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Authors: Jennifer Kacey

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“Arms dealers from France. Ant’s identified a lot of the guests. More arms dealers, drug smugglers, and human traffickers in one place than we’ve ever seen.” Grim news.

“What about Red Wolf?” She made short work of her clothes and left them in a pile before stepping under the water. The icy chill was replaced by swiftly warming hotel shower water. Not enough bracing to cool her already overheated flesh.

“Your guy is the only lead we have left.” He made it sound like an apology. While she appreciated the sympathy, she didn’t want it. “Coyle was a hit. A very professional one. The room was wiped down. Even the prostitute he was with didn’t hear anything. She’s not lying. I got a chance to watch the interrogation tapes.”

Copper didn’t have to ask how. They needed the information, so they’d found a way. “No leads on who?”

“No, but I have a theory.” Cobalt folded his arms. “I think he was expendable, and Red Wolf eliminated him.”

The hot water did nothing for the chill in her veins. Gabriel had been in the building. Just because she ran into him downstairs didn’t mean he hadn’t had time to eliminate Coyle before finding her in the lobby. It would also explain why he’d followed her and continued to play the game.

She stepped out of the shower and wrapped a towel around herself, then cut a look at Cobalt. “What does Chrome want us to do?”

Prepared for the order to take Gabriel down, she reached for a brush. Wet hair would braid faster.

“Something else is going on with all those people in this building at the same time. Chrome wants to know what it is. So, you’re still on point…”

She met Cobalt’s cautious gaze via the mirror. “But?”

“You’re off Danvers.”

Corporals didn’t question the orders of a Staff Sergeant. Chrome said she was off, so she was off. Ignoring the sinking sensation in the pit of her stomach, she slammed the lid on the box of her emotions and nodded. “Good plan. Once I get changed, I’ll go over the info you’ve already gathered. We can split them up and see what we can see.”

A hint of relief crossed his eyes, but he nodded. “Sounds good. Hungry?”

“Starving.”

“I’ll get us food. We’ll need it.”

After he left her to use the phone, she braced her hands on the counter and bowed her head.
Done.
She was off Danvers. He wasn’t her problem or her decision anymore. Let the fucking chips fall where they may.

 

They spent the first day of the conference circling the sharks. Armed with Ant’s info, they eliminated a third of the guests as attending for their stated reason of international commerce. Their targets, however, held a lot of side meetings. Clever, really, negotiating illegal trade, terrorist deals, and arms sales under the auspices of international commerce. They qualified, didn’t they?

Cobalt’s French arms dealer liked poker, and he liked Copper’s boobs. They used that to their advantage. Gabriel remained in residence, however, like a hunter on the edge of her periphery. He always seemed to be
there
. Plat had him or Merc, sometimes both. She didn’t know and refused to focus on that aspect.

During one game, the French arms dealer invited her and Cobalt to his room for a little
play
. Gabriel had been close enough to overhear, and the dark look he’d sent her way warned of danger. Defiance surged through her. She had a fucking job to do, and he needed to deal. Rising from Cobalt’s lap, she’d slipped over to sit on the Frenchman’s.

It took no time at all to copy his phone. Limited data availability within the conference areas meant she’d have to head out to get it uploaded, but they made a point of gathering all the data they could. Elsewhere in the building, Merc would get into their rooms, search their things, and get a feel for who was traveling with who. Chrome had a bad feeling about the situation.

It was enough for them.

Copper didn’t care for some of the negotiations she caught on the periphery. Worse, Gabriel moved in and around the crowd like he belonged. When she engaged a Saudi businessman in conversation, Gabriel joined. Excusing herself to tackle a Sicilian mafia boss, he again crowded her space. Language skills didn’t defeat him, either. So far, she’d learned he spoke Japanese, Italian, French, Greek, and Farsi.

Apparently the only language he didn’t speak was fuck off.

“I need to talk to you,” he said after she breezed from one meeting hall to the next. In an around all the ‘conference’ panels, meetings were taking place. She’d already pinpointed two arms sales and at least one white slavery trading meeting set for after the conference. The information would go directly to Chrome.

“I do not speak English,” she told him in Japanese.

