Blaze of Glory (17 page)

Thank
goodness,
because
she
felt
the
same,
a
bundling
mass
of
nerves
tingling
from
the
amazing
orgasm
and greedy
for
more.

He
braced
on
his
elbows,
the
head
of
his
penis
just
touching
between
her
passionswollen
lips.
Her treacherous
mind
chose
that
second
to
reengage
and
remember
the
size
and
feel
of
him
in
her
hand
earlier.

“Shh,”
he
soothed
against
her
ear.

Wild
and
rowdy
Bobby,
so
focused
on
this
moment
she
lay
amazed
again.
He
eased
his
way
into
the
clasp of
her
body—no
rush,
no
push
or
pain,
just
a
slow
and
sexy
stretch
as
she
accommodated,
accepted.

Welcomed.

Eyes
open,
he
stared
down
into
her
eyes,
connecting
emotionally
as
well
as
physically,
boundaries
dropping in
a
way
she
never
would
have
expected
but
embraced
all
the
same.
All
the
intensity
she’d
seen
lassoed inside
himself
poured
into
her
stroke
after
stroke
after
soulrending
thrust.

How
could
she
have
been
so
wrong
about
him?
She’d
expected
shallow
and
fun
sex
without
any
true connection.
The
realization
of
how
she’d
misjudged
him
shook
her
as
deeply
as
the
driving
force
of
their bodies
rocking
together,
harder,
faster.
And,
oh,
she
was
going
to
finish
soon,
too
soon
after
being
so
long without
the
real
deal.

He
smoothed
her
hair
back
from
her
face.
“Shh…it’s
okay.
We’ll
go
again.
And
again.
You
can
let
go
now.

There’s
more.”

“More,”
she
breathed
into
his
mouth,
urging
her
hips
up
to
roll
against
his,
finding
just
the
right
angle
to wring…

More.

She
arched,
the
power
of
so
much
more
searing
through
her,
pulling
a
gasp,
a
cry
from
deep
inside
her.

He
sealed
his
mouth
to
hers,
swallowing
the
sounds
into
himself
as
she
took
him
inside
herself,
throbbing, his
growl
of
completion
mingling
with
hers
as
finally,
finally
after
nine
months
of
waiting,
release
tore through
them
both,
leaving
her
shaking
in
the
aftermath,
trembling
with
aftershocks.

He
rolled
onto
his
side,
gathering
her
close
as
they
both
panted.
Hot
and
ohso
sweet.
She
would
certainly need
a
few
minutes
before
she
could
go
for
more.
Right
now
she
could
barely
breathe,
just
tingle.

And
realize
she’d
deluded
herself.
This
wasn’t
a
fling.
So
much
more
emotion
swirled
through
her
than she’d
expected,
more
than
she
could
handle,
turmoil
that
threatened
every
orderly
corner
of
her
life
she’d structured
in
a
desperate,
driving
need
to
be
the
opposite
of
her
father.

She
was
scared,
flatout
terrified
to
wade
deeper
into
these
waters
with
Bobby,
that
could
be
beautiful
or lead
her
into
a
loss
of
control,
a
pool
of
liquid
nails
if
she
fell
apart.
What
she’d
planned
to
be
a
wonderful release
to
bolster
her
for
the
stress
of
tomorrow’s
mission
had
only
served
to
make
her
all
the
more
shaky.

Now
she
could
only
lie
in
Bobby’s
arms.

And
shiver
with
the
knowledge
of
time
ticking
until
tomorrow,
when
she
would
have
to
face
whatever waited
at
the
end
of
the
flight
into
the
university
research
center.

NIGHTVISION
GOGGLESheavy
over
his
helmet,
Bobby
scanned
the
jungle
ahead,
looking
for
trouble.

This
was
a
mission,
not
a
test
run.
The
stakes
were
higher,
their
options
limited.
Aborting
the
flight
would
be far
too
costly.
With
only
a
short
time
to
plan
the
ingress
route
and
pick
a
drop
zone,
things
were
bound
to
go, well,
not
wrong
exactly,
but
not
to
plan.

Quite
frankly,
he
didn’t
trust
himself
as
much
as
usual
tonight.
Being
with
Gracie
had
shaken
something loose
inside
him
the
night
before
and
he
hadn’t
yet
figured
out
how
to
realign
the
crazyass
parts
of
himself again.

