Warrior Mine (21 page)

T
he observation room rocked
. A panel of gizmos attached to a desk in front of a ten-by-five slab of one-way glass. If she had popcorn and a place to prop her feet, it’d be like a movie theatre. Cool. Dark. Quiet. Beside Sophie, her mom sat, fingers strumming frantically over the arm of the cushy chair. Of course, her mother didn’t want her to see anything gory. And honestly, neither did she. But she trusted Vail.

Beyond the mirror, Carlos paced in a vibrant orange jumpsuit. His fat belly had grown and his nose slanted almost sideways on his face. It hadn’t looked like that the morning he’d stood by as his men wrestled her out of her home and stuffed her into the hot, dark trunk.

If she smiled, did it make her a bad person?

Vail opened the door to the cell where her uncle paced. His large black boots thumped on the floor. It amazed her how quietly such a big man could move when he wanted. But there was nothing stealthy about this. He didn’t even bother closing the door.

Carlos Ruez, her blood, her enemy, spat on the ground. “Fuck you, American shit.” Her mom’s eyes widened, but they both knew she’d heard that and worse living at the estate. “I’ll get out. It didn’t work this time, but it will. I have—”

The man she wanted to call Dad more than anything hurled himself across the feet separating them. His fist balled, drew back, and sank into the side of Carlos’s cheek. The waylay cut off his pitiful tirade. He slumped to the floor in a disheveled pile, looking more like a garbage bag on the side of the road than the ringleader of a cartel.

Two men entered the room behind Vail. Both were younger by twenty years, maybe. And they were cute, but not near as good-looking as John Batten. Try as she might she still saw his smile every time she closed her eyes. She’d probably never see him again. Didn’t know what she’d say, if she did, but he was a perfect fantasy boyfriend. The boy who’d been so funny and charming at a time when she’d needed it most.

One of the men dropped a length of rope in the center of the room and then moved to the wall, fastening a piece of metal to the concrete with long screws. The other guy lugged a ladder. He propped it up and climbed to the top. She and her mother both leaned forward. He pulled an eye bolt from his pocket and screwed it into a hole in the ceiling she hadn’t noticed before. The guy on the ground handed up the rope and the one on the ladder looped it through the metal circle.

Wordlessly, Vail caught a roll of duct tape the rope guy tossed and went to work securing her traitorous uncle’s hands behind his back. When he finished he moved to his feet. The wide adhesive bound them together like two Popsicle sticks. As though moving a corpse with no care to its wellbeing, Vail dragged him by the feet to the middle of the room. With a nod he dismissed the other two, looped the rope end around the tape at his ankles, tied it off, and used the long end to hoist the unconscious man into the air.

From beneath his short sleeves his muscles bunched. His face strained. The rope slipped once and Sophie rubbed her hands together, thinking it must have hurt. But he only rearranged his grip and continued to heave. When her uncle reached eye level to Vail—really high in the air—he turned to the cleat on the wall and wound the black rope about the metal. When he stepped back and released the rope she and her mom both gasped, waiting for Carlos’s body to crash to the ground.

She most certainly did not want to see that.

It held.

“You thought it was going to fall,” her mom said.

“You did too.”

“Maybe,” she conceded.

Vail pushed Carlos’s forehead and his body swung slowly. He waltzed around the room. Looking for what, she didn’t know. But when he reached the one-way mirror he turned, kissed the tips of his fingers, and pressed them to the glass.

“So, can I call him Dad?”

“Sophie,” her mother scolded. But then she picked up Sophie’s hand, squeezed, and giggled like no one in an observation room with their heinous brother hanging literally in the balance in the next room had a right to giggle. “I’m sure you can. One day.”

His silver hair flashed in the room’s bright light as he turned and walked back to Carlos. “Good morning, sunshine. Have a good nap?”

“Damn you, Tucker. I’m going to fucking kill you and that whore of a siste—”

Vail’s hand clamped over his throat, choking off his air supply. “You’re going to listen, Carlos. That’s what you’re going to do.” He released him when his face turned light blue.

“You can’t…break me. Beat me all you…want,” he hacked.

“I’m not going to lay another hand on you. I’m here to impart some information and let you make a decision.”

“Screw you,” he yelled in return.

Her mom’s fingers tightened around hers.

