But first she had to eat or Rion would be all over her. In the mess, she filled her plate and they ate in silence, her focus on getting intel on this guy and then finding some leverage.

As soon as she finished her last bite, Wicked sat up taller and he had the look of a man who was listening to his earpiece.

“In the mess with Kat,” he replied. “But I don’t want to leave her alone, LT.”

“It’s all right, Wicked. I’m in the compound. I’m fine.” This couldn’t have worked out better.

“I have a debrief. Are you sure—”

“I’m sure. Go. Stop hovering like a mother hen. Cluck, cluck.”

He eyed her, but her dig didn’t seem to faze him. “On my way, LT. ETA five minutes.”

He rose with his tray. “Get some sleep, Kat.”

“Copy that,” she responded, but as soon as he disappeared out the door, she headed straight for the command center. That’s where Michael would be. Walking inside the office, she spied him on the phone. When he saw her, he motioned her in.

She sat in a chair across from his commandeered desk. “That’s valuable information. Good work. Send it over now.”

He hung up the phone and held up his finger when she was about to speak. He pressed keys on his laptop and the printer next to the desk turned on and pages started spitting out into the receiving tray.

He reached for a folder and gathered up the pages. Handing them to her, he said, “Get what you can out of him. This will give you some leverage.”

“Thank you.”

She rose and walked down the hall and out of the command center to the detainee building, Michael following. Inside they showed their badges and the guard took them into the facility, down the hall to a door. Michael went into the small room with two-way glass to observe. When the guard opened the door, she couldn’t hide her enthusiasm or pleasure to find the man who had tortured her for days. He scowled, acknowledging that she was now the one with the upper hand. FB was sitting at a small table. She nodded to the guard and went inside, and he closed it behind her.

She took a seat at the table, the file in her hand. His eyes flicked to it, then to her face. He scowled at her, the handcuffs rustling as he moved his hands against the ring in the table. He might want to throttle her, but unless he was Superman and could bend iron, he was out of luck.

His face was bruised, and a white bandage showed at his collarbone and on his forearm. He was lucky he was alive. Navy SEALs played for keeps.

She opened the folder and smiled. “I don’t think we’ve been properly introduced.” He said nothing. “I’m afraid silence isn’t going to work for you, Mr. Borkov.” His lips tightened, but he didn’t respond. “May I call you Luka?”

“What do you want?”

“I want Amanda Mack’s location.”

He smirked. “Your colleague is dead, and her body is in a very secure location. It will take an army to get to her.”

Kat worked hard in not showing any reaction on her face. She took a breath to ease the awful ache and shock to her system. There was nothing she could do for her now except bring her home. “Nevertheless, I want that information.”

He sat back, the cuffs clinking. She knew the posture. This was a “fuck you” position.

She pulled a photo out of the folder and slid it across the table. His face blanched and he growled low.

“Your sister. I believe she’s just been admitted to the university. I’m sure the Kirikhanistan government would like to know she’s related to a known rebel. You can spare her any embarrassment or harassment.”

His eyes narrowed, and he sat forward, the cuff chains pulling tight. She wasn’t afraid of him. She’d already kicked his ass. “How about in good faith we trade bodies.”

She stiffened. “Abram Golovkin.”

“Precisely. You tell me where he is, and my people can give him a decent burial. That is a fair trade. It’s why we took her.”

She rose, walked out of the room, and went into the small viewing room.

“Did you have something to do with Golovkin’s disappearance? Apparently, he’s dead,” Michael said, the granite in his tone setting up the kind of confrontation Kat knew was inevitable from the information Borkov had just spewed. Michael folded his arms across his chest, his eyes snapping. He might be her boss, but he didn’t have to know everything she did. In the CIA, knowledge was the prize. Sometimes people had to die to get at what they needed. Then, again, sometimes it was simply about defending the people who deserved to be defended.

When Michael was pissed, his whole body tightened into a hard, unmoving mass. But Kat didn’t give a damn about whose toes she stepped on when carrying out her or her superior’s directive. She acted on whatever made sense to her, dictated by her own honor and conscience. Her chin lifted, her gaze unflinching. “My actions were to protect a SEAL and his girlfriend, a navy diver. I also got the warhead information from him as well. Washington didn’t have a problem with that intel.”

