Short Fuse: Elite Operators, Book 2 (11 page)

Assured they were alone, he finally let his eyes drop to the object in front of the cabin door. Already coated with fat, buzzing flies, it took him a second to register exactly what he saw.

The eyes had been gouged out, the patchy fur exposed swaths of stinking flesh and part of the cheek was ripped away, revealing a row of yellowed teeth and what remained of a distended tongue.

It was a reeking, mangled, half-rotted goat’s head.

Chapter Nine

“Absolutely, I completely agree. I’ll raise it now and let you know. Speak soon.”

Nicola hung up with her boss and shoved her phone in her jeans pocket. This edict from corporate headquarters wasn’t going to be taken well, but that was tough. There was a serious problem at Hambani, and it couldn’t be ignored any longer.

She sagged against the desk in Roger’s office, where she’d retreated to make her call in private. It was barely eight o’clock in the morning yet she felt like she’d been running at top speed for ten hours. Thank God she’d gotten plenty of rest last night, having found a great antidote to insomnia in Warren, otherwise—

Warren.
Just the thought of him took her breath away. He was quite possibly the most attractive man she’d ever had the privilege to touch. When he’d removed his shirt to reveal that lean, combat-chiseled torso she was genuinely concerned she might pass out. And those graphite-gray eyes leveled on hers, their intensity undermined by that glint of playfulness…

She shivered despite the stuffy room.

“Head in the game,” she reminded herself, grimly recalling the task at hand. This was not the time for schoolgirl fantasizing. She had a job to do.

She squared her shoulders as she crossed the office unit to the canteen, where Roger, Cedric, Alex, Dan and Warren were waiting. They’d gathered there an hour earlier, their expressions transitioning from mild irritation to outright alarm as she’d relayed the story of her dawn discovery.

She swallowed a surge of nausea as the image of the goat’s head reared in her mind. She blinked hard to dispel it, quickening her pace toward the door.

The canteen was silent when she stepped inside. Dan, Cedric and Alex hunched over steaming mugs of coffee at the table. Warren leaned against the counter, arms crossed. Roger paced back and forth at the end of the room, halting in his tracks the instant he realized she had arrived.

“Well?” he demanded. “What did he say?”

“We had a long conversation.” She pulled out a chair at the head of the table. “Is there any more coffee?”

Roger huffed in exasperation. “And? What’s the plan?”

Alex stood up. “Milk and sugar?”

“Just milk, thanks.”

“We’re under attack and she’s hosting a tea party.” Roger resumed pacing, shaking his head.

Cedric and Dan stared at the tabletop as Alex took his time pouring the coffee. Warren was watching Roger, but when she glanced his way he met her gaze.

Less than a second’s eye contact, but it was everything she needed. That one look assured her she was in control, she could handle this and he was right behind her.

She’d never been the type to need external validation and encouragement, but when she looked away again her spine was straighter, her heart rate calmer.

She thought about his decisive strength that morning, his methodical, almost eerie composure as he led her away from the cabin door and back to the bed, pressing her phone into her hand and telling her to call security. By the time she’d done that, and then called Roger to have him assemble the team, Warren had washed and dressed and sat down beside her.

“Is it—”

“Bagged and moved. You won’t have to see it again.”

“What does it mean?”

“No idea.”

She’d swallowed a sob, a hiccupping burst of fear and helplessness that she fought to conceal. Warren slung his arm across her back and squeezed her tightly, and for five indulgent seconds she let her eyes fall shut and gave herself over to his heat and solidity. Everything would be fine. He would protect her—he would keep her safe.

Alex took the chair beside her, sliding the full mug in her direction. She accepted it with a smile, then turned to the team.

“I’ve spoken to my supervisor in London, who will share the situation with the CEO later today. In the meantime he’s asked me to prepare everyone for the possibility that we may need to shut down production at Hambani and evacuate the site until a full risk-and-safety assessment is completed.”

“You want to close the mine?” Roger resumed pacing with renewed intensity, shaking his head so violently that she briefly entertained the fantasy it might roll right off his shoulders.

“We
may
have to
temporarily
suspend production,” she clarified. “Nothing’s been decided, so let’s not panic yet.”

“I was thinking,” Cedric volunteered in his accented English. “The animal this morning—it was a goat?”

