her family. Her father worked for me, her cousins. Her brothers." He shook his head wearily. "She seemed like such a good girl, Steele. Mikayla Martin has never seemed like a psycho before, so what the hell happened?"