“Dammit, Kat. Going off the rails isn’t the best way to handle situations.”

“I went rogue, and I would do it again.” She stepped closer. What she had done to Golovkin was in the past. He was dead and buried beneath a thick layer of snow. The heart of the matter had nothing to do with what she had done for the SEALs who had always covered her back. This, the heart of the matter, Kat’s heart was about Amanda. She wasn’t going to stand by while Amanda’s body could be recovered. Giving up Golovkin’s location was minuscule compared to Kat’s determination to see her friend come home to rest. “On the trade of information, I—”

“No.”

The finality of his tone irked her even as it opened up the old wound of her dad’s disappearance. “What?” The flood of emotion swamped her, and she lost her footing for a moment. She fought the shock and sudden weakness, battling back into anger. Using that emotion, she clenched her fist wanting to plant it into Michael’s face hard enough to make him change his mind. “We can’t leave Amanda out there. We owe it to her to bring—”

“I’m not disputing that. We’re not trading information with Borkov. We’re not opening up any Kirikhanistan government problems. If they get wind of this, it could cost us in an exchange of information. It’s not worth the risk. We’ll get her another way.”

“You can’t be serious, Michael! How? You heard what he said. We’ll need the exact location to get her body out.” When he was unmoved, she shouted, “You can’t leave her there!”

“You’re already walking a thin line, Kat. The Golovkin incident and coming here wasn’t your mission to choose.”

Kat narrowed her eyes and stared at Michael, trying to corral her anger. “She was there for me! How could I not try to find her when she was reported missing? At the very least, we need to know how they knew she was CIA and if her mission was compromised. She was here for the warheads. If one of them is used against civilians, it’s another black eye for the US. How will Washington feel about that?”

A look of anger and frustration on his face, Michael shook his head and angrily stared off into space. Finally, he met Kat’s eyes, the unrelenting look in his eyes deflating her hope she could get through to him. This wasn’t just about warheads and intel or even if they were compromised, this was about a brave woman’s death, their duty to bring her home and her sacrifice meaning something.

“I don’t need you to tell me this is a sensitive and volatile situation, Kat.” He jabbed his finger at her, and she took a step back. “You should have talked to me. I can only cover your ass so far. You have your orders, and I have mine. The answer is no.”

He left the room, and Kat just stood there, guilt, sorrow, and anger swirling into a volatile mix. She stormed out of the detention center and back to the barracks. She plopped down on the bed and sat there, her stomach churning. Suddenly, tears pushed at the backs of her eyes, the fatigue and trauma of the last forty-eight hours catching up to her.

She covered her face.

Hollywood leaned against the side of the building where they had their prisoner. He’d been curious about the man who had captured their wild Kat who seemed almost invincible. But it was clear Kat wasn’t quite in control here. Hollywood was appalled that Brandon, the rat bastard, wouldn’t go after one of their own. Maybe he could do something about that. He certainly could pull a rabbit out of his hat when the circumstances were right. And, they just might be.

He’d overheard Kat and Brandon’s shouting match over Amanda, the other missing operative. It was clear from watching Kat exit the building and stride across the compound just as the sun was going down, that she and Amanda were close. He knew all about teammates and just how far each and every member would go. One look at her ravaged, angry face, and he was determined to make a difference. She had been there for them with Blue and Charlie. She was fearless and strong. She was one of them now.

The sun was fully on the far-off mountain range, snow glistening a bright white. Damn, he missed skiing. He’d grown up in Vermont practically with a snowboard strapped to his feet. The crisp, cool air didn’t bother him a bit. As he headed toward the command center to get himself a jeep, a man came out of the building.

They both stopped dead and stared at each other. A smile split Hollywood’s face, and the kind of friendship, the kind of brotherhood that he shared with his team, crashed into him along with the joy of unexpectedly seeing family. “Dozer! What the fuck? I haven’t seen you…geez, has it been three years?” He and Joe Colson had gone to BUD/S together, served on the same team for three years before Hollywood had been assigned to his current team. Joe had gone out of the service with an injury.

