Read At Any Cost Online

Authors: Allie K. Adams

At Any Cost (5 page)

BOOK: At Any Cost
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"Look, Turner. My orders were to bring you back to HQ, so I don't give a shit about what you think your mission is.
"

"HQ
sent
me on this mission."

That tidbit caused him pause. Not likely. The little liar was willing to make anything up to not get nailed. Too late. Dan wasn't biting. He'd heard all the stories before. "Nice try."

"I'm serious. I'm in contact with HQ. Ask them."

That stopped Dan in his verbal tracks. Contact with HQ? Donovan specifically said she
hadn't
been in contact with them. Why would a mole have any contact within HQ? "Who's your contact?"

JT shook her head. "I don't know his name."

The little bit of hope that had somehow found its way into Dan's soul vanished. "Okay, enough of this." He reached over and grabbed her good arm. Hard. She winced, but remained silent. Without a word, Dan yanked the disc out of her lying hand and shoved it in the back of his BDUs.

"Hey!"

"Enough!" He spun around, stopping his face only inches from hers. He kept his voice low, cool, despite the want to scream at her until she understood just how damn dangerous
LEON
could be. His want for the woman took a sidebar to his need to complete his mission. "I'm through with your stories, Turner. You don't have a contact at HQ or I would have known about it."

She pushed him away from her with amazing strength. If she wasn't careful she'd rip her wound back open. He'd already patched her up once.

"Hey, you're bleeding again," Stevens spoke up.

JT glanced at her shoulder. The blood, although slowly, had found its way through the bandages he so carefully dressed. Both Dan and JT cussed in unison. Same word, too.

"Now look what you've done."

"How is this my fault?" Dan looked at her in disbelief and hated the way his pulse skipped when she lifted her brow. She looked back at him as if he should already know the answer.

He didn't need this. He'd done what he came to do. He'd deliver the mole, the disc, and wash his hands of the entire thing once and for all.

"Let's go, Turner." He turned toward the motor home, JT in tow. She struggled, which made him grasp her wrist tighter. She whimpered slightly, and damn if the noise didn't have an impact on him.

Mole. MoleMoleMole.
He chanted the word over and over until his lust quit shooting little jolts of energy coursing through his body.

He stopped, turned. Those eyes, some of the prettiest green eyes he'd ever seen, were wide, pleading with him to hear her out. Either she was a damn fine actress, or she really needed his help. She darted her eyes around, focusing briefly on Stevens, before locking her gaze back on Dan.

She was desperate. He'd seen the look a thousand times, whenever he'd interrogated a tango. Too bad. She'd made her bed. Now it was time to sleep in it. Dan turned and strode back to the motor home, ignoring JT's protests. Once inside, he slammed the door so no one else could hear them.

"Now you listen to me, Turner."

"No! You listen to me. You have no idea what you are about to screw up. I've worked my ass off to get my hands on that disc. I'm not about to let you come in here like some hero-wannabe. I need this."

"What you need," he countered, "is to pull your head out of your ass. You aren't getting the disc."

She took a breath, swallowed it. "Please?"

"No, Turner."

She looked up at him then with those dangerous eyes and he felt a pull of emotions he couldn't begin to describe. He quickly squelched the wrenching in his gut. He hadn't eaten since this morning. That was all.

"Haven't you ever wanted to prove something? To right a wrong? That's what I'm trying to do."

Another fine display of her acting abilities. Dan would have thrown a rose on the stage at that one. He knew what it felt like to want to right a wrong. It drove him to the brink of his sanity each and every day.

Dan had been searching for the man responsible for his personal Hell for two years now. Obsessed with finding him, making him pay for what he'd done to Dan, and to his partner, Steve Gessler.

Jason Peck
.

The bastard killed his partner, ended Dan's career as a NASSD agent, and was a traitor to his own country. Dan couldn't wait to get his hands on him. He didn't know what Turner had to do with Peck, but knew there had to be a connection. He considered it a pleasure to track him down and ask Peck personally. The son-of-a-bitch turned on every one of his fellow agents. Sold them out.

So, yeah. He knew exactly what it felt to like to want to right a wrong.

But Turner using
LEON
to right the wrongs of the world was like blowing up the entire planet because someone, amongst two billion people, had a cold.

