Delta: Revenge (23 page)

“And I’m nowhere, every day. I live off the grid. No home base. A job that could kill me. Where I have to kill to stay alive. And I have one purpose in life right now.”

“I get it. You’re fine. You can stop explaining, Javier.”

“No. You don’t get it. Because never, not one time in the two decades since Adélia was taken, have I
ever
wavered on what I should do, where I go, what I think.”

Sophia’s sad gaze rounded as though something he was about to say could change their reality. That was the opposite intention of his one-sided conversation. He needed to solidify in her mind that they had no business thinking about a coupling of any sort because of logistics and because his focus was screwed up when she was on his mind.

“What I’m trying to say, Sophia, is that I have to concentrate.” His head dropped back, hearing the flatness in his own voice. “I can’t when I’m with you.”

The ceiling was as bare and drab as his heart. Slowly, he took an uneasy breath and brought his stare front and center. There was a flicker of emotion in her eyes, different from the teary irritation and post-fight sadness. It brightened her frown from hurting to uncertain. “I’m in your head?”

“No. Yes. What I’m trying to say is…” The hope that shined in her eyes would be his death. “My team is leaving this second, and I couldn’t walk out the door without coming to see you.”

Sophia blinked, her mouth opening slightly, and Janella’s face softened. He wasn’t saying the right things, wasn’t detailing why they shouldn’t—they shouldn’t
what
? He had no idea. “I just can’t, coração.”

“Can’t?” she repeated softly.

Janella repeated her one-word question, though not softly, but more incredulous and biting.

“You…” A knot lodged in his throat as he searched for an explanation that either of them could understand. “Distract me.”

She didn’t respond, and time ticked. He didn’t want to walk away with her staring at him as though he’d lit a charge that could destroy her smile. Memories like this would rot his insides. “Sophia. The only thing I’m supposed to do is take out the fuckers who hurt my sister. It’s the reason I live for, the reason I have this job.”

“Okay.”

“And when you were in that crowd yesterday? When I couldn’t see you? When I knew you were in trouble and couldn’t get to you fast enough? You were the only thing I wanted to take care of.
You.
Not my sister. Not for Colin’s wishes or my boss’s orders. Not my team.
You.
” He shook his head, scratching his stubbled face. “I just can’t.”

Sophia hopped off the counter, taking two steps so they were face-to-face, then her hand rose as she poked him in the chest. “You chickenshit
bastard
.”

“Wh-what?”

“God!”

“Soph—”

She slammed her hand against his chest. “Get out of here. Don’t throw your loss or my brother in my face. Don’t you
dare
say something like that as a reason you can’t do
this
. Whatever
this
is.” Her hand went back and forth between them. “Because whatever this is, I felt it. And you did too. So screw you for playing it up then playing it down.”

“I—” He had no response. No idea. No clue how to deal with the tension in his shoulders and the ache in his eyes.

“Go away, Javier.”

“Yo, Brazil,” Brock yelled from another room with timing that couldn’t have been worse. “We gotta roll.”

“
Go,
” Sophia snapped.

“Paixão.”

She flexed her fingers and straightened her arms as though exasperated with him. “Just
Sophia
. No more cute names, no more sweet words. No more of any of that.”

“Brazil! Now.” Brock’s muffled voice echoed through the wall.

Javier didn’t have a choice but to follow after his team leader. “Okay.” Taking one last look at what he hoped wasn’t his biggest mistake, he slammed a fist against the wall and walked away.

CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

Sophia’s nightmare shook the walls, the bed. She couldn’t place whatever she’d been dreaming about, but it had come crashing down with vibration and an alarm. She thrashed, a light sheen of sweat soaking the covers with a mix of anxiety and dreamful fears.

The booming growl of an explosion hit too close to her bedroom. Wait—what? The faint scent of smoke made her skin prickle. Sophia sat up in bed, panting and blinking into the night as the wailing of a second alarm started. Another flash lit her room from the tiny window she’d been barred from perching in. And then more lights and booms. Growls.

Holy crap. They were under an attack.

Was it because of the intel leaks or Delta? But Delta was gone. Okay, think! She needed to get to safety. They’d drilled on these things; she knew what to do and where to go. This was so real, though. Adrenaline flooded her veins, and her mind was clear as suddenly each noise became distinct: different alarms and the return fire of the stationed guards.

But gunshots and grenade blasts versus whatever had attacked the embassy? The embassy didn’t have massive manpower, especially after Delta left. The men downstairs were screwed. Done. Soon to be dead.

Think.
She needed to—

Another rattle came as the books on her shelf clattered to the floor. Shit. Sophia rolled out of bed, one arm over her head, another one catching her fall. Protocol for attacks had been instilled in her since she was a child, traveling around the world with her family. She should’ve known better. So much for adrenaline-fueled clarity. Those thirty seconds of frozen fear in her bed could’ve cost her life.

Staying down and crawling to her closet, she ignored the explosions outside the embassy buildings and pushed to grab a helmet and a mask that she never expected to need as another blast hit the building.

The scent of smoke, no longer faint, carried through the air vents. Something close by was on fire, and she needed to get to the safe room. Why hadn’t any of the armed guards been to her room yet? Easy answer: they were busy. This wasn’t a drill, and Sophia needed to get her ass in gear.

Keeping low, she covered her face with the mask, praying to God there weren’t chemical weapons in play, and then pulled on the hat and tied the chin strap. Another blast rocked the building like an earthquake.

She put her palm to the doorknob, testing for heat, and carefully turned the cool metal. The hallway was dark. They had generators to keep from having outages, but not even the emergency lights blinked. Janella’s room was to the left, and the way to the safe room was on the right, down the stairs closest to Jensen and Brackster’s bedroom suites.

