Chapter 5 #2
That’s all he could get out and not shout. Race out the door and hunt the bastards down—intel be damned. He’d once cherished every inch of her body, ran his hands along all that smooth, soft skin. Sure, he might never do that, again, but knowing some fuckhead had damaged her—made her bleed…
Cannon’s hand, again. Stronger than before as it gripped his shoulder. “Stand down, buddy. Now isn’t the time. Let’s just listen to what the team found.”
He nodded, knowing anything he said would come out wrong.
Colored by the traitorous feelings whirling inside him.
He knew all about strategy. Tactics. And he knew charging in without a plan when lives were on the line was bad enough.
A necessity, at times. When they weren’t, it was foolish.
The kind of stupidity that got good men killed.
But, damn… His freaking head—the one he’d told himself was thoroughly grounded—didn’t seem to care.
Filled his mind with all the ways he could even the score a bit.
Leave the same damn marks on their bodies.
Which was insane. She’d left him. Made it clear he hadn’t meant as much to her as she did to him. He shouldn’t feel this edgy.
No doubt about it. Love was a bitch.
Six waited, watching him as if he could follow Colt’s internal conversation. And maybe the guy could. Knew everything Colt was thinking the moment it popped into his head.
Thankfully, Six shifted his focus to Cannon.
“The trail wove its way through a bunch of alleys, where we found these.” He reached into his pocket.
Removed a set of keys. “They were beside a bloody handprint. Ellis must have dropped them when her strength started to give out. I’m thinking she grabbed them during her escape.
From there, we continued over to Ninety-Nine, then across the water at Eleventh Avenue.
There were cameras covering the bridge. Probably how they knew which way she’d initially headed.
Took some time to get the pattern down—avoid getting caught on film.
I doubt she had the luxury to do that. When we finally tracked down the correct warehouse, it was deserted. ”
Cannon frowned. “Deserted? That was pretty damn quick, even for trained dickbags. Unless…”
Six nodded. “Yeah. They’d left a few…surprises behind. Guess they didn’t plan on us having a guy like Rigs, along. Or Blade.”
The dog yipped, tongue lolling out as he leaned against Rigs’ legs. It was easy to see how devoted the canine was to the man. Though, from where Colt was sitting, it was mutual.
Rigs reached down—gave the brute an affectionate scratch behind his ears.
“Blade had a damn field day in there. Should be safe enough, now. But, Christ… If some poor soul had set off even one of those bombs, the chain reaction would have leveled half the damn pier. Whoever’s behind this doesn’t seem to care about collateral damage.
Though, they’d done a really good job of rigging it to look like a gas main explosion. ”
Cannon tapped a finger against his chin.
“So, we’re dealing with pros. Men who have a variety of talents in their ranks.
Torture. Explosives. Surveillance. Sounds too organized to be a small-time grievance.
Which means Ellis stumbled upon something big enough to put her on a very powerful shit list.”
“Would appear so. And you should know. They used C4.”
Cannon muttered under his breath. “You think these guys are former-military?”
“Could be someone else who bought it on the black market. Or stole it. But my gut’s telling me they’re freaking CIA bastards from their Special Operations Group. Though, I’m not sure why they’d be after one of their own.” Rigs looked over at Colt. “We are assuming she’s CIA, right?”
At Colt’s sigh, Rigs shoved his hands in his pocket, glancing back at Cannon.
“Anyway, we also need to be prepared for the fallout when that warehouse doesn’t explode.
They’ll know they were made, and my money’s on them heading back here, first. I have no idea what kind of traffic that place gets, but I wouldn’t plan on more than a few days. Maybe a week.”
“Agreed. Which means we should increase our vigilance, especially when we don’t know who or what we’re dealing with.
Though, this is starting to paint a very ugly picture.
” Cannon nodded at Rigs. “I’ll leave you to arrange any…
security measures you think we might need.
Just…keep them non-lethal, Rigs. At least, for now. ”
“Buzzkill. I’m going to ask Addison do some digging.
See if she can quietly uncover who owns or rents out that warehouse.
The ones surrounding it. I’ll also see if she can get her hands on any CCTV footage from the traffic cams. Not sure it’ll be all that helpful, but it can’t hurt.
” Rigs held up his hand. “I know. We need to keep this as far away from Ellis’ name as possible.
I’m sure Addy can figure something out. Use her position on the bomb squad to run a few checks through the computer. ”
“I still can’t believe you talked her into that.
Not that I’m complaining. Having all you guys sign up—I’m a damn lucky SOB.
