The Protector (12 page)

She looked around at the group of men. They were all watching closely, studying her response to their leaders’ drilling.

“You must understand too, Vivi, that SEALs don’t operate with the same rules. We don’t trust everything around us, no
matter how ‘safe’ the setup looks.” Hawk pointed to the electronic eye with its blinking red light. “There is no observing camera looking on in our world. We don’t appreciate being watched and we tend to eliminate things we don’t appreciate.”

Vivi allowed the tension to stretch as she made eye contact with each of the men. She was quite ready for this. “Displeasure noted, but it isn’t my job to make sure I or my men tiptoe around your rules. If I don’t push it before our joint mission, how would I know what my limits are? Talk is cheap around here. I prefer to observe the action.” She slowly strode past the men toward the front of the room. “I had confidence in your men’s ability to judge a war game being played, Lieutenants. No one was injured. Now I ask the same from you all, that you have some confidence in my abilities. I know”—she paused, turned and faced them, the entire front—“when to let men be men and when to bend the rules a little.”

She broke into a smile, leaning a hip on the long table in front of the room. “Besides, now that we’ve gotten my men’s curiosity out of the way, we can start work. Ready?”

They appeared to accept her explanation, although it was difficult to tell with Hawk and Jazz. The two of them had exchanged one of those baffling glances. Hawk gave a small nod and the men moved around the room, taking their places.

Her other problem, Lieutenant Jazz Zeringue, didn’t seem so understanding. “I would still like to know your reason for giving your men permission to test my team,” he said, his expression serious. “First, it doesn’t strike confidence in my men and they will be suspicious of a possible ambush in future exercises. Second, it brings up the question as to the need for our team at all, when there are obviously enough hands out there to perform this mission.”

Vivi had asked the same question. With T. in the picture, she knew this wasn’t a standard operation, and her chief wasn’t about to tell her everything. The few times she had
been in operations that involved T., she had learned that there were always side deals going on, that nothing was ever as it seemed. But she couldn’t tell these men that, could she? They were plenty nervous enough. She could just imagine what they would say if they found out that yet another female operative might be involved. Trust the strategist among them to catch the little details, she noted ruefully.

“Good points, Lieutenant,” she said, giving a shrug. “Call it healthy male competitiveness.”

“In other words, you aren’t going to tell.”

Why was Jazz deliberately baiting her? She wondered at this prickly side of him. She canted a brow and shrugged again. When cornered, use NOPAIN. “It won’t happen again. As for needing your services, I’ve been told that SEALs are the best at extraction in unique circumstances. Blowing up a bridge is, of course, not much of a challenge, and sure, my men can do this, but I’m merely following instructions. According to my agency, the admiral’s STAR Force SEALs excel in this kind of work, where precision is involved. I cannot afford to have that truckload of girls killed by mistake.” Her voice hardened at the thought, and she added, lowering her voice to get their attention. “The men outside aren’t trained for that and I can’t use Interpol operatives. Your team is here to help me out.”

NOPAIN was as simple as it sounded—non-physical and innovative negotiation. Yet it was more complicated than blowing up bridges. She bit back a grin as she looked into Jazz’s suspicious eyes. What were they going to do—argue against their own expertise?

She took advantage of the silence and switched on the screen behind her. She had prepared a photo of Dilaver’s three-vehicle convoy taken by satellite. Immediately, the men’s attention turned away from her. NOPAIN one, SEALs zero.

“A quick run-through. At the speed of travel, the hostiles should be at target point in roughly sixty hours. However, it’s been raining, and we have to prepare for delays. You will
have to tell me the time the team needs to set up the bridge. The weather will be the main factor.”

Hawk spoke up. “Mud,” he said. Vivi waited, but he didn’t seem to think further explanation was needed.

