Read Out of Sight Online

Authors: Cherry Adair

Tags: #Contemporary, #Fiction, #Romance, #General, #Terrorism

Out of Sight (14 page)

BOOK: Out of Sight
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"We'll be right behind him." Kane said it shortly, firmly, and she turned to look at him as he continued. "Everyone can play catch-up. We're keeping tabs on the GPS."

"Let's call in again and get an update—" She grabbed the bodice of the dress tight as it slipped off her shoulders. She ignored the hardness of her nipples and the still-pumping heat of her blood as she turned to look at him, only to find he'd risen silently from his relaxed position, and now stood inches away. They were almost nose to nose. Again.

AJ stood her ground.

His eyes glittered. Challenging her? Daring her? Playing chicken?

Or something even more dangerous?

Their eyes met.

His gaze burned even as his pupils dilated. He didn't move so much as an eyelash. His control annoyed the hell out other.

"If you're trying to scare me off, it's not working."

"Angina, if I wanted to scare you off, I wouldn't have had you in the elevator."

"Or now?" she asked.

"Or now."

To hell with it. AJ reached out and grabbed him by the front of his black T-shirt and stepped into him. As she pulled him closer, she rose on her toes and slanted her mouth over his. Two could play this game.

His arms came around her like a steel vise. The hot cavern of his mouth welcomed her. There was no tentative tasting. The kiss was full-blown and carnal. Tongues mated, bodies rubbed together, radiating heat. His hand slid inside the open back of her dress, skimming down her spine to cup her behind and warming her from the outside in. His other hand had somehow become buried in her hair, cradling her head in his broad palm as he shifted her face to his satisfaction.

AJ grabbed his hair in her fist, and held him where she wanted him. Dizzy with longing, she fought for balance and knew she wouldn't find it. She slid her hand, still fisted on his shirt, out from between them, and brought it up to cup the back of his neck, drawing him down to her mouth as she rose impossibly higher on her tiptoes.
More. More. More.

Her head spun.

She was intensely aware of his scent. Rich. Enigmatic. Erotic. She'd recognize him from his smell alone. In a dark room. With twenty other guys in there. Blindfolded.

Shivers rippled beneath her skin as his lightly calloused palms skimmed down to her bottom. Warm hands, strong and sure, learned the curve of hip and waist as he pulled her into the cradle of his thighs. One hand cupped her bare behind. The other drifted to her front and thumbed an already sensitive nipple. His erection nudged her mound through his jeans. She felt the internal melting of her body as she deepened the kiss, trying to regain the control she'd lost with the element of surprise.

She shivered lavishly as his tongue drew her deeper, tempting her.
Come to the dark side, Luke.

The dark side had never looked more tempting.

CHAPTER ELEVEN

After twenty minutes of sweaty, mind-blowing sex on the floor, they separated to go to their rooms to shower. Kane had rug burns on his ass to prove what a gentleman he'd been by letting AJ stay on top.

For the first time in years, he actually felt alive.

Stupid, but alive. Making love to a fellow operative was going to cause nothing but trouble. It'd never happened before now and he knew damn well that if the woman assigned to this op had been anyone but AJ Cooper, it wouldn't have happened this time, either. But AJ was… different. She reached him even when he didn't want her to. She infuriated him, aggravated him, and in general annoyed him. She also made him laugh. She made him think and, damn it, she made him want her every time she walked into a room. Jesus Christ. He rubbed a hand over his face. What the hell was he thinking, making love to Cooper?

The woman had a massive chip on her shoulder, and something to prove. She was as focused and determined as he was. Didn't matter that the attraction was mutual. And powerful.

Why now, Lord? Why the hell now?

His brothers would laugh their collective asses off… If he ever told them. Which he most certainly would not.

But damn it, the woman used weapons on him that he had no defenses against. Humor. Guts. Integrity. Honesty. Hell. Kane buried his face in his hands with a groan.

He was in trouble here. Deep fucking trouble.

A feeling thumped in his chest. It took him a moment to realize it was a chuckle.

Oh, damn.

Just as AJ strolled back into the room there was a hard
thump-thump-thump
on the door. The Cairo team.

AJ checked the Judas hole, then flung open the door, and practically hauled them into the room bodily. Sex had revved her engines. She was up and raring to go. Wired for sound. Eager, on edge, and climbing the walls, desperate for activity.

"Anything?" Apollo Hawkins demanded, briefly nodding acknowledgment to AJ and striding across the room to shake Kane's hand. They'd worked together several times and Kane had requested him on the team. Kane's estimation of the man went up several notches when Hawk didn't give AJ more than a cursory glance after they'd been introduced. And if AJ noticed that the guy was tall, dark, and fairly decent to look at, she didn't seem to give a rip, either.

She introduced herself, unnecessarily, to the others. Killian, McBride, Tariq, Christof, and Wondwesen.

"You guys eaten, or do you want to order something before we get started?" AJ asked as the men arranged themselves in the suddenly incredibly small room.

