Storm Warning (Security Specialists International Book 4) (32 page)

DJ wasn’t insulted. It was the best use of resources. Plus, once Ace was freed and had a weapon, they could help Crocker, if needed.

“Let’s go,” Crocker said.

They flowed down the tunnel and then into larger cave. DJ shot her man in the head before he could even react. The crack of her shot echoed off the rock walls. Crocker engaged O’Riley several feet away from Ace.

His gaze on Crocker and O’Riley, Ace grinned with what looked to be holy glee and then turned his head, looking for her. He took in her appearance, frowned, and struggled against his bonds. “Any of that blood yours?”

“Nope.” All DJ’s distress and fear for him vanished. He was alive, and his first concern had been for her. God, she loved this man.

As she ran toward him, she quickly categorized his external damage. Black eye. Bruised jaw. No other noticeable external injuries. When she reached his side and saw his wrists, she added severe lacerations and bruising from trying to get loose from the tight cuffs.

DJ pulled her knife and moved behind him to cut off the wrist cuffs. “Hold on. This is going to hurt.” She pulled his arms away from the chair back and sliced through the bindings.

Ace hissed and moved his arms around to his front. “Fuck. Shit. Fuck.”

DJ growled low in her throat, wanting to hurt O’Riley really badly. It was probably a good idea that Crocker was handling the fucker. Massaging Ace’s shoulders and neck, she glanced at the fighting men.

O’Riley appeared harried and out of breath as he stumbled and cursed at Crocker. Crocker made no sound. The Marine was brutally toying with the smaller man, sort of like a large cat playing with its prey.

She turned her attention back to Ace and moved around to his front, going to her knees to cut off the equally tight ankle cuffs. She placed a hand on his thigh, still so angry she wanted to spit, and ordered, “Stay put.” She then massaged his calves to get his circulation going.

“DJ…” She looked up and found Ace’s wolf-blue gaze, filled with love, smiling down at her. “Thanks…”

“He took you. Hurt you. I…” She shook her head. The words were clogged in her throat. Emotions slammed through her. Anger. Relief. Guilt.

“Shh. I’m okay. Really.” He rubbed a gentle finger over the lip she’d bit the hell out of since she’d found him missing. “Let’s get out of here. Got a gun for me?”

“Yeah.” She stood and offered him one of the guards’ Glock. He took it and stood without assistance, then swayed slightly.

“Ace…?” She reached for him.

He waved her off. “I’m okay. Whatever drugs they gave me are still wearing off.” He swept a hand down her back and patted her butt.

“What else hurts?” She scanned him and wished she had x-ray vision.

“Not much … they needed me functional.”

She nodded and turned to look at Crocker. “Stop playing with the man, Sam. We need to bug out.”

Crocker nodded and tossed O’Riley to the ground so hard the thud echoed off the rock walls.

“Where’s Conn?” Ace asked as he put on the headset she thrust at him.

They gave a wide berth to Crocker as he restrained O’Riley. She was happy to see Crocker pulled the flex-cuffs really tight.

“He’s on his way. I sent the SOS as soon as I’d taken care of Salazar. Dawn went to get Sam, while I followed your tracker’s signal. Dawn’s covering our asses and listening in.”

As she leaned over to kiss Ace’s un-bruised jaw, a click came over DJ’s headset. “What is it, Dawn?”

“That Conn guy is outside the main cave entrance. Tell Crock-of-shit to hurry it the fuck up. I could’ve had O’Riley knocked out and trussed up like my great-gran’s corset by now. I need to get my team in here to secure the contraband. Plus, I want to start to work on that data Walsh mined from Oraio’s system.”

“Roger that.” She turned to look at Crocker. “Dawn…”

“I heard what Little Bit said. Girl needs to learn to chill.” Crocker picked up the unconscious Irishman in a fireman’s carry. “You okay, Walsh?” He looked Ace over with a keen eye. “Need any medical attention before we bug out?”