“We did this already,” he reminded her, his Japanese flawless. The man needed to have something wrong with him. Perhaps his bulldog persistence
was
his flaw.

Cobalt stood as she angled her path to intercept him. He cut his gaze toward the hallway and showed her three fingers. Backup was on its way. Nodding her understanding, she left the conference area and headed for a hallway leading to catering—apparently.

“You can keep running. I told you, I’m only going to continue following.” At the first curve, she turned the corner. Merc slammed his shoulder into Gabriel’s chest and sent him back two feet. Hesitating a half step, she glanced back in time to see Gabriel rebound as his furious gaze collided Merc’s. Plat stepped into the hallway behind him.

Her heart ached.

Orders were orders—but, dammit.

“Don’t hurt him Merc. If you can help it.” Whether her oldest friend heard or not, she had no idea. Blowing out a breath, she continued on her way. They needed to close the books on this mission, bring it home and bury it.

Let’s just hope I’m not burying Gabriel, too.

Dammit, she shouldn’t be this invested. Shutting that shit down because it was the only way to do her job, she worked on divorcing those feelings. Maybe she’d go somewhere and become a nun for a while after the case. Better, a grade school teacher. How hard could the life of an elementary school teacher be?

Focused on all the people she could become, she ignored the aching woman walking away from a man she could quite possibly love.

 

 

Gabriel exhaled around the bruise on his chest. The man hit like a professional linebacker. Behind the tank blocking his path, Copper missed a single step then kept walking. She’d led him right out of the conference and into a faceoff with—he studied the man in front of him. Scars coated the left side of his face, leaving it twisted and emotionless. The unsettling effect only enhanced the distinctly unfriendly look on the right side of his face.

Copper’s accomplice in Nigeria.This is the man she’s with?
She’d said she wasn’t with anyone, but the menace rolling off this guy had nothing to do with business. The feeling of being watched and movement behind him increased. So his interrogators were both here.

Flexing his hands, he considered his options. They’d chosen the narrowest part of the hallway, away from the access doors. The noise level from the conference section was greatly diminished and chances were sound wouldn’t carry. He had a gun, but once he pulled it, he’d have to be efficient and leave without getting caught on the five hundred or so cameras everywhere else in the building.

“Easy or hard, Danvers?” Cold challenge in the gravelly voice.
Merc.

“Considering you already sucker punched me once in the back of the head, we’ll go with hard.” Anger stiffened his stance. Despite the scars and hostility, the man moved with purpose. He would not go down easily. Gabriel could only imagine the other man behind him was equally well trained. “You could go easier on yourself,” he offered. “Walk away, leave Copper to me, and don’t bother her again.”

No emotion flashed in the cool dead eyes staring at him. The scant seconds let Gabriel spot the fire extinguisher, blunt force and blinding opportunity all rolled into one. Copper proved to him she was dangerous and, while he’d been expecting the fight with her, he’d also trusted she didn’t want to hurt him.

Merc? This guy would inflict damage.

“Time’s up.” Despite his size, Merc moved fast. The fist coming at his head couldn’t be avoided, so Gabriel got his arm raised to block the blow. Pain burst in his forearm, then spread out like numbness. A hit slammed into him from behind. He split his knuckles driving his fist into Merc’s scarred face and barely avoided another punch to the side of his head.

They were going for speed and takedown. His specialty was avoidance and swift strikes. Merc’s was apparently power and decimation. Two arms locked around his shoulders, and he jammed his forearm up to break the chokehold. Using the man’s grip for leverage, he aimed a kick at Merc’s head. A door slammed in the hallway and they halted.

Footsteps shuffled toward them and not one of them breathed. The steps moved away. Before they could resume, a cell phone rang and the arms around him tightened with threat. “Stay.”

Merc’s angry slash of an expression grew more dour as he took one step back and pulled out his phone. “What?”

A camera with a red light blinked at Gabriel, and he stared at it.

“No, he chose the hard way.” A pause, then Merc held the phone toward him. “Let him go. Chrome wants to speak to him.”

Chrome? Copper? What was with the fascination with metal? Wiping the blood from his lip, Gabriel stepped away from his captor and eyed the six-foot plus blond with eyes as cold as Merc’s. Copper really needed new friends.