Nicola nodded. Roger exhaled impatiently.

“Sometimes, the Matsulus, they follow the old ways. There is the lion, the gorilla, the jackal—”

“Oh God, here we go with the Latadi mumbo-jumbo.” Roger rolled his eyes. “Get to the point, Cedric.”

Flustered, Cedric frowned as he tried to articulate his thoughts. “The goat, it’s not—the jackal—”

“It’s okay,” she encouraged him. “Take your time.”

Roger whirled to face her. “Are you in charge of everything now? Who speaks and for how long? I’ll tell you right now, sweetheart, I’m done with you and your little voices on the phone. This is my site, and I’m sick of your meddling.”

“It’s Garraway Gold’s site, Roger, not yours. And that voice on the phone is your boss.”

His eyes bulged with fury as he took halting steps in her direction. “Who the hell do you think you are, telling me how to do my job? I don’t know who you slept with to get where you are, but as far as I’m concerned, you’re just a pampered princess who fills a quota and makes a nice photo in the annual report. I’ve had it with your worthless opinions, sauntering around this site like you own it, and if you think for one minute I’m going to let these black bastards—”

“That’s enough.” Warren stepped into Roger’s path.

“Of course, I nearly forgot about the wannabe bodyguard,” Roger sneered, pushing into Warren’s space. “What’s the matter, rich boy? Didn’t they teach you enough at those fancy schools to get a real job? Or are you so stupid even Daddy had to fire you? I finally meet a real-life Copley, and it’s the one who became an overpaid bouncer.”

Roger smirked at her over Warren’s shoulder. “What is it you like about him so much, huh? You think he’ll help you get in good with Copley Ventures? You think you can seduce him into signing over his shares? Or is it just the size of his gun?”

Warren decked him.

The whole room seemed to freeze in time, the sickening thud of Warren’s fist landing in the middle of Roger’s face echoing into eternity. Then the clock sped up as Roger toppled over backward, Dan leaned over the table for a better view and Alex and Cedric leapt to their feet.

Warren was on his knees at Roger’s side, one hand fisted in the man’s shirtfront, the other one fisted in preparation for another blow.

“Warren,” she called hoarsely, shooting to her feet. “Leave him.”

He paused, but when he glanced at her over his shoulder she could see the wildness in his eyes and the rage tightening his jaw. She staggered forward and put her hand on the arm that held Roger angled up off the floor. She felt his rock-hard muscles, flexed and taut through the cloth of his shirt.

“Witnesses,” she whispered, ignoring Roger’s dazed stare. Warren let out a frustrated growl but released his hold, and the site manager slumped to the ground.

Warren straightened and looked around the room, taking in his colleagues’ shocked faces as if he’d only just remembered they were there. The silence was heavy and uncomfortable—everyone seemed to be watching someone else for a cue, unsure what to say or how to react.

Nicola watched as his expression changed from sheepish to rueful to glowering, defensive anger. He swore under his breath and stormed from the room, slamming the door behind him.

Roger grunted as he pushed himself to a sitting position, shaking his head and blinking repeatedly. Attentive gazes turned toward him. Still no one had spoken.

Alex started it. The barest hint of a smile making him look even younger than he was, followed by a low, almost guilty chuckle.

She looked at him in disbelief. He was
laughing
.

And after a second, so was Dan. They were sniggering, hissing as they tried to conceal their smiles behind their hands, then giving up as the laughter overcame them both. Roger’s scowl deepened as their humor became infectious, until Dan was bent over supporting himself with a hand on his knee, Alex was wiping tears from behind his glasses and even Cedric cracked a tentative smile.

“He nailed you,” Alex managed with wheezing breaths. “Oh man, Roger, he laid you out.”

“You went down like a sack of potatoes,” Dan spluttered, red-faced and grinning.

Roger glared at her from his place on the floor. “Are you just going to stand there and let these morons make a joke out of this?”

“It was pretty funny,” she admitted, giving in to a totally unprofessional smile.

“A blatant assault in front of your eyes and you think it’s hilarious!” Roger hauled himself to his feet, dabbing at the blood pooling beneath his nose. “We’ll see who’s laughing when Copley is fired and I drag him through the Latadi court system.”