“It’s okay, Mom. I’ve heard worse and I know not to repeat what I hear.”

“You’re such a good girl.”

“I do have my moments,” Sophie agreed.

Mom shoved her shoulder.

“Everyone has choices, Carlos. Today you choose your fate. One will send you to prison for the rest of your life. The other will leave you begging for death for weeks on end.” Vail folded his arms and bore his gaze into Carlos. “Tell me what else you’re planning against the Sinaloa with your next breath, or I press record.” His jaw pointed toward the booth that, hanging like he was, her uncle couldn’t see. “I say, ‘This is Carlos Ruez, the man who single-handedly destroyed the Sinaloa Federation.’ I fly you into Sinaloa territory. Deliver you into their hands. And never look back.”

Vail had said he wouldn’t mind seeing the Sinaloa facilities blown to bits, but he wanted to do it. If Carlos did it, he’d only step in where the Sinaloa left off. Just as ruthless, just as deadly, and the transition of power would inevitably claim hundreds of innocent lives. Not to mention their crappy demolition skills would kill just as many unassociated with either organization.

Vail shrugged. “Last chance.”

Silence stretched until Sophie wiggled in her seat, anticipation getting the best of her. Vail didn’t move a muscle. Neither did her mother. A full minute had passed with her uncle swinging back and forth.

Gradually she saw the shift in his demeanor. He drooped like a corpse, losing all tension from his muscles. “I’ve got a stockpile of explosives in the garden house at home.” His voice was harsh and raw. “I’m going to blow the rest of the Sinaloa’s facilities sky high.”

“You were,” Vail corrected. “Now, you’re going to jail until you’re carried out in a body bag.”

H
is team sat
around the table of the conference room, their stoic features showing none of the adrenaline raging through their veins. They were professional. The best of the best. He’d always been a professional. Centered. Unflappable. Until Sophie and Carmen. The need to roar from the rooftops and beat his chest in victory overwhelmed his senses.

“Carlos Hersio-Ruez is still very much a threat. I’ve said it before and I’ll say it one more time. I want him secured first. The explosives second. Take out his men as you go. Your entry is tight. Stick to the plan.

“Your response was impeccable today. The four men you apprehended outside the facility are being processed. Clean up is on target. I spoke with Lieutenant Commander Slaughter. Rhonda is stable in large part thanks to you. Well done. Had you not been so quick to react she’d have bled out on the floor like I almost did last month.”

Vail leaned forward, pressing his hands onto the conference table. He hated this next part. But he loved this job because it was a challenge. Every. Single. Day. He watched their faces. The shift of their eyes. The restlessness in their bodies. The sweat on their brows.

“After the two breaches it’s obvious one among us is a traitor. I honestly don’t know who you are, but this is your one opportunity to come away from this unscathed. You’ll spend the next forty years of your life getting comfortable with your cellmate and the wonders of prison food, but you’ll be alive.

“Wait. Make me ferret you out. I’ll ship you to Cambodia and visit each year to see the advancement of your starvation and gangrene. Make another move against your fellow operatives, and you’ll be a whisper of a memory and nothing more.”

Two sets of eyes saucered in surprise, but most remained neutral, watchful. If his people were half as good as he knew they were, this thought had at least grazed their brains. Dan Arney, The Foot Tapper as Sloan called him, tapped his foot, but there was nothing unusual in it. He’d done it since day one a year and a half ago.

“No one?” He straightened and folded his arms. “Your days of cable and sunlight are slipping through your fingertips.” He shrugged. “I said I didn’t know, and I wouldn’t lie to you. I don’t know. But…someone does.”

With a nod, Carmen walked down the hallway with a slow, measured stride. As she came into view through the clear glass some of his people smiled. Dan’s foot-tapping reached Mach speed. A room full of eyes shifted in the guy’s direction. Across from him, Johnson’s hand moved toward his sidearm.

“Everyone’s hands on the table,” Vail barked. “No one else is getting shot here tonight. It doesn't mean I won’t strangle someone though.”

The young man and his team presented their hands. All but one.

Dan’s gaze jumped around the room like a hen in a fox den. He rubbed his palms together as though trying to wash away his sins. “It was so much money. I…I just couldn’t…”

Vail stopped Carmen’s advance with an imperceptible wave. She nodded and headed back for the break room and Sophie.

