Impossible Odds: Rescue Team Nine (Book 3)

Chapter 27

Dice

The way this mission is turning out, I feel like we might be stuck in one of Gunner's comic books. Good versus evil. Who will prevail?

"You have got to learn how to behave around women."

I decided to take Gunner for a walk through my mother's gardens. The air is cold, and I'm hoping the wind bursts coming our way will beat some sense into my partner.

"I have no problems in that department, thank you very much."

Shaking my head, I stop walking. "Really? And when was the last time you had a date?"

"Who needs dates when you can go straight to fucking?"

I can't argue with him there. Until Cloey, I'd been a fuck and leave guy myself. Sex with no strings attached is a popular concept for men in our position, but Cloey opened a door and kicked out every dessert on the buffet line. I was downright enraged when I saw the message scrawled in her room. I don't care what people think about my reputation with women. It's what my reputation did to the woman I love that angers me. My instincts tell me it was Dalton that wrote that message and knew it would piss me off. By now, I'm sure he knows Cloey's a target for Benjamin. That son of a bitch. The only consolation is the knowledge I'll get to punch the man who wrote it.

"Besides, when I finally decide to marry, it will mean I'm ready for a crew of kids and a fat gut."

I can't entirely fault Gunner for his idea of love, but still. "Man, I thought my idea of marriage and love was deeply screwed up, but I have to admit your perception takes it to a whole new level."

The Winchesters are an odd bunch. Gunner's family obtained their wealth by building a motorcycle empire. They're known for their unique designs and artistry. His father is a man who scares the shit out of me on a good day. And his thoughts concerning women are barbaric at best. He considers his wife a baby-making machine, housekeeper, and cook. Gunner is the youngest of five boys. All of whom were trained to be the best in the field of motorcycles until Gunner decided to join the military. His career move threw his father into a fit more suited for a three-year-old. But where his old man's fascination happens to be motorcycles, Gunner's is with machinery in general. The man's a genius mechanic, and there isn't a crew that doesn't value his expertise. It's rumored that my comrade was offered several positions on a few secret assignments before he was offered a place on Rescue Team Nine, but for unknown reasons, he declined. No man on our team is brave enough to ask questions about it. Even Bear knows his limits.

"That damn bitch."

The voice comes from our left. Grabbing Gunner's arm, I pull him behind a grove of bushes. We lower ourselves down so we can better see the men on the other side. The whiny, nasal sound of the man's tone lets me know without looking that my brother is present. Gunner points through an opening in the shrubbery, and I nod. Together, we watch. Standing in the middle of the garden's rose bushes are Dalton and the man we've been trying to get information on, Les Andrews.

"You're telling me this is the bitch Benjamin Easton's after? I can't work with this. And I scared the bitch just to piss my brother off."

"She's the one that's inherited the money owed to Mr. Easton."

"And she's my brother's fiancé. You do realize the kind of hell he'll rain down on me if something happens to her."

Damn straight. At least the asshole is smart enough to realize I'll ruin him if he so much as lays a hand on my girl.

"I know, I know. I shall speak to Mr. Easton about this." Les wipes at his brow with a handkerchief. How the man is sweating in the frigid temperatures is beyond understanding. Being afraid of Benjamin is one thing, but being fearful of Dalton is downright funny.

"Damn my brother," Dalton continues, barely registering Les's presence. "The dim-wit should have never been born."

Gunner smirked. "Dim-wit? You've been downsized, my friend."

"What does she see in him anyway?" Dalton paces the small space while Les dances around on one foot. The man needs a chill pill.

"It's my cavalier personality," I whisper.

"It's definitely not your humbleness." Gunner's retort makes me smile.

"Look who's talking."

Gunner shrugs. "It is what it is."

I reach down and hit the recorder on my phone. It will have to do. I know I can transfer the information to our laptop and send it to Striker in no time. The team is already ready to move at any time.

Les clears his throat. "Sir, the shipment leaves the day after tomorrow. After that, I believe Mr. Easton has promised a substantial amount of money for both him and you. He wants me to tell you not to worry about the girl. He states that he will take care of her himself."

Dalton laughs. "I bet he doesn't even know he's engaged to a woman with a target on her head."

I fist my hands to try and keep my composure. It's not helping.

Stopping abruptly, Dalton rounds on the small man. His laughter has stopped. Les pushes up his glasses as the men come face to face. "No killing. Understand that, Les. You tell Mr. Easton that I will not have any dealings with him if murder is involved. Getting cleared of something illegal is a hell of a lot easier than being cleared of murder."

"Y-yes, sir."

"He may think he's running the show, but it's me with the connections. He needs to remember that. It's not every day you can trade weapons with my status."

"B-but, sir," Les tries to get the words out, but the more he tries, the worse he stumbles.

"What is it!" Patience has never been one of my brother's virtues.

"Mr. Easton may n-not be high in the p-political world, but he has a lot by w-way of shady c-connections. M-men who would skin a m-man alive w-w-without thinking t-twice about it."

Dalton rolls his eyes. "Les, Les." Placing a hand on the man's shoulder, he steers them to the end of the clearing. We shift our position to stay out of sight. "You frighten too easily. You have got to relax. He has us killed, and he'd have to deal with the ramifications that come with offering two prominent sons with fathers making a run for President one day. Do you think Benjamin Easton wants that on his head? No. He's not that stupid. That's why he makes the best partner because he's smart."

The pat he gives Les causes him to stumble forward. "And leave the blonde bitch to me. One swallow of my special wine, and I'll leave her with one hell of a hangover the next day that she'll wish never happened. I want to taste her before Benjamin has his way." I suddenly see red. I start to rise, my thoughts center on beating the smile off my brother's face, but Gunner's hand stops me. "And when I'm done with her, Chance will be so disgusted he'll leave and go back to that damn unit of his."

The two men leave their meeting area and head toward the safety of the house.

"Why, that son of a bi—"

"I'll help you hide the body if you want," Gunner interrupts.

We glance at each other. He doesn't try to persuade me otherwise. Despite the jokes, Cloey is family to them, to all of us. That's how we work. We protect our own.

"I might just take you up on that."