” He cocked his head to one side. “Has Addison figured out your enthusiasm for her new position was just a ploy so you could oversee some of her training? Do some private consulting in order to keep an eye on her? Tag along on some of her calls?”
Rigs grinned. “Do I look like the kind of guy who’d do that?”
“Not at all.” Cannon stood. “I’ll go into the Marshal’s office with Jericho in the morning.
See if we can discreetly enquire about Ellis’ whereabouts for the past few years.
Between us, we have a few sources that could keep any digging under wraps for a bit.
If she’s CIA, there should be a record of it somewhere.
Might take a while to get the information, though.
And I have a bad feeling time isn’t on our side.
I also called Bishop. Asked if he could spare on of his teammates to give us some additional backup.
The way this is heading…we might need the extra muscle. ”
Colt nodded. “Who’s he sending?”
“Bastard said he could be here in three days. Guess he’s taking it personally.
Ellis moved around quite a bit. Gathered intel for a number of different units.
Bishop’s Green Beret team was one of them during some joint ventures.
He’s a bit…upset someone tried to kill her.
He also said he might bring a friend along. We’ll find out once he arrives.”
“Good. We need answers, and channeling some anger might be just the ticket necessary to get them.”
“Oh, we’ll get answers. Whoever is behind this can’t hide for long.” Cannon glanced at Ellis then back to Colt. “You want some company watching over her?”
“Nah, I’m good. Ice gave her something to help her sleep. I doubt even her new skills will rouse her ass out of the bed before morning.”
Six took a step closer. “I’ll bring you some coffee.
Check in later, in case you need a break.
I know you’ve got a…special connection with her, but you’re not alone in this.
She helped all of us out in the field. And I’m always happy to give a bit of payback.
” He smiled. “Besides, she’s your girl, right? We take that seriously.”
“Thanks. I’ll let you know if I need a break. But if she hears you calling her my girl, she might use some of her new moves on you.”
“I’ll risk it.”
“You didn’t see the way she was holding that belt.”
Six laughed then headed out, followed by the others. In the span of five seconds, Colt was alone in the room with Ellis, nothing but her whispered breath to ease the tension bunching his shoulders.
He reran everything Six and Rigs had said, willing his pulse to ease as it kicked up.
He never got anxious. Had his body react negatively to stress.
Couldn’t have made Delta Force if he had.
In fact, part of the selection involved studying a soldier’s physiological responses to combat.
Most Spec Op guys had their pulse and blood pressure either stay fixed or go down during a gunfight.
Experienced an almost inhuman ability to control the flight or fight response when bullets started flying. And he’d been no exception.
But here he was, sitting in a chair across from Ellis, and his pulse was tapping triple time. Fluttering away beneath his skin as if he’d just finished one of the timed marches during selection.
She did this to him. Had always had a confusing effect on him. He’d initially brushed it off as sexual anticipation. General excitement. But—sex wasn’t on the table, now. And it wasn’t excitement coursing through his veins.
He inched forward, gently sandwiching one of her hands between his.
Her skin was cold. That deathly white shade.
Slightly clammy. Everything Ice had said it would be, but it still sparked concern in the pit of his stomach.
Made him shift the chair closer—place their joined hands in his lap.
If he leaned in just a bit more, he could hear her steady breathing better—see her chest rising.
Her pulse flutter at the base of her neck.
She really was stunning. Long brown hair—chestnut, he’d once heard someone call it—soft, dainty features.
Smooth skin. She was leaner than he remembered.
Had a hard edge to her that hadn’t been there before.
Both most likely from endless training. But regardless, the woman was beyond beautiful.
And he couldn’t stop from tracing his fingertip down her cheek—brushing away a smear of dirt on her jaw.
He couldn’t imagine what she’d discovered to get her in this much trouble.
Why her company—her damn boss—hadn’t been scrounging the area searching for her.
Surely, they’d noticed she was missing? Jericho had been right.
Ice had confirmed Ellis had been held for at least three days based on the ligature marks.
The extent of dehydration. Possibly five.
Hadn’t her colleagues noticed her missing?
Had they tried to contact her? And what had they done when they hadn’t been able to reach her? When the messages had gone unanswered?
Well, she had people who’d watch her back, now. Who wouldn’t let five minutes go by without ensuring she was okay, let alone five days. And with Bishop and his resources from Timberline Tactical joining in, they’d uncover whoever had hurt her. Wanted her dead.
And they’d turn the tables on the bastards. Take the war to them. These people might have trained to fight, to kill, but they hadn’t trained for war. Not the way he and his team had. And this was one battle Colt wasn’t going to lose.