Hot Rebel (22 page)

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Authors: Lynn Raye Harris

BOOK: Hot Rebel
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He’d wanted to spank her ass for what she’d done—and then he’d wanted to kiss her senseless and hold her close. When she’d pulled a gun on him and Dex, a tiny part of him had silently cheered her fighting spirit. He’d known it even if he hadn’t wanted to admit it then. He could have tried harder to disarm her without getting himself or Dex killed, but he’d walked away and given her the chance she needed.

He still didn’t know why he’d done it. But he had, and now they were here, together, and this need he had for her hadn’t abated one bit. If anything, it was growing worse.

Which made absolutely no fucking sense.

“Why?” she repeated.

“Because I think you need help. Because I think no one has been on your side for a very long time.”

Her rain-gray eyes glittered, but he wasn’t certain if it was anger or hurt or even sadness he saw reflected there.
 

“I’m a traitor, Nick. I shot the wrong guy, remember? And I don’t regret it, just so you know. If I’d killed bin Yusuf—or if you had—Emily might be dead too.”

His gut clenched. He’d called her a traitor. He’d even believed it at the time. He didn’t anymore. “I know.”

Her phone buzzed again and she gasped. But then her expression fell and he knew it wasn’t her sister calling back. This time, she punched the Speaker button and Ian Black’s voice filled the silence as he spoke to someone in the background.

“Hello, Ian.”

The conversation abruptly stopped. “Victoria… Am I on speaker?”

“Yes. Do you want me to take you off?” Her eyes met Nick’s. She looked determined, angry, and even a little bit lost.

“No, it’s fine. How’s it going out there, Brandon?”

“Boring,” Nick said in his best Ozarks drawl.
 

“Aren’t snipers used to that?”

“Yeah, but it doesn’t mean we have to like it.”

“Tonight there’s a garden party at the consulate,” Ian said, launching into the briefing. “There’s a scientist supposed to be there. Igor Chernovsky. He works at VECTOR. Or did work.”

The hair on Nick’s arms prickled. VECTOR was the Russian laboratory in Koltsovo that housed some of the few remaining stocks of smallpox. The only other place the virus existed was at the CDC in Atlanta, Georgia.

Victoria seemed to know what that meant as well because her eyes widened. She mouthed the word
fuck
.

“Chernovsky is reputed to be trying to negotiate a deal to sell smallpox to the Qu’rimi Opposition. He has to be stopped. I’m sending over photos—”

“Wait a minute,” Nick said. “How do we know he doesn’t have any vials with him? If he does, and we kill him, we’re leaving those vials in the open.”

“Don’t worry yourself about that part, Brandon,” Black said coolly. “Your job is to kill Chernovsky before the deal is made. Understood?”

Nick clenched his fingers into fists. “Copy that.”

“Good. Victoria, I don’t have to tell you how critical this is. Take Chernovsky down and get out immediately. Return to Baq as quickly as you can.”

“Ian…”

“Yes?”

Victoria shot Nick a look. “Emily called. She’s with bin Yusuf. Is he in Ras al-Dura?”

Ian huffed a breath. “I don’t have that information, Victoria.”

“Would you tell me if you did?”

There was silence for a long moment. “If it didn’t compromise a mission, yes. But I don’t know. I honestly don’t. Now get the job done and get back here.”

“And what happens if I don’t?”

There was a stunned silence on the other end. Nick’s chest swelled with pride at the militant look on Victoria’s face. She had power, and she wasn’t afraid to use it.

“If you don’t, you don’t get paid. Not to mention the Qu’rimis get smallpox, and that’s not a good plan for anyone, believe me. What the fuck is this?”

Her eyes flashed. “I’m sick of being used, Ian. For two years, you’ve promised me you’d find my sister. And then you sent me to protect the man who turned her against her family and her country. If you’re working for those terrorists, then I’m not working for you. I quit.”

