HOT SEAL Lover (HOT SEAL Team - Book 2) (11 page)

“
T
he road
to Akhira’s been cut off,” Mendez said on the screen.

The SEALs didn’t grumble or complain. After all, the only easy day was yesterday. But Akhira being inaccessible sure did put a crimp in the plan.

Ian Black frowned. The dude hadn’t even asked if he could remain for this briefing—but Mendez hadn’t asked him to leave either. “Your boys are welcome here as long as you need, but I can’t stay longer than another day. Got a war to fight.”

Remy didn’t much know what Ian Black and his crew did, but he figured it wasn’t all good. Or legal. Hell, he didn’t really know. Come to think of it, he didn’t know a fucking thing.

Such as why he’d told Christina about Roxie. He never told anyone about his sister. It was too painful, and it usually caused him to spiral into a pit of guilt and regret when he talked about it. He wanted to fix it. Wanted to bring Roxie back. Wanted to see what was coming and stop it before it happened.

Too late.

“We’ll find a way around, sir,” Viking said. “Akhira is still our best option at this point. Merak is too far now, and the convoy route is unstable.”

“Agreed. Form a plan.” Mendez looked at his wrist. “Two hours. I’ll want to hear it then.”

“Yes, sir.”

The screen went blank, and Viking ran a hand through his hair. It had gotten somewhat long lately and stood on end.

“Black, you got a way out of here?” he asked. Because that was the first option. The best option, and they all knew it. Including the man to whom the question was directed.

Ian Black sat on the edge of the desk, one leg dangling, arms crossed, as he contemplated Viking. “I’m not HOT, dude. That’s your deal. I’ve got shit to do that doesn’t involve you.”

“Fucking hell,” Remy said, suddenly unable to stand Black’s attitude or the sense of tomcats circling. There was too much at stake here. “You aren’t HOT, but you’re on our side. And while you may not like us for some reason, you can’t have anything against those civilians. They’re the ones who need to get out of here. Help
them
, for fuck’s sake.”

Black had turned to look at him. The man’s eyes narrowed as he studied Remy. He reminded Remy of the colonel in some ways—cool, dangerous, lethal. But younger. Mid to late thirties, probably. A man who’d seen a lot in his life, and not all of it good. Former CIA. Disavowed, apparently, which was interesting considering they were here with him and Mendez didn’t seem to mind.

“I get paid to do what I do. You got money? Because if I stay here and help you whiny bitches out, then I’m losing business elsewhere. You’re going to have to make it worth my time.”

“We’ll all suck your dick,” Remy said. “How’s that, motherfucker?”

Because he was pissed now. This asshole knew things. He was just being a prick about it because he had a chip on his shoulder where HOT was concerned. Remy didn’t know why that was or what it was about, but he fucking knew he wasn’t going to let some asshole like this put Christina in danger for another minute.

Black’s eyes narrowed even more. And then the jerk laughed. Fucking laughed.

“Man, you boys have a way of sweet-talking me even while you yank my chain. I’ve got a meeting to be at, and I’m not missing it. But I can grease some palms, get you through to Akhira. Thing is, you’re going to owe me more than a blow job. You ready for that, stud?”

“I’ll get on my hands and knees if it helps,” Remy drawled.

Black snorted. “Not my type. But you just remember—” He turned to look at them all. “Remember who got you out of this scrape. I’ll expect to collect someday.”

“Long as it isn’t illegal or contrary to orders,” Viking said.

“Can’t guarantee that,” Black replied. “But you’ll just have to make up your mind when the time comes, won’t you?”

Remy didn’t like the way that sounded, but fucking hell, if the dude managed to get Christina through to safety, Remy’d do just about anything Black wanted. He’d lost Roxie, but he wasn’t losing Christina. Not when he could do something about it.

“Help us get the civilians to safety,” Viking said. “We’ll listen when you’re ready to talk. Best we can do.”

“I’ll make some calls,” Black replied. “You can chill until the sun goes down.”

* * *

A
lex “Ghost” Bishop
sat across the table from Mendez, studying the HOT commander. They were in the war room, a secure room that was separated by soundproof glass from the command center. They could see into the command center and view the giant screens, which pinpointed all the HOT operators’ locations. Men and women with headsets sat in front of the screens, tapping away on keyboards and talking into microphones.

It was a slick operation and one that Alex was proud to be a part of. He’d spent nearly his entire career in Special Ops and he loved the challenge. But HOT was the pinnacle. He’d been here before, but now he was here as the deputy commander.

A duty which he did not take lightly. After all, Mendez wouldn’t have picked him if he’d been the type to take it lightly.

Just then, Mendez ended the call with the SEALs in Qu’rim and slid his chair back from the console.

“Always a goddamn clusterfuck,” he said. “Ian fucking Black.”

“You don’t like him.” It was an observation based on the evidence at hand. So when Mendez blinked and then laughed, Alex was confused.

“If you tell anyone I said so, I’ll deny it—but he’s fucking brilliant. And probably more of a patriot than you or me. Black believes it so hard and so deep that he’s rearranged his entire life to serve.”

That was an interesting piece of information. Alex tapped his fingers on the desk. “Isn’t he disavowed?”

Alex had read the files when Mendez sent them to him. Ian Black, former CIA operative with the Middle Eastern bureau. Spoke Arabic, Chinese, French, and Farsi. Disavowed under classified circumstances. Fled the country and went to work as a mercenary. He’d built his own organization, routinely called Black’s Bandits by outsiders. They typically worked for the highest bidder—and they didn’t care who that was or what side they were on.

