The Colonel's Man (2 page)

“I think I’m in love,” Drew chimed in, alternating between watching out the door and glancing over as she pulled boots on over as delicate a pair of feet as Jason had ever seen. “Marry me?”

She chuckled as she yanked the laces tight. “Sorry handsome, not on the market.”

Despite himself, the words rang in Jason’s head, rousing his interest. Not on the market wasn’t
off
the market, which would indicate she was attached or married. No, not on the market was a phrase he’d heard female friends use when they declared themselves done with the stupidity of men.

That was good. It meant he could change her mind.

There was movement outside the door. Jason was only a split second behind Drew as he raised his pistol to double tap a mangy looking bandit, while Drew took care of a bearded bad guy with a burst from his carbine. In the space of a breath, two fresh corpses flanked either side of the room’s lone exit.

“Sorry to cut short your marital plans pal, but our hosts are starting to get frisky. Time to get out of here,” said Jason as he cut right to the door. Peering down both ends of the corridor, he could hear shouting and booted feet getting closer.

“Okay, Drew-man. It’s your show.” he said before turning to their subject. “Lady, you stay right in my back pocket.”

“Last time I checked, those things didn’t have back pockets.”

Her left eyebrow winged up as she crossed to his side. He shook himself, glancing down the corridor so he didn’t get caught watching the way she moved again. Damn, she was good. He could see why they’d picked her for spy work.

More shouts reached their ears as he reached out and grabbed her hand, hooking it under the strap of his tactical rig. She frowned, leaning closer to listen to what was going on out in the corridor.

“Look, I can shoot. Three guns are better than two.”

“I’m sure you can, lady,” he said as he watched Drew go right into the corridor with his carbine set to rock and roll. “Not that I don’t trust you it’s just that… I don’t trust you. With a weapon anyway. Now quit arguing with me and just get ready to move.”

It wasn’t that they didn’t have an extra weapon. He didn’t like anyone touching his weapons other than himself and Drew only had his sidearm for backup while the carbine on full auto went through the forty round mag like popcorn. Not to mention he didn’t know her or what she was about. All he knew was that they needed to get her out of there with her sweet little ass in one piece.

They moved. Drew screened forward as Jason kept a few paces behind. Slicing the corner, Drew let loose with three silenced bursts that were complemented seconds later by the dying cries of his quarry. Jason dealt with a flanker that came from their right, nailing the bastard right in the head. He went down like a puppet with its strings cut, leaving a scarlet smear against the wall.

They moved, quick and sure as they retraced their original path. Every step of the way, she was right behind him. Normally in an extraction there were screams and tears as a firefight went down, but not this time. When he moved, she did, keeping quiet and out of the line of fire as though she were a pro. Despite himself, he was impressed.

Jason heard Drew’s cry of pain a second after he heard the familiar impact of an HVP round striking flesh. He turned and nailed Drew’s assailant with a double tap to the chest before reloading and seeing to his partner.

“Shit!” Drew gritted his teeth, slumping against the wall as he pressed his hand to the wound on his thigh. Even in the low light, the rapidly spreading darkness over his thigh was obvious. “Bastard blindsided me.”

“Your sparkling personality probably made him want to leave you a parting gift.” Jason ripped the med-pack free from the back of his belt and checked the wound. The round had ricocheted off something, embedding stone in the flesh around the wound. Drew was lucky though. Had it been a direct hit, it would have been a through and through and his partner would be bleeding out. He took out the coagulant applicator and pressed the dressing over the wound hard.

In the time it took him to assess the wound and break out a field dressing more of the bastards were on them. There was no order to their attacks but they had numbers on their side. Which meant the three of them were up shit creek without a paddle.

“Help him tie that off. Quick now,” he ordered the woman as he provided cover. Four shots, two tangoes down.

“Bossy, isn’t he? Hold here for me hard and let’s keep that scarlet inside where it belongs. Can’t have my new fiancé bleeding out on me, can we?” She ordered Drew, a smile tinting her voice.

Jason couldn’t help but notice her quick and efficient movements out of the corner of his eye as he put down target after target. Of all the extractions he and Drew had undertaken, at least on the one where the shit hit the fan they not only got a package that didn’t blubber like a child but actually seemed to know her way around a first aid kit.

Drew laughed, the sound tight with pain. “You have no idea. I think he’s repressed.”

“I wouldn’t be surprised.”

“Screw you, pal.” He fired again and swore. There were too many of them for him to deal with on his own. “Lady, we get out of this and I’ll show you just how repressed I am.”

“Fuck, two behind.” Drew’s voice was tight as he scrambled for his carbine, reacting to movement behind them . He swore again as the thing slipped from his blood-soaked fingers to clatter on the floor next to him. “Shitshit
shit.
”

“Hang tight.” Jason dropped targets as quickly as he could, but it wasn’t going to be fast enough. Any second now he expected to feel slugs hitting his back, and hear the sounds of his companions dying. Then the sound of shots behind him made him breathe a sigh of relief. Drew had gotten his shit together and was on the case.

“Fuck me… Scott, you gotta see this.”

Jason dropped the last of his targets and turned. He was awestruck for a moment as he watched the woman wield Drew’s carbine like a virtuoso with a violin. Slender legs spread for balance, with that mass of dark hair swirling around her bare shoulders, she made taking down bad guys with an automatic weapon into an art form. Bodies piled on the staircase as she rained precise fire on their enemies. When she ran out of ammo, Drew tossed her a mag. She caught it in midair, deftly slipped it into the weapon and resumed firing without a pause. Jason couldn’t help himself. The unexpected display was impressive and arousing as all hell. Babes and machine guns. He was a pervert for sure.

“Fuck…” He murmured as he took down another flanker and moved to help Drew up. “Time to move. Lady, you’re gonna have to give cover as we go.”