She watched as Roger stomped in the direction of his office, muttering under his breath as he went. He had a point—Warren had crossed a line. He’d been wrong to hit Roger, and if she hadn’t stopped him he would’ve done it again. He should have controlled his temper and tried to neutralize the situation without the use of force, as would be expected of any police officer.

His impulsivity should make her wary. His capacity for violence should scare and offend her. His hair-trigger assault on Roger should make her seriously reconsider her feelings for this dangerous man.

She knew it. And she couldn’t care less.

“They won’t actually fire Warren, will they?” Alex had recovered most of his composure, though his eyes were still bright with humor.

“I’d say Roger’s job is in a lot more jeopardy than Warren’s at this stage. But it’s not up to me.” She took a deep breath and brought her hands together, like a schoolteacher trying to rein in the class after recess. “I know we’ve had a lot of excitement this morning, but this is still an operating gold mine and we all have jobs to do. Get on with your day as normal, and I’ll be in touch as soon as there are any updates.”

The three men nodded and began to file out of the room, with Cedric bringing up the rear. He paused in the doorway, waiting until the other two were out of earshot before he spoke.

“The goat—it means something.”

“I know, but what?”

“I will find out,” Hambani’s fixer promised. “I am a Kibangu, so I don’t know the Matsulu traditions, but there are people I can ask. If we understand the symbol, we will understand the message.”

“Thanks, Cedric. That would be a huge help.”

“And what will you do today? Do you want me to set up meetings with the local authorities?”

She shook her head. “Not yet. We have to wait for word from London.”

“And until then?”

“I need to find Warren.”

Warren loaded the last three automatic weapons into the hulking upright safe, shut the door and spun the lock to seal it.

He swiped the back of his hand across his forehead, then glanced at his watch. Five o’clock. No wonder he was starving.

“There you are.”

He cringed. He knew he shouldn’t have come back to the office. He should’ve stayed away until after dinner, until he was ready to face her. Now he had no choice.

He kept his expression carefully neutral when he turned around, fighting the flicker of ludicrous delight at the mere sight of her.

She propped a chiding hand on her hip, but her smile was playful. “I’ve been looking for you all day. Garraway wants to keep the mine functioning until we know more, but I think the boss’s hand is hovering over the shutdown button. Where’ve you been?”

He shrugged, shoving his hands in his pockets. “I had a lot to do.”

“Such as?”

“I checked all the equipment sheds for signs of tampering. There were scratches on a couple of the locks, like someone had tried to pick them, so I got one of the shift leaders to open them all. Then I consolidated all the explosives into the shed with the strongest door and the tightest lock.”

“So that’s why you look like you spent the day rolling on the ground.”

He glanced down at his clothes, realizing for the first time that his shirt and jeans were streaked with red dirt.

“And where did you find this monster? Fort Knox?” She nodded to the safe at his back.

“It was here already, just buried behind a bunch of sacks full of confidential documents waiting to be shredded. I collected all the weapons Roger had stashed around the site and locked them in here, including those in the mine tunnels. I still need to remove all the explosives stored down there. I thought they’d just need to be reorganized, but some of them are mislabeled and others may have become unstable from being kept at the wrong temperature, so I want to bring them all out and go through—”

“Are you hungry?”

“Not really,” he lied.

She tilted her head. “You’ve been skulking around the site for hours. Time to call it a day and get something to eat.”

“I’m fine.”

In two quick steps she’d reached him, hooking her thumbs through his belt loops. “Come on, Warren. Take me to dinner. Apparently there’s an old, colonial-era restaurant in Namaza that serves half-decent food. We haven’t seen any of the town outside that creepy gas station.”

He steeled himself against the temptation to tug her close, to lower his face to those soft red waves and lose himself in her scent. Instead he planted his hands on her shoulders and held her at arm’s length.

“About this morning—”

“Forget it.”

“I shouldn’t have hit him.”

“Probably not. That doesn’t mean he didn’t have it coming.”

He sighed ruefully. “I would’ve found a reason if he hadn’t.”

She studied him thoughtfully for a minute, then slowly moved his hands to her waist and pressed into him. “You’re too hard on yourself. You think your temper might’ve cost you your job with the Special Task Force, and now you’re worried you’ve lost this one, too.”

He just stared at her, at the big, unnamed emotion glittering in her eyes. She looked like she was on the verge of saying something significant—something she couldn’t take back.