Chapter Twenty-Seven
5:35 a.m.
Trinity Sands Resort
Lobby
“Looks like we missed the party,” Ian said and lowered his gun.
Lanie scanned the lobby, counting heads. Only when she saw all of her people accounted for and whole did her heart rate slow to something below jackhammer. Ever since they’d heard the gunshots, she’d feared the worst, but her first priority had been to get Connor and the rest of the recruits out of the hotel to safety.
“What happened?” she asked nobody in particular.
“FUBAR happened,” Harvard said as he walked by with a stack of sheets. He had a bit of a limp, a split lip, and his Star Wars T-shirt was torn and spattered with blood, but otherwise he seemed all right. As he filled them in on what went down, he draped a sheet over one of the dead men on the floor, then continued on to the next in line.
In all, she counted four bodies. One had definitely been a hostage, judging by his clothes. Another was the man Tank had bit—teeth must’ve hit an artery. The third was another of Briggs’s crew, the guy Jean-Luc had neutralized. And the fourth was Briggs himself.
“Well, shit,” she said softly and motioned to Briggs with the tip of her weapon. “How did that happen?”
Harvard glanced over his shoulder at the body. “He was fired. Schumacher gave him his pink slip.”
She whistled softly. “That’s one way to handle HR.”
Harvard cracked a smile, which must have stung like hell because of his lip. “Don’t give Gabe and Quinn any ideas.”
She smiled back at him. It was impossible not to when he used that awkward, nerdy charm of his. “Where’s Jesse?”
He motioned to the sweeping expanse of windows. “Outside tending to the wounded. Where else? Tuc called. Back-up should be here any minute.”
“About time. Thanks.” She squeezed his shoulder as she passed. She’d intended to find Jesse and let him know Connor was safe, but as she neared the window, she saw the cavalry had indeed arrived in the form Tucker Quentin and a convoy of large trucks and vans. The beach and parking lot were full of people. Somewhere in the distance, police sirens finally sounded.
A little late, guys.
Still, she was glad to see them.
At the hotel’s front entrance, she paused to watch Jesse and Connor. If the emotional reunion had already happened, they sure weren’t acting like it. Jesse was sorting the wounded into vehicles, while Connor sat sullenly with Sami and several of the other recruits. Jesus. Those two. After everything, they were still being stubborn, neither wanting to break down first.
“’Scuse me, Lanie.” Marcus came up behind her carrying Jesse’s well-worn medical bag. “Jesse needed his kit,” he explained as she stepped aside to let him pass.
“Hey,” she called after him. “Earlier you quoted Point Break. The first one. The good one.”
He flashed a grin over his shoulder. “Nice catch.”
“‘Shall we play a game?’”
He didn’t turn back, but snapped his fingers. “WarGames, 1983. You need to do better than that if you want to stump me.”
“Oh, it’s on, Deangelo.”
Now he did turn and crooked his hand in the Neo “bring it” wave from The Matrix.
She laughed and stepped through the door, enjoying the rush of cool morning air against her skin. The sun wasn’t quite up and the humidity hadn’t yet cranked to unbearable levels. For the first time all night, she felt like she could finally breathe. She closed her eyes and savored the feeling of oxygen flowing freely in and out of her lungs.
From somewhere over by the vans, she heard Jean-Luc’s voice. “Hey, Quentin. The resort is top rate. Gorgeous views, friendly staff, excellent food, and bonus points for the crew of homicidal mercenaries. Who doesn’t want a bit of adrenaline with their Caribbean vacation? Five stars.”
Then Tucker’s wry reply: “You’re welcome back anytime.”
“Yippee,” Jean-Luc said with zero enthusiasm.
Laughing softly to herself, she opened her eyes and glanced over in time to see Jean-Luc being loaded into the back of one of the vans on a stretcher. He was still ghostly pale, but he was joking around, so she had no doubt he’d be fine.
They were all okay. Her guys would all be okay.
Tucker Quentin stood at the back of the van, consulting with some of his men. She should go thank him. Without his help, they wouldn’t have gotten into the building in the first place.
She started toward the group, but changed her mind and detoured when she spotted Danny sitting on one of the resort’s beach loungers, a rifle balanced across his lap. He stared out across the calm water at the rising sun on the horizon, but she had the feeling he wasn’t seeing Mother Nature’s gorgeous painting of pinks and oranges.
She sat down on the lounger beside him and dragged her hands through her hair. Her braids were falling out and her hair frizzed wildly around her face. The way she had to keep scooping it back, she felt like a sheep dog and wondered not for the first time if she should buzz it all off and just go natural.
But Jesse liked her hair. And, honestly, so did she. It was a lot of work to maintain, but she liked her hair long. Her one vanity.
God, that was a girly thought. She sighed at herself and drummed up a smile for Danny. “You okay?”
