Out of Plans (The Mercenaries #2) (12 page)

BOOK: Out of Plans (The Mercenaries #2)
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Lily's grip on the wheel grew so hard, the friction from the cracked leather bit into her skin. It wasn't fair. Not that she expected life to ever be easy or fair anymore, but seriously. It was bad enough that any secret hopes she'd been holding in the back of her heart for Marc to be glad to see her, for him to be miserable without her and so in love with her that he couldn't stand the idea of spending another moment apart, had been completely dashed. Now she was painted into a corner with him.

And not only had her secret wish not come true, but her deepest fear
had
– that it had only ever been about the diamonds. Touches in the night and sweet words whispered over the sand. All a lie. He just wanted the stones. Even now, he didn't trust her enough, didn't respect her enough, to just give her what she wanted.

Getting my fingers broken didn't hurt as bad as this.

“De Sant, I -”


Marc
.”

“I can give you the rest of the diamonds! You don't need to do this,” she insisted.

“How do I know that the minute I give you an address, tell you his plans, you won't simply slip off in the middle of the night? Or shoot me in the knee and leave me for dead? No, I'm gonna hold onto my little insurance policy. Start driving princess, we've got a lot of miles to cover.”

And that was that. No amount of yelling, threatening, arguing, bribing, or cajoling, could get him to budge. He wanted all the diamonds, and he wasn't going to say one word about Stankovski until he got them. She could just follow his instructions, and that was the best she would get. They would be partners again.

Again
. Fuck my life. What did I ever do to deserve Marcelle De Sant?

DAY TWO HUNDRED AND FIFTEEN

 

Marc watched Lily as she jogged across the street. She glanced over her shoulder at him once, then made her way to a payphone. She had to call Kingsley – the Brit was going to be their ticket out of South America. They had to get to Florida, so Marc could gear up. After that, he'd assured her he would point them in Stankovski's direction.

He still couldn't fucking believe it. Liliana Brewster, in the flesh. She was so different. He'd thought of her every single day since he'd left her, so he'd remembered her well. There had been a lot of long nights and lonely days, with only the memory of her to keep him company. To keep him sane.

Of course, when Marc had sent his letter to her, he'd known she would get upset. Lily was all piss and vinegar. But he'd never imagined that she would hold onto her anger for so long. Not only that, it had never occured to him that she would actively continue along with her original mission of killing Stankovski, and that she would track down Kingsley Law to help her.

Law
. Just thinking his name made Marc grind his teeth. The British mercenary was funny, and smart, and charming, and handsome, and also one of the best in the business. And Lily had been spending time with him.
A lot
of time with him. More time than she had ever spent with Marc.

I'm going to kill him.

It hurt his heart that Lily honestly thought he'd left her because of the diamonds. By the end of their time together, the diamonds hadn't meant anything. He'd left her to them, hadn't he? Left her to go to Tangier on her own. Didn't that count for anything? He didn't want the diamonds now. He just knew that if he hadn't taken her bait, she would've continued seeking out Stankovski on her own, and no matter what she said, no matter what bullshit Law had put into her head, she wasn't equipped to handle that task on her own.

Though really, she certainly handled you well enough.

Marc chuckled and rubbed at the lump on his head. She'd kicked his ass, he wouldn't even deny it. She was quicker, faster.
Lily 2.0
. Her curves had been replaced by tone muscles, and her fiery passion had been replaced by ice cold anger.

But in his heart, he believed,
he knew
, that she was still the same person. Still the same woman who had rocked his world in Africa. Still the same woman, fighting her way to become something she was never meant to be; something she didn't need to be – he couldn't allow it. Not for any amount of diamonds.

He would take her to Stankovski, alright. And then he would end it, once and for all.


Okay
!” her voice startled him out of his private thoughts. He glanced over to find her climbing into the passenger seat next to him.

“Got the info?”

“We have to get to Barranquilla, it's on the coast. Maybe like ... twelve hours from here, or so,” Lily explained while Marc pulled back into traffic.

“We can make that in no time,” he replied. She snorted.

“Let's not get ahead of ourselves. You and I don't have such good luck with cars.”

He laughed out loud.

“Very good point.”

He'd thought maybe they were reaching a place where they could laugh and talk like old friends, but he was mistaken. She fell silent after that, staring out her window the whole time he drove. Any attempt he had made at conversation, she shot down with one word answers, or sometimes just ignoring him all together.