Nick knew he should be pissed—and he should be giving her the signal to stop, because if she quit and they didn’t do this, then HOT wasn’t getting answers to who Black was working for and where the intelligence leak was coming from. But the truth was that he was elated she was telling this asshole off. Elated she was standing up for herself.

“Goddammit, Victoria, we don’t have time for this shit. I’m not fucking working for terrorists. There’s a bigger picture at stake here, but trust me when I tell you I’m on the right side of this thing.”

“Why should I trust you? How do I know you aren’t lying to me?”

He was silent for a moment. “You don’t. But if you let Chernovsky get away with this, then ask yourself if you can live with a smallpox outbreak. Because that’s what will happen. The Qu’rimis will weaponize it—or the Freedom Force will. Do you want to be responsible for that?”

Victoria’s brows arrowed down. “No, I don’t. But Ian, if I find out you’ve lied to me and dragged me into something my gramps would be ashamed of me for, I’ll hunt you down like a rabid dog and kill you. You got that?”

“Get the job done. I’ll be waiting for you when it’s over.”

The line went silent and Victoria gripped her phone with a growl. “Son of a bitch.”

Nick pulled her into his arms. She came willingly, her small frame shaking with anger—and maybe a touch of fear too, though she’d never admit it. He stroked her hair.
 

“I’m glad you did that.”

“Are you? It’s not what your colonel wanted.”

Nick shook his head. “Can you believe that right now I don’t give a shit what my colonel wants?”

She pushed away from him, her hands on his arms, and searched his gaze. “Don’t get in trouble for me, Nick.”

It touched him that she cared. “Hey, what happened to the woman who thought I wasn’t doing enough to find her sister? I thought you were pissed at me too.”

“You said you were on my side. I’m choosing to believe you. I know you want to help me find Emily.” She took a deep breath. “After what you’ve done for your own sister, I don’t think you’d let mine suffer if you could help it. It’s not just that blood is thicker than water with you. You’re wired to take care of people—and you can’t ignore the fact Emily is being held against her will.”

He blinked. She’d pretty much gotten it right. He did want to find Emily. But he was afraid he wanted to do it for Victoria more than he wanted to do it for Emily. He didn’t quite know why that was, but he thought that right now he’d do nearly anything for her.

Before he could speak, she pulled his head down and kissed him. It was a sweet kiss, a hot kiss, their tongues tangling urgently. His dick went from zero to sixty in half a second. He wanted her badly, but now wasn’t the time. Carefully, he ended the kiss and set her away from him.

Her skin was flushed, her eyes filled with passion, and it took everything he had to push her away.

“I have to call my guys,” he said, his voice hoarse. “They have to know what’s happening.”

“I know.” She stepped back and went over to check the equipment.

Nick walked over to the window. The consulate hummed with activity, cars coming and going, guards checking identification carefully before letting delivery trucks inside. Outside in the gardens, there was a tent being set up. It was far too hot to do anything out there now, but when the sun went down, it would be perfect.

Both for a party and for an assassination.

Nick took his phone out and texted Matt Girard. He had to let them know about Chernovsky. If it blew his cover when HOT landed in the middle of Ian Black’s mission, then so be it. But a rogue scientist with access to smallpox was not something to take lightly.

As expected, his phone lit up a second later.
 

“Brandon.”

“Tell me everything.”
 

But it wasn’t Matt. It was Colonel Mendez, and he didn’t sound in the least bit happy.

Nick gave Mendez all he knew—Chernovsky, smallpox, the party at the consulate, and the kill order.

Mendez swore long and low, and Nick knew this was news to the colonel. Which definitely didn’t make the man happy, considering Ian Black was disavowed and shouldn’t have access to such sensitive information. But he clearly did.

And HOT clearly didn’t.

“Don’t do a damn thing until I get some answers, Brandy. You got me?”