“Jude fucking Lock. What the hell you been up to?”

“Shooting from the hip as usual. You?”

“Got me a gig with the Defense Intelligence Agency, its clandestine service.”

“DIA, huh?” He rapped Dozer on the forehead. “You using your smarts?”

Dozer laughed and nudged Hollywood. “Same as you, my friend. Brain over brawn.”

Hollywood laughed and considered himself lucky to have met Joe. He was a six foot five, two-hundred-and-thirty-pound beast, a jiu-jitsu expert, highly decorated former SEAL, and one of the best friends Hollywood had ever had, as close as one of his brothers—biological and team.

His shaved head, piercing blue eyes, massive shoulders, and thick forearms all earned him the name of Dozer.

“What are you doing here in this cesspool of a country?” Hollywood asked.

“This and that.”

“Ah, going to give me a stone wall, man? You know I have one of the highest classified ratings in the military.”

“Maybe if it comes up, I’ll tell you. Right now, where are you heading? We could go get a drink.”

“I’m heading out on a possible hookup, and I don’t want to scare her away.”

“I should have known there would be a woman somewhere in this scenario, you dog.”

“Hey, I can’t help it if I’m lovable.”

“When did you have time to meet her? She CIA?”

“As much as I like a lusty, fit officer who could kill me with her bare hands, I got approached by a pretty nurse at the hospital.”

“Where they took Kat?”

“Yes, you know about her abduction?”

He nodded. “We were briefed. She’s the kind of person I would go into hell for. I’m glad she’s okay.”

“Agreed.” He smiled at Dozer. “You want to go on an adventure?”

“Will this get me into hot water?”

“Probably. I can’t make any promises.”

Dozer chuckled. “How can I refuse?”

“Ha! Exactly. I’ll always show you a good time.”

“You’re making me blush.”

“Actually, I have a story about blushing you’ll be interested in.”

Fifteen minutes later, Hollywood was standing in front of Inna’s apartment building in a middle-class section of Kumma. He smiled as he reached for the buzzer and dialed her number. Her voice came over the speaker. “Yes?”

“It’s Hollywood.”

“Oh, yes, come up.”

The door buzzed, and he went through. He ignored the elevator and climbed the stairs two at a time to release the built-up sexual tension in his body. When he reached her apartment door, he knocked, and it opened. She was completely naked, and he laughed as she grabbed his jacket and pulled him inside.

“You are a very pretty man,” she said softly, her mouth covering his as she kissed him. She ran her hands up and over his biceps and across his shoulders. “Pretty muscles, too.”

She pushed his jacket off and pulled his T-shirt over his head, then reached for his jeans. He slid his hand over her breast, and she closed her eyes and breathed out hard, gasping as he pinched her nipple. She cupped him through his jeans, his dick rock hard, the pleasure rushing through him like adrenaline.

“You want to just fuck? No small talk?” He groaned softly as she squeezed him.

“No. Just fuck.”

“That works. We’re clear on the rules, right? One night only.”

“Very clear.”

“Excellent.”

She didn’t wait for any encouragement. She unbuckled his belt and released the zipper. His dick sprang free. Looking down, she let out a soft moan. Yeah, he got what it took in the package area, and this reaction wasn’t anything new.

Before his pants dropped, he grabbed a condom out of the back pocket. He always brought his own, never trusting a woman to have them, or to try to trap him with a pregnancy. He was after hot and dirty sex, and he intended for her to enjoy the experience as well. He always left them satisfied. So, flaming monkey sex was his goal, but the birth control gave him peace of mind.

He unwrapped it and rolled it along his shaft, sliding his hand around it, the pleasure pulsing through him.

He crowded her against the wall, looping his arm under her thigh. He lifted her leg and fit himself in between. She was already wet and aroused, and his erection slid along her slick flesh, the head of his cock burrowing into her tight sex.

She wrapped her arms around his neck and shuddered. He lifted her, and she wrapped her legs around his waist.