Beyond
the
mindblowing
orgasms—and
yes,
he’d
used
all
three
condoms,
while
adding
some
inventive other
means
of
release
as
well—he’d
enjoyed
sharing
the
pineapple
with
her
afterward.
Okay,
Dr.
Priss wanted
to
make
sure
he’d
washed
the
knife
since
he
killed
the
snake,
because
otherwise
she
wasn’t
having anything
to
do
with
his
carved
fruit.

They’d
laughed
together
afterward
as
they
lay
tangled
and
sweaty
in
each
other’s
arms.
That
was
huge
for him.
So
damn
intimate
it
screwed
with
his
head
and
that
wasn’t
good
right
now.

Would
his
risks
be
the
correct
ones?
Or
was
he
too
offkilter
to
make
the
wise
decisions?
He
thought
about turning
over
the
controls
to
Face,
but
then
that
posed
a
problem.
Face
had
prepped
to
ride
copilot
and
Bobby knew
this
part
of
the
mission.
Sure
they
could
fly
for
each
other,
but
they
would
be
most
effective
in
the preplanned
roles.

Hang
tough
and
keep
mindblowing
thoughts
of
naked,
pliant
Gracie
tucked
away.

Tough
to
do
with
her
sitting
in
the
back
with
the
Delta
boys,
slated
to
sneak
into
the
compound
and
retrieve the
secret
agent
and
her
father.
Once
Gracie
explained
her
father’s
possible
emotional
meltdown,
General Renshaw
had
agreed
they
needed
the
American
brain
out
of
there
and
Gracie
could
make
the
positive
ID.

Great.

Could
this
night
suck
any
worse?

How
would
he
keep
from
worrying
about
her
in
there
while
he
tooled
around
the
skies
waiting
to
pick
them up
and
hoping
he
wouldn’t
get
his
butt
shot
off
while
waiting?

His
edgy
crew
scouted
for
what
he
liked
to
think
of
as
derailers,
events
that
would
derail
the
plan
and
make them
pull
their
butts
out
of
the
fire.
He
knew
it
was
coming.
No
plan
ever
survived
first
contact
with
the enemy.
Seemed
that
he’d
had
to
memorize
a
quote
like
that
in
some
militaryeducation
class
he
attended
at some
point.

“Keep
an
eye
out,
boys,
my
spidey
sense
is
tingling,”
he
said
over
the
interphone.

On
cue,
a
bright
light
flooded
the
cockpit
from
the
left
side.
A
voice
in
the
back,
Stones,
yelled
out,

“Incoming,
break
right.”

Bobby
yanked
the
plane
into
a
hard
turn
as
a
flash
passed
in
front
of
the
windscreen
and
out
of
sight.

“Simple
university
retreat,
my
ass.”

No
university
kept
security
like
that
around.

Sandman
in
the
back
hollered,
“Headsup,
rear
gunner.
It
came
from
a
bunch
of
rocks
by
a
stream.” Rear
gunner
Stones
responded,
“I
got
the
rocks
and
some
hot
spots
in
my
goggles.
Oh
yeah,
I
can
see
where the
shot
came
from.”

“You
are
cleared
to
engage
if
you
have
a
threat
back
there,
guns,”
Bobby
said
from
up
front.

“Roger
that,
I
have
a
target.
Fucker
is
reloading
an
RPG.
Engaging.” The
minigun
on
the
open
rear
deck
spit
flames
and
7.62mm
rounds
into
the
night,
a
tail
of
fire.
The
sound
of the
twothousandroundsperminute
minigun
always
reminded
Bobby
of
the
old
Bronx
cheer.
“Target down,
pilots.
Press
on.”

Well,
that
little
engagement
was
a
pain
in
the
butt,
but
not
really
a
planchanging
problem.
Just
a
reminder that
things
in
that
compound
were
every
bit
as
treacherous
as
they’d
suspected.

Bobby
paged
through
screens
on
his
multifunctional
displays.
“All
systems
green
and
still
on
time,
everyone.

Get
those
snake
eaters
in
the
back
ready
to
go,
Chief.
We
are
about
five
minutes
out
of
the
landing
zone.” He
glanced
over
his
shoulder
and
saw
the
snatch
team
in
the
back
standing
up
checking
their
equipment.

Gracie
looked
so
small
compared
to
the
badasses
they
were
getting
ready
to
drop
off
in
a
jungle
clearing.