Kane bit back a satisfied smile. A regular United Nations of operatives, the six T-FLAC operatives were draped about the gold and white suite like a roomful of hungry black panthers, champing at the bit to get into the action just as much as he and AJ were. They were all experienced, seasoned operatives.

The men settled down to outline options and share what they knew. AJ efficiently called in a room-service order, then seated herself cross-legged on the floor beside the huge, square coffee table. She waited her turn, then started outlining a plan. Kane realized with not a little surprise that AJ Cooper knew her stuff. She might be a kitten as yet, but she was a tiger kitten.

He leaned back in his corner of the couch and watched and listened as AJ laid out the possibilities of Raazaq's route. She knew Egypt as well as, if not better than he did. And he'd been here several times in the last few years. Her study of the maps on the flight over was standing her in good stead. She knew back roads, unpaved roads, and variables for thousands of miles. All in her head. Amazing.

"I'm damn impressed," Roman Killian said quietly as AJ went to her room to find a map that included the Sudan. Just in case they had to head that way. "How's she doing?"

"Good," Kane told him honestly, picking up his soda and drinking. "I've been pleasantly impressed, too." She was good except for that minor glitch. "She takes this dead seriously. Doesn't whine, thank God. Yeah, I'm pleased with her so far."

"Her recall and grasp of detail are sure as hell assets, rookie or not. That can't be taught in any Academy classroom," Killian added.

"And unlike yourself, Wright, Coop seems to be a real people person," Hawk inserted with an evil smile. "She almost makes you look friendly."

"Bugger you," Kane told him mildly.

The other men hooted with amusement.

Watching her interactions with the other team members had solidified Hawk's point. AJ's beauty was attractive, but not as important a tool as her ability to put strangers at ease. The woman knew how to read and react to people. Effortlessly, she responded to comments and questions, earning respect without demanding it.

There was a hell of a lot of testosterone in the room right now. And he wasn't sure he liked the way Ari Tariq watched AJ's butt as she left the room. The guy's sleepy, hooded eyes were deceptive. The Turk had a mind like a steel trap, and reflexes like a cobra. Kane scowled as he turned toward Killian.

"I've never worked with a female operative before," Tes Wondwesen said morosely. His large bald head glinted in the light as he watched the bedroom door. The enormous Ethiopian had the look of a basset hound. Droopy eyes and his lack of eyebrows made him appear deceptively lazy. French roast coffee-colored skin made it hard to read his features. His strength was his tactical ability. But he was also known as quite the ladies' man. And even a sleepy guy could have the hunger of a predator in his gaze.

"No different than working with a male operative," McBride said tongue in cheek, light eyes laughing. There weren't that many female T-FLAC operatives, and most of the field agents didn't look anything like Cooper. Savage came close. But tangling with Savage would be like tangling with a black widow spider.

"I enjoy working with the female of the species," Tariq said lazily, crossing one booted foot over his knee and leaning back against the silk pillows like a pasha. "They bring a different perspective to an op."

"Keep your mind on the mission statement," Kane told him flatly. "Cooper's the most important part of this op. Don't any of you even consider muddying the waters."

"Here it is," AJ said, returning to the table and unfolding the map. She glanced around. "What'd I miss?"

"Nothing," Kane told her shortly. He looked at Conrad Christof. "Sit, for God's sake."

Christof towered over the rest of them. He'd jumped to his feet when AJ stood, now he waited to sit down until she did. Pretty damn good manners for a blond giant with no neck and too many, too white teeth. Kane decided to keep a weather eye on the Austrian as well.

AJ seemed oblivious—which made Kane feel better. Until he glanced over to see Hawk grinning at him. Kane flipped him off. Hawk chuckled.

AJ was one of the guys. One of the guys with breasts, a shapely butt, and sparkling green eyes. There was not one scrap of artifice in her. She was animated, serious, knowledgeable, and in charge. While they chowed down on a mountain of sandwiches and drank several gallons of thick, sweetened coffee,
six
pairs of male eyes tracked her every move as she paced, gestured, made notes on a pad she carried, and talked with authority and conviction.

She was doing a damn fine job. And Kane respected the other guys for listening and treating her opinions with respect.

Of course, Kane was forced to admit, it helped that her ideas were damn good ones.

They were all aware that this was to be a team effort. Getting Raazaq now was imperative. AJ had a map of the Western Desert imprinted on her photographic brain. That and her sniper ability, coupled with Raazaq's attraction to her, made her indispensable.

And every man in the room knew it. They would all protect her, and get her to her objective, at the cost of their own lives if necessary.

"… split up into four teams," AJ said, coming back to the table and dropping down into a cross-legged position that got Kane's attention in a hurry. He mentally ratcheted back. Instead of grabbing her, tossing her over his shoulder, and making a forty-yard dash to the bedroom, he drank deeply of his Coke and slitted his eyes until she was no more than an animated blur.

Better.

Not great.

Just better.

The satellite communicator rang. She was up and had the receiver in her hand seconds ahead of the others. "Yes?"

Her eyes narrowed. "When? How many vehicles? Got it." She tossed the clunky black receiver back on its cradle. Her pale eyes shone like stars, her cheeks pinked with excitement.