“I’m good.” Moving with what looked to be his normal masculine grace, Ace picked up an extra assault rifle leaning against the wall and palmed some stuff off a small side table and slipped it into his pocket. “Let’s go. I need a beer.” He came to DJ’s side and placed a hand on her lower back. “My computer?”

“Dawn pulled your and her hard drives. She has them.” DJ rubbed her cheek on his arm. Happiness at being with him, knowing he was okay, helped keep the post-adrenaline drop from knocking her on her butt. “I sort of promised you’d share the results of your hacking with her.”

He nodded. “Least I can do for her taking your back.”

When they entered the drug operations cave, Dawn looked relieved to see them—and her appearance was slightly less Goth. She’d brushed her hair back and gathered it into a high ponytail, exposing her elegant bone structure. Somehow, she’d wiped off the makeup that had begun to streak and melt in the heat and humidity. Her fine-grained, porcelain skin glowed in the light and her green eyes looked brighter.

Crocker’s sharp inhalation from behind DJ had her smiling.

Yeah, she’s very pretty, isn’t she, Sam?

“Jesus, Little Bit, you clean up nice,” Crocker drawled, his Southern accent exaggerated by some strong emotion.

“Shut it, Crock-of-shit.” Dawn’s tone was crisp and clipped. “I don’t have the time nor the inclination to listen to your bloody nonsense.” As she talked, she moved into the tunnel leading to the cave’s main entrance. “Someone’s trying to bollocks up my jamming. I’ve managed to keep them blocked, but we need to leave, or we’ll all end up on Oraio’s version of CCTV.”

DJ and the others followed. Ace leaned over and muttered, “Little Bit. Crock-of-shit?”

She snickered and covered her microphone. “I think they like each other.”

Dawn opened the door to the outside and peeked out. She brought up her weapon. “Describe Conn.”

“Tall. Blond shaggy hair,” DJ said as she and Ace hurried to the entry. She looked out and found Conn standing not too far from where she’d left the bodies of the guards. He had his hands up and a big shit-eating grin on his face. “It’s Conn.”

Dawn lowered her gun and exited into the small clearing near the cave entrance. “Righto.” She aimed a smile at Conn. “Sorry. Reflexes.”

“No problem. Good ones to have.” Conn winked at Dawn, then looked past her toward DJ and Ace. “You okay, Tweeter? Area’s secure for the moment if we need to do a med check.” He looked at Dawn, Crocker, and DJ. “Whoever took down the Albatross and the other two ugly customers did damn good work.”

“That would’ve been DJ,” Crocker said, saluting her. “Couldn’t have done better myself.”

Ace stared at her and whispered, “You okay, sugar?”

DJ looked at him. He winced. He probably could read her horror over having to kill lurking in her eyes … read her lingering distress over his safety. “I can’t talk about it now.”

“Later then,” he whispered.

She nodded. Yes, later, she’d tell him all. He would hold her in his arms, with her head on his chest, the beat of his heart pounding in her ears, and his warmth surrounding her.

Ace addressed Conn, “As I told Crocker, I’m fine. Nothing a drink and TLC from DJ won’t fix. Where’s the chopper?”

And just that quickly, attention was deflected away from her. Yes, she loved Ace very, very much.

“One klick straight west of here in a fallow field,” replied Conn as he turned and led the way.

“Damn, I really wanted to fly that Apache,” teased DJ, in an attempt at lightening the mood.

Ace shot her an ornery grin. “Me, too. We’ll have to visit Dad, and he can get us some air time in one.”

Her arm intertwined with his, DJ rubbed her cheek against Ace’s shoulder and inhaled deeply, allowing his scent to seep into her soul and calm her even more. “Sounds like a plan.”

“Conn,” Ace called out. “What should we expect between here and the chopper?”

“Area’s clear of bogies. Terrain’s too rough to patrol. Didn’t see any lookouts.” Conn spoke over his shoulder. “Looks like they might use the field for landing small planes. But didn’t see any signs of recent activity.”