How
in
the
hell
could
they
let
her
go
with
them?
Probably
thought
that
they
would
eventually
lose
the argument
or
she
would
stow
away
in
someone’s
ammo
pouch.
He
turned
his
head
forward
again
and
got back
to
business,
his
mind
clear
and
focused.

Yeah,
right.

“Two
minutes
out.
Get
ready.
Start
slowing
down.
You
should
see
the
road
at
twelve…right—
Now!
You got
it?”

Face
leaned
forward
and
peered
through
his
nightvision
goggles.
“I
got
the
road
in
the
NVGs.
Looks
clear.

You
got
anything
on
the
infrared?”

“The
road
is
clear.
We
are
in
transition.”
The
craft
slowed
down
as
the
props
rose
from
airplane
to
helicopter mode.
“This
is
the
place.”

Shifting
the
wing
rotors
from
forward
to
upward,
they
settled
helicopterstyle
onto
the
road
and
slowed
the props
to
lessen
the
blast
on
the
exiting
soldiers.

“Get
them
out
of
here,
Chief,”
Bobby
said
to
the
crewman
responsible
for
taking
care
of
the
troops
until
they were
off
the
airplane.

He
could
almost
feel
the
lightening
of
the
craft
as
he
watched
them
stream
out,
as
Gracie
left,
and
yet
he knew
that
was
impossible.
Maybe
it
was
some
funky
woohoo
sense
within
him
that
wanted
to
send
a
part of
himself
with
her.
She
was
a
trained
officer,
sure,
but
this
was
Special
Ops
shit
beyond
her
level
of expertise.
Those
Delta
dudes
had
better
stick
to
her
like
glue.

Both
pilots
scanned
forward
of
the
aircraft
while
the
gunners
searched
the
jungle
on
either
side.

“All
clear,
sir,”
Stones
said,
calm
as
you
please,
like
always.
“You
can
get
us
out
of
here.” The
CV22
lifted
off
the
ground
and
rose
above
the
jungle,
slowly
transitioning
the
rotors
to
forward
flight.

Postal
punched
up
their
next
destination
on
the
MFD.
“Come
right
to
twothreefive
degrees.
Keep
your eyes
peeled,
boys.
We
have
three
more
landings
to
make.
Hopefully
that
will
mask
where
we
dropped
off the
team.”

He
had
a
job
to
do.
Emotions
had
no
place
here.
He
couldn’t
think
of
Gracie
inside
that
compound.
He needed
to
keep
his
crew
and
craft
safe
so
they
could
get
her
when
this
mission
was
complete,
because
damn it,
she
was
coming
out
of
there
alive.

CHAPTER
THIRTEEN

NIGHT
JUNGLE
SOUNDSall
around
her,
Grace
Marie
stuck
close
behind
the
mountainous
man
in
black, her
protector
on
this
mission.
She
was
having
major
doubts
about
the
wisdom
of
following
her
heart
into
this place.
No
wonder
it
took
years
to
build
those
special
operators
with
ice
water
in
their
veins.

Her
veins
were
pumping
lavahot
fear
and
she
was
a
seasoned
combat
vet,
yet
in
a
different
field.
An experience
like
this
made
her
all
the
more
determined
to
make
the
most
of
her
skills
to
soften
the
enemy.

The
soldier
in
front
of
her
halted
and
held
up
a
clenched
fist.
The
signal
for
stop.
She
stood
as
still
as
the
ten others
in
the
wooded
area
outside
the
perimeter
walls
of
the
compound.
Grace
Marie
gripped
her
M4

Carbine
so
tightly
in
her
bloodless
grasp
she
thought
it
might
snap
in
half.
The
soldier
worked
some
kind
of electronic
magic
and
a
small
back
gate
swung
open.
She
held
her
breath.

No
alarms.

No
dogs.

The
team
leader’s
arm
came
down
and
they
began
to
move
again
onto
the
grounds
of
the
campus.
They crouched
behind
service
vehicles,
altogether
forming
a
circle
with
everyone
facing
out
from
the
middle.
The point
man
slipped
away
toward
the
set
of
buildings
that
intel
said
held
their
targets.

Fifteen
heartpounding
minutes
later,
the
point
man
returned
from
his
recon
but
to
Grace
Marie
it
seemed more
like
fifteen
hours.

Finally,
the
point
man
slipped
back
into
the
circle
and
whispered
into
the
team
leader’s
ear
while
gesturing toward
a
building.
The
team
leader’s
voice
carried
through
the
earbud
secured
into
Gracie’s
ear.
“All
righty, we
have
a
way
in.
No
hurry
and
be
smart.
Lots
of
good
shadows
to
work
through
on
the
way
there.