She nodded in agreement. “Their drivers’ experience with muddy terrain comes into question, especially as they get closer to the bridge. The river is overflowing, and there are some soft spots that will slow them down. My men have already made sure the trail on the other side of the bridge will be muddier than usual.” She clicked the switch again, and the photo zoomed larger. “The first vehicle will have Dilaver. He will cross first. The second one is the extraction target—the girls are in there. You can tell by the larger back portion of the truck with its sealed bolts. The last one is the guards. We’ve been watching them. Sometimes they switch with Dilaver’s vehicle and they go first, but the target truck is always in the middle.”

“How many women?” Jazz asked very quietly.

“At least a dozen,” Vivi answered just as quietly. “They are very young, probably kidnapped or runaways. They have been either drugged or starved so they will be very weak.”

“Why the need to transport them to the Triads when there are plenty of girls here?”

“Because their business is more than the women,” Vivi said. She kept her voice toneless, keeping her anger under control. “The exchange of women is just a goodwill gesture. Nothing like mixing pleasure with business.”

Cucumber let out a string of insulting expletives, some of which were very painful to the male anatomy. “Yes, I couldn’t agree more,” Vivi continued, “and here is the hard part. We have to separate Dilaver’s vehicle from the other two. The guards are dispensable, but Dilaver must be allowed to escape. Meanwhile, you have to make sure the truck with our girls stays out of harm’s way.”

There was silence as the men in the room digested the new piece of information. She knew they had assumed that Dilaver would be either killed or captured, but that wasn’t in
her orders. She looked at Hawk. He should have similar instructions in his envelope. Obviously he hadn’t shared everything with his men yet. Or with Jazz. They were doing that silent communication thing again.

“We let the bastard go?” Cucumber asked, disgusted. “Why the hell would we want to do that? Get that scum now. Better sooner than later, right?”

“That isn’t the plan,” Hawk confirmed.

“Why the hell not?”

Hawk shrugged. “Orders.”

“I can’t believe Mad Dog wants scum like Dilaver alive,” Dirk said.

“What would happen if he gets killed?” Cucumber asked, playing with the big weapon in front of him. “By mistake, of course.”

Vivi heard the underlying threat. The room buzzed with agreement as the men commented on allowing Dilaver to escape. Soldiers. They were always thinking of a kill. For once she agreed; monsters like Dilaver should be canceled right off the bat. But she had learned from experience that sometimes, to achieve the goal, one had to lose a few battles.

“What would you be doing, Miss Verreau?” Jazz interrupted.

Unlike the others, he hadn’t voiced his opinion about Dilaver. There was something about the way his mind worked that really intrigued her. Everyone went for the obvious, but he kept bringing up the one important thing that she had been trying to get them to ignore. Her presence.

“I’ll be keeping out of your way, of course,” she replied smoothly.

His smile held a hint of disbelief but he didn’t challenge her. She was beginning to understand another thing about Jazz Zeringue. He was too much of a gentleman.

She smiled back sweetly. Nice guys were easier to be manipulated.

Stefan wasn’t a conventional man, but the sight of Alissa and her brother sitting so close together before him left a bad taste in his mouth. He took a long swallow of rice wine. Although he had suspected that Alissa got where she was through sex, it hadn’t occurred to him until now that she would extend her power base in her family with the same method. Being the favorite Triad sister obviously meant more than sibling love.

“My sister must like you very much, Stefan. She doesn’t give out my private number to just anyone.” His French was very good, without the local accent. “In fact, you’re the first.”

Alissa’s brother cut off a piece of apple. The knife glinted sharply in the dim light as the fruit made its way to his mouth. He tapped the corner of his lips with the blade. When Alissa immediately curled up to him to lick the juice off, he placed a lazy arm around her shoulders, curling his fingers into her hair.

Stefan didn’t answer. He knew this man. He was one of the Triad brothers, known for their ruthlessness and power. Unlike Alissa, who had mixed blood, his features were local, with a low, wide forehead; high cheekbones; and small, slanted eyes. There was an angry scar above his wide, thin lips, and it moved whenever he spoke, as if it had a life of its own, reminding those looking that the owner was a violent man.

