Despite It All by Reese Knightley
Forest
“Stop it, he hissed and yanked away from Greene.
“What?”
“Stop treating me like I’m your property just because we jerked off.”
Were Greene’s eyes filled with regret? He gnashed his teeth at the guy.
“If you think that’s why I’m keeping you close, then you are way fucking off base.”
“Am I?” He certainly didn’t need the guy’s pity.
“Yeah, you are,” the big guy grumbled and flattened his back to one of the large storage containers. And container was the accurate description. The trucking company was more of a shipping yard that spanned two city blocks with massive metal containers stacked two, sometimes three high. Was this even legal? The trucks were semis with empty flatbeds just waiting for a container to be placed.
They’d reached the place about twenty minutes ago, found the truck rental manager shot in the head in his own office, and started searching the place.
You’d think that they’d have to break into or open each container separately, but Colin had brought a high-tech infrared scanner and was using it one container at a time. They’d spread out over the area and Greene was sticking to him like super glue to his ass.
“Wait a minute, did Dave tell you to keep me away from here?” Oh, this was rich.
“You talk too much.”
“I do not.” He squinted through the dark at Greene. “I saw you on the phone when we got here. He did, didn’t he?”
“He cares about you,” Greene admitted. He knew it!
The soldier brushed a hand down the front of his own heavy vest and across the Velcro patch that held the big, white FBI letters. Each soldier had been given one, it helped separate them from the bad guys.
“I love him, he’s like an older brother, but I already have Mason. I don’t need two bossy brothers.”
Greene’s eyes sparkled. They did that when the guy wasn’t guarding his expression. Sparkling eyes. Although, they could turn flinty gray when he was pissed. He was pretty sure that he liked Greene’s eyes both ways, so sue him.
He had to admit, running this mission with Greene reminded him of back when he and Mason used to run ops in the CIA together. He missed that.
“Let’s move,” Greene rumbled and fisted his coat to bring him along.
“Normally, I expect dinner before the groping starts, but since we’ve already crossed that bridge.” He made sure the sarcasm was heavy.
“Are you serious?” Greene turned to gape at him.
“Well yeah, you can’t give me head until we’ve broken bread.”
Greene’s lips twitched. “I suppose jerking off doesn’t count?”
“Nope.”
Greene choked and coughed and kept that damned fist on his coat, dragging him along. He swore he heard a chuckle.
“Gee, I don’t even need my feet.” He wrestled with the hand on his coat and knocked it away. He used his brace and it cracked on Greene’s arm. The guy grunted and clutched his arm to his chest.
“Damn it, didn’t your father ever teach you not to hit?”
“I didn’t have a father and my mother would smack you the same way.” He tipped his chin and curled his lips.
“Did your mother knock you around as a kid?” The guy looked grim.
It looked like play time had ended.
The teasing was over.
“Hell no, she did run after the bullies with a rolling pin one time, though.” He smiled, remembering when his small, compact, dynamite mother chased down a bully twice her size. The bully had hitched up his pants and ran fast. He and Mason had been ten. “My mom is my hero.”
Greene’s face changed, it wasn’t any one thing, it just kind of went flat.
“Let’s move.”
“Aye aye, captain.” He mustered as much sarcasm as he could and with Greene, he could summon up a whole hell of a lot of it.
Greene gnashed his teeth and crept along the side of the metal container, pressing the mic in his ear with a big, thick finger.
He reached up and touched the mic Liam had given him earlier. It was way smaller than his FBI regulation earpiece and felt strange, like it’d get lost if it fell in his ear. He stepped after Greene into the yard. The rain had dropped to a drizzle and the moon broke out for a few seconds above. Maybe the rain would quit and give them a chance to do this without getting too soaked.
His cell phone vibrated and he checked the incoming text.
I told you to back the fuck off.
Jesus, fuck, damn it! The mole’s text glared at him from the screen. Was there any way out of this fucking hell? His eyes snagged on the wide shoulders of Greene and he had a feeling it was fess up time. Even though it was the last thing he wanted. What if telling Greene was the wrong play?
He wiped the rain from the screen and shined the phone on his pants.
“Greene?”
“Yeah?”
“He’s here.”
“Who?”
“The mole.”
“How do you know that?” Hard, flinty eyes zeroed in on him like a beam from the laser dentist and right then, he’d rather take one from the doctor than be beneath that dissecting silvery gaze.
Taking a big breath, he held out his cell phone, the rain splattering the screen again. After two seconds, Greene grabbed the wet phone with a ferocious scowl and barked into the earpiece.
“Eyes up, this is Echo team. Possible mole is on site.”
“You got eyes, Greene?”
“No, I have something else,” Greene growled at him.
He tipped his chin and glared right back.
“Do you realize how stupid this looks?” Greene backed him up against the container.
“You don’t dictate who I speak to, nor how I handle this investigation,” he snapped in a harsh whisper. All kinds of guilt swarmed through his gut, knowing that he’d fucked up, but admitting it was two different things. Besides, Greene didn’t make it easy to admit shit.
“You seem to forget who’s in charge.” Greene’s rugged hand fisted his coat and he was caught. Even if he did swing his arm again, he wasn’t going to get much traction, so all he could do was dangle there on his tiptoes and fucking wait for Greene to calm down, but being caught didn’t mean he couldn’t use his words.