He didn’t answer for a long moment, then blinked and looked over at her like he just realized she was sitting there and had spoken. “Huh?”
She knocked her shoulder into his. “You look a bit shell-shocked.”
He gave a half laugh. “Guess I am. That was… Seeing the guys in action… It wasn’t like the training exercise. Jean-Luc taking on Schumacher like that when he could barely stand? Man. And then Jesse lunging after him? And Gabe, Quinn, and Harvard? They moved like one person when they decided to attack.” He shook his head. “I’ve never seen anything like it.”
“I know.” She smiled, remembering her first encounter with HORNET. “I felt the same way the first time. Shocked, but also—”
“Exhilarated,” he finished.
“Yeah. Exactly.”
He looked back out over the horizon. “I was just thinking about my wife. Leah didn’t want me coming here. We don’t fight about much, but we fought about this. She wants me to stay with the Bureau until I retire, but…”
“You want more.”
His gaze dropped to the weapon on his lap and he picked it up. “HORNET does a good thing. They help people, which is all I’ve ever wanted to do. But more and more, with all the politics and red tape in the Bureau, I’m not helping anyone. I feel…useless.”
“Oh, I get it.” Lanie scooped up a handful of sand and let it run through her fingers. “Last year, I was in the same boat. I’d worked my entire life to be a Texas Ranger like my dad was. I finally got there, and I wasn’t satisfied. When I met HORNET, I thought, this is where I belong.”
Her smile faded. At the time, it had seemed like such a clear-cut thing. It was as if she’d been in a dark tunnel and someone had handed her a flashlight. Now she wasn’t so sure. Maybe she’d won over the respect of the other guys tonight, but Jesse would never see her as a teammate. To him, she’d only ever be a lover.
God, sleeping with him had been a mistake. She wished she could chalk it up to temporary insanity, but she knew better. She’d wanted Jesse ever since he’d shown back up in her life last year. And as much as she knew she should, she couldn’t regret any of it.
“I told Gabe I want in,” Danny said in a rush, then pushed out a breath. “But I’m not looking forward to having this conversation with my wife.”
“Hey.” Lanie again knocked her shoulder into his. “I’m not usually all that great at girly stuff, but I do know one thing. If she loves you, she’ll support any decision you make.”
Behind them, a heavy foot crunched in the sand and she glanced back, hoping to see Jesse, but unsurprised to find Marcus approaching. She raised a hand in greeting, and a flash of light from the roof of the building behind him caught her attention. A dull, perfectly round glint…like the rising sun reflecting off a lens.
Sniper.
“Get down.” Her voice came out a croak. She tried again. “Get down! Sniper!”
Marcus didn’t hesitate and dropped so fast that at first she was afraid he’d been shot.
Danny lunged to push her out of the way, but they were both too late. Too slow. Heat stripped her side and she heard a faint umph from Danny. Then more heat and wetness soaking through her shirt and…
Blood. So much blood, seeping out all over her hands as she rolled Danny to his back.
“Jesse!” Her shout was ragged, and not as loud as she’d wanted it to be. “Jesse, help! Danny’s shot!”
She tried to stop the blood from pumping out of the ragged hole in Danny’s chest while he gasped for oxygen and his face lost all color.
Oh God, it was like Gabe all over again, just in the sand this time instead of snow. This was going to destroy Jesse.
Footsteps pounded all around her and big, hard, male bodies crowded in.
“Where is he? Where’s the sniper?” someone asked. She didn’t know who, didn’t care. She pointed at the building without looking up.
Marcus scrambled over on his hands and knees. He drew up short when he saw the damage and his complexion also lost color. “Oh fuck. Dan, hang on. Jesse’s coming. He’ll fix you up. Just hang on.” He gripped Danny’s hand and used his other to help put pressure on the wound.
Breathing hard, Lanie backed away. A tremendous pressure crushed her chest. Danny wouldn’t die. Jesse would do everything in his power to make sure of that.
The guys had surrounded Danny, formed a human wall. All of them—Gabe, Quinn, Harvard, Seth, Ian, and Tank—putting their lives on the line to protect him. Even Jean-Luc had pulled himself out of the van and stood guard with them, scanning the rooftops.
Danny was protected. She should go to Connor, make sure he was safe. Jesse wouldn’t be able to do his job if Connor was in danger. She ran in the direction she’d last seen Connor, but skidded to a halt when she spotted movement on a nearby rooftop.
In the distance, Tucker Quentin called out orders and his men raced across the parking lot toward another building, guns drawn. She was pretty sure they were headed in the right direction—except the movement she was seeing now was on the roof of the convention center.
Jesus. Were there two shooters?