She had no idea what
LEON
was capable of.

He knew, based by the way they dressed and held themselves, the men after her in the parking lot were part of Mercado's group of hired muscle. Not only did he hear them yelling after JT in Spanish, they wore Mercado's mark on their less-than-conspicuous black turtlenecks.

So Santos Mercado really did have a bid on
LEON
. Interesting. Dan had studied the files NASSD sent him on the Mercado cartel. No doubt about it. The drug lord was saving his pennies for a rainy day.

Coincidence JT discovered the goldmine right before she disappeared? And now suddenly had
LEON
in her possession?

Riiight.

Good thing he came along when he did. Dan's instincts didn't let him down when he put his new team on the group at the Edgewater. He knew JT would be there, but didn't expect her to hand deliver
LEON
. An added bonus.

Something must have gone wrong to make them chase her away like that. Mercado wanted the weapon, and JT wanted the money. So what went wrong?

She must have demanded something they couldn't provide. Damn she was gutsy. Terrorists didn't place women too high on the food chain, even if they were every man's wet dream. He glanced at JT, taking interest in the way she chewed on her pouty lip. She definitely fit the part.

So why had she been covered in dirt and grime, and sported nothing but a coat? Not exactly meeting-with-terrorists attire. The image of her running toward him, the front of the coat opened to reveal JT Turner as God intended her to be, was now burned into his retinas. Why were they chasing her? Shooting at her?

Dan felt the unexplainable urge to hear her out. Why did his gut pinch and knot at the thought of turning her in? It was the right thing to do.

So why did it feel so wrong?

* * * *

JT sat on the bed and kept her eyes on Weber as he leaned back against the counter, his arms folded in front of him, his fingers drumming on a rather large, well-defined bicep. He didn't speak. He simply stood there studying JT with amazingly blue, yet untrusting eyes. His handsome jaw hardened and softened as he kept a watchful eye on her. She had to look away before he found some way to peer into her soul and saw just how unsure she was about what she'd gotten herself into.

Her body responded to everything about him. The looks he kept tossing her made her breasts ache, her nipples harden almost painfully. When they were tangling earlier, she felt the hardness of his erection, so she knew he responded to her, too.

This was the wrong time to for her to swear off men. At least tall, sexy men who looked like he could make her come without breaking a sweat. He sure had her sweating. But after dealing with all the ogling eyes and roaming hands while at
Gahanna
, she'd convinced herself all men were pigs.

When she brought her eyes back up, trying to ignore the throbbing between her legs, she saw him still staring at her and she couldn't find any reason to pull away. Good-looking man, she noted. No, good-looking didn't really describe Dan Weber. Perfectly carved would be more like it. Buzzed hair she'd guess to be blond. Incredible eyes. Enormous shoulders that should have their own zip code. If she were in any other situation, she just might let him buy her a drink.

Instead, he held her prisoner in a rusty old RV. Who was this guy, really? Could he be
the
notorious Dan Weber? It could be a common name. The other two clearly feared him. And for some unexplainable reason, JT felt a sense of fear wash through her at the sight of him. Not for her life, but something entirely different. He pulled reactions from her she didn't know she had
in
her.

She couldn't find a single picture on file for the highly decorated, even more highly respected Dan Weber. Good thing. If she knew he looked even better than the man from those Transporter movies, she might have printed out his picture and hung it in her locker, just like she used to do with her Duran Duran posters.

JT sighed. She was supposed to meet with her contact in less than eight hours. That gave her just enough time to steal the disc back from Weber, escape, and make it to the rendezvous point for the transfer and debrief.

She could hardly wait.

Her current assignment had her eating too many meals from the gas station to count. And getting shot. And now defending herself against some sort of sexy cyborg in NASSD clothing.

Weber finally moved toward her, and JT didn't know whether to brace herself for fight or flight. But then he knelt in front of her, his arms on either side of her. His hooded eyes bored down on her, and her skin prickled in response.

She felt trapped. When he brought his hand up to her shoulder, she jerked away.

And instantly regretted it. The pain from the sudden movement blasted through her system. Her hand shot up to her shoulder in an attempt to what? Protect her shoulder?
A little late for that, Turner
.