Right now he appeared to be in a congenial mood. Perhaps the heavy meal of goose and mango rice, with the ever-present filled cup of rice wine, contributed to it. But Stefan was not taking it for granted. He had noticed that the wine had barely any effect on his host as he finished cup after cup, challenging Stefan to match him.

“So tell me, what can a man like you offer me? I have plenty of dealers and information sources. My sister insisted you will be of help, that your information had added to her coffers.” His voice was mocking as he added, “And that you had serviced her well.”

Alissa looked very comfortable next to her brother, bending over to take a bite from his apple. They obviously had a very close relationship, Stefan noted with quiet sarcasm. Alissa might or might not be a half-sibling, but there was no mistaking the intimacy of the two as being more than brother and sister.

“I heard you’re interested in a large shipment of the new drug. I can get that for you,” Stefan said.

“I can get that through my usual channels,” the other man countered in a bored voice, but his eyes were bright with cunning. “Do you have a better price offer? Or perhaps you have no customers because I own everything around here?”

Stefan waited as the two of them laughed heartily. “I normally don’t deal with drugs,” he said after they subsided. “This is a favor for a friend, and Alissa was very happy with the pills. Weren’t you?”

Alissa smiled coyly as she caressed her brother’s hand dangling lazily over her shoulders. “The customers liked the girls who took them,
Yeekohkoh.”

Yeekohkoh
was a Chinese familial term that meant second brother. This man was the middle brother of the trio who called themselves Sam Tai Yeh—Three Big Masters—or as the West knew them, the Triads. The second brother had a reputation for ruthless torture, the one who had expanded the gang’s power base from prostitution and gambling to more international crimes. Such as drugs.

“Mmm-hmm…and I will try a sampling tonight.” He bent his head, pulling Alissa closer for a noisy kiss.

Stefan watched dispassionately as the couple took their time. As a middleman, he had talked to many strange characters, some more powerful than others. This deal was a favor to get to bigger things. He could take a few incestuous kisses to get what he wanted.

“Yes, I understand favors. I also understand business, and Alissa tells me you’re an excellent businessman.” The gangster lazily waved his knife. “Tell me, if I do business with
you, what is this favor from which you will profit? And do I get a cut?”

Stefan smiled slowly. He appreciated intelligence, especially in matters of profit and loss. “I’m an expert in international weapons. All things are negotiable if you’re willing to share”—he eyed Alissa briefly—“favors.”

The knife caressed Alissa’s chin, tipping it up. She stared back at her brother unflinchingly, her lips parted. “I live to please my Alissa,” the man replied softly. “We’re practically family. Won’t you call me
Yeekoh
?”

It wasn’t just a simple invitation. To call the man across the table “second brother” meant being accepted. Stefan didn’t decline the fresh cup of wine from the servant girl. He looked across the table.
“Salute,”
he said, keeping the triumph from his voice.

Vivi looked around the busy restaurant for her
superior. As she had done many times before, T. was testing her. Her gaze swept slowly around the many tables, especially those on the patio. It was almost teatime, and many of the customers were dressed casually, some of the sun-pinked faces shaded by wide-brimmed hats.

Vivi smiled at the hostess. “No, it’s okay, I’m lunching with a friend,” she told her, before walking toward T.

T. looked up from her menu. Her hair was light auburn and pulled back in a chignon. Small stylish glasses perched on her nose, which looked sunburned, as if she had been sitting outside too long the day before. Freckles liberally dotted her cheeks, chest and arms.

“You should really take care of your sensitive skin,” Vivi commented dryly as she sat down. It had been almost impossible to recognize T. She looked exactly as she intended—a holidaying European. “A wide-brimmed hat maybe.”

“Then how would you know it’s me,
chérie
?” T. mocked, sliding the glasses off her nose. Her eyes were a startling green. “You’re out of practice. Took you almost five minutes.”