He began to move against her. She arched her back, thrusting her chest against his, gyrating her hips in rhythm to his thrusts. Her nails scored his shoulders where she hung on, her hand pressing between them to touch her clit.

He kissed her deeply, then playfully. He nipped the side of her neck, murmured hot, sexy words to her as they moved together. The pleasure built and intensified, thickening his dick until the pleasure was almost unbearable. Her kisses grew more urgent, more carnal, his thrusts deeper, driving, straining, filling her to the hilt, the head of his cock tingling with pleasure at the apex of his thrust.

“Oh, Hollywood,” she groaned, then drifted off into her native language, the hot sexy words and the look of rapture on her face as she locked her legs around him only brought him closer to exploding. That deliciously hot and intense feeling enveloped him and threatened to consume him.

He slipped his hand between them and touched the bud of her clit, taking her over the edge. Taking them both over the edge.

“Fuck,” he murmured as he came.

After a few minutes, he released her, and she slid slickly down his body. “That was the best fuck I have ever had.”

He grinned. “It’s not over, honey. I’m just getting warmed up.”

“Oh, really,” she whispered.

They moved to the bed, and it wasn’t long before he was hard again. An hour later, he reclined on her bed, his eyes closed, but his senses alert. When the cold steel of a pistol pressed against his temple, he opened his eyes and turned his head. A woman stood there; Inna was on her knees, tears running down her cheeks. She was still naked. “I’m so sorry,” she said, her voice breaking. “She made me do it.”

“Get up,” the stunning woman said, steel in her voice. Hollywood smiled. The sweet brunette was dressed in leather, the jacket full of buckles and zippers. The boots were shear dominatrix as was the unrelenting look in her brown eyes and the determination in her delicate features. Her beauty would easily get her close enough to slice off a man’s balls.

With a lightning quick move, he knocked the gun away, and the silenced shot went into the mattress. He twisted her wrist, and she cried out, the gun falling from her hand. He was already out of the bed, buck-assed naked, kicking the weapon away as he brought her to her knees. Women were cunning, and Hollywood wasn’t surprised when she pulled a knife and sliced a shallow stinging cut on his thigh before his dodge instinct kicked in. Warm blood seeped and trickled down his leg.

He’d been expecting this kind of ambush since Inna had approached him at the hospital. If it hadn’t been a set-up, he would have gotten dressed and gone drinking with Dozer. Blocking her wrist for another strike to the groin sent him slightly off balance. The woman twisted and swept his feet out from under him. He let go of her hand, and she lunged for the gun. Inna watched them with hopeful eyes; bound and cowed, there was nothing she could do.

The woman was fast and light on her feet. She kicked out at him, aiming for his groin again, and he twisted away at the last minute before she could connect. She rose, balancing on the balls of her feet. She was a skilled opponent. It was a good thing he was an expert at hand to hand.

She threw her body at Hollywood, and she bore him back. She used her foot to trip him, and he fell to his back. She straddled his chest, leaning down to grab his hair and slam his head against the floor. He saw stars.

Then he found her ankle. Grasping it, he threw her legs up and propelled himself forward. The motion sent the crazy bitch backwards, and Hollywood clamped his legs around her middle.

He squeezed, put all his strength into it, knowing if he didn’t stop her, he wouldn’t be able to get Inna free.

There was no way she was dying tonight.

Blood seeped from his wound as he pressed harder and heard her breath labor. Harder still, and Hollywood felt rib bones give under the pressure. One cracked, then another, and the woman screamed, pushed at his legs. The tortured sound made Inna cringe and whimper.

Refusing to let her go as she gasped for air, Hollywood pressed until she had none left in her lungs. The woman faded into unconsciousness. Hollywood released her, kicking her away, noticing the tat on her arm as he jumped to his feet.

The woman regained consciousness in moments, and with both hands, Hollywood grabbed her by the shirt and dragged her to her feet. She could barely stand upright.

“Lights out, honey,” he said, then landed two sharp, quick punches to her face. Cartilage folded, and blood poured.