"Easy," he said smoothly, grabbing her hand and lowering it back down to her side. His hand lingered over hers a bit longer than needed. JT's guard rose. His touch was gentle, soothing. Nothing like before. It made her flesh tingle, her body respond by sending surges of desire straight to her clit, and baffled the hell out of her.

He lifted the sleeve of the shirt to expose her shoulder. With a lick of his lips that made her lick hers in response, he went about the task of removing her soiled dressing. Only inches from her, she could smell him. Not that either of them smelled particularly good right now, but he had a musky scent on him that made her senses hum. Aftershave? Not likely. NASSD agents rarely wore scented products. Even their deodorant was unscented. One memorable scent could turn a mission deadly.

It was
him
. Damn. JT closed her eyes to get a grip on her overly-stimulated senses.

"Hurt?"

She opened her eyes and looked at him. "Of course it hurts. I had a cannon ball dig a cavern in my arm."

He chuckled, the sound low in his throat. She would have missed the curl on his lips if she hadn't been studying them at that exact moment. Her heartbeat started to throb in her ears.

"It was a small caliber, and it didn't even penetrate." Hearing that word made her core clench in response. "It may have been a .22. Left a nice little groove in the meat of your shoulder. And I do mean
little
."

A .22? That's it? Man, what a big baby. A .22 was only big enough to piss a person off. Unless they were standing next to the shooter, a caliber that small wouldn't do much. Aside from hurt like hell. She now knew that from personal experience. Feeling the need to defend herself, she added, "It felt like a cannon."

That comment brought a spike to his brow. "Been shot before?"

"No. You?"

"Stabbed once. Never shot." He finished dressing her wound and finally met her eyes. Something moved in them, dark and unnerving. His expression hardened. "Yet."

The tone made her heart flip, and not for the right reasons. It sent all of her heightened desires running for cover. He stood and stormed away, leaned back against the counter as before. Stunned at how he could go from hot to cold with a snap of the fingers, JT decided to stay put so not to aggravate him further.

"You plan on telling me the truth any time soon?"

JT looked up at him. Incredibly handsome or not, she didn't know who to trust, and decided he wasn't any more likely a candidate than the tall redhead outside. They mentioned HQ, and for all JT knew, the leak came from inside HQ. "You plan on letting me go any time soon?"

"Not until you talk."

"Then I guess we sit."

"I'm prepared to wait as long as it takes. By the way you keep eyeing the door, it looks like you have somewhere to be."

She didn't want to know how he knew that. "I do."

"Looks like you'll be missing a meeting, then. Is this one a higher bidder than the last? Is that what happened?"

Heat hit her cheeks. This guy was way off. But in telling him exactly what her mission entailed, she'd be going against a direct order. This mission was classified. No partners. No contact with anyone else in NASSD or HQ.
Trust no one
. That's what her contact had told her.

Bummer. Her tongue almost tingled to talk with
anyone
about her mission. This guy looked on the level, but so did every other NASSD agent. And the fact someone else knew of her mission meant there was a NASSD agent who wasn't on the level.

She looked up at Weber again. The way he just kept watching her, no emotion in those deep blue pools, made her realize he wasn't about to yield. Neither was she.

Stalemate.

JT huffed in frustration. She had to get that disc back, had to get out of here. For all she knew, Weber planned to take that disc to the open market. After all, he picked an interesting time to come back to the agency. Maybe he planned to steal
LEON
for himself. Maybe he worked for the group she'd just stolen the disc from.

"Why did you steal the disc?"

"Why didn't
you
?"

She refused to look up at him. She didn't owe this man a thing. Well, aside from him saving her life. Stubbornly, she thrust out her chin.

"You can make this easy, Turner. Or you can make it hard."

"What are you going to do, torture it out of me?"

"If that's what it takes."

JT shook her head. "No you won't."

"What makes you so sure?"

"Because you're NASSD, like me. At least you used to be." She looked up at him, judging his reaction to her statement. Of course he remained still, expressionless. Damn robot. Handsome, arrogant robot. How could he not have any reaction to that dig? He displayed absolutely no emotion as he raked his eyes over her, pulling yet another baffling, irritating reaction from her body. When his silence was just about to make her scream, she added, "You're
the
Dan Weber, aren't you?"

