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“We need to talk. We need Copper and,” Gabriel said with a glance at John, “we’re going to need your help.”
Grounding herself, she packed away the emotional baggage and nodded. “Let’s do it.” Playtime was over.
Dammit.
Chapter 8
Tammany Bay, Tortola
Brad adjusted his position.Like John, he was lashed to a tree about a dozen yards off the warm sands in the thick of the palm trees. Unless someone looked directly up from the base of the tree, no one would spot them. Below, Copper strolled from her chair to the edge of the water. Unlike the commercial beaches on the other side of the island, this one was harder to get to. The rutted road to reach the campground twenty meters away was difficult to traverse and lacked the amenities of the five star, beachfront hotels.
It had been perfect to escape with Sachi, and they had enjoyed five fantastic days—splitting their time in the water snorkeling, on the beach talking, and in the tent wrapped around each other. Running his tongue over his teeth, he shifted the scope to check the other sniper positions he and John scouted the night before. They’d chosen their tree because it gave them the best line of sight on the two best positions.
Gabriel sat in a chair rented from one of the local restaurants, a newspaper open and his attention seemingly on it. Though he was armed, he was a good three meters from Copper’s position. Too fucking far when all that stood between her and a bullet was a scrap of fabric making up her bikini bottom. Stretching her arms, she showed off the line of her back. The streaks of red in her coppery hair glinted under the sun.
Hating every part of the settling in to wait and see, Brad murmured, “All clear on the eastern portion of the bay.”
“All clear west.” Though they were close enough to talk without the mikes, John hadn’t said a word to him since Gabriel outlined the plan in Montana. Though he’d objected, Copper called Chrome and alerted the commander to their plan. He hadn’t seen strategic value in the op, but he also hadn’t discounted Gabriel’s gut. Brad got the feeling okaying their op had more to do with sticking it to Titanium than the other man admitted, but it gave them the go-ahead.
A go-ahead Titanium sent him an order to disregard, so Brad left his phone in Montana. Like John and Sachi, he had a tracer tagged under his skin. Titanium damn well knew where he was. Scanning the tree line, he checked for telltale signs of the rest of his team. Tin and Nickel were the most likely candidates, if they weren’t assigned elsewhere. Like Copper, Nickel got noticed in all the right ways, and half the job of disarming the enemy was giving them something else to see.
“You know,” he said, keeping his voice pitched low since Merc could hear him, “You and I used to be friends.”
Merc grunted.
John was too important to Sachi for Brad to ignore his anger. He was also too dangerous to worry about if he really wanted Brad out of Sachi’s life. With only a handful of visitors on the beach, those present enjoyed a relative amount of privacy. Gabriel seemed certain whomever they were looking for was a woman. The only other women on the beach were islanders—and one was the owner of the closest restaurant and close to sixty-five years old. Not likely candidates.
He tried again. “For what it’s worth, man, I’m sorry you didn’t know we were alive.”
“Watch her back and save your ass kissing for later.” John’s gravelly response didn’t offer friendship or forgiveness.
“Trust me, I’m not letting her out of my sight.” He checked her position in the water, she’d dove into the warmth of the ocean and swam out a couple of meters, then rolled onto her back. The droplets sliding across her chest glittered under the sunlight. Why the hell couldn’t he have brought Gabriel and Sachi here to spend more time together rather than baiting a trap? He had memories here, good memories—he didn’t need some psychotic bitch with an agenda messing with those.
They’d make memories on another trip… A weird feeling coasted along his spine. A chill of apprehension tangled indelibly twined with another emotion, one that tasted suspiciously like hope. The three of them would make more memories, Brad promised silently.Three.Weird and yet right.Focus. Movement in the water near Sachi had him squinting.
“Gabriel, we’ve got something approaching Sachi at her seven o’clock.”
“I see him.”
After a fast check of the other sniper positions told him they were clear, Brad targeted the man rising out of the water. Tall, blond, tan, and fit—but not built. He waded closer to her and his mouth moved, but without ears on Sachi, he couldn’t hear what he said.
She rolled over in the water and faced the man, yet she stayed out of his line of sight.Good girl.The guy blanched and then gave her a nervous smile before wading away.
Merc chuckled. “Pussy.”
His grin arrested when Sachi spun in the water, and her expression changed. Retargeting, he found Gabriel surrounded by three men. “Who the fuck are they?”
“Sidearms.” Merc stated. “They aren’t alone.”
Sachi abandoned her wading and strode for the shore. On his feet, Gabriel had said nothing and his com wasn’t open.Fuck, stay or go?
Another figure cut across the sand toward the men. Like them, his black shirt and jeans stood out on the sliver of sand. Sachi was almost to the beach when Gabriel struck the man nearest to him. An elbow to the face sent him down, and he caught the second with a sharp punch. The third lunged forward, and Brad made the decision. He fired. Merc’s shot took out the fourth, and Copper hit the fifth guy at a run. Racing, she leaped, slammed both of her knees into his chest and took control of his gun arm in one smooth, coordinated move.
Three seconds from strike to having him down. Once he determined she had her guy contained, he switched his attention back to Gabriel. The spook was smooth. His two were out, but plunks of sand exploded around him and then raced across the open stretch toward Copper. Both dodged.
“Sniper. Water.” Merc warned. Angling his sights toward the water, Brad scowled. Two men were firing from over thirty meters. The rifles they carried had a longer range, but he trusted his angle, and he targeted the gun first. It exploded on the guy, and the second went down in a spray as his face vanished.
“Clear?” he asked Merc. Before he could answer, bullets slammed into their tree and shredded the leaves around them. The rapid thwacks sent bark and other debris flying. Switching his rifle, Brad cut his secure cord with a k-bar and slid down the tree below the fire line.