“Not a problem. You okay carrying him?”

She dropped in right next to them as if she’d been working with them for years, circling from front to back as though she knew instinctively where the next hostile was going to pop up.

“Been carrying his sorry ass for years, so I’m good.” He grunted as he looped Drew’s arm around his neck to support him while he held his pistol in the other.

“Fuck you, Scott.”

“I keep telling you, mate. I’m not interested unless you wear a dress. And get a shave. Stubble rash is a bitch.”

Their exit from the building was as quick as it was violent. Jason had gone through his pistol ammo and was now onto Drew’s. The woman on the other hand, seemed perfectly at ease with the carbine. In the end he gave up and threw her Drew’s ammo pouches.

She handled herself well. Better than well. Cool and calm under pressure, she acted like she’d been doing this for years. Which meant he’d been wrong about her and what her background was. If she were a spy then she sure as hell wasn’t the garden variety. Leaving the warehouse behind, a last volley from the carbine dropped the few remaining pursuers.

“We’re clear. Which way to the pickup point?”

She ran beside them, the carbine held easily in her delicate looking hands. Every so often she would side step, sweeping the muzzle in a wide arc as she covered both front and rear. Since she had it covered, Jason didn’t bother, his concern for Drew increasing by the minute. Blood stained his entire leg, soaked into the pants and leaving a scarlet trail on the cracked concrete as they ran. No one could lose that much of the red stuff and stay healthy.

“Just up here, they’re coming in on a hot drop,” he said, the end of his sentence cut off by the roar of the drop-shuttle’s engines as it swooped over them. It hovered at the end of the street, the gunners either side of the open load doors swiveling into position and bringing the heavy guns to bear.

Relief flooded through him; they were nearly there. He increased his pace, shooting a tight smile to the woman as she slung the carbine over her shoulder and slid in under Drew’s other arm. Bracing his big form between them, they made a break for the shuttle.

It was like a scene from an action movie. The one where the heroes were about to get clear but the shit hit the fan to make their escape harrowing and all the more exciting. For Jason excitement was the last thing he wanted as the city block came to life. The bad guys must have found a way around their jamming and had called for reinforcements. There were insurgents everywhere, with a couple of trucks sporting crudely mounted but very real auto-cannons rushing towards them like rabid fans at a rock concert.

“Wow lady, these guys must have had a real hard on for you!” He shouted over the roar of the drop-shuttle’s engines which was quickly joined by the rapid blasts of fire from the door gunner covering them.

“Yeah, they tend to get pissed when you take out their head honcho,” she yelled back as they bundled Drew up into the waiting arms of the medics. Hauling himself up into the load-bay, he held out a hand to her.

With everyone aboard, the pilot put the power to the engines and got them the hell out of there. The sound of weapons fire and the glow of plasma bolts whizzing past the nimble craft accompanied them on their ascent into the evening sky.

With the danger over, Jason settled into the lulling calm and complacency that came after every operation with a sigh of relief. It was a vulnerable moment for any operative as the adrenaline rush was over and nerves were just starting to calm down, but he doubted the insurgents on the planet had anything potent enough to shoot down an Alliance drop-shuttle, especially at this altitude.

The dark blue evening sky turned black as they exited the planet’s atmosphere. The medics made short work of Drew’s wound and had him stabilized in record time. Fortunately Drew was resilient and the blood loss wasn’t as severe as they had thought. As per tradition, he knew his partner would be looking forward to a drink once they got back to base and he was released from the mercies of the medbay. For now Drew had pulled down the brim of his boonie hat over his face and drifted into a well deserved snooze.

Jason and the woman had taken up the last row at the back which lent a modicum of privacy. Normally, he’d catch a nap on the way back, but during the ascent his beautiful subject had fallen asleep against him, and her nearness had him abandoning any thoughts of sleep.

Instead he took the time to study her closely. Despite the ravages of her ordeal and the rescue, she was exquisite. The expression on her face was sublime and the thought of her dreaming made him irrationally envious of every thought that wasn’t revealed to him. Damn, he wished he had asked for her name. She probably would have given him a cover name but it was better than just referring to her as “lady”.

With her head resting on his shoulder and her face almost nuzzling his neck, Jason felt his cock harden with every soft puff of her breath against his skin. Her reclined posture gave him a great view down the neckline of her tattered shirt, the fabric clinging to a set of fantastic breasts like a second skin. Despite the black lacy bra, he could see the hint of her nipples poking through the shirt.

*

His hands itched to tear off that ridiculous excuse for a top. Take her breasts into his hands; testing their weight, delighting in the feel of them as he rolled her luscious nipples between his fingers. He could imagine her moan of pleasure as he played with the hard, tender buds before taking them in his mouth to melt against his tongue.

His heart rate kicked up a few beats and he set his breathing to a more controlled tempo as he looked his fill. He should feel like a dick, but she was one hell of a woman and he was only a red-blooded man. She was fucking hot, cool under pressure and knew her way around a carbine. His admiration of her skills went with his lust for her and he imagined how that sweet little body would feel clenched moist and tight around his cock as she rode him.

Goddammit Jason, either look away or yield to it, but stop torturing yourself.

He decided to compromise and slowly reached to wrap an arm around her waist as he held her close. He might not be able to do anything with the hard-on plaguing him for a while, but he wasn’t ready to exile himself from her presence just yet. He liked holding her close and with her body pressed against him like this, his protective instincts came into play again.

He froze. Her side was warm, wet and sticky and he watched her tranquil face momentarily twist in an expression of pain. Alarmed he looked at his hand.

“Shit! Medic!” He yelled out as he slid from the seat and laid her down sideways so he could get a better look at the wound. She had taken a hit to her side and blood was slowly oozing out of the small cavity.
Dark purple blood.