Hot Ice (A Hostile Operations Team Novel - Book 7) (28 page)

“You interfered in my operation in Qu’rim. Cost me a lot of business.”

“I don’t fucking care. If all you wanted was to get together and have a pity party, I got better things to do.”

Mendez was scraping his chair back when Black reached for his arm and gripped it tight. “You really need to hear what I have to say.”

Mendez thought about breaking the fucker’s arm but then decided that wouldn’t be a good idea. What had he told Iceman about brawling in bars?

Instead, he jerked his arm away and glared at the man across from him.

“Then get to it and stop wasting my time.”

Black’s dark eyes flashed. “You think there’s a leak in your chain. You’re not wrong. Those who appear to be enemies aren’t always enemies. And those who seem to be friends… well, you get the point.”

“Riddles? Seriously?”

“You’ve got a job to do, colonel. So do I. Did you ever think of that?”
 

The man was staring hard at him, his eyes deadly serious. Something began to niggle at Mendez’s conscience. There were many ways to serve, many ways to be covert. Was it possible that Black was actually on the right side of things? That he’d been sent to Qu’rim to be a mercenary for reasons Mendez didn’t know?

His CIA contact had told him Black was disavowed. But the records were sealed. There was no hint as to why, no narrative of what he’d supposedly done to get there.

On the other hand, Black might very well know that. This could be about manipulating the situation more than helping it.

“Why are you here, Black? What do you want me to know?”

Black’s nostrils flared. “I need you not to interfere with my mission.”

Mendez snorted. “Not happening, asshole. I need a better reason than a pretty plea.”

Black sat there for a long moment, staring at him. “DeWitt,” he said. “Watch him closely.”

He took another long drink of the beer, then stood and walked away without another word. Mendez watched him go, his gut churning even as his brain worked overtime.

Congressman DeWitt. A junior member of the House Armed Services Committee. DeWitt was on the subcommittee for intelligence, emerging threats, and capabilities—which was precisely the subcommittee that HOT fell under.

Mendez had met with DeWitt. He’d given him the official tour of HOT that members of Congress got. Not too deep into operations, but just enough to satisfy their curiosity. DeWitt had been fascinated, but that was nothing new. He’d also, amazingly enough, once dated Gina Domenico, before Gina had come to HOT for help and ended up marrying Jack Hunter.

Mendez signaled for the waitress and paid the bill. Black could be misdirecting him—or he could have just shared the missing puzzle piece Mendez needed.
 

He walked out into the night, hands shoved into his pockets, and headed for his car.
 

CHAPTER TWENTY

THEY WERE UP BEFORE DAWN this time, packing up the camp and getting started on the journey that Garrett hoped would see them at HOT by the end of the day. Grace needed their protection, and their skills—but a part of him didn’t want to take her there. Because once they were back at HOT, she would cease being his.

As if she were yours in the first place. As if you want her, or any woman, to be yours.

It was true he didn’t want a woman in his life right now. Didn’t need the distraction and the drama.

But… this was Grace.

Fuck
.

Grace, who wrapped her legs around his waist and made him lose his mind. Grace, who gave as good as she got—in bed and out of it. Dr. Grace Campbell, who was a scientist and a senator’s daughter—and so far above his head that he couldn’t even breathe the same air she did, in spite of his fancy manners.

But a part of him wanted to. The thought of turning her over, of walking away if that was what Mendez ordered him to do, sat in his gut like a stone.

He glanced at her. She had the ball cap on her head, her hair tucked up inside, and she was chewing her bottom lip. He wanted to chew that lip for her. His dick started to harden and he shifted in his seat. What the hell was wrong with him? Was he fifteen again and unable to control his reactions?
 

He knew what happened when he lost control. He did stupid things. Stupid, life-altering things. He’d been ruled by his dick when he was twenty, but he wasn’t making that mistake again.

This was a phase. As soon as he got back to reality, life would return to normal. He’d be hanging out with the guys, banging random chicks, and going on missions.

That idea should make him feel better, but oddly enough it didn’t. Because he kept thinking about how if he wasn’t with Grace, she’d be dating other men. Fucking other men. It was enough to make him crazy if he didn’t stop imagining it.

He gripped the wheel tight. He had to get Grace to HOT, and then he had to get back to his life. It was the only solution.

They’d been on the road for a couple of hours when Grace said she needed to stop. Garrett pulled into a town with a few anemic-looking shops, a gas station, and a diner. He had three-quarters of a tank of gas, but he decided to top off anyway.
 

Grace stood looking at the gas station and then glanced at the diner across the street. “Do you think we could sit down and eat before we go?”

He flicked a glance over the diner. There were several cars in the parking lot, and the smells coming from the restaurant were heavenly. If they went inside, they could eat whatever they wanted instead of something that traveled well.

Yet he didn’t like stopping, even for a quick meal. He shook his head. “Sorry, cupcake. It’s safer if we keep going.”

He took out his wallet and tossed her a twenty. “You can get us something to go if you like.”

She frowned as she wadded up the money in her hand. He knew she didn’t have any cash because they’d left her house so fast and he hadn’t allowed her to use her ATM card anywhere. But he’d had a stash because that’s how he operated. Always prepared.

“What do you want?”

“Better make it a sandwich of some sort. Easier to eat while driving.”

Her eyes were bright. “I could drive, you know. Give you a chance to eat and rest a bit.”

He shook his head. “I appreciate that, Grace. But it’s best if I’m behind the wheel. If trouble comes, I know what to do.”

She sighed and tugged her hat down over her forehead. “All right. Sandwich. Chips or fries?”

