Read Elite Metal-ARE-epub Online

Authors: Jennifer Kacey

Elite Metal-ARE-epub (17 page)

He turned on his heel, moving back toward her, and he picked up the pace to try to get to her before she got to her vehicle. The lights on an SUV blinked when she hit a button on her remote control.

The tiny prick on the back of his neck shot so much adrenaline into his system, all of his training came out in an explosion of instinct.

He swept his leg out behind him, dropping one of his attackers. But that was it. His brain kept telling his muscles to move but as if in slow motion he hit the ground.

Whatever drug pumping through his system was effective if not lethal.

Another masked man dressed all in black stepped next to him just as a van pulled up beside him.

No squealing tires. No sound at all. Pure silence surrounded him.

The door opened and two more men, dressed similarly piled out, lifting him into the confines of the unmarked vehicle. The first man grabbed his bag, which had fallen to the ground and flung it in next to him. He climbed in, shutting the door behind himself.

Chrome wanted to ask questions, he willed his mouth to move but he couldn’t get his lips, much less his vocal cords, to cooperate.

He’d had this drug before. His responses—he’d experienced them before.

His team had been chemically trained to resist the effects of most muscular paralyzers. In their line of work the government had spared no expense.

Most anyone else would have already been unconscious. But he fought just as he was trained to do.

The van moved but he couldn’t see anything but sky after they pulled out of the parking garage.

Another prick in his arm registered and he huffed out a breath. It was the only displeasure he could register before darkness sucked him under.

His eyes flicked open and closed as he tried to retain consciousness.

The crackle of a radio made its way past the fog trying to overtake him.

“Chrome secure. ETA thirteen hours.”

They found me.

Whatever torture was coming, whoever thought they could break him to get what they wanted… They were shit outta luck. He’d go to his grave before he talked. Resignation filled his mind.

He always knew his enemies would find him eventually. Or the government found someone fast enough to dispose of him.

They were quicker than he expected.

The sleeping face of the little girl, and the tear-stained eyes of the woman he’d wanted flashed in front of his eyelids.

He was glad they were the last people he’d ever see.

And no matter what was coming he’d be dead within a matter of days.

Thank God it’s finally over.

Relief settled deep inside.

Blackness seeped into his mind and for the first time, and hopefully the last …he didn’t fight it.

 

 

 

Chapter Two

 

Duct tape. Tried and true. That shit worked.

Gonna hurt when they rip it off and my arm hair goes with it.

For first thoughts after being drugged and snatched it wasn’t one of his best, but everything came back online within a few seconds. Another perk of the governmental best drilled into his head after years and years of supporting the red, white and blue.

Flickering his eyes open confirmed his suspicions that some type of hood covered his entire head. He gripped the wooden chair he was taped to but couldn’t see. Trying imperceptibly to move his feet proved fruitless.

Nope.

Taped.

Interrogation style.

Awesome.

Quick once over from head to toe proved no real injury.

His head hurt. Probably from when they’d tossed him in the van. Abrasions on his side when the drugs kicked in and he’d bit it in the parking garage. His arm was sore.

Other than that? Nothing.

Huh
.

Multiple people were in the large room with him, but he couldn’t tell how many. A handful maybe. A female?

Options and possibilities filtered through his mind as he controlled his breathing. No point in giving his kidnappers the upper hand. If they didn’t think he was awake maybe they would—

Someone ripped the hood off his head and he clenched his jaw tight to keep from cursing. Bright light seeped past his eyelids and a wave of nausea hit him like a two by four across the back of his skull.

“We already know you’re awake, Chrome.”

That voice…

Chrome blinked rapidly, taking in the warehouse in a few short seconds before focusing on the three people standing fifteen feet in front of him.

Two women. One was a blonde with a straight ponytail wearing a pencil skirt and impossibly high heels. On the other side stood a brunette, with long hair in some kind of braid. Injured. Striking, even with an arm sling and bruising on her face. She wore jeans and a man’s long sleeved shirt.

They flanked a man in the middle. A man dressed similarly to him, arms crossed and staring him down.

Steele.

His brother. Or used to be.