What kind of candy-assed soldier was she? The danger wasn’t over yet just because they’d freed Ace.

DJ stiffened, then looked around and sensed … nothing. Nothing but the jungle and its normal inhabitants. They were safe, but, damn, she needed to stay alert in case that changed.

Proving yet again her man could read her, Ace leaned over and murmured, “It’s okay to relax. Let me be on alert now. You’ve carried more than your share of the team load today.”

“But…” Ace cut off her protest with a quick, hard kiss.

Let your man worry, Dahlia Jane. He needs to care for you now.

“Probably where they fly the drugs out of.” Dawn added her two cents to the conversation that had continued among the Interpol agent, Conn, and Crocker.

“Drugs?” Conn asked.

“Yeah, cocaine.” Dawn carried her rifle as if it were a familiar accessory. “Interpol will be swooping in as soon as I can borrow a secure line.”

“Interpol? Bloody fecking hell.” O’Riley cursed and tried to wiggle his way off Crocker’s shoulder.

“Wanna get dropped on your head, you pecker-headed douchebag?” growled Crocker.

DJ loved Marines and their blunt way with words.

Ace released her arm and moved forward. He pulled out of his pocket whatever he’d picked up in the cave. “Let me take care of the ass-clown. Hope this gives him as much of a bitching headache as it gave me.” He injected the Irishman with something from a syringe, which Ace capped and then slid back into his pocket. “You okay carrying dead weight for a klick?”

“Don’t insult me, Walsh.” Crocker juggled the now-limp man into a slightly different position and began striding forward again. “I’ve carried packs heavier than him for ten times that distance.”

Dawn muttered, “Bleeding fucking giant, he is.” Her gaze fixed on Crocker’s ass.

“I heard that, Little Bit, and stop looking at my ass.” Crocker aimed a sideways glance at Ace. “What the fuck did you give him? He went out like a light.”

“Whatever he gave me.” Ace shrugged. “I’m betting ketamine. I have an effin’ headache.”

“No beer for you.” DJ put her arm around his waist to give him support just in case he needed it—and because she wanted to touch him.

“I’m getting a damn beer.” He sounded so grumpy … and cute. “The adrenaline has flushed most of whatever it was out of my system.” As they followed Conn and Crocker with Dawn bringing up the rear, Ace leaned over and whispered into her ear. “And you’re gonna be a card-carrying member of the mile-high club as soon as I get cleaned up after we’re in the air.”

DJ’s face turned red. The heat spread to the rest of her at the speed of light and pooled in her pussy. She needed to lie with him and make love as much as she needed to breathe, but—

“Ace, we need to get you checked over medically, make sure you’re okay.” DJ would’ve liked to strip him in the cave to search for other injuries, but they’d needed to get out of there and away from the area surrounding the resort.

“I’m not injured, sugar. But if you want to do all the work, I’m down with that. One way or another, we’re making love on that plane.”

The fierce determination in his voice, the hunger in his eyes, convinced her sex was going to happen no matter what she said. So, she answered, “I can do that.”

And with him naked and under her, she could kill two birds with one stone: making love to him and checking him out for injuries. One thing DJ was excellent at was multi-tasking.

February 26
th
, early morning, en route to Idaho

The SSI jet had been fueled and waiting on them when Conn had landed the helicopter at the international airport outside of Belize City. Price had flown the jet to Belize yesterday evening and had remained on stand-by to fly them out at the completion of the mission. Currently, Price flew the plane so Tweeter could have some down-time with DJ. They both needed it after the rough ending to their mission.

After taking a shower on the jet, getting his cuts and bruises tended to by DJ, and inhaling a beer and a roast beef sandwich, Tweeter relaxed into the leather love seat with another beer in hand. DJ was snuggled closely against his side, her head on his shoulder.