Ma’am,”
he
addressed
Grace
Marie,
“stick
tight
to
Smitty
until
we
call
for
you
to
come
forward
and
make the
ID.”

Grace
Marie
clicked
her
talk
switch
twice
to
signify
she
understood.

The
group
of
twelve
worked
their
way
over
to
the
door
that
the
point
man
had
managed
to
finesse
open.
The team
slipped
into
the
building
and
established
a
small
perimeter
near
their
entrance.
The
troops
pulled
out handheld
sensors
that
could
see
heat—body
shapes—through
walls
and
began
to
search
for
rooms
with people
in
them.

Each
device
was
interfaced
with
a
small
computer
that
would
give
information
about
the
target
heat
source such
as
height
and
weight
of
a
target,
male
or
female.
The
snake
eaters
had
all
the
cool
toys.
She
would
have to
mention
that
to
the
powers
that
be
once
she
got
out
of
here.

And
shewould
get
out
of
here,
damn
it,
and
promptly
haul
Bobby
to
the
first
private
place
she
could
locate and
let
off
some
steam
with
screaming
sex.

Her
microphone
clicked,
and
she
heard
one
of
the
soldiers
reporting
that
he
had
found
a
room
with
an individual
about
the
right
size
in
the
second
corridor
where
earlier
reports
had
said
the
agent
bunked,
but there
were
two
people
in
the
room.
The
team
moved
to
secure
the
area
with
the
target
until
they
could
decide what
to
do.
Damn,
they
could
only
take
so
many
people
out
of
here
and
keep
them
quiet,
under
control.

The
team
leader
keyed
up
his
mike.
“We
have
to
make
a
move
here
soon.
We’ll
have
to
take
our
target
and whoever
else
is
in
there
as
well.
I
think
we
can
probably
do
this
with
no
noise
if
we
move
quicklike.
I
want Miller
and
Romeo
up
here
with
me.
We
are
going
to
go
in
fast,
put
both
people
on
the
floor
before
they know
we’re
there.
Fast
and
quiet
and
make
sure
they
don’t
let
out
so
much
as
a
squeak.
Tighten
up
the perimeter,
everyone.”

Gracie
followed
her
babysitter
down
the
hall
and
took
a
knee
outside
the
room
with
the
target.
She
watched as
one
of
the
soldiers
picked
the
lock
on
the
room
and
nodded
to
the
others.
He
held
up
three
fingers
and
got a
nod
of
understanding
from
the
team.
He
put
one
hand
on
the
doorknob
and
held
up
a
clenched
fist
with
the other.
Gracie
held
her
breath
while
the
trooper’s
fingers
went
up
onetwothree.
The
door
flung
open
and they
burst
inside.
Gracie
looked
in
as
a
kissing
couple
came
apart
and
were
taken
down
by
the
two
special operators.

Holy
crap!

That
was
her
father
kissing
a
flamboyant
woman
with
their
hands
shoved
up
each
other’s
clothes.
Her absentminded
professor
dad
was
making
his
way
toward
a
mattress
with
their
target.
The
spy
for
the
United Nation’s
IAEA—International
Atomic
Energy
Agency.
A
woman
wearing
a
skintight
red
dress
and
spiky heels
that
could
put
out
a
person’s
eye.

Well,
hehad
been
kissing
a
woman
with
wild
hair
and
the
reddest
lipstick
Grace
Marie
had
ever
seen—also smeared
on
her
dad’s
collar.

Right
now
her
dad
was
facetoface
with
the
carpet,
a
special
operator’s
knee
in
his
back.
Another
secured the
woman
to
the
ground
as
well
with
gags,
plastic
cuffs
and
no
noise.

These
guys
were
good.

And
alert.

She
nodded
and
confirmed.
“My
father.”

At
the
whisper
of
her
voice,
her
old
man
jerked
on
the
floor,
then
went
compliant.
She
was
feeling
damn lucky—shocked,
but
lucky.
They
weren’t
going
to
have
to
search
for
her
father
after
all.
They
could
slink right
back
out.
The
university
would
never
suspect
a
military
intervention.

Dropped
clues
would
lead
those
in
charge
here
to
assume
a
latenight
walk
had
gone
bad.
Big
snake
and
a snack.
It
happened.
Ugh.