“Chips.”

“I’ll be back in a few,” she said, spinning on her heel and hurrying across the road. He watched her disappear inside the diner and heaved a breath before shoving a hand through his hair.

Jesus, she got to him.
 

He finished topping off and went inside the gas station convenience store to take a leak and grab some bottled water for the day. He didn’t bother resupplying for the night because he intended to reach HOT by then.

He’d paid for the water and was turning to leave when a Chevy Tahoe rocketed into the parking lot and skidded to a stop. Two men jumped out while a third stayed behind the wheel. One of the men walked over to the Jeep while the other stood and studied the area.

Garrett’s gut churned with warning. He could get out the back door, come around and take them by surprise. He dropped the bag he was holding and was starting to whirl when the door to the diner opened and a familiar green cap appeared.

Fuck.

If he didn’t go outside first, she’d walk into a trap. The men would take her, and he might not have the chance to do anything about it. But if he distracted them, just for a moment, maybe she’d realize what was happening. He just prayed she’d be smart enough to go back inside the diner rather than charge across the street and try to help him.

Garrett shoved the door open before he could change his mind, and the men spun toward him.
 

“Looking for something, boys?” he asked, knowing there was every chance they’d shoot him where he stood.

He’d never see Cammie again, never see Grace. But it was his job, and he would do whatever it took to protect the woman across the street.

Guns whipped out of holsters and pointed at him. He didn’t pull his.
 

“Where is the woman?”

* * *

Grace’s heart fell into her toes and then rocketed into light speed. Across the street, men in hunter camouflage had pulled guns on Garrett. She’d thought they were just some good old boys who’d gotten a little too excited, but then her instincts kicked in and told her that wasn’t the case.

For one thing, they weren’t holding hunting rifles. For another, one of them had remained in the truck, as if he were driving a getaway vehicle rather than spoiling for a fight over some perceived slight.

She wanted to help. More than anything, she wanted to go over there and fight. But with what? With two Styrofoam containers containing ham sandwiches?

She wasn’t stupid, and she wasn’t rash.

She thought Garrett flicked a glance at her, but she couldn’t be certain. She turned and went back inside the diner, her heart beating so hard her vision swam. What was she supposed to do now? Stay here and wait for them to drive away? Wait for them to kill Garrett?

Get out. Run.

Yes, she had to run. She didn’t want to leave him, but she knew she had to. What had he told her back at the motel that first night? Go into the woods and stay there. She dropped the sandwiches on a table and kept going, heading toward the rear of the diner. There was an entrance back there, and she prayed no one was watching it. She opened the door and stood for a moment, her breath frosting in the cool air as her heart warred with her brain.

The smart thing was to hide. The thing her heart demanded was to be by Garrett’s side. She strained her ears, listening to the sounds of birds chirping and cars passing on the road. There was no gunshot, though her eyes pricked with tears at the thought there might be. She prayed harder than she ever had before that Garrett would be all right.

The only person in the rear parking lot was an old man climbing from his truck. He tipped his ball cap to her as he ambled by and she nodded.
 

“Get moving, Grace,” she muttered. She trotted toward the woods at the rear of the diner. There was a drainage ditch she had to cross, but she managed to leap over it without falling in. Then she scrambled up the bank and into the woods.
 

She had the phone Garrett had given her tucked against her skin, between her bra and her underarm. She dragged it out now and flipped it open. Then she ripped the ball cap from her head and dialed the number Garrett had written there.

A man answered in one ring.

“Girard. Is this Dr. Grace Campbell?”

“Uh, yes, this is Grace.” She didn’t bother to wonder how he knew. Garrett would have thoroughly prepared his people. And he’d told her a code word to say. What was it again…? “Starlight. The word is starlight.”

The man on the other end huffed a breath. “Dr. Campbell, where are you? Are you okay?”

“I…I’m fine. But Garrett… they’ve got him. I think they’ve got him.” Her voice broke on that last, and she stuffed her fist against her lips to stop the sound from becoming a sob.

His voice was muffled for a second and she knew he was talking to someone else. “Keep talking, Doctor. As soon as we have your location, we’ll come get you.”

“I don’t know where we are. Virginia, I think. The Eastern Shore. We stopped in a town, but I didn’t see the name of it.” The sob she’d been trying to hold in broke free. “I don’t know where we are.”

“It’s okay, Grace. Can I call you Grace?”

“Yes.”

“Don’t worry because we’re getting your location from the phone. Just stay on the line, okay?”

“Okay.”

“What happened, Grace? Tell me everything. Take your time.”

“We stopped for gas, and I went across the street to a diner—Big Dan’s, I think it’s called—to get food. When I went back outside, there were two men with guns pointed at Garrett. Another man was sitting in a white Chevy Tahoe. I don’t know the year. They were wearing hunter cammies, but they weren’t carrying rifles. Pistols, though I don’t know what kind. I don’t know what happened after that because I ran.”

“That’s good. I need you to stay where you are and stay calm.”

Her throat ached and her vision blurred. “I left him,” she said past the tightness in her throat. “I left him there alone.”

“You did the right thing. If you’d tried to help, they’d have killed him and taken you.” His voice was soothing, rhythmic, and she wanted so badly to believe him. But she’d left Garrett alone, and the enormity of that was beginning to sink in. He’d done so much to protect her, but she’d walked away when he needed her most.

And just what could you have done, Gracie?

She swiped the tears from her cheeks and gritted her teeth. What could she have done? She could have bargained with the knowledge in her head, that’s what. They wanted the virus, and she knew how to make it.
 

“I need to go back,” she said.