It wasn’t smugness. It was just T. reminding her there was no room for mistakes. Keeping with protocol, she was wearing something that would be familiar to just the two of them.
Since T. usually did not reveal the item to any of her operatives, Vivi had been wracking her brain all morning, trying to think of all the possible items T. might use. Unless it was during a dangerous and urgent mission, T. always found it amusing to keep everyone on their toes.

Vivi studied the brightly colored fish-shaped hairpin in her friend’s hair. “You do know that thing clashes with red hair, don’t you?”

T. smiled. “Poor Ma’moiselle Millicent Legaux is sort of color-challenged. As well as a bit clumsy in real life. This is her first real holiday after years and years of slaving on the eighth floor of the library. She isn’t used to being outside for such long stretches.”

“So I see,” Vivi said wryly. “So where is the real Millicent Legaux holidaying?”

T’s eyebrows arched mockingly. “She’s being taken care of, which brings me to you. You wanted me to take care of something?”

“Yes.” Vivi thought of the contents of the package the stranger had given her.

“Does it have to do with those beautiful creatures on tape this morning?” T. fluttered her eyes exaggeratedly. She was referring to the navy SEALs under their protection, of course. “Oh my, all those naked hard abs and steely-eyed testosterone. How did you deal with their macho indignation at being caught without their clothes on?”

Vivi grinned. She knew her commander hadn’t been viewing those disks of the men training and their subsequent questions from that morning for eye candy alone. Her grin widened at the memory of how upset they were.

“I have a very good teacher,” she replied.

“Oh, you did excellent. Good mental distraction, directing their focus onto relevant things. If it’s okay, I’ve already ordered for us.” T. smiled at the waiter who appeared with a jug and glass of water for Vivi.

It amused Vivi to see how quickly that cocky grin had changed into a demure smile. The waiter smiled back and
the mousy “librarian” became all gangly and nervous, adjusting her glasses and playing with her napkin. When he leaned over to collect the menus, she dropped her napkin in nervous surprise. He bent down to pick it up at the same time and they banged heads.

T. even blushed realistically. It was amazing to watch, even as the nearby patrons laughed a little. When the waiter stood up, T. pushed her chair back to give him room, bumping into him and causing him to drop the menus and tray he was holding. Her horrified apologies came out in a string of fluent French and Vivi had to hide another grin as T. bent over to help the poor man and her head met his chin again in perfect timing. By the time the waiter went on his way, rubbing his chin and shaking his head, every eye in the restaurant was on their table.

“Was the performance for my benefit?” Vivi asked, after the laughter around them subsided.

T. shook her head, a small smile of satisfaction on her lips. “So tell me.” She wasn’t even out of breath.

Vivi gave a short summary of her encounter with the mysterious stranger and the envelope. “He claims he has been watching me for a while,” she continued, “and there is a high percentage that my disguise has been compromised.”

That was potentially serious news. If she was compromised, she could put many operations in jeopardy.

T.’s demeanor didn’t change as she sipped her drink. “Love this local sweet stuff,” she said, spooning the fruit out of the glass. “What’s in the envelope?”

“He said it’s a show of good faith. Inside is a picture of Sia-Sia,” Vivi said.

“A current photo?”

“No, it’s one of her around the age of the last time I saw her.”

“So your friend could be dead.” T. looked at her thoughtfully. “This man knows who you’re looking for but with an old picture, that doesn’t mean he has anything new to add. What else did he say?”

“That he has answers for me, but like you said, it could be just bait. When I asked him what he wanted in exchange, he said, ‘My freedom,’ whatever that means.”

“Oh I love a mystery man,” T. said, chewing on her straw. With her freckled face and red nose, she didn’t look anything like the sophisticated woman from the other night. “Dark and secretive. Spiderman techniques.
Ooh la la
. I would like to test his other…abilities.”