“This is Gabriel Danvers,” he said into the phone. “Who the fuck is this?”

“This is the man who can order them to put a bullet in your head, Mr. Danvers.” Nothing kind lived in the hard tone on the other end of the phone. He didn’t have to check, but when he did, it didn’t surprise Gabriel to find two weapons pointed at him. They had the advantage now.

Likely had it all along.

“I’m listening,” he told the mysterious Chrome.

“Then listen carefully. If you lie to me, it will be the last lie you tell.” He didn’t wait for Gabriel to acknowledge his threat. “Why are you in Las Vegas?”

“I’d planned to attend this conference regardless.” He’d even mentioned it to his class. “The other reason I’m here is classified and likely above your pay grade.”

“Then read me in.”

Impossible. He didn’t know the man, his credentials or why he should trust him. “I’m afraid you’re going to have to shoot me,” he said. “I’m not in the habit of sharing classified data with strangers, especially not strangers running black ops missions within the U.S.”

“Mr. Danvers, according to your file, you walked away from the company because you disagreed with their tactics and dissemination of intel.” No way he had his file. “You walked away, but now you’re involved again. Read me in or we’re taking you out.”

“If you plan to shoot me regardless, why the game?”

Silence met the question. “Because Copper doesn’t want you dead. She thinks you can be an asset. Prove her right.”

If she really thought that, why wasn’t she here? Either they were handing him a line of bullshit or his sexy little Marine was still following orders, whether she was active duty or not. Every Jarhead he’d ever met was hardcore, in or out of the uniform.

“An old case file of mine became active. I wanted to check it out. Nothing more. Nothing less.”

“So you’re not there for her or to set her up?” The guarded question carried a great deal of weight. Did they really care? Or did they want to use her as leverage?

The scarred man stared at him with deadly intensity. If looks could kill, Gabriel expected he would be six feet under. “She’s none of your fucking business.” He told the asshole on the phone.

“Interesting. Give the phone back to Merc.”

He held the phone out and waited. Merc accepted the device. The other man’s gun never wavered. The icy cone of quiet around his second, unnamed assailant proved more unnerving than scar face’s taciturn stare.

“Got it,” Merc said, then hung the phone up. “Lucky day for you, Mr. Danvers. Plat is going to escort you from this building. He’s going to put you in a car and take you somewhere to sit this out. Cooperate and you’ll get there in one piece.”

“And if I don’t cooperate?” No way in hell was he leaving Copper behind. The damn conference was packed with terrorists, gun runners and white slavers—one of whom practically salivated over her. “I’m not leaving her alone in there.”

“She’s not alone,” Merc told him, then slammed him into the wall. “You get the right to exert authority when she gives it. Until then, you have a little more shut the fuck up and cooperate. She wanted you alive, but you can live with a few broken bones.”

“Do you have any idea what’s going on in there?” He could fight. They’d already said they didn’t want to kill him, though they didn’t promise they wouldn’t. If it were just him and Merc, he’d take that risk. But cool and steady continued to keep the gun pointed at him with an almost bored air.

“I know you following her is going to fuck things up for her.” They didn’t try to restrain him, but they weren’t letting him go either. “Cooperate. If you care as much as you’re pretending, do this
for
her.”

Fine, he would cooperate for as long as necessary to get free of them. With exaggerated care, he motioned to Merc to lead the way. Sooner or later, they’d have to hide the guns unless they—Merc detoured straight to a service elevator.
Fuck.

Gabriel concentrated on measuring his opportunities. Folding his arms, he tapped his foot while they waited for the elevator to open. “You know if you were less ugly and he spoke more, you two could be twins.”

The one half of Merc’s face which still worked quirked up. “Keep talking, laughing boy.”

Boy? Hardly. “So while you two are ‘escorting’ me from the building, who has her back?”

“To quote you,” icy, tall, and silent commented. “None of your fucking business.” The doors slid open, and they shoved him inside.

So they didn’t bait well, but they were protective. Good to know. Leaning against the wall, he studied them. The bio-hazard tattoo on the back of Merc’s skull was pretty damn distinctive.

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