The woman’s eyes rolled, legs softening, and he released her. She fell, her head bouncing on the floor.

Hollywood exhaled as Inna started to sob softly.

He knelt down and untied her. “Get out of here and don’t look back. Don’t contact anyone,” he said softly into her ear.

“She threatened my family.”

“I understand. Get going,” he ordered, lifting her up from the floor and giving her a little push. Her eyes widened, but he’d already felt the woman’s presence.

He turned to find her holding the gun.

“Run, Inna.”

She bolted out of the apartment, and the woman let her go.

“Get dressed. If you try anything, I’ll shoot you, then I’ll go and kill her and her family.”

“No trouble,” he murmured as he slowly reached for his jeans.

Wicked stepped out of the shower, a towel around his waist as he walked back to the barracks in his combat boots. He stopped dead when he saw Kat sitting on a bunk, her head in her hands.

Kat didn’t cry. Ever. Well, maybe that was because she was alone, and it was the only time she allowed herself to break down. He had no idea what kind of burden she was carrying as she didn’t confide in him, but he couldn’t seem to keep offering the olive branch with the hope that she would accept it.

Fuck him. He fucking cared about her.

He walked over to her and crouched down. “Talk to me, Kat.”

She jerked upright and stared at him, her ravaged face breaking his damn heart.

“I have to. I—” She started a couple of times, then closed her mouth.

“Take it easy, wild Kat. There’s no hurry.” She looked on the verge of a scream.

“I came to Kumma without CIA orders to find Amanda. She took over for me when I got food poisoning at the last minute.”

“This is all about guilt and obligation?”

She scoffed. “No. It’s about covering her back. It’s about a promise. You’d do anything for your brothers.”

It wasn’t a question. He sighed and nodded. “I would. I’d give up my life for them.”

She stared at him, her eyes dark and fixed, then she swallowed hard and abruptly turned her head, her expression starkly contained. Wicked watched her for a moment; then looked down, waiting for her to continue.

“She and I…she was there that day…”

She hunched her shoulders as he met her eyes, the power of her pain reaching out and capturing him, churning up the utter agony of losing his brother. “Of course, I remember her from that op, but I had no idea she was that close to you.”

“How could you? I closed you out, and I have been closed for five years.” He reached out and clasped her hand, squeezing briefly, trying to handle his own emotions. She was turning him inside out. “She was comfort and support. She was my lifeline. Without her, I would have lost myself.”

The torture of her emotions flowed into her words. God, he’d wanted to be that for her. He’d wanted it the moment he’d walked out of that fiery explosion carrying the man she loved in his arms. But she had never been his to hold or comfort, and she never would be. There was just too much standing between them.

If only he could let her go.

Her eyes went glassy. “Amanda had her arms around me when they loaded Phoenix’s casket with the flag into the belly of the jet that would take him home. I remember standing there, the field behind the plane filled with purple wildflowers. I love purple flowers. I wanted them at my wedding.”

She looked at him, quiet for a moment, and Wicked saw the horrible memory in her eyes.

“He was gone. Just gone. And you…you almost died, too.”

Wicked didn’t think she realized she was crying so hard, her shoulders lurching with nearly every word.

“I was so glad you recovered his body.” With a flat hand, Kat patted her chest. “I would have searched the rubble until I found him no matter how long it took. Fallen heroes deserve to be honored, deserve to be found and brought home. But he won’t go after her, just like they didn’t find my dad.” She covered her eyes, trying to control her sobbing.

Wicked’s heart contracted for her, for them, her voice fracturing with every word.

“Who won’t go after her?” he whispered, reaching out and pushing back a long strand of damp hair, hooking it over her ear.

“Michael. He’s more worried about politics and covering his ass. I can’t leave her out there, Wicked.” She swallowed, her voice getting stronger. “We can’t leave her behind.”

“I don’t give a damn what Brandon thinks or does,” Wicked said, his eyes narrowing, his mouth tightening.

“She died for her country, and I am not leaving her out there.”

“Damn straight. Do you know where she is?”