Vivi cocked her head. “Your hormones are on high these days, T. First running from a man, then it’s the group of SEALs, now it’s a faceless man. Are you sure you’re okay?”

T.’s green eyes were twinkling. “You’re the one bumping around with these luscious men and you’re asking me whether I’m okay?”

Vivi rolled her eyes. “I’m not bumping!”

“You think not? Well, let’s see which of our two guys here will do the bumping.”

Before Vivi could ask what she meant, T. jerked unexpectedly and her glass of water toppled over, wetting the tablecloth and dripping all over her clothes. Her shriek sounded very real but Vivi knew better. “
Mon dieu!
This is so careless! I have to go change my clothes,
mon ami
…and I’m sorry I’ll miss the meal with you and your friend, but here he is!”

Vivi turned around in surprise and could only gape at the sight of Jazz a few feet away, walking toward them with a big white towel. Even from where she was, she could see that his blue eyes were gleaming with laughter.

“Let me help,
mesdemoiselles
,” he offered gallantly, wiping excess water on the table.

“Why are you here?” Vivi asked in a low voice, glaring at T., who was busy dabbing at her shirt.

“I was looking for you,” he said. “Then I heard everyone laughing at some commotion and naturally, it had to be you,
chouchou.
No one can draw attention like you do. And you too,
mademoiselle
.”

T. fluttered her eyes, acting pleased and nervous. Her voice was breathless and stuttering. “I…why thank you. Oh…my. I’m so glad to meet you but I really have to go back to my room to change out of these sticky things. Please, stay and keep Vivi company. Here, have my seat.” She stood up and immediately walked right into Jazz, who had to steady her as she stumbled backward.

Vivi rolled her eyes. She watched, half exasperated and half pissed off, as her chief held on to Jazz’s T-shirt for dear life, sliding way too comfortably against his chest. She bit her tongue as T. went off in excited French about good food and wonderful, helpful men, and then somehow tripped over her shopping bag, which of course, brought her even closer to Jazz. He was the absolute gentleman, picking up the bag and offering to carry it for T., and reassuring that she looked fine and could still join them. And all along T. had her hands all over his body.

Vivi caught herself wanting to yell at T. Blinking back her surprise at the unexpected jealousy, she didn’t say anything as T. snatched up the package from the table, gave her a parting wink, and went off like a whirlwind, leaving behind a bemused Jazz.

Vivi frowned, glancing around. She didn’t see any second man. “Is Hawk here?”

It was Jazz’s turn to frown. “I’m beginning to think you have a thing for him,” he said, sitting down. “Isn’t it enough you talked to him all morning?”

“We were discussing strategy,” Vivi said, then stopped. Why the hell did she have to explain anything to him? “Why are you here anyway? How did you know I was here?”

He gave her that wicked smile that seemed to always affect her heart rate. “
Chouchou,
I figure since you couldn’t do dinner with me, I’ll have you for any meal.”

Jazz didn’t know why he followed Vivi. Okay, so he had a reason, but he didn’t understand the urgency behind it. He just needed to be alone with her for a while, wanted her away from the boys, without any talk about the field operation or
questions about her part in it. He especially wanted her away from Hawk, and here she was bringing Hawk’s name up as soon as he had sat down. “Quit looking around for Hawk. I followed you alone.”

Vivi frowned. “I didn’t see you.”

“That’s the point,
chouchou
,” Jazz replied.

“Damn, I must be losing focus,” Vivi muttered. “First him, now you…”

“First him, who?” Jazz hated to sound suspicious. He looked around too. “Don’t tell me Hawk has been sneaking up on you.”

“Hawk?” Vivi’s frown deepened. “Why would he need to follow me? I just talked to him earlier today.
You
were there, remember?”

The waiter showed up at that moment with the food and Jazz wondered at Vivi’s sigh as she checked the dishes.

“What’s the matter? Is the order wrong?” It looked and smelled delicious enough. He had taken a liking to eating the local food. “Vivi?”