You left her, remember, idiot? So stop chasing her. Treat it like a job. Like any other job.

His knee was bothering him – their little party with Damiano had fucked him up more than he wanted to admit, and then Lily's kick the day before hadn't helped at all. He knew he needed time to rest, time to heal, but stopping meant giving Lily time to find an excuse to ditch him. He didn't want that to happen. Now that he knew she wasn't living a peaceful normal life somewhere, he couldn't bear the thought of her being out of his sight.

They switched after an hour or so, and Marc stretched out in the back seat. He elevated his leg, then actually drifted off, the hum of the engine and sounds of the road lulling him to sleep.

He wasn't sure how many hours later it was when he was jolted awake. He blinked his eyes rapidly and realized the car was stopped. More than that, he was alone. He twisted around, struggling to sit upright

She left me. I can't believe she left me. Well, I left her, so maybe I deserve it. But still ... that crazy bitch left me in the middle of -

“Hey.”

He whipped his head around to find Lily getting into the passenger seat. It was a simple movement, and he wasn't sure if maybe it was because his brain was still struggling to wake all the way up, but he was struck by such a powerful wave of nostalgia that it took him a moment to catch his breath. Being in a car with her again, suddenly he was back in Africa. Back to one of the most dangerous times in his whole life, which was saying something.

Also one of the best times, which is
really
saying something.

“Where'd you go?” he asked, clearing his throat.

“Gas. Food,” she replied, holding up snacks. “Your turn to drive, De Sant.”

He scowled and got out of the car. He hated that she wouldn't use his name. He got behind the wheel and slammed the door shut.

“How far away are we?” he checked, glancing at the horizon as they pulled out of the gas station. The sun was rapidly setting. They'd started driving around six in the morning, so they couldn't be too far from their destination.

“Close, maybe an hour or so,” she answered, propping her foot on the dash and munching away at an apple.

“You couldn't handle another hour or two of driving?” he snapped. She laughed, and he knew he was being ridiculous, but he couldn't help it. He was sore, he was tired, he was grumpy, and ... he'd missed her.

He hated that feeling.

“Someone woke up full of sweetness,” she teased him.

“Screw you.”

“We should make a plan,” she said abruptly, switching subjects and surprising him.

“Plan for what?”

“For how this is all going to go down. You gear up in Florida, then you lead me to Stankovski. Once he's in my sights, then what do you do?” she asked.

There was a wall between them, a mile high and fifty feet thick, and it was there because he'd lied to her. So lying to her again was probably a bad idea, but he did what he thought he had to do in order to keep her safe. Of all his jobs, she had become the most important one. Her health, her survival –
that
was the payout.

“Then ... I collect what I'm owed,” he said. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw her flinch. Just for a moment, then her mask of bitchiness was securely in place.

“Kingsley will take us to Miami. He can help you find what you need,” she informed him.

“Are you shitting me? I don't fucking need Kingsley Law to help me with anything,” he spit out. She raised her eyebrows and finally looked at him.

“You know, every time I say his name, you seem to get pissier and pissier. Why is that?” she asked, then took another bite of her apple.

“I don't get pissier. I just don't need Law holding my hand like I've never bought a fucking gun before; Miami was my home base for years, Lily. I got my start there. I'll handle my shit on my own,” he informed her.

“Whatever you say, De Sant. Sounds pretty pissy to me,” she kept her voice light. It just made him angrier.

“How the fuck did you wind up with him anyway?”

“I called him.”

“Law doesn't have a phone number.”

“His contractor does. Kingsley left my name with the guy, and when I called, he told me how to find him. I've been with him ever since,” she explained.

She's been with him since the moment I left.

Marc felt like his head was going to explode.

“I'm surprised. I can't handle his bullshit for more than a couple days,” he grumbled. She smiled.

“We get along surprisingly well. I don't think we've been apart for more than a day or two, since I found him,” she said.

“Sounds like a little slice of heaven,” he growled through clenched teeth. She nibbled around the core of her apple and laughed at him.

“If I didn't know any better, I'd say you sound jealous, De Sant. But that can't be right, seeing as how
you
left
me
,” she told him.

“Not jealous.”

“Oh, okay.”

There was a pause and he listened as she ate away the last bits of apple.

“Have you fucked him yet?”

“Ah, now we get to the heart of the problem. Would it be an issue if I had?” she asked, turning to fully face him.

“No, but I would strongly recommend you get tested as soon as possible. His standards are pretty low,” he warned her. She threw her head back and laughed.