A feeling of satisfaction for a successful mission settled over him. The NSA now had a road map into Oraio’s closed network and a list of IP addresses for his trusted parties in the DarkNet. Rossi and Salazar were dead. When they made the scheduled stop for fuel in Dallas, O’Riley would be turned over to operatives from the DIA for interrogation. DJ had managed to take pictures of all the hackers auditioning for the position of Oraio’s go-to hacker for NSA’s further investigation. Most importantly, no one on the SSI team had been severely injured.

While Tweeter’s short period as a captive hadn’t been fun, it hadn’t been traumatic. He’d never doubted DJ would mount an immediate rescue. He was proud to have her as a teammate and even happier that she was his lover and soon-to-be his wife.

“Will we see Conn again?” DJ massaged his chest through the t-shirt he’d thrown on after cleaning up.

After flying them to the Belize City airport, Conn had hopped a commercial flight to Cartagena.

“Probably,” Tweeter said. “Lately, we’ve used Conn quite a bit for intel gathering. Unfortunately, Central and South America are evolving into hot beds for international terrorism on top of the already prevalent drug trafficking.”

Tweeter kissed the top of DJ’s head, her hair smelling of the citrus-scented shampoo stocked on the jet. The shower gel was also scented with citrus; the fragrance mixed with her own unique musk made him want to eat her up. Soon, he’d take her to the jet’s bedroom and do that very thing. Right now, he had the sense she wanted to talk.

“Well, I liked him.” She cuddled closer and brushed a feather-like kiss over his bruised jaw. “I also liked Dawn. She’d be a great addition to SSI. I think Ren should approach her about a job.”

He was happy to hear DJ was on the same page about the feisty little Brit. They could approach Ren together about making Dawn an offer. She might not take it, but they wouldn’t know unless they tried.

Dawn had met her Interpol team as soon as the chopper had touched down. The little Brit then hopped right back onto another helicopter to fly back to the
Gato Grande
resort to take down the drug operation and confiscate the weapons and anything else she could claim was used in the drug trafficking operation. The Belizean government was also sending troops to secure the resort, which would most likely be seized as an asset of a criminal enterprise.

“Did you happen to see where Crocker went?” Tweeter tipped her face to his.

Crocker had disappeared before Tweeter could propose the possibility of him doing contract work with Conn for SSI in Central and South America. There was no use going to Ren and making an argument for such a working relationship if Crocker wasn’t even interested. Tweeter was positive Ren and Vanko would eventually get over Crocker’s role in the threats to Keely and Elana once Crocker’s undercover status was made clear.

“I think Sam followed Dawn back to the resort.” DJ grinned. “Did you see her slap him across the face after he said something to her right before she met up with her team?”

Tweeter raised an eyebrow. “No. Missed that. I was too busy making sure Price sneaked O’Riley aboard the jet before the Belizean government swept in. It was nice of Dawn to tell the locals we were assisting Interpol with their Drug Task Force op.” The little Brit’s explanation kept things legal under international law and kept SSI’s role in the matter low key.

“Dawn thinks well on her feet,” DJ said.

“I agree. That’s why I’d already planned on mentioning her to Ren.” DJ smiled at him and he kissed the tip of her nose. “Did you happen to hear what Crocker said to earn a slap?”

“Part of it. I can guess the rest.” DJ rubbed her hand over his thigh covered only by a much-washed pair of sweat pants. She then trailed her fingers up his thigh, took a sharp turn at the junction with his hip, then covered his erection, which she gently squeezed.

Tweeter inhaled sharply at the pleasure. “Sugar, you’re surely tempting the beast.”

His semi-erection had become full-blown as soon as she’d joined him in the very small shower stall to check over the damage to his body. She’d refused to believe him or Price when they’d told her he was fighting fit. His hard-on hadn’t flagged since. Only one thing would make it go away, and he wasn’t even sure climaxing would solve the problem for long. He was fairly certain he could spend the next two days making love to DJ and still not assuage his need for her.

“I know.” She winked. “You and Price were one hundred percent correct. You’re definitely up to the sort of physical activity I have in mind.” She fondled his bulge before pulling her hand away.