His features grew absolutely still. His shoulders tensed. The look in his eyes scared her. "Been looking for me?"

The sound of his voice, so low and dangerous, made her suck in a breath.
No fear. Calm and cool
. She concentrated on her training, shrugged easily with her good shoulder. "I didn't even know you were back in. Had I known..." she trailed off and sucked on her lower lip, hoping he'd bite.

He did. "You would have what?"

"Looked you up. You were practically required reading."

"I'll bet. And the others?"

JT swung her eyes up to his. "What others?"

She didn't think it possible, but his features hardened further. Despite his reaction to her earlier, this man really didn't like her. Although she remained calm on the outside, her insides were in a whirlwind. He wouldn't hurt her, would he? Because that's exactly what he looked like he wanted to do. JT doubled up her fists. If he took a swing at her, she'd be ready.

"Tell me about the others, Turner. Did you fuck them to gain information? Or did you use some other form of torture?"

JT glared at him. She would never sleep with anyone to gain information. She'd only had a few lovers in her life, which hardly gave her enough experience to do something like that. Besides,
she'd sworn off men after breaking one of the Neely brothers' nose when he grabbed her ass.

And torture? What in the hell was this guy talking about? "The last time I checked, torturing fellow agents wasn't in the manual."

The murderous glare in his eyes equaled, even surpassed, hers. "And killing is?"

Her jaw dropped. She would have taken another bullet to be able to read his mind just then. He looked at her with such venom in his glare, such hatred, she felt her skin crawl with goose bumps. What had the Dan Weber she'd read about turned into? She'd heard he'd been forced into early retirement. She'd also heard he simply up and walked away. No one knew the real story behind his departure. No one, that was, except him.

Did he want his old position back? Was he back to take her out so he could assume his rightful place in NASSD as the top assassin?

"You plan to kill me?"

He sighed, pinched the skin between his eyes. "No. As much as I'd like to personally see you pay for what you've done, my orders were to take you back to HQ. And I, unlike you, follow orders."

No? That answer should have made her feel better, but knowing he planned to turn her over to HQ made her pulse quicken. The mole could be anyone, anywhere. Even HQ. Even
him
. Having Weber take her anywhere could be feeding her to the lions. "And the disc?"

"The disc goes with me."

All this because she stole the disc from those terrorist dickheads? She was supposed to steal the disc from them. That was her mission. A mole within the folds of NASSD had stolen the disc and sold it to the enemy. JT's job was to steal it back. She took it upon herself to add to her mission. She wanted to find the mole, the traitor to his country, and personally turn him in.

She had to play the part as the extra friendly rookie agent/woman, seeking out the agents on the
LEON
project and making stupid excuses to talk to them, just to rule them out. She'd contacted all the ones still with the agency, according to her list.

She'd found
Fish—
real
name Pete Saunders. Tight-lipped and no help. Then there was
Sandman—
Aaron
Cummings. Even tighter-lipped. Equally no help.
Doughboy—
Fred
Johnson.
Gameboy—
Bruce
Aims.

She'd learned from them there were more originally assigned to the project. One was dead, one retired, and one disappeared.

Then there was someone by the codename of
Hollywood
. She couldn't find him, and no matter how much she begged and pleaded, not one of the agents would talk to her about him. The term 'loose cannon' was used more than once to describe him.

Which gave her ample cause to suspect him as the mole. Now if she could just find him.

Instead of finding the mole at The Edgewater Inn, waiting to strike a deal with the enemy, she found the actual terrorist group in the bar, boasting about already having the disc. She listened in and gathered enough information to locate the disc, and easily took it back. It was almost too easy. It didn't even dawn on her it could have been a set up.

Her glare rested on Weber. Until now. "So now what? Are you going to tell me what's going on?"

He looked at her, obviously deliberating whether to tell her or not. After what seemed an eternity of silence and staring, he finally spoke one simple word. "No."

"Figures." JT glanced around the room. The walls were lined with surveillance equipment. She didn't know why she'd never noticed it before. Top of the line, expensive equipment. Some of the best she'd seen in a while. Wow. NASSD went all out for this guy. Yet they wouldn't even offer up a partner for her. Wonderful. Got to love double standards.

BOOK: At Any Cost
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