“I don’t think you’ll be able to spend it in hell. Oliver and Hunter, relieve Arney of his weapons and secure him in cell two until I can figure out where he’ll vacation. Everyone else, you have your mission. Rely on one another. Execute it. And get your hind quarters back here. There’s always more work to do.”

An ensemble of, ‘Yes, sir’s’ filled the room. He watched the two operatives efficiently divest Dan Arney of his pride, haul him out of the room, and walk him down the hall of horror. The closer they came to the metal door, the more violently the man thrashed.

Choices. It’s all about the decisions we make.

Vail shook several hands on his way out of the conference room. Unlike Dan, his pace increased the closer he drew to his destination. He rounded the jamb to find his girls snuggling on a love seat together, Sophie’s eyes at half-mast. He hated rousing her, but it was time for all of them to go home.

“You got him,” Carmen whispered with a knowing smile.

“Yeah, and Rhonda is going to make a full recovery,” he returned in a hushed tone.

“That’s great news.” Sophie popped up, yawned, and stretched like a little kitten.

“It is,” he agreed.

“What about my father?” Carmen asked.

“A team is en route. Within twenty-four hours you’ll be free and clear of it all.”

She nodded, but her smile fell. “I want to go.”

“No,” Vail and Sophie said in the same vehement tone at the same time.

“It’s my family. My mess,” Carmen explained.

He crossed to his girls, dropped to one knee, and grabbed one of each of their hands in each of his. His gaze focused on Sophie. “Will you have me as your father to love and cherish and protect you, even from your boyfriends?”

She covered her mouth with her tiny fingers. “Yes.” Tears fell from her lashes and onto her cheeks, apple-round with a huge smile.

He kissed her hand and let it drop to warm Carmen’s in both of his. “Carmen,” he breathed. “Marry me? Leave the past where it lies and begin your new life with me. Be my family and let us be yours forever.”

She was quiet for several too-long seconds and his pulse lurched. “Yes,” she whispered.

“Yes?”

“Yes!” A rich laughter sang from her throat. She tugged him close and melded their lips. “Yes,” she mumbled against his mouth.

“I have one request,” Sophie interjected.

“Name it,” Vail said, his face wider than the moon.

“I want a sister…or brother,” she announced. “Maybe one of each,” she added with a thoughtful nod.

“Done,” Vail agreed.

“Oh is it now?” Carmen smiled.

“If it’s not, it will be soon,” he promised.

I
hope
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B
ASE BRANCH NOVELS

ENEMY MINE

JUSTICE MINE

STRANGER MINE

WARRIOR MINE

DANGER MINE - JULY 2015

PRISONER MINE - JANUARY 2016

SURVIVOR MINE - APRIL 2016

B
LACKLIST SERIES

VERSIONS

VIRTUES - 2016

B
UREAU SERIES

FOR ALL TO SEE - APRIL 2015

PAINTED WALLS - OCTOBER 2015

A
NTHOLOGIES

SEX OBJECTS: EROTIC ROMANCE FOR WOMEN - 2015

COWBOY HEAT: WESTERN ROMANCE FOR WOMEN

HIGH OCTANE HEROES: EROTIC ROMANCE FOR WOMEN

WILD AT HEART VOLUME II

O
ne determined to avoid it
. One determined to conquer it. Both on a wayward mission and unable to deny it.

Khani Slaughter has dealt with danger from the day of her conception. Thirty one years dealing with the bullshit and she knows how to attack it, defeat it, and avoid it. Yet, for some unfathomable reason, she gravitates toward it. When you’re the head and sometimes deadly hands of the Base Branch, the special operations force for the United Nations, hazard pervades. Her personal life, though, is restricted territory for trouble. No strings flings. That’s what she went for. Uncomplicated rolls in the sack. That was all she allowed. Or it had been until, the rookie showed up.

Base Branch operative, King Street takes danger and molds it to his benefit. Only, there’s not much advantage in screwing the boss when regret sends her across an ocean. The desire to make her see him for more than a mistake on her and humanity’s part places his wide frame directly in her path.

He is cocky and way too brash. Not at all what she wants. But when her brother goes missing he is who she needs. Someone willing to navigate a wasteland, dodge bullets and her prickly demeanor to help rescue her only family. Just maybe, in the process they can save each other from their painful pasts.