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Ash moved through the bushes that lined the paths separating the buildings. He and his team had disabled and disarmed ten guards so far. He hadn’t heard from Eve since they’d arrived, but that wasn’t a concern. She likely had her comms off. She knew her job, and he trusted her to do it.
“Just took out another guard.” The edginess in Gideon’s voice put Ash on alert. “He was headed to the communications building. There was a man in front of him. I couldn’t get to him without raising an alarm.”
“Understood.” Ash clicked a button on his earwig. “Stone, can you hear me?”
“Yes.”
“You have a guard coming your way. You up to taking care of him?”
“Of course.”
He didn’t think they knew each other well enough for her to understand his underlying meaning. Jazz was in no shape to take on a rabbit, much less an armed soldier. Would Jules read between the lines?
Apparently so, as she added softly, “I’ve got this, Ash. No worries.”
Satisfied that it would be taken care of, Ash turned his earwig back on for the rest of the team. Even though things were going smoothly, he was getting that twitchy feeling between his shoulder blades. It was rarely wrong.
“Let’s get Dalca and get the hell out of here.”
Jules pulled the Glock from the holster on her thigh. Even though she was comfortable with the model, she preferred her own SIG Sauer. She checked the chamber once more, noting Jazz was doing the same with her weapon.
The other woman hadn’t heard Ash’s side of the conversation, but she’d heard Jules’s response and no doubt knew what was about to go down. Hopefully, she didn’t think she needed to prove herself.
To dispel that concern, Jules went to the door, saying, “Time to earn my keep.”
“Wait,” Jazz said.
Holding back a sigh, Jules turned. They didn’t have time for an argument.
Jazz eyed her calmly for a second and then surprised Jules by saying, “Kick his butt.”
Giving her a quick smile, Jules opened the door and peered out, left and right. She saw no one. Closing the door behind her, she dashed to a large bush a few feet away. She didn’t know which direction he’d be coming from, but she should be able to grab him before he made it to the door. She didn’t have to wait long.
Running footsteps moved toward her. When he rounded the corner, Jules knew a moment of regret. He looked like he was barely out of his teens and likely had something to prove, too. It couldn’t be helped. Pushing emotions to the back where they belonged, she concentrated on the matter at hand. What the young man lacked in years, he more than made up for in bulk. A surprise attack would be her best bet.
She waited until he passed her and then was on him in an instant. Going in low, she took him down from the back, at his knees, hitting hard. He fell forward, and they both grunted. The kid was at least two hundred fifty pounds, most of it solid muscle. Giving him no time to react, Jules wrapped her arms around the soldier’s thick neck. She squeezed with just the right amount of pressure. Doing what was normal, the kid grabbed her arm to try to dislodge her. When that didn’t work, he went to his feet with her still hanging on to his back. Even though her feet were about a foot above the ground, Jules held tight. He tried to swing her around, and still she held, still squeezing. With one last attempt to get her off his back, the kid threw himself backward and slammed her against the brick wall.
She grunted at the explosion of pain but managed to keep the pressure on his windpipe. The young man dropped to his knees and at last lost consciousness.
Rolling off him, Jules looked up into Jazz’s grinning face. “You looked like a flea crawling all over a rhino, but damn if you didn’t get the job done.”
Breathless, Jules made the effort to give her a thumbs-up. Jazz produced a zip tie and took care of the man’s hands and feet, along with putting tape over his mouth. Between the two of them, they managed to hide him behind a bush. The deed was done in a matter of minutes, and they finished up just in time to hear Ash say, “Okay, let’s get this done.”
Chapter Fourteen
Eve Wells took another surreptitious glance at her watch, a gift from Darius Vasile. She missed her OZ-issued watch, which performed multiple functions. This flashy bauble only told the time, but the glittery, overdone style fit her gold-digger persona to a T.
Only a few more moments, and her team would strike. This assignment should end today and, in her estimation, couldn’t be over soon enough. Five months as Kimberly Lowe—Kimmie to her friends—had been more than enough. Acting as if she hadn’t a thought in her head other than looking pretty was more than even a seasoned spy like herself should have to endure.
Crossing one long, silky leg over the other, she added a soft, exaggerated sigh with the movement, drawing both male and female attention. While the women glared daggers, the men eyed her with the type of hunger that would have made Eve Wells go after them with a biting comment or the closest weapon. As Kimmie, the beautiful, useless bimbo, she gave the languid smile of a hungry cat on the prowl.
After all, a girl had to have her fun.
The drawing room, though enormous, was one of the loveliest rooms in the house. Its six sofas, five chairs, numerous occasional tables, and baby grand piano in the corner spoke of taste, decadence, and extreme wealth. She had been a guest in this house many times and had visited every room in the compound at least once. Darius loved showing off the home he intended to own someday. He had explained that his brother-in-law, Andrei Dalca, was twenty years older and smoked like a chimney in winter. Since Andrei had no children or siblings, Darius firmly believed he would inherit everything. Because of Andrei’s unhealthy lifestyle, Darius anticipated gaining that wealth sooner rather than later.
She knew the OZ team was already here, and since no alarms had been raised, everything was going according to plan. The dinner had been lavish and decadent. The wine had been flowing, and the laughter had gotten louder. Ash had said he wanted everyone relaxed and mellow, assured of their invincibility. These people looked about as relaxed as they were going to get.
To counteract the boredom of the aimless discussion going on around her, Eve mentally reviewed the details of the op. The last communication she’d received from her boss was a coded message this morning via text. Anyone who happened to see it would have assumed it was a spam message, but she’d learned OZ codes and way of messaging the first month she’d been on the job. And since the messages were often disguised as advertisements for a gross or unpleasant product or procedure, she’d also learned her boss, Asher Drake, had a screwy sense of humor. One of the many reasons she liked the man.