He loved that DJ had grown more comfortable with lovemaking and could even tease him about their sex play. Considering her past trauma, she’d come a long way in the weeks he’d known her. He was a very lucky man to have earned her trust and her love.

“Now, finish your beer. That big old bed will wait a bit.” She rubbed her cheek against his arm.

While DJ seemed relaxed, it was obvious she was still decompressing … still dealing with their mission and what actions she’d taken to rescue him. Before Dawn had left with her team, she’d taken a few minutes to pull him aside and tell him exactly how DJ had taken out Salazar, Rossi, and three others with knives. He’d seen her shoot one of his captors.

The knowledge that DJ had been forced to make six up-close kills threatened to take him to his knees. With immense courage and steely determination, his warrior-woman had done what needed to be done in order to free him and preserve their mission. No one with a solid core of morality, male or female, could brush aside taking that many lives easily. There was always a mental and emotional cost.

So, if she needed more downtime to cuddle, tease, and process, then she’d get it. Whatever the aftermath this mission might bring, be it nightmares or delayed PTSD, he’d be there to share it with her. His dick could damn well wait until DJ signaled she was ready to make love with him—however long that might take.

“Back to Crocker and Dawn. What did you overhear?” Tweeter raised the beer to his mouth and took a sip.

Whatever she’d heard set her to giggling like a teenage girl. Tweeter smiled and shook his head as DJ smothered her laughter against his chest.

“The part … I heard…” She snicker-snorted until tears leaked from the corner of her eyes. “…was Sam … saying s-s-something about Dawn having his b-b-babies.” DJ turned her face into his chest again, clutching at his shirt, and giggled even harder.

Tweeter choked on his sip of beer, then coughed.

DJ sat up, eyes and mouth smiling, and helpfully patted him on his back. “Went down the wrong pipe?”

“Yeah. Sugar, you can stop beating on me.” Tweeter put his arm around her and pulled her back into the curve of his body. “I’m shocked she only slapped him.”

“It had some power behind it, too.” DJ smoothed a finger over Tweeter’s cheekbone, then swept over to his ear, tracing it, then back to his cheek. If he’d been a cat, he’d have purred. “Sam had a nice red splotch right about here.” She tapped his cheek and then shifted the finger to trace along his jaw. “I think … she sort of likes him … in a love-hate sort of way.”

DJ moved her hand from his face and trailed it down his chest over his stomach to his thigh, resting it really close to his throbbing cock. Distracted, she began to knead his leg. “It’s also why I concluded Sam was heading back to the resort. I think he wanted to back her up—or get her phone number.”

Hell. She was going to kill him, petting him that way. He gritted his teeth and reined in his need. She needed to talk … to relax.

“Ace…”

He almost swore out loud when she stilled her hand right over the erection tenting his sweat pants.

“…maybe now that we know Sam’s a good guy—”

“Sort of good guy.” Tweeter inhaled sharply as she swept a thumb over the top of his cock … once … twice … then stopped. He’d survived O’Riley’s not-so-tender treatment, but this sweet torture might drive him over the edge into insanity. He wanted to be inside her right the fuck now, but she had to make the move.

“What do you mean sort of a good guy?” she asked. “He’s working for our side.”

“Yes, but the CIA is his employer, and so Crocker’s often forced to do bad things, even if they’re for the right reasons. His wings are tarnished.”

“Like an archangel?” DJ arched a brow as she began to fondle his cock once more. “I believe Ren and Vanko will get over their issues … eventually.”

Which again affirmed how much he and DJ thought alike.

“Elana and Keely won’t hold a grudge once they realize Sam was doing his job and they were in no real danger from him,” she said. “Plus, I’m betting Keely already knows all about his undercover missions.”

Tweeter forced himself to hold onto his bottle of beer and fought the urge to grab DJ, throw her to the floor of the main cabin, and make love to her right then and there.