Chrome couldn’t hide the sneer curling his lip as thoughts filtered through his head of their last mission. “Mother fucker.”

Steele smirked. “Missed you too, sunshine.”

“What in the hell? Get me out of this fucking chair or I’ll—”

“This is Poppy.” Steele turned to the side and nodded to the blonde. “Elite Metal coordinator, secretary, bull dog extraordinaire.”

“Awesome. Lovely and blah blah blah. Elite Metal? Are you shitting me? How in the hell did you—”

“And this is Alayna.” Steele turned to the brunette, gently pulling her close, avoiding her injuries.

Chrome couldn’t help but soften a bit at the haunted look in her eyes. Physically she was hurt but there was something else. Something… He turned back to Steele, waiting on him to explain who she was but nothing came. Odd.

“Why am I here? Chrome is dead, along with the rest of my brothers and sister.”

“Red Wolf. You’re here because we need to take down Korovin and Red Wolf.”

At the mention of the last name Chrome clenched his teeth hard enough to hurt. “What about, Red Wolf? And who the hell is Korovin?” He shook his head. “You know what? It doesn’t matter. I don’t give two shits who he is.”

“We need to bring everyone back together.”

“Everyone who isn’t dead you mean?”

“Chrome,” Steele growled and the brunette flinched as if someone had hit her.

“Charles. My name is Charles.”

“Your name is Chrome. Don’t fuck with me.”

“Fuck with you. You? You kidnap me.” Chrome struggled against the tape, nearly tipping the chair over. The chair legs slammed back down on the floor and he leaned forward as much as he could. “Drug me.”

Steele’s glance flickered behind Chrome and he shook his head. “Do not engage him right now. It will not go well for you.”

Chrome whipped his head around, focusing on a line of men standing behind him several feet away. Seven of them. He hadn’t even heard them. Like they were ghosts. They were each dressed in black from head to toe. Black hoods, gloves, shit kicker boots. At least a few of them had to be the same assholes that dropped him in the parking lot. One was separate from the rest. One had stepped forward toward Chrome. His hands in tight fists, pumping open and then closed.

Steele walked past Chrome and then stood eye to eye with the lone man. “Don’t fucking touch him or I will tear you apart.”

It seemed as if everyone held their breath. Shit was either going to go one of two ways. They were going to back off, or Steele would leave them in body bags. He was that good.

“That’ll be all gentlemen.”

Steele whipped his head around and stared at the blonde. She gave the order? Huh?

“I’ll let you know when you’re cleared for the rest of the extractions.”

The ghost stood there for a few more seconds and then stared down at Chrome. A jagged scar ran across the corner of his right eye. No idea how far up or down it went because of the mask, but it looked…painful. Angry.

The ice blue eyes, though. It almost reminded him of—

He snapped around, away from Steele, back toward his team. They filed out a side door Chrome hadn’t noticed before. The metal of the door lock clicked closed almost silently.

Steele slowly relaxed and faced Chrome. He held up a hand when Chrome opened his mouth to speak. “I know you’re pissed. I know you want up, and I know you want answers. But right now I need you to shut up and listen.”

“To what? Excuses about how you put my entire team in jeopardy? Got half of them killed? All of Titanium’s? Is that what you want me to listen to? Because if that’s it then you can kiss my white—”

“I’m sorry.” The pretty brunette stepped forward directly in front of Chrome. Steele made his way to her but she stepped away from his embrace. “No. You can’t comfort me in this.”

Steele palmed the uninjured side of her face and kissed her lips gently. “And that’s where you’re wrong.” He kissed her again but then stood behind her in silent support.

Chrome scowled at him. Then her.

To her credit she didn’t look away. She squared her shoulders as much as she could and took a breath. “I was Steele’s contact for the last mission. I’m the reason your teammates are dead.”

“No you’re not, Alayna.”

“Steele.” She pegged him with a scowl then faced Chrome again. “I was CIA. But a leak in my office was double dipping and I didn’t know until it was too late. Benson Maverick aka Korovin. Red Wolf’s right hand man.” She shook her head and stared at the ground by his boot. “And I never knew it.”

Chrome stilled, remembering the day he watched his brothers die.