Hardly a patriot. Then again, if Mendez said so, that was mighty fucking intriguing. And Mendez wasn’t the type to say anything lightly, which meant there had to be a grain of truth.

Either that or the colonel was losing his marbles. And Alex didn’t believe for two seconds that Mendez was losing it.

“Oh hell yeah, he’s disavowed. Try as I might, I can’t find out
why
either.” Mendez leaned forward, his dark eyes glittering in the low light in the war room. “You shouldn’t always believe everything you hear though. Shit happens at these levels—”

He shook his head and didn’t finish the thought.

Alex frowned. “It’s in his official record. Something must have happened.”

Mendez laughed then. “It damn sure is. Look, Alex—you’re going to inherit this job someday. Never take what you’re told at face value. Always question, always probe. And make up your own mind. You always have to obey the law—but question the circumstances anyway. Use your gut and your instinct.”

“Yes, sir.” He nodded at the console as he processed everything Mendez was saying. “You trust Black to help them?”

“I don’t trust him as far as I can throw him. But I trust his ability. If it suits his purposes, he’ll cooperate.” Mendez got to his feet. “Two hours from now, we’ll know the answer. No sense hanging around and speculating. Let’s get back to business. Qu’rim isn’t the only crisis we have.”

That was certainly the truth. Alex glanced at the command center through the glass. The dots were all over the map, and they were active. The world was a volatile place, but HOT wasn’t giving an inch of ground to the bad guys.

Not one fucking inch, which was why Alex loved this place more than any other.

* * *

I
t would be
hours before they could travel, assuming Ian Black gave them the go-ahead. Viking was communicating with HQ to tell them the status of the plan. There was a backup plan, of course. That plan was to head northeast across the desert and avoid civilization while they made for Merak. It was farther and more dangerous because of the desert crossing, but it was a possibility if Black couldn’t deliver.

Money made eye contact with Remy as they walked out of the room. He knew his teammate was curious, but he didn’t really want to talk about Christina. Still, he had to say something. He couldn’t have Money thinking he was taking advantage of her—or, worse, that she was some kind of SEAL groupie.

Because those definitely existed. They’d all run into groupies—and bedded a few too.

“It’s not what you think,” Remy said as they walked outside and into the shaded courtyard. The sun wasn’t high in the sky yet, but already it was growing warm. The temperatures would top one hundred degrees later in the day.

“Looked a lot like what I think,” Money said. “And I’m certain her brother will pound your ass into the ground if he finds out, so you’d better be careful.”

Remy sighed. Yeah, the fact he’d had Christina on his lap, his mouth plastered to hers, didn’t look like it was nothing.

“I care about her, okay? There’s history—and while I’m sure Girard would pound me into the ground if he knew about it, I’d rather he didn’t just yet.”

Money shrugged. “No skin in the game, brother. He won’t hear it from me.”

“Appreciate that.” Remy turned to gaze in the direction of the building where he’d left Christina. “We’ve got things to work out before that happens.”

“Looks like it’s working just fine.”

“Yeah, well, trust me,
that’s
not one of our problems. It’s everything else that is,” he grumbled.

“Women, man. Can’t live with ’em. Can’t live with ’em.” Money laughed as if he’d made the best joke in the world.

And, hell, maybe it was true. Remy didn’t know what he wanted out of Christina, but the thought of living with her didn’t actually terrify him. Not that he’d ever lived with a woman. Stayed with a few for short periods of time, a few days to a week or two, but never a live-in situation with clothes in the closet and a spot on the couch.

Maybe that wasn’t something he was prepared to do with her either, but he wanted the time and space to figure that out. Didn’t need Matt Girard coming down on him just yet.

Though, to be fair, if the situation were reversed and it had been some guy sneaking around with Roxie… Well, fuck, he’d have gone ballistic on the dude. Except for Eric, dammit. The one fucker he should have gone ballistic on. But when Roxie called him up and told him she was dating Eric, he’d been equal parts stunned and pleased—because he’d thought Eric was normal.

They’d spent hours together, hunting gators and deer, fishing, getting into normal adolescent scrapes. Those had been some good times.

“I’d appreciate it if you don’t tell the others,” Remy added. “I’d like to do that on my own time.”

Money sighed. “Dude, I get it—but we’re out here on a mission, she’s our responsibility, and that could affect your thinking. You need to tell them before we move out tonight.”

Remy pushed a hand through his hair. “Yeah, all right.”

Because Money was right. Because the possibility existed, however small, that his decision-making could be compromised if something happened that put Christina in direct danger. And his teammates needed to know that. He turned around and went back inside to find Viking.

The big blond SEAL looked up as Remy approached. “What’s up, Cage?”

Remy thrust out a leg and crossed his arms over his chest. “Christina Girard. We had a thing about six months ago. It didn’t last, but that was her doing. She’s not a groupie.”

Viking raised an eyebrow. “I see. Anything else?”

“Nope.”

Viking nodded. “All right. And Cage?”

“Yeah?”

“I already knew you had a thing for her.”

Remy blinked. “How the fuck did you know that?” He’d been so careful—and, hell, he didn’t have a
thing
for her. He liked her. Wanted to fuck her some more. Wanted to know what else there could be between them.

That was not a
thing
.