redheads…
“Noah’s on the way with our ride. I’m assuming you can cope with a little British hospitality for a few hours?”
“I’d appreciate it.”
“Gómez wouldn’t risk the wrath of the CIA just to get his plane back.” Masters’ eyes sparkled with curiosity. “What’s the story with the woman?”
“Gómez doesn’t know the CIA has the woman. He doesn’t know the CIA is involved at all and I want it to stay that way. The asshole sent Hector Sanchez after her. Hector came off worse during the encounter. I happened to be in the area at the time and got her out.”
The Brit’s eyes widened with grudging respect. “Company business?”
“She has information I need.” Killion hedged.
Masters held up his hands. He knew all about the three wise monkeys. And all about Killion’s primary skill set.
The noise of a car engine had Killion turning toward the door of the hangar. A black SUV pulled up inside and a dark-haired man jumped out and walked over, sporting a cocky grin.
Noah Zacharias—another so-called former SAS trooper—held out his hand. “Good to see you, mate.”
Noah and Logan were part of a cadre of soldiers Killion had been lucky enough to save after a logistical fuck up had almost cost the elite warriors their lives. It wasn’t every day he got to do the right thing. Now he was cashing in his chips.
“Noah,” Killion acknowledged with a smile. “Still writing cheesy love songs for the ladies?”
Noah snorted. “Only when I’m not kicking some crazy American’s ass. You still causing trouble?” It was a rhetorical question. Noah’s eyes flickered over Killion’s shoulder to the aircraft. “Don’t bother to answer that. Looks like your lady friend just woke up.”
* * *
A UDREY STARED OUT of the open doorway to find three men staring at her with expressions that ranged from concern to speculation to curiosity. Details from the night before were fuzzy. Her skin felt sizzling hot. Mouth scorched. She had no idea where she was, or even what day it was. It looked dark outside. Nighttime. Between blood loss and lack of her reading glasses her vision was blurry. She was inside the small aircraft the tourist had stolen earlier. She staggered to the open doorway and sat on the edge as white-hot agony ripped through her side.
“How’re you feeling?” asked the tourist.
“Like death, only in excruciating pain.” She panted as she shifted her left leg. She’d never experienced anything like this before. Had Rebecca suffered this much after being shot, or was that even worse? Audrey didn’t want to think about her friend. Even after five years it still hurt and right now she had to get through her own trauma. “I need to get to the American embassy. I don’t have a passport and I need to tell the police what happened at the research station.”
The men’s expressions were masked now. Closed down. She swallowed nervously, realizing that although these men didn’t radiate an obvious threat, they weren’t necessarily her friends. Fortunately, they’d shown her nothing but kindness.
“Where am I?”
“Still in Colombia,” said her hero whose name she still didn’t know.
“Can you get me to the embassy?” All she wanted was to go home, but she didn’t know if the airlines would allow her to fly with no passport and a stab wound.
Her rescuer nodded. Thank goodness.
Her head started to pound. As if reading her mind her rescuer held a bottle of water to her lips. She tipped her head back and felt moisture flood her tongue. The water had a bit of a tang but she put that down to the warm plastic bottle. When she was finished she wiped a drop from the side of her mouth. She wasn’t sure how much blood she’d lost, but enough to leave her with zero energy.
“Who are you guys?” Her hands started to shake from fatigue. No one answered. “How did you know I was in danger yesterday?” She assumed it was yesterday that she’d killed a man.
“Noah’s on the way with our ride. I’m assuming you can cope with a little British hospitality for a few hours?”
“I’d appreciate it.”
“Gómez wouldn’t risk the wrath of the CIA just to get his plane back.” Masters’ eyes sparkled with curiosity. “What’s the story with the woman?”
“Gómez doesn’t know the CIA has the woman. He doesn’t know the CIA is involved at all and I want it to stay that way. The asshole sent Hector Sanchez after her. Hector came off worse during the encounter. I happened to be in the area at the time and got her out.”
The Brit’s eyes widened with grudging respect. “Company business?”
“She has information I need.” Killion hedged.
Masters held up his hands. He knew all about the three wise monkeys. And all about Killion’s primary skill set.
The noise of a car engine had Killion turning toward the door of the hangar. A black SUV pulled up inside and a dark-haired man jumped out and walked over, sporting a cocky grin.
Noah Zacharias—another so-called former SAS trooper—held out his hand. “Good to see you, mate.”
Noah and Logan were part of a cadre of soldiers Killion had been lucky enough to save after a logistical fuck up had almost cost the elite warriors their lives. It wasn’t every day he got to do the right thing. Now he was cashing in his chips.
“Noah,” Killion acknowledged with a smile. “Still writing cheesy love songs for the ladies?”
Noah snorted. “Only when I’m not kicking some crazy American’s ass. You still causing trouble?” It was a rhetorical question. Noah’s eyes flickered over Killion’s shoulder to the aircraft. “Don’t bother to answer that. Looks like your lady friend just woke up.”
* * *
A UDREY STARED OUT of the open doorway to find three men staring at her with expressions that ranged from concern to speculation to curiosity. Details from the night before were fuzzy. Her skin felt sizzling hot. Mouth scorched. She had no idea where she was, or even what day it was. It looked dark outside. Nighttime. Between blood loss and lack of her reading glasses her vision was blurry. She was inside the small aircraft the tourist had stolen earlier. She staggered to the open doorway and sat on the edge as white-hot agony ripped through her side.
“How’re you feeling?” asked the tourist.
“Like death, only in excruciating pain.” She panted as she shifted her left leg. She’d never experienced anything like this before. Had Rebecca suffered this much after being shot, or was that even worse? Audrey didn’t want to think about her friend. Even after five years it still hurt and right now she had to get through her own trauma. “I need to get to the American embassy. I don’t have a passport and I need to tell the police what happened at the research station.”
The men’s expressions were masked now. Closed down. She swallowed nervously, realizing that although these men didn’t radiate an obvious threat, they weren’t necessarily her friends. Fortunately, they’d shown her nothing but kindness.
“Where am I?”
“Still in Colombia,” said her hero whose name she still didn’t know.
“Can you get me to the embassy?” All she wanted was to go home, but she didn’t know if the airlines would allow her to fly with no passport and a stab wound.
Her rescuer nodded. Thank goodness.
Her head started to pound. As if reading her mind her rescuer held a bottle of water to her lips. She tipped her head back and felt moisture flood her tongue. The water had a bit of a tang but she put that down to the warm plastic bottle. When she was finished she wiped a drop from the side of her mouth. She wasn’t sure how much blood she’d lost, but enough to leave her with zero energy.
“Who are you guys?” Her hands started to shake from fatigue. No one answered. “How did you know I was in danger yesterday?” She assumed it was yesterday that she’d killed a man.
Similar Books