She stood, rubbing at her face. “Technically, yes, the rebel stronghold. Concretely, no. Our prisoner won’t say. He did say we’d need a small army to get her out.”

“We’re SEALs. We don’t need a damned army,” Wicked growled.

“I’m coming with you. Michael won’t like it.”

“I don’t give a flying fuck. We don’t leave anyone behind…ever,” he said low and fierce, giving her a brisk nod.

“Hoo-yah,” she said.

His mouth kicked up. He reached down into his pocket and grabbed his earpiece. Turning it on, he slid it into his ear. “LT?”

“Yes,” Ruckus said.

“We have a situation here with a CIA operative.” He told his boss what Kat had said, and Ruckus responded that he would contact the brass and to hang tight until he got a response.

“Copy that,” Wicked said.

He was acutely aware that Kat finally noticed that he wasn’t dressed. The air heated and the tension ramped up as they stood there. Then she dropped her eyes down his body as if against her will, lingering on his chest, sliding to his waist and his groin. He shifted, and her eyes snapped back to his face.

Wicked’s jaw flexed and his body tightened.

She inched closer, her voice low and damn sexy. “You need to get dressed unless you have somewhere you can stash your weapon.”

“I always keep my weapon on me at all times.”

She blinked. The intensity of her green eyes made his muscles flex. Fury now bounced off her in waves. She was a dangerous woman to cross, her tears be damned. She’d recovered pretty strongly. Kat never stayed down for long. But her vulnerability had cut him to the bone. It was the first time she’d ever opened up to him since that awful day. He wondered if this might be a turning point for them. Hope blossomed only to be tamped down again. There were never any guarantees with Kat. She wasn’t going to forgive him easily, but right now she needed him, needed the team that had her back and always would, just as he said.

“I’ve always worked alone until I was assigned to your team. It’s been easier that way. I have a job to do, and you make it damned difficult.”

Wicked was snagged by that voice, those serious green eyes penetrating any wall he put between them. She was damn righteous and determined.

“We both have a job to do, and I don’t like to fail. Once was enough.” For a second, Wicked felt a tinge of fear for her, but anger quickly smothered it. She would never forget that he had been responsible for the death of the man she loved.

“Yes, with devastating consequences.” Her eyes darkened. “Amanda is dead in my stead, Wicked. We will bring her home or die trying. Fuck Michael and the whole freaking CIA. They can kiss my ass.”

“Hoo-yah,” he said this time.

She stepped closer, her voice low and her scent stirring everything in him. The rage in her tone was subtle. “This doesn’t change a thing between us.” She shifted away, and he lightly caught her arm.

“I don’t have any expectations where you’re concerned, Kat.”

She looked pointedly down at her arm, her eyes simmering with anger.

He let her go, his hand burning with the feel of her skin. He was aware that Kat had more secrets to tell, and he wanted to be the one she confided in. It was in her nature to keep her knowledge under wraps. He had no idea why she’d been assigned to Kumma or what her mission was. Damn the CIA and their secrecy. He clenched his jaw. He understood about the agency and their tight security, but this was Kat and he wanted to know what the hell was going on.

Her eyes went over him in a heated slide, lingering, then she said, “For God’s sake, get dressed.”

“Kat,” he moved closer hemming her in and forcing her to look him in the eye. “Be smart or I’ll haul your sweet ass over my shoulder again.”

“I will kick your fine ass if you try,” she snarled.

“Is that so?”

“Someday, Wicked,” she said, stepping away from him. “Don’t go all gallant and try to protect me. You’ll get killed. So, do yourself a favor and back off.”

He got closer and gently grabbed her chin, studying her bruised face, wanting to punch something hard. “No can do, babe.”

For a split second, her eyes softened, and the tension drained out of her as she searched his eyes. Then she pulled her chin out of his grasp, the wall crashing down between them. Why couldn’t he just let this woman go? Was it because they had so much history between them? Unfinished business?

She reached down and flicked the knot in the towel, and he had to grab it to keep it from unraveling. She gave him a mocking look, then walked away.

Softly he murmured. “Don’t you know I would die for you, wild Kat.”