“Yes, sir,” he said, though one look at Victoria told him that wasn’t going to be easy. She was scanning the consulate through her scope, and she wore a look of determination. He didn’t know what she was thinking, but he was pretty sure it didn’t involve standing down at the moment. She’d been given her orders, and she was going to complete them like the professional she was.

And then she was going to rip Ian Black limb from limb, at least metaphorically. He almost felt sorry for the guy. Except, of course, he’d really like to rip the man apart himself—and not metaphorically.

He finished the call and walked over to where Victoria was peering through the scope. She glanced up at him, her lips set in a hard line.

“We’ve got a few hours until dark,” he said softly. “We’ve been over this again and again. There are no more calculations to take.”

Her fingers tightened on the grip. And then she sighed and lowered the scope.
 

“I don’t want to just sit here and do nothing when Emily’s out there,” she said. “I feel like I need to be looking for her, not waiting here for some asshole Russian.”

“I know. But there’s nowhere to look. We don’t know where she is.”

“Can’t your people trace the call? Something? I thought you were super soldiers.”

“They’re working on it. These things take time, especially since we’re dealing with a country in the midst of a civil war. The Qu’rimi networks aren’t precisely stable right now. Our phones are sat phones. Hers isn’t.”

She bowed her head. “I know. Shit, I just feel so helpless!”

“Let’s power up the computer and see what Black’s sent us. We need to know who this guy is.”

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

John Mendez was not a happy camper, as the saying went. All these years in the Army, busting his ass and putting his country first, and some disavowed CIA asshole had information he didn’t. It was enough to send his blood pressure into the danger zone.

He was on a secure sat link back to DC, waiting for his contact to come back on the line. A Russian scientist with fucking smallpox. How had they let this get out? And what the fuck was Ian Black doing, sending his mercenary snipers after this man? Did he even fucking know if Chernovsky had the virus with him?
 

If he did and Brandy and Victoria Royal took him out, that would leave the virus vulnerable.
 

Though maybe that was the plan. Kill Chernovsky and get the virus without paying for it. It was just the sort of deal the Freedom Force would make.

Echo Squad was in place in Ras al-Dura, but until he had more, he couldn’t send an American special ops team into a Russian facility to kidnap—or kill—a Russian citizen. Did the Russians even know what Chernovsky was doing? It didn’t strike him as the kind of thing they’d care for.

Since the end of the Cold War, the Americans and Russians had done a diplomatic dance based on mutual mistrust and suspicion. Russia had smallpox stocks because America had them and vice versa. Even if it was best for the planet to destroy them—and he in no way knew whether it was or not—it wasn’t likely that either side ever would.

Smallpox was here—in the lab, anyway—to stay. And sensible people really wanted to keep the virus confined to a lab, whether they were Russian or American.

But take a scientist who was disgruntled or in need of money, some lax security, and it all fell apart. Hell, not that long ago, there were vials of the virus found in a lab in Maryland. Fucking Maryland when they were supposed to be in the CDC in Atlanta.

Not that it surprised him, really. If DARPA wasn’t up to something, then someone else was. Someone always was.

“Thanks for waiting, John.”

“So what have you got for me?”

“Not much. Our guys know who Chernovsky is, but we’ve got nothing on him trying to sell the virus. Of course, it would take days to sift the intel.”

“That’s not good news, Bill. If Ian Black is to be believed, Chernovsky’s in Qu’rim trying to make a deal.”

“I’ve got people on it, but I don’t know where Black’s getting his intel…”

Mendez snorted. “If we knew that, we’d know a lot more about the man, wouldn’t we?”

“He was always a quiet sort. Intense. I didn’t dislike him… but then I didn’t like him either. No idea what he did to get on the wrong side of the agency. The record is carefully blank on that score.”

Mendez raked a hand through his hair. His eyes were gritty, and he was pushing about forty-eight hours without sleep. “Take it as far as you can go. But be careful. Whoever’s feeding him information knows a lot more than we do. I don’t think it’d be a good idea to get their attention.”

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