“And insulting him! I'm flattered, De Sant, but I don't get it. You didn't want this, so why do you care who's getting it?”

“I don't.”

“Aw, is it because you haven't been getting any? That's so ... sad.”

“Who says I haven't? I spent two weeks in Brazil before I went back to Colombia. Brazil has some amazing prostitutes,” he pointed out.

“Paying for sex, De Sant, how ...
Kingsley
of you. And here I've been going about it the boring way, just fucking people who are attracted to me,” she made fun of him. His eyebrows shot up.

“How many people have you fucked since Africa?” he asked. She smiled.

“I've lost track, it's been so many. Just squeezing it in wherever I can, between jobs,” she answered.

“Stop being cute and answer the question. How many men have you slept with since me?” he demanded.

“Since you, ah. See?
Jealous
,” she repeated that word he hated.

Hated it because it was true.

“I knew you were easy in Africa, but wow, Lily, I never realized you were a full on whore.”

The apple core hit him in the side of the head.

“Watch it, asshole. I could be humping my way across every country I go to, and that's none of your fucking business. You gave it up just as easily, so if I'm a whore,
you're
a whore. Now shut the fuck up and pay attention,” she snapped at him.

“To what? More projectile fruit?” he asked, chucking the apple core into the back seat.

“No, to the car that's following us.”

Marc immediately snapped to attention and began checking all the mirrors. The road they were on was a simple two lane highway. Not exactly rush hour traffic, but there were other cars out and about. A beat up looking Honda had passed them just moments before she'd spoken. Marc dropped speed, to almost ten kilometers below the limit, but the maroon SUV that was now behind them didn't pass. Its speed dropped, as well. Marc heaved a sigh.

And just when I thought things were going our way for the first time ever.

DAY TWO HUNDRED AND FIFTEEN

 

Her bag was resting on the backseat and Lily grabbed for it, pulling out a pair of binoculars. They didn't show her anything new, though. Just that a dark maroon SUV type car was trailing behind them, doing the same speed. The windows were all tinted, and the glare from the sun prevented her from seeing through the windshield. She could definitely see a driver, but couldn't tell if anyone else was in the car.

Fuck. I knew it. I should've said something back at the gas station, ended this then.

“Anything?” Marc asked when she turned back around.

“Not that I could see. He's not being very sneaky or aggressive. Maybe he just wants to see where we're going,” she suggested. Marc kept looking in the mirror.

“I highly doubt that.”

“What do you think he's waiting for?”

“A long stretch of straight road and no other cars.”

“Well,” Lily sighed and pulled out a map from under her seat, “he may have to wait for a while, we haven't been alone in a while. Kingsley might already be in country, maybe he's driving towards us.”

“And now you've jinxed us.”

She hit him with the map before putting it away.

They sat in a pensive silence, both watching the car behind them. Marc did almost twice the speed limit at one point, zipping around and between other cars, gaining quite a bit of distance. But sure enough, just a moment or two later, the dark vehicle loomed up behind them once again. They were definitely being followed.

“Is your gun loaded?” Marc asked. She nodded.

“Always.”

“Good. What about that bag you had me haul around? All those weapons good?”

“Good enough. They're all cleaned and loaded, they're behind your seat.”

“This is fucked. He's riding my bumper, he's gearing up to try something.”

“Calm down, we're not that far away. Maybe forty-five minutes and then we can -”

The back window exploded as a bullet whizzed through the car. Lily shrieked and ducked while Marc nearly drove off the road. Apparently, their “friend” had gotten bored with tailing them.

Game on.

“Jesus, that was close!” Marc yelled. Lily peeked over the backseat.

“Yes, it was.”

“I almost hit a fucking gas truck!”

“Well, try not to do that.”

There was another gun shot and the side view on their driver's side exploded. Another shot was fired, but it missed them entirely. There was a minivan heading in the opposite direction and they watched as the windshield erupted in cracks. It veered left and right before slamming into a guard rail. A motorcycle that had been following too close behind slammed into its bumper, throwing the rider over the rail and down a ditch.

“Fuck it. I'm getting off this highway,” Marc grumbled, then jerked the wheel hard to the right, sending the car careening down a wide dirt road.

The maroon car followed them and even sped up, ramming into the bumper of their car. Lily shrieked and put her hands on the dash, bracing herself.

“Super fucking idea, Marc! Glad you got off that highway!” she yelled at him. He just glared and slammed the gas pedal down to the floor.

