Chapter Thirteen
Taking the knife to her one remaining sleeve, Mel sliced it off, ripped the silk down the middle and hunched over, re-bandaging her feet. She’d used her other sleeve to wrap them earlier but had discarded those makeshift bandages before crawling into the ventilation ducts, not wanting the fabric to snag on anything. Now on the ground again, she didn’t want to leave a trail of blood or compromise her ability to move swiftly. She cinched each strip tight, picked the knife up off the floor and righted herself.
To come face-to-face with Mitch.
Her Deputy Chief of Security.
The traitor.
Her first instinct was to the hurl the knife at his throat. But murder would only slow her down and complicate matters. She needed to neutralize the threat and move on to her primary objective. Hostage evac.
“How’d you get on board?” Mitch asked. When would have been the better question, if he was going to pretend he wasn’t one of the bad guys. He realized his mistake a second later, adding, “When’d you get here?”
He had to know by now that she was the one wreaking havoc below deck. She hadn’t exactly been subtle about it. But he didn’t seem to think that she knew he was working with Lynch. That ignorance might buy her a minute to get into position and immobilize him, not the other way around. Several inches taller and at least a hundred pounds heavier, the older man could out-muscle her. But she could outmaneuver him.
She grasped the knife tighter as she inched around him. “Mitch, what’s going on?” she asked, playing along with the charade.
“Sonja Lynch hijacked the ship,” he said, as he readjusted his gun in his meaty grip. “Says she’s IRA and is here for revenge against the Talleys.”
Mel moved so her back was to the open corridor, not the wall, giving her more room to work. “Why are you down here?”
Less aware of his surroundings, Mitch had allowed himself to be turned so his back was to a corner. “Uh, I snuck out.” He fumbled for a better explanation. “I was coming down here to call you.”
“Where are the Talleys now?”
“I hid them in the stateroom.”
“I thought you came down here to call me.”
By the flare of his eyes, he knew he’d been caught in a lie. Mel didn’t give him a chance to lift his sidearm. She swung up a leg, kicking him first in the crotch with the top of her foot, then in his hunched-over shoulder with her heel, slamming him back into the corner. His gun rattled to the ground, and Mel kicked it clear.
“Twenty years of loyalty and you betray them now?” she said.
His eyes glittered, dark and angry. “Twenty years of loyalty, and when it was my turn to be chief, you skipped the fucking line.”
Charging forward, Mitch tried to put his bulky mass to use. Mel ducked left, under his flailing arm, coming up on his other side and kicking him in the back.
He stumbled forward but didn’t go down, righting himself and turning back to her. They circled each other, neither about to get stuck in the corner again. “So that’s what this is all about?” Mel said. “You sold your soul out of professional jealousy.”
“It’s not jealousy. It’s what’s fair. It’s not fair you got the job just because you’re sleeping with the boss’s son.”
Mitch charged again, like he was in a bar brawl, and she sidestepped once more. This time, though, she grabbed his trailing wrist, bent it up behind him and shoved him to his knees. “One, Danny’s the boss now.” She loomed over him, bending his arm up and back until he was cursing. “Two, I got the job because I’m better at it than you.”
He wrestled in her hold. “The ship got hijacked on your watch.”
“Your watch, technically.”
He surged up, trying to force her back, and she rolled over his back, taking his arm with her, using her momentum and leverage to flip him. His back hit the ground, air whooshing out of him, and as soon as the shock wore off, he clutched at his dislocated shoulder, groaning in pain.
Mel stood over him, keeping him down with the point of her knife. “And it got hijacked because you’re not loyal. That’s why you didn’t get the job. The Talleys don’t have to ask that question of me.”
There was no question of her loyalty. Or her love.
The metal beneath her feet vibrated—more mercs closing in. She lowered onto a knee, knife pressed against Mitch’s throat.
The show of force was unnecessary. Aidan rounded the corner, leading his tactical team. His face was pinched, stressed, but the corners of his mouth twitched, fighting a smirk. “I see you started without me.”
“Your fiancé said the same thing.” She hauled Mitch up roughly, handed him over to Aidan’s men, and demanded a report.
“Nic’s leading a team around the other side,” Aidan said. “We’re coming from this one. We need to move fast before word gets back to Lynch and she accelerates the clock or does something to...” His words trailed off, swallowed by an audible gulp.
Mel squeezed his shoulder. “We have to trust them.”
He smiled weakly. “I know. They’ve been here before.”
“We’re in position,” Nic radioed.
“I’ve got Mel,” Aidan returned. “We’re on our way. In position in five.”
She made to follow Aidan’s tactical unit that had flared out in front of them, but her best friend’s hand on her arm stopped her.
“Married, huh?” he said, brow raised.
She shrugged one shoulder, smiling. “Couldn’t be helped.”