Bullets sprayed the sand half way between her and the guys. She dropped to the ground. The guys huddled in tighter, closing ranks around Danny. Tank showed his teeth and let out a growl that rumbled across the sand.
Not another sniper, then. A sniper would have been more precise. This attack was sloppy, but it was still an attack.
Despite the growing pressure in her chest, she picked herself up, found her weapon in the sand, and ran toward the convention center. There were four flights of stairs to the roof, and each step seemed higher than the last. By the time she reached the roof door, she dragged in huge gulps of air, but still wasn’t getting enough oxygen. It was like breathing underwater, drowning, but she didn’t dare stop moving. If she stopped moving, she wouldn’t get back up.
Lightheaded and woozy, she hit the push bar and staggered out onto the roof. Goose bumps lifted on her skin and she shivered, suddenly so very cold despite the hot rays of sunshine spilling across the water and lighting up the beach like a yellow spotlight.
And there was Jesse zigzagging down the beach toward Danny and the guys, medical bag in hand. He was magnificent. Racing to help with no thought of his own safety. A healer down to the very core of his being.
And flattened against the roof in front of her was Christian Schumacher, drawing a bead on him with a rifle.
No.
She raised her own weapon. “Christian, put the gun down and get slowly to your feet.”
He glanced over his shoulder and smirked. His eyes held a glassy, unnatural sheen. “You’re bleeding.”
She suspected as much. The pressure in her chest was almost unbearable. She ignored it and kept her aim steady. “Why did you shoot Danny?”
“I didn’t.” He pressed his eye to the scope. “Though I wish I had, just to watch them all scramble.”
“Who’s the other shooter?”
“Fuck if I know. Your boys have made enemies. Funny how the sniper showed up with Tucker Quentin, though, isn’t it?”
No. Tucker didn’t have that in him. And, sure, she didn’t know his men well but they had to be good guys, too. “So Defion didn’t think you could handle the job and sent someone else?”
He tensed. She’d obviously hit a nerve. Without warning, he pulled the trigger, spraying the beach below with bullets.
She flinched and searched for Jesse. He’d hit the ground as the bullets zinged by, but he was already on his feet and running again. He was going to save lives today if it killed him.
She loved him for it.
And she’d protect her man so he was able to do what he did best. She raised her weapon and fired before Schumacher could take another shot.
Schumacher grunted at the impact, but didn’t drop his gun. In fact, the wound barely seemed to register. He just glanced at it like it was little more than a bee sting. “We’re both bleeding now.” He rolled and pointed the business end of his rifle at her. “Who do you think has the faster trigger finger?”
She shook her head. “Don’t make me kill you. It doesn’t have to end this way.”
“I’m already dead. I failed Defion. I let this whole shitstorm of a situation spin out of control, and then I had to blow my cover to clean it up. You think Defion will take me back after that?” He laughed bitterly. “No. That sniper is coming for me next.”
“We can protect you.”
His eyes darted. His pupils were so constricted, they were little more than black dots. He shook his head hard, stabbed a finger in her direction. “Bullshit. Bullshit, bullshit. That’s such bullshit. You woke a sleeping giant. You don’t know anything about them, but they know everything about all of you. They know everything about everyone. You won’t even be able to protect yourselves when they come for you. They’re going to rip your little team and your fucking trainees apart piece by piece.”
Her vision started graying around the edges. She blinked and tried to stay upright even though her knees wobbled. “What does Defion want?”
“To destroy Tucker Quentin and crush HORNET like the bug you are.” He raised his weapon. “I should kill you. Maybe they’ll take me back. Maybe— Yeah. One less busy little bee flying around, making an annoyance of herself. They’ll take me back. They’ll have to. They’ll have to.” Again he aimed the gun at her.
He might have pulled the trigger if she’d given him the chance. It wasn’t exactly a kill or be killed kind of situation. He was high on something and any bullet he fired might not have even hit her. But her strength was fading fast, and she couldn’t let herself pass out without knowing the threat he posed was neutralized.
Her bullet struck him in the neck. He gagged and dropped the rifle, tried to staunch the blood with clumsy fingers. It was no use. She’d hit an artery. Within seconds, his arms went limp and his head lolled back.
He was gone.
Lanie’s legs gave out and she dropped to her knees, then sat back on her butt and stared at the body. She didn’t realize she was crying until the tears dripped off her chin. She’d done what she had to do. Now Jesse would help Danny and all would be okay.
Everything would be okay. She could rest now. Just…rest.
Her vision began to darken.
You woke a sleeping giant.
No.
She shoved herself upright and staggered to her feet. Felt like she was moving through pudding and she couldn’t catch her breath, but she had to warn her guys. And she had to tell Jesse…something important. Her brain fuzzed and she paused on one of the landings to shake her head.
No, not just something. She had to tell him she loved him. She needed him to know.