“Déjà vu,” he growled.

“Uh uh,” she replied quickly. “I'm not driving this time. You can lead the high speed pursuit. I'll fire the guns. I have better aim anyway.”

She didn't give him time to argue, she just slipped between the seats and knelt in the back. The first gun she grabbed out of the rucksack was a .45 ACP – a ridiculously huge handgun. It was loaded, and she flicked off the safety. She caught Marc's eyes in the mirror and he smirked.

“That's a big gun, sweetheart. Careful,” he warned her.

“I guess it would seem big to you. You're used to handling such little weapons,” she replied quickly. He snorted.

“Just fire the cannon. Aim for -”


A tire
. I know what I'm doing, De Sant.”

The kickback was awful, but she'd been expecting it. Her bullet pinged off the other car's fender. She took a deep breath and put her elbows against the headrest, steadying herself. She sighted the front tire on the driver's side. The car was bumping and moving around everywhere, it wasn't easy, but she concentrated harder. Slowed her breathing. Leaned down so she was eye level with the gun.

You can do this. Pull the trigger. Show him how good you are.

“What the fuck is that!?”

Marc's voice startled her and she glanced over her shoulder at him. Then she realized he was looking in the mirror, so she stood on her knees and looked out the back. The sun roof on the other car had opened and a huge machine gun was being attached to the luggage rack.

“That is ... a problem,” Lily finally replied.

The other gun was much louder and much bigger than Lily's. She screamed and laid flat on the seat as bullets laced through the back of the car. Marc yanked on the wheel, forcing the car to zig zag its way down the road, jumping the embankment at one point. As he fought to control the vehicle, Lily began to wonder if maybe she should've taken over driving, after all.

“Jesus, can't you fire back!?” Marc yelled.

“Are you fucking joking!?”

“No! Goddamn do something!”

What did he expect from her!? There was a machine gun trying to turn their car into Swiss cheese, she couldn't exactly stand up and take her time to get her aim right. She reached into their small cache of weapons, but there was no magical flare gun waiting for her. No rifles or shot guns, even. Just a couple hand guns, most smaller than the one she had in her hands.

Kingsley's law: work with what you've got, and make it count.

They were still off the road, but hugging the edge of it. Their pursuers were on the road, but right on their ass. Lily just needed to get one good shot. One tire, and she could slow them down. Maybe even flip them.

She took a deep breath and looked at Marc. He was ducked down in the driver's seat, trying to keep control as they flew over the uneven ground. Then she turned on her stomach and reached for the seat belt closest to the door. She grabbed it and yanked on it, several times. Coiled it around her left forearm, then leaned off the seat, putting all her weight on it. It continued to hold, so she shuffled onto her knees and huddled up against the door. She took the seatbelt that was in the center and wrapped it around her ankle, then twisted her arm into the one by the door a few more times. She closed her eyes and pressed her forehead down by the door lock.

“What are you doing back there, taking a fucking nap!?”

Eat it, De Sant.

Lily yanked on the door handle and fell out of the car. Marc shouted as gravity and inertia took hold, yanking her towards the ground. She knew the seatbelt would keep her tethered to the car, so she swung her body forward, hitting the back edge of the door, all while swinging her arm forward and pointing the gun straight out in front of her.

Just one good shot, please.

The car door was hitting her in the back of the head and shoulders, rocks and dirt were flying everywhere, and
nothing
was still – she felt like her eyeballs were going to shake out of her skull. But she took a deep breath, held her arm as steady as possible, and pulled the trigger.

The tire blew on the first shot, but she fired off three more rounds and was rewarded by seeing steam shoot out from the grill. While the other car veered off the road behind them, Lily gritted her teeth and yanked her way back into her own vehicle, struggling to shut the door behind her. She fumbled with the gun and watched it drop to the ground.

“Shit!” she cursed, slamming the door.

“Are you hit!? Where are you hit!? Is there blood!?” Marc started shouting the instant she was inside, his arm moving in beween the seats, feeling around for her. She slapped him away and climbed into the front.

“No, I dropped the gun. I loved that gun,” she grumbled, fighting to get her legs out from underneath her. Marc suddenly grabbed her by the back of the neck, his fingers tangling in her hair, and he yanked her close.


Don't you ever fucking do that again!
Do you have any idea how dangerous that was!?” he yelled at her. She glared at him before jerking free of his grasp.

