Armed And Dangerous (The McKinnon Legends - The McKinnon American Men Book 2) by Ranay James Page B
Authors: Ranay James
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could never seem to turn off the mercenary mode, even when he could. He figured it had kept him alive this long. So, why change?
“Thank you, baby.” She noticed he also threw in a piece of banana nut bread, a blue berry muffin, and a scone.
“I wasn’t sure what you liked.” He shrugged offering an explanation at her questioning look. “I’ll eat whatever you don’t. I’m not picky.”
“That’s an understatement,” she mumbled.
He heard, understanding the inference was not toward food.
“Just eat already, will ya. Seen and not heard, remember?” He gave her a small smile.
“Not on your life.” Low and direct, she let him know in no uncertain terms that she was not going to play the quiet, shy type. “Baby, you know I cannot eat nuts,” she said just a little louder than she needed to. “You remember what happened at your Uncle Ben’s birthday party last year.”
“Hives. Sorry, I forgot.” His reply was flat. He hated role playing and freely admitted that he did not need to give up his day job to become an actor. He had been approached by modeling agencies and producers alike. He knew that he had the looks, skill, and build for the next great Hollywood action hero, but he never could get the character down. For him real life was way better than some script.
Furthermore, he understood what she was doing. It was better to get into full character here where the chances of someone seeing them associated with Del Torres was slim to none. Once they boarded that plane, touched down in Panama, and passed through immigration, there was only one way to look at everyone, the enemy. Once the passports were swiped and the information fed into the immigrations computer system, their presence in Panama would be undeniable.
The fact that they were going in the front door might be the only way to keep them alive. It was just too blatant not to look bona fide. Mason was on almost every third-world country’s watch list. So, passing through customs and immigrations in full-blown daylight was gutsy if he were on a mission. He hoped it would be so overt that the local authorities would not necessarily overlook him, but at least not stop them outright. If he could just get past the fact that his partner was Barbara they just might, in a few days time, board a flight back to Dallas sitting in first class and not in the cargo hull in cardboard caskets and body bags.
He really had no choice other than to get past it. He had chosen to take this mission, knowing full well what it entailed, or so he thought he understood what it entailed.
Reaching over and taking her hand, he squeezed her fingers for a different reason.
“I may not always like you, Barbara, but I promise to keep you alive. You deserve that much from me.”
“And that is a promise I fully intend to make you keep, Mason.” Her smile was genuine, and he saw the woman behind it. She was human.
Damn, he thought. She really was a woman after all and not some mechanical robot encased in frumpy coveralls.
But more than that, she was a woman who was unselfish enough to agree to go into a foreign country and risk getting killed just to save a child that she never met simply because it was the right thing to do. There was only one kind of woman he knew who would do that voluntarily. She was a warrior at heart.
Christ, what was Robert thinking? She should not even be here. She could die. He could have done this alone getting into the country on some other farce. Maybe it was not too late.
“You need to back out and let me do this, Barbara.” He had to try.
“No, Mason. We are doing this together or not at all.”
He felt and heard her resolve.
“Till death do us part?” he spoke softly as if mulling it over out loud. Looking away, he found he could not face her. “Maybe not such a great vow after all, huh,” he questioned as he took a drink from his coffee cup, hoping to wash down the words that were lodged in his throat.
“Not in our case,
“Thank you, baby.” She noticed he also threw in a piece of banana nut bread, a blue berry muffin, and a scone.
“I wasn’t sure what you liked.” He shrugged offering an explanation at her questioning look. “I’ll eat whatever you don’t. I’m not picky.”
“That’s an understatement,” she mumbled.
He heard, understanding the inference was not toward food.
“Just eat already, will ya. Seen and not heard, remember?” He gave her a small smile.
“Not on your life.” Low and direct, she let him know in no uncertain terms that she was not going to play the quiet, shy type. “Baby, you know I cannot eat nuts,” she said just a little louder than she needed to. “You remember what happened at your Uncle Ben’s birthday party last year.”
“Hives. Sorry, I forgot.” His reply was flat. He hated role playing and freely admitted that he did not need to give up his day job to become an actor. He had been approached by modeling agencies and producers alike. He knew that he had the looks, skill, and build for the next great Hollywood action hero, but he never could get the character down. For him real life was way better than some script.
Furthermore, he understood what she was doing. It was better to get into full character here where the chances of someone seeing them associated with Del Torres was slim to none. Once they boarded that plane, touched down in Panama, and passed through immigration, there was only one way to look at everyone, the enemy. Once the passports were swiped and the information fed into the immigrations computer system, their presence in Panama would be undeniable.
The fact that they were going in the front door might be the only way to keep them alive. It was just too blatant not to look bona fide. Mason was on almost every third-world country’s watch list. So, passing through customs and immigrations in full-blown daylight was gutsy if he were on a mission. He hoped it would be so overt that the local authorities would not necessarily overlook him, but at least not stop them outright. If he could just get past the fact that his partner was Barbara they just might, in a few days time, board a flight back to Dallas sitting in first class and not in the cargo hull in cardboard caskets and body bags.
He really had no choice other than to get past it. He had chosen to take this mission, knowing full well what it entailed, or so he thought he understood what it entailed.
Reaching over and taking her hand, he squeezed her fingers for a different reason.
“I may not always like you, Barbara, but I promise to keep you alive. You deserve that much from me.”
“And that is a promise I fully intend to make you keep, Mason.” Her smile was genuine, and he saw the woman behind it. She was human.
Damn, he thought. She really was a woman after all and not some mechanical robot encased in frumpy coveralls.
But more than that, she was a woman who was unselfish enough to agree to go into a foreign country and risk getting killed just to save a child that she never met simply because it was the right thing to do. There was only one kind of woman he knew who would do that voluntarily. She was a warrior at heart.
Christ, what was Robert thinking? She should not even be here. She could die. He could have done this alone getting into the country on some other farce. Maybe it was not too late.
“You need to back out and let me do this, Barbara.” He had to try.
“No, Mason. We are doing this together or not at all.”
He felt and heard her resolve.
“Till death do us part?” he spoke softly as if mulling it over out loud. Looking away, he found he could not face her. “Maybe not such a great vow after all, huh,” he questioned as he took a drink from his coffee cup, hoping to wash down the words that were lodged in his throat.
“Not in our case,
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