“Probably,” he replied, his voice husky from his extreme arousal. “When we present our post-mission report, we can recommend using Crocker as a contract employee and suggest that he live and work in Colombia with Conn. Conn, I know, would be more than happy to have him. Marines stick together.”

“Can we make a recommendation about Dawn in this report?”

DJ’s cheeks were flushed. Her eyes dilated with her own simmering arousal. Thank fuck, she wanted him, too. All he needed was a word or a gesture that said she was ready to go to bed and make love.

“Yeah.” As Tweeter thought about what DJ had told him about the couple, he frowned. “We’ll just have to keep her away from Crocker so she doesn’t emasculate him.”

“Darlin’, you obviously weren’t paying attention to the sizzling emotions between those two. Of course, I saw them interact more than you did.”

DJ untied the drawstring on his sweats and freed his cock—
Finally!
— and began to handle him exactly the way he liked with long, firm pulls and a twist over the top.

“After she slapped him…” DJ smoothed the precum over his glans before resuming her stroking. “…Dawn stood in the open cabin door of Interpol’s helicopter and followed Sam with her eyes until he disappeared into the terminal building. She wasn’t staring daggers at him, either.”

“How was she looking at him?” Tweeter hated to do it, but he stilled her hand on his cock. If she kept petting him, he’d come before she ever took him inside her body. And this first time, he needed to be surrounded by her tight, hot channel … needed the bonding the intimate connection provided.

“As if Sam was an all-you-can-eat buffet and she was starving.” DJ ended her sentence by pulling her hand out from under his and sliding it under his tee to torment his nipples.

“Sugar,” he drawled, “you’ve let the beast out now, for sure.”

“That was the plan.” She looked at him from under her lashes, a naughty grin on her lush, pink lips. “If you recall, I promised I’d do all the work.” She moved her hand down his torso and back to his cock and squeezed the base of his shaft. His cock leaked a drop, then another of precum. “I always keep my promises.”

Tweeter set aside his all-but-forgotten beer and then slid his hand inside the opening of the terry cloth robe DJ had put on after their shower. She was completely naked underneath. He sought and tweaked an already pebbled nipple, then cuddled the plush breast in his hand.

“That feels so good. More.” She lay her head on his shoulder and pressed nibbling kisses along his tense neck muscles. She resumed fisting his cock and finished each up-stroke by skimming her thumb lightly across the tip.

“More?” he murmured huskily. “Something like this?” He shoved open the front of the robe and then bent her back over his supporting arm so he could take a rosy bud into his mouth. Suckling the nubbin, he massaged her breast.

DJ let out a low moan. “Yes-s-s … so good.”

After a minute or so of his brand of breast worship, DJ shoved at his chest. Tweeter immediately stopped, worried he’d moved too fast.

That thought was instantly proven erroneous when she pulled his t-shirt up. Even before he helped pull it over his head, DJ was brushing light kisses over his chest while combing her fingers through his chest hair. He sucked in a breath, then hissed with pleasure at the sensations gliding over his skin, down his spine, and coalescing in his already hard-to-the-point-of-pain cock.

“I love you, Ace. I’m so happy you’re safe…” Her breath hitched slightly. The emotion in her voice pierced him like a sword. His capture had affected her more than he’d realized. “…and here with me now.”

He caressed the back of her head as she dusted kisses over his chest, his nipples, and then down onto his abs. “I love you, Dahlia Jane. I never doubted, not for one single second, that you’d come for me.”

DJ paused in her kissing exploration and looked up, a fierceness coupled with joy in her eyes. “There’ll never be a time when I don’t come after you.” She bit one of his nipples lightly. Her lips twisted into a naughty grin, she said, “Since I get to do all the work, does that mean I get to be on top?”

His cock jerked and leaked at the thought of her above him, her breasts bouncing, as she rode him for her pleasure—and his.

“Oh hell yeah.” Tweeter lifted her face to his and nibbled at her lips. The light kiss meant to be an appetizer became more of a feast as it soon turned hot and heavy.