Sophia ran to Janny’s closed door, slamming her fists hard. “Janny!”

No answer.

“Janella!”

There was no way that she would’ve passed Sophia’s closed door and not checked to make sure she was moving. What time was it? Janny woke up far earlier than Sophia, and maybe she was in the kitchen or the laundry. Both were near the safe room. Where was everyone? God!

“Hello?” She needed someone she recognized to appear for a moment of reassurance. But there was nothing. The place was like a ghost town under attack.

Sophia ran toward the stairs, and another blast hit, throwing her off balance. The hits were powerful, like grenades or bombs. The intensity level was far past a gunfight.

Didn’t intel see it coming? Why weren’t they more on guard, and why did Delta leave?

“Hello?” There was no response in the growling darkness except for another shake of the very stout building. It tossed her up, and Sophia stumbled on the stairs. Her shoulder slammed, biting into the wall, and her grip slipped. The face mask went up, and her helmet went down. Vision obscured, Sophia fell. The edge of each stair bit into her as gravity tugged her down. Her face smashed as she came to a stop.

Stomach swirling, pain spinning—everything hurt. Blood seeped into her mouth. Her cheekbones ached as much as her body stung and cried silently for help. Empty, airless lungs made her mind rush in panic, and each limb was bruised, scraped, and maybe broken.

Coughing, she gasped as oxygen reinflated her lungs. “God. Help me.”

For a moment, all she could hear was the wail of the warning sirens. The blare bounced off the walls. She tried pushing up. Her throbbing wrist was of little use, and her elbow screamed in pain.

Sophia coughed and swallowed awkwardly. Her ribs hurt as she wheezed in the acrid air. Where were the people who were supposed to protect them?

A loud, close bang hit the front door. Her head jolted up, her eyes narrowing on the locked, reinforced door. Words she couldn’t decipher shouted on the other side. Whoever was out there had passed the gates and the guards and was physically trying to enter.

She needed help. She needed Javier.

For a long moment, she knew he would be the man behind the door. There was no doubt that the shouts she didn’t understand would stop because he would protect her. She knew without a doubt that Javier was a superhero who could arrive in the nick of time and wipe out the bad guys—lift her up, heal her injuries, shield her from the hell of being in a blacked out, siren-screaming embassy under attack when she had yet to see
anyone
else, either staff or soldier.

Fear made her shiver. But the high-pitched shouts that she heard behind the blaring alarm struck her as different. They were excited but backing away—damn it, they were going to blast the door. Why wasn’t Javier here?

Oh, to hell with him; he didn’t matter. Sophia pushed through pain and half stumbled, half fled down the hall toward the kitchen, gasping and coughing. “Janny!”

No one responded. She moved through the pantry area, still watching for her friend. No light reached back there.

Sophia tripped, slamming to the ground. Everything hurt. Her head spun, and as she yelled and kicked at what had taken her down, she heard Janny’s hoarse voice pleading to be left alone, to be given help. Her breaths were fast, her gasps loud enough that Sophia could hear them in between the beats of wailing alarms.

“Janny.” She bit her lip as she crawled into the darkness, reaching her friend. “What’s the matter?”

“Oh, Lord.” Gasp. “Sophia.” Gasp. “This isn’t good.”

Shit. “Are you hurt?”

Did she fall? Was she hit on the head, or had something broken her ribs? Janella was heavier, older, and not nearly in the kind of shape that she needed to be in. That was part of her charm but also part of why she couldn’t move.

“Chest.”

“Something hit you?” But with the commotion and the mask, no one would be able to hear her.

“My.” Janny sucked a deep, painful breath. “Chest.”

“Your chest?” Oh, shit. “
Your chest.
”

“Yes.”

She pulled up the mouth piece to make sure Janny heard her. “You’re not having a heart attack, Janella. No, ma’am.”

“If you—ah—say so—”

Okay. Whatever they had to do, they couldn’t sit in the dark in the pantry. They needed to get to the safe room, where there was a medical kit. Surely there was something in their supplies that would help—aspirin to start with or glycerin. Whatever they gave heart patients for pulmonary distress.

A loud explosion ripped into the front of the building. The front door would be breached soon if it wasn’t hanging on hinges already. Sophia ripped her gas mask down, taking the risk and needing to communicate. “We have to get to the safe room.”

Janny nodded, hearing the same thing and coming to the same conclusion. Sophia grabbed Janny’s sweat-soaked body and hooked under her armpits, tugging and lifting, grunting through the muffled groans of pain. Janella didn’t budge.

“Go.” The order came out as a gasped whisper.

Sophia pushed her weight into Janella, acting as a human fulcrum. “Like hell. Get up.”

“Soph—” Gasp. “—ia.”

“Shut up and try, damn it.”

Sweat poured down Janella’s face. Fear and pain, exertion and desperation made her shake. Janella leaned into Sophia, and together, they gritted through their agony, growling their intention to survive.

“Ain’t good,” Janny mumbled.

“It’ll be okay.” The only other option was to die, and there was no way that was happening today.

Between their arms and the walls, they managed to round the corner of the dark hall, heaving and breathing on their fight to the safe room.

“Almost there, Janny. Come on, honey.”

Janella grunted a response. They had ten feet to go—just a few yards, but it seemed like miles.

The access panel was next to the hidden door of the safe room, which was more like a safe bunker; it could be entered via a keypad on a separate power source. So even if the lights were out and the ventilation system stopped working, they could still get inside and safely stay put until the all clear was given.

“Here we are.” Sophia leaned an arm onto the reinforced door, sweating and exhausted. Her trembling hand punched in the code, and the red light flicked to green. A pressurized release sounded, and she tugged the door open.