“You, Sergeant Greene, have a death wish.”
“Oh?” One dark eyebrow lifted suggestively over storm gray eyes. Suggestive, sexy, and pulse pounding, he wanted to kiss the man senseless and take him to bed. That jerk off session only whetted his appetite.
“Yes, now let go of me.”
Greene fisted his jacket for two more seconds and then released him, stepping back.
He straightened the collar of his coat. “And you don’t know if they are actually here on site.”
“Heads up, van at the back, north entrance.” Eagle’s voice came from over his shoulder.
Well, shit.
“Converge on the black van at the back gate,” Link ordered through the mic.
“Stop that van!” he shouted, running along the massive orange and gray containers.
He, with Greene by his side, plowed through three perps with semi-automatic rifles. They came up so suddenly, all he could do was react. His first bullet hit one perp in the shoulder. The guy stumbled to the pavement. Kicking the weapon away, he yanked the guy’s hands behind his back and zip-tied them.
Frantically, he lifted his weapon, trying to get a bead on the two other suspects, but Greene was too close.
Like real fucking close. You know, the kind of close that was personal. Greene’s movements blurred. Greene was fucking fast. The soldier had disarmed both suspects. He had one of the perp’s arms hyper-extended, and the man screamed. The other one came up on Greene’s right.
He tried to get a bead on the perp, but Greene was too fucking close, so he couldn’t risk the shot. Greene fired his silencer beneath one man’s chin.
Snick, snick.
Without even turning, Greene lifted his arm and put another bullet into the second perp’s chest, high, just beneath the throat.
Snick.
His mouth gaped and he lowered his gun as the two perps dropped to the ground with a thud. The whole encounter had only lasted seconds. He remembered seeing something like it in a movie once, but never in real life.
“Stay with me,” Greene growled and launched into the darkness, continuing toward the gate.
He sprang forward, flying across the wet asphalt, following where the moon cut through the night, giving more light to the area. Greene was ahead of him, and then gone, like a fucking ghost. Careening around a container, he darted toward the exit where the black van had been spotted. Hang on, Summer! He came up on a suspect unexpectedly and ducked behind the edge of a container when the guy opened fire.
Greene wasn’t anywhere in sight. Had the perp shot him?
Fuck.
Distant gunfire broke out, but he didn’t let it distract him. He slipped out of his coat and left it near the edge of the container.
Somewhere to his left, more gunfire echoed. He pulled his weapon and aimed it at the edge of the container, blinking rain from his eyes.
“FBI, drop your weapon.”
The bullet cleaved into the metal near his head, sparks flew, and a loud ping echoed.
So much for the nice approach.
Sliding back and keeping to the shadows, he ran hunched over along the metal until he reached the other side. A perp down the next aisle opened fire.
He pulled the trigger, the weapon jumped, and the perp fell. Kicking the perp’s gun away on his way past, he reached the corner and peeked around. Another shot hit the edge and he ducked back.
Okay, here went nothing. Swinging his arm around, he fired. A grunt, a shuffle, and then a thud. Lunging out for another look, the perp lay sprawled on the asphalt. He ran to the guy and kicked the gun away.
“Hey.”
He swung around, gun up.
Hardier stood there holding a hand over a bullet wound in his opposite arm. Hardier was not wearing an FBI vest.
“Hey.” He eased one foot forward and kept his arms steady, keeping his gun aimed at Hardier’s chest. “Turn around slowly and put your hands on your head.”
Hardier turned and placed his back to him.
“Put your hands up.”
“Kind of hard to do that,” Hardier hissed.
“Who are you working with?”
Hardier’s shoulders twitched, his arm shifted. Was he going for a gun?
“Don’t, Hardier, I will shoot you.” His hand tightened around the grip. “Tell me who you’re working for.”
A gunshot echoed in the dark.
He jerked.
Hardier toppled to the ground.
Beyond the fallen agent stood Renee Fossil, feet apart, arms outstretched, holding a gun pointed at Hardier’s body.
“Are you okay?” Her eyes snapped to him before she stalked over to Hardier and rolled him over and pressed her fingers to the agent’s neck. “Dead.” She took a gun from Hardier’s waistband.
“What the hell? Why’d you shoot him?”
“You’re kidding, right?” She tucked Hardier’s gun into her pants and stepped back into the shadows before she disappeared completely into the darkness.
No, he wasn’t kidding. Gritting his teeth, he stalked after her, but a bullet hit the canister near his shoulder and he dropped low. Son of a bitches were thick, crawling around here like the ant hill he’d had as a kid. Only his ants hadn’t been trying to kill him.
He fired without calling out and identifying himself and a body toppled to the ground. Breaking regulations again. Screw it. Calling out just gave away his location to the perps and he wasn’t going to die tonight.
Something hard hit his right arm and pain splintered up at his forearm, his hand went numb and his gun went flying. He dropped to one knee and with his other leg, he kicked out, catching the perp in the knee. The crack filled the air when the bone broke and the guy screamed. Slamming to the cement, the board the man held toppled to the ground with a hollow thud.
He stepped in and aimed a foot at the guy’s head just as two more men appeared.
Okay, this might not end well.
His foot connected to the man’s head.