Impossible Odds: Rescue Team Nine (Book 3)

Chapter 33

Dice

She's right. I know she's right. I was there when Wildcat managed to get the information out of Les. I was there when he gave us all the ammunition we needed to stop this run, but it won't matter. The guy is slippery as an eel. The only way to ensure he doesn't slip out of our fingertips is to give him something he wants. One thing I've learned about Benjamin Easton is his profound ability to hold a grudge and his insatiable appetite for money. Brad Henderson owes him a lot of money, and killing Cloey is his ticket to get what he wants. At least, that's what he thinks. He thinks her parents will be easier to scare and manipulate if he has her death to confront them with. But we have the upper hand because what he doesn't anticipate is me. No one will come between my family ever again, and if the bastard touches one hair on her head, he's dead.

She's sleeping when I sneak out of bed and meet Wildcat and Gunner across the hall. I know she'll be mad if she wakes up and realizes I've met with some of my team without her, but I think she forgets my own stubbornness. Ambrose is watching Les while we make plans to get rid of this bastard once and for all. Usually, at the climax of each mission, I can feel my adrenaline pumping. But this one is different. I want it over. I want the chance to bring my family together.

"What now?" Wildcat asks when I enter the room. The space between her and Gunner is amusing. It appears they've been in another stand-off since I was gone, and by the way Gunner has his arms crossed, she won.

"We get the hell out of here," Gunner responds. "Take what we've gathered and go get the fucker."

Wildcat raises a brow in his direction. "It can't be that easy."

He smiles. "What would be the fun in it if it was?"

She rolls her eyes but stays silent. His smug grin gives him a one-point up. We'll have to start keeping score. I'm betting money on Wildcat. But Gunner is right. It's time to go. Benjamin knows she's here, and he's waiting.

_____________________________________

We leave later that afternoon while the sun is setting. I formally apologize to my family with an excuse that Rescue Team Nine has been called up for active duty, which technically isn't a lie. A mission waits for us, a mission that includes two of their sons: one they never wanted to claim and the other they can't live without. It's ironic the child they consider a bastard is the one on the right side of the law. It also makes a great cover story. If Dalton reports to Benjamin that we were called off to handle a mission, it will hopefully help us stay incognito, make him think we're out of the picture, and he'll go after Cloey. There's a weapon trade tomorrow, and we'll be ready.

By dusk, we've arrived at the hotel room the rest of the team has set up as a temporary command center. Worry is etched all over Cloey's face when we sit at the table in the middle of the room. Les Andrews sits tied to a chair in the corner of the living room of the large suite Captain Black booked. Surrounded by the whole team, the poor man looks pale and sickly. I give him credit because I'm shocked the guy hasn't passed out yet, especially when Striker approaches him and offers him a plate of food. He's the scariest-looking guy on our five-person crew, and it hasn't escaped Les' attention. His food remains untouched.

We've been sitting here for the last couple of hours and discussing options for approaching the sting operation setup to get to the evidence and the arrest we need. It means contacting the FBI, an action we never like since the agency tends to want to step in and do our job. Thankfully, Captain Black has handled the matter by declaring that we have authority over the situation. It would be easier if Cloey would agree to be bait another way. That's the second reason we've been sitting here so long.

"I don't understand why this is so hard to figure out."

Wildcat looks from one man to another. "Not that I'm a brainchild or anything, but the solution is sitting right in front of your faces."

Every eye in the room lands on our newest member.

"Enlighten us."

Wildcat smiles at the sarcasm in Gunner's voice, and I shake my head. The pair really does have issues.

"We eliminate Cloey."

"Wait a minute ..." Cloey begins to rise from her chair, but Wildcat holds up her hand.

"I'm not saying she doesn't land where she should. Les can put a bug in Dalton's ear that Cloey will be staying in the Richmond Hotel. Benjamin will find out and send an assassin, but instead of finding Cloey, he'll find a team of FBI operatives and me. Gunner and Red can intercept the first guy while Dice, Bear, and Striker take down Benjamin."

I catch on quickly. "It would never work." I shake my head. "They'll know what to look for. Your hair would give you away, and you're at least a few inches taller than her." As much as I crave this idea, I'm right. The woman is an Amazon, especially next to Cloey's small frame.

"But it has merit," Captain Black comments. "We could make it work. It's amazing what cosmetics can do now."

"I don't like it." Gunner sits back with his arms crossed. An irritated expression mars his features.

"For once, I may have to agree with Gunner on this one." I hate it when Gunner's right.

"Why? I swear if you use my gender against me, I'll show you ..."

"Oh, really?" Gunner interrupts. His eyes light up like it does when he's giving one of us a hard time. I wonder if he realizes he's enjoying himself. "Because I'm partial ..."

"The man's name is Nathan Weller, although he goes by Quick Hand Nate in the smuggling world. He's an outlaw who has built his name around his ability to transport weapons across borders. He's also gained a reputation for violence. He'd kill a man in his sleep if it meant more money and power."

Wildcat holds up a file. "I have a friend who works as a television makeup artist. I can guarantee by tomorrow I'll make a great double ..."

"But your height," Gunner jumps in. He's sitting up now in his chair and not looking the least bit happy. "And how the hell did you figure that information out?"

Wildcat grins. "I have my ways. A few inches won't be noticeable with the right makeup and wig in capable hands."

"He'll know." Cloey's voice is just above a whisper. I stand and go to place my hands on her shoulders. "Benjamin will know. I've seen his file, and he's meticulous. If he weren't, he'd already be dead by now."

The group goes silent. The day has already disappeared behind a cloak of darkness, and the sound of cars driving down the road can be heard through the walls. The night is colder than usual, and Bear's turned up the heating unit to ward off the chill. The clock on the wall ticks the hours. It's getting close to midnight.

"I think it's a risk we should take. It'll work if we intercept all these guys before they can get back to them."

Cloey looks up to meet my gaze. A question lingers right behind those beautiful blue eyes.

"The women have the same eye color. We can make everything else work." I give Gunner a warning look before looking back at my future bride. "I know I promised to let you have the last word with this asshole, and you'll get that chance, but I won't put your life in jeopardy, not when I've got you back. I won't do that to our daughter. She needs her mother." For once, Cloey doesn't fight me.

The next thirty minutes are spent going over my idea. Captain Black nods at each of us.

"It's workable. Wildcat, call your friend, and then I want all of you to sleep the next few hours. You're going to need the rest."

A chorus of yes sirs mixes in with chairs scraping back. The group disbands—Bear, Wildcat, Red, Striker, and Gunner place bedrolls in the living room. Cloey and I take one of the guest bedrooms. There's no way I'm leaving her. Captain Black takes the second one. Go time will be upon us before we know it.