"Sorry, guys, no rest for the wicked. Raazaq just moved out. Headed south and booking. Let's get the lead out. We've got to get this sucker before he cuts loose."

AJ drove, while Kane kept in communication with the two vehicles behind them, the Sat Comm, NOAA, and the blip on the screen of his handheld GPA indicating Raazaq's southerly direction. They were far away from the lights of any towns or villages, and scudding clouds obscured the moon. It was eerily dark.

Wind buffeted the Humvee, and sand from the dunes on either side of the paved road, illuminated by the twin beams of the headlights, blew in increasingly thick clouds across their path. No matter how bright the lights, though, they barely penetrated the billows of yellow sand whipping in a mad frenzy across the empty road.

AJ kept a map of the area in her head as she drove. The signposts were few and far between. Fortunately they were in English as well as Arabic, but it looked as though the terrorist was heading into uncharted territory. The farther south he led them, the worse visibility got. The north-south route had been a trail of agony for tens of thousands of slaves who'd moved along its route thousands of years before. It had been called the last, and worst, portion of the
Darb-al-Abrain,
or the forty-day road. The farther they went, the farther behind they left civilization.

They'd speculated where Raazaq might be heading, and what the shipment could contain. But since they didn't know the answer to either question, speculation was, at this point, moot. All they knew was, whatever it was, in Raazaq's hands it would be bad. Very bad.

Dirty bomb? Nerve agents? Smallpox? A nuclear bomb?

Jesus God, it could be anything.

Behind them, five miles apart, two more Humvees rolled through the darkness, headlights glinting on and off as they hid behind dunes and turns in the road or were obscured by wind-driven sand. In one vehicle, Christofand Wondwesen; in the other, Hawk and Tariq. The other two men had remained at the hotel to await the arrival of the specialists from Europe, whose plane had been delayed by NOAA's warnings of the approach of Khamsin. Sandstorm season.

"Khamsin"
meant "fifty" in Arabic, the number of days the season lasted. Timewise, they were right in the middle of it. And Raazaq was heading directly toward the heart of the storm. AJ was sure that had been a deliberate move. Where the hell was the man going? And why?

The farther south he went, the less populated the area. It didn't make sense. Raazaq always went for the big bang. The most people terrorized. If it was some sort of bomb, he was heading in the wrong direction. If it was some sort of viral agent, ditto.

"Maybe he's going to blow up a dam? Poison the water supply?" Her fingers tightened on the steering wheel. The vehicle shook and shuddered, and her muscles ached with the effort of maintaining control as the car weaved and swayed in the high winds.

"We'll get to him before he does whatever he plans to do."

"From your lips." Eyes dry with the strain of trying to pierce the swirling sand, AJ stayed in the middle of the narrow paved road, and gripped the steering wheel in white-knuckled fists, feeling the jar and pull all the way up to her shoulders. "This is getting worse. I'm going to p—"

"Pull over," Kane ordered at the same time.

"Damn. I wanted to make an oasis about a hundred miles down the road before stopping. But you're right. This is suicide waiting to happen. Alert the others." She pulled off the road, battling the seventy-mile-an-hour winds with all her strength to steer the vehicle to higher ground. The wind tended to blow hardest at ground zero. The tires bit into the soft sand, sliding and slipping before digging in as they climbed.

"Good to know Raazaq is probably doing the same thing. No one is going to be traveling for a while." Kane's calm manner was starting to piss her off more and more. Nothing seemed to ruffle the man's feathers.

Not spectacular sex. Not Raazaq transporting an unknown chemical. Not a sandstorm.

What the hell rattled the man's cage?

Kane's hand shot out and he grabbed the wheel as it spun out of her hands. "Give it more juice. That's it." His hand, between both of hers, held the wheel relatively steady as the heavy Humvee bounced and swayed. Thank God the vehicle was wide, and low to the ground. Built for just this sort of terrain.

They crested a small dune. AJ doused the lights and turned off the ignition. Kane's arm brushed hers as he withdrew his steadying hand from the wheel.

The darkness was loud, almost alive, as sand and wind buffeted the vehicle in ever-increasing gusts. Grains of sand pelted the windshield, and AJ knew that come morning, they'd be lucky to be able to see through the damn thing. The Humvee shuddered as the growling beast of a storm battered it. Sand sifted through the vents and sighed as it dropped to the floorboards. A few hours of this and they might be buried under a dune of their own. But there was nothing to be done about it.

"Now we wait," she said, more to herself than Kane. The man had an amazing capacity for stillness. Inactivity drove her nuts. She adjusted her seat to give herself more room in the cockpit and leaned her head back against the seat rest.

She couldn't see him—hell, she couldn't even hear him breathing. But damn it,
she felt
him. "This could go on for up to eight hours, you know."

"Uh-huh."

"You hungry?" AJ asked, voice raised over the wind.

"We just ate a truckload of sandwiches, and you had dinner before that." His voice, low and deep, coming out of the pitch-darkness, was curiously intimate.

BOOK: Out of Sight
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