Their screams. Their horrific screams and then…silence.

A cold shiver worked up his spine, pegging him in the back of the skull. He tuned back in, wondering if he really wanted to hear anything else.
Ignorance is bliss, right?

“My car was forced off the bridge into the river below…it was too late. I couldn’t reach Steele. Thought I was going to die in that fucking river and I’d never be able to make amends for what I knew was going down in Russia. So don’t blame, Steele. It’s not his fault. It’s mine.”

“And you’re the reason I was brought back into this fucking nightmare?”

Steele stepped forward, unwilling to let her answer apparently.

“Red Wolf is. And Korovin. We almost had him but I made a choice. And he got away.”

Alayna touched Steele’s shoulder and he pulled her gently to his side.

“She was your choice I take it?” It came out an accusation and Chrome didn’t give a flying fuck.

“Yes.” No defense. No other explanation. Nothing. That in and of itself surprised Chrome more than anything else.

“Recently we’ve learned the new names and locations of the living members of Elite Recon have been compromised.”

Chrome faced the blonde chick and eyed her from head to toe. Pretty. Gorgeous probably, but she wasn’t even on the same totem pole as the woman on his last flight. “And forgive me for being skeptical, but where did you get your information this time? Blind faith and I broke up about two years ago.”

A smirk tilted her lips. “Classified.”

“Then we’re done here. Get me the fuck outta this Goddamn chair and get me a ticket back home.”

“Home? What? Colorado? Are you fucking kidding me? You hate the cold. You’re a Texas boy if I remember correctly.”

“Born and bred, asshole, but I didn’t sign up for this gig.”

“Guess what state your sack is now squatting in? I need you on board to bring the teams back together or everyone’s going to be moved again. Start over. Again. Or worse if they’re found by Wolf’s dickheads before we can get the okay from Warbucks for the extractions.”

“Warbucks. As in Annie? You have lost your damn mind.” Chrome made fists, straining the duct tape and the wood creaked. “How’d you pull this off anyways? From what I can tell this is state of the art shit. From the ear bud in each of your ears, comm links on your wrists, and the panel by the door, two way glass leading into God knows where on three sides of the room, sound proofing floor to ceiling? Everything but your snazzy duct tape and rickety ass chair. No expense was spared. Did you start shitting greenbacks when they kicked your ass out?”

“Elite Metal. Our group. The nine of us. We have a private backer now. No longer under the thumb of Uncle Sam.”

“No, but under the nose of Daddy Warbucks?” Chrome shook his head. “I’ve listened, and I’m not going to go postal and open fire on you or your girlfriend. Get me out of this chair. Now.”

Steele jacked one of his pant legs up and pulled a switchblade from an ankle holster. He didn’t miss a beat in his propositioning as he sliced through Chrome’s bonds. “Warbucks has more intel than we’ve ever seen. And state of the art? You haven’t seen anything. This compound makes the government toys look like they came out of a Cracker Jack box.”

Chrome stood, kicking the chair out from behind him and he cracked Steele across the jaw. Hard. Not enough force to knock him out, but…close. “That was for my team. And not fucking listening when I knew something was wrong.” Before he thought better of it he cracked him one more time. Harder.

Steele’s head jacked to the side for a second time, but he didn’t retaliate and he didn’t defend himself. Just wiped blood from the corner of his mouth and faced him again. Chrome didn’t fail to notice Alayna right on his six, and looked like she was ready to step in if he raised another fist to Steele. Injured, not to mention half his size by body weight alone, and she was still ready to take him on.

That took guts and he respected her a fair amount for it, even though he didn’t dare admit it.

He stared Steele down again, trying to reign in his temper. “And that’s for bringing me back into whatever the hell you think this is going to be. Nothing but another blood bath. Now get me the fuck out of here.”

Without waiting for an answer he headed for the door the ghosts went through. Had to lead somewhere. He stretched the hand he hit Steele with and then rubbed his bicep. “Hard fucking head,” he mumbled.

“Your bike’s outside. A few things have been added while you were napping. GPS and 3-D mapping. Nitrous boost. Your old sidearm with a few upgrades is on the seat, and—

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