“Are you for real!? Just drive the fucking car!” she yelled back before twisting in her seat.

Their pursuers were still moving, but they had definitely lost speed. Their flat tire was killing them, and she could hear the engine sputtering, gasping for life. But there was another noise, rising above the rest, that she couldn't quite place. She stared at the other car, waiting for the muffler or something to fall off, when she heard Marc move.

“Now what?” he moaned, and she turned around.

He was hunched low over the steering wheel, staring at the sky. Lily mimicked his stance and quickly saw what he was talking about, saw what was making the racket. A sleek black helicopter was in the distance, but quickly closing in on them.

“Enemy?” she asked.

“Most likely,” Marc sighed. She glanced behind them. The other car was still chugging along, and she could see someone reloading the big gun up on top.

“Shit. Can we hide somewhere?” she continued, facing forward again.

“Where? All I see are open fields. There's no way we can make the forest before that fucker is on us,” Marc pointed out.

“Is it an armed helicopter?” she asked, leaning further over the dash, trying to look straight up.

“Sweetheart, that's a Kiowa. Oh-58d, if I'm right. It's military. It's fucking armed,” he replied.

“Where would someone get a military helicopter around here!?” Lily exclaimed. “I didn't see any military bases on the map, it's not like -”

It was like an electrical shock in her brain. One minute, she couldn't believe there was a helicopter flying towards them. The next, she knew
exactly
why.

“Fuck it, maybe if I whip around, we can get past the other car. There was a barn back there, we could -” Marc began, when the gun behind them open fired again.

“No! Keep going straight!” Lily urged.

“Are you nuts!? The gun on that bird up there could shred us!” Marc yelled back.

“It won't! Keep going!”

It was too late to do anything, anyway, and she prayed that she was right. The helicopter dipped low, just meters above the ground and racing towards them. Marc dropped speed and the vehicle behind caught up, the bullets pinging around in their car.

Lily went to turn around, to grab another gun, when Marc started yelling. It sounded like war had broken out all around them, and suddenly his hand was on the back of her head, forcing her flat between the seats. She covered her ears and turned to her side just in time to see the helicopter fly by their windows. A large cannon like gun was mounted on its side and it was firing away. Dirt from the road flew into the air and soon enough, bullets were ripping apart the engine of the chase vehicle. Blowing out all the windows. Disintegrating the roof. Stopping it in its tracks.

Marc slammed on the brakes and their car skidded for a while before coming to a halt. He finally let Lily up and they both looked out the windows. The car that had been following them was dead. One man was attempting to crawl out a window. And in a field to their right, the helicopter was landing, its blades slowing down.

“How did you know he wouldn't shoot us?” Marc asked. Lily smiled and turned around in her seat.

“Because.”

She fumbled with the door and practically fell out onto the road before jogging back to the car behind them. The man who had been firing the machine gun was dead, as was the driver. One other guy, the one who had crawled out a window, had managed to get a couple feet from the car before passing out.

“I'd forgotten what life with you is like!” Marc was laughing. Lily turned around just as he came to a stop next to her.

“Me? This is all your handiwork, De Sant,” she said, but she couldn't help herself. She was smiling at him.

“Sweetheart,” he sighed as he stepped closer to her. “The name is Marc.”

Then he was kissing her, dipping her backwards and forcing his tongue into her mouth. She was shocked for a second, but then remembered how Marc liked to celebrate being alive. She shoved at his shoulders till he let her go.

“Jesus, you never stop,” she groaned, struggling to pull out of his embrace.

“No, not when it comes to you.”

Lily didn't even want to think about what that meant, or the way he was smiling at her, or the way his kiss and arms and body had felt. She shook her head and looked back at the helicopter. The pilot was climbing out and dropping to the ground. She smiled and started jogging towards him.

“Hey! What are you doing!?” Marc shouted after her.

The pilot was already walking in their direction. He was wearing all black, just like she'd expected. He pulled off a pair of gloves as he moved, then began working on peeling off a heavy black sweater. A sweater she had worn a time or two, when mornings had been too cold and she'd wanted comfort without any touching. Underneath the sweater was a black bullet proof vest, and it too fell to the ground. A shiny blue suit jacket was revealed, as well as a matching tie. His belt was the next thing to go, and by the time Lily was almost in front of him, he'd stepped out of a pair of loose black slacks, revealing tailored pants underneath.

BOOK: Out of Plans (The Mercenaries #2)
2.48Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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