“Oh, it’s nothing,” she said, waving the waiter away. “My girlfriend just knows what to order, that’s all.”

Jazz looked at the steamy plate of food. “It’s some kind of fish dish,” he said.

“Uh-huh.”

Well, at least they weren’t talking about Hawk anymore. He smiled. “You don’t like fish?” He took a bite. “This is quite good, even though it looks weird with its head still on. Really spicy. Don’t you like spicy food?”

Vivi’s mouth opened and closed, appearing to change her mind about her answer. She shrugged. “Yes, I do.” She picked up her fork and began poking at the entree. “I love fish.”

“It’s already dead, you know,” Jazz pointed out dryly after watching her fiercely attack the thing for a few moments.

“Yes, it is, isn’t it? Poor stupid fish, all alone, swimming there, and then whoosh, it’s suddenly curry.”

Jazz smiled, amused at himself for even enjoying the sight
of Vivi cutting up a dead fish. She was such a contradiction. All professional this morning, conducting a meeting with all the strategic techno-babble shooting out of that sexy mouth like bullets from a well-oiled weapon. Yet here she was, pouty and a bit mad. His film noir heroine was back, with all her secrets. And he had a sudden urge to kiss her, to see how she would respond.

She looked up sharply. “You’re laughing at me,” she accused.

“I’m laughing at the poor fish,” Jazz said.

“Why? It’s dead.”

“Precisely. It couldn’t be any deader.”

She gave an impatient sigh. “Why were you following me?”

Jazz always believed in telling a lady the truth. “Because I wanted to get to know you better. You’re always talking to Hawk.”

She stared at him. “But we were just discussing the operation.”

“I know that but I have to tell you, I don’t like the way he looks at you.” For the first time in his long friendship with Hawk, he felt jealous and possessive. “So Hawk can update me on strategy. Let’s talk about you. About us.”

She poked at the fish again, this time concentrating on the fish head. “There is no us. We don’t even know each other.” Her voice was low.

“That’s easily remedied. Here we are, alone, and we can talk about ourselves.” Just like the music, there were unknown layers to Vivi that called to him, challenging him to dig deeper. “No more talk about military or strategy, just simple things, Vivi. How about it?”

A small smile appeared on her lips. “You think it’s that simple? Talk about us and nothing will intrude? There is always reality intruding, soldier. We can have our moment, then you’ll be gone and I’ll still be here.”

Jazz frowned. “You make it sound so final. It doesn’t have to be permanent. I can come back to see you.”

“Oh, isn’t that the most familiar line around these parts?”

The fish head was mangled to pieces by now. Jazz reached over and took her hand in his. Her gaze finally met his, her hazel eyes searching. “Is that what you’re afraid of?” he asked quietly. “Are you putting me in the shoes of some past lover who left you?”

She didn’t deny it. And it pissed him off. Instead she tried to pull her hand away, but he held on.

“You don’t know me,” she insisted. “You don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“
Chouchou
, that’s what people who are attracted to one another do—get to know each other.”

“You just want to get me into bed.”

Jazz dropped her hand. There was a defiant gleam in her eyes, challenging him. He wasn’t getting through. He had lived with women all his life, had thought himself familiar with all the jumbled logic and female moodiness, but he couldn’t get through to this one. It was frustrating. Every time he thought he had climbed over one wall, he found another barrier.

He pushed back his seat and stood up. Her unflinching gaze followed him as he took the few steps closer to her.

“Yes I do,” he told her, “but you have to want it too, Vivi.”

She didn’t turn her face away when he kissed her. He took his time, uncaring that there were people around. Her lips were soft and willing, even though the owner seemed unmovable as a brick house. He lifted his head and watched her slowly open her eyes. Satisfaction bubbled on top of his frustration. She wasn’t as unmoved as she wanted him to believe.

“Not every soldier leaves his girl behind, sweetheart,” he said. “Please thank your friend for buying lunch. I’ll see you later.”