Traceless. HelenKay Dimon
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“When the bullet slams into you it hurts like a—”
A sharp look from Connor stopped whatever else Holt might have said. Stretching and rubbing his back, Connor stood up. “What do we have outside?”
That one made Holt smile. “A bunch of dead shooters.”
Connor reached down and helped her to her feet. She hung on just in case her knees gave out on her, which, with the crushing despair at the thought of Connor being shot still zipping through her head, was a distinct possibility. “You got them all?”
Holt shrugged. “The ones that didn’t run away.”
Of course they got the bad guys. That’s how the Corcoran Team operated. They protected and they won. She’d come to depend on that so much that she couldn’t conceive of any of them getting injured. It’s probably what kept her from living every hour in fear.
Davis and Holt followed Connor’s example and led without even trying. Pax, Davis’s brother, and Joel provided some of the team’s lighter moments back in Maryland but were deadly lethal when necessary.
She knew all of them except Ben. From her conversations with Connor about the battles Ben had taken on during his former job with NCIS, she had no doubt he fit in fine with the rest of them.
“I took photos of...” Shane stopped just inside the doorway. His gaze bounced around the cabin-turned-shooting-gallery. “What did I miss?”
“Nothing.” Connor tugged her closer and put a hand just below her belt.
No way was she forgetting what just happened. “Let me see your back.”
His hold didn’t lessen. “It’s fine.”
“Okay, well, I have more photos.” Shane glanced at Holt and a look passed between them before Shane handed the camera to Connor.
Jana couldn’t read the guys’ expressions but knew they engaged in some sort of silent conversation. She guessed she was the subject. Her or Connor, or both.
Connor started to hand the cell over then stopped. “I hate to ask—”
“I’ll look.” She took it before he could analyze and start frowning. “Huh. Well, I have bad news.”
“More?” Cam asked, the amusement evident in his voice.
Connor’s stern expression didn’t slip. “What?”
“I only recognize this one.” She pointed at the second photo. She scrolled the images back and forth. “These three were not part of the crowd when I got kidnapped.”
“So there are even more of them. Great.” Shane swore under his breath. “And for the record, I hate that you’re now an assignment.”
“She’s not.” Connor leaned into her and his breath caressed her cheek. “Which one was the leader?”
She loved the closeness but knew her answer would put him straight back into work-concentration mode. “None. The leader, the one who called you, isn’t here. He got away.”
“Which means?” Cam asked.
Connor’s shoulders stiffened as he stood up straight again. “We still have a problem.”
In her mind, that qualified as a huge understatement.
Chapter Four
Luc Pearson gathered his group under a towering rock pile near the charity offices. The storm had passed over, taking the kicking winds with it. Now the sky brightened as they edged closer to daybreak. That meant time was running out.
Even though the area had emptied out during the night, Luc wanted this part of the game wrapped up before people woke and started buzzing around. The last thing he needed was more witnesses. There had been enough death.
Which brought his mind back to the group. He looked around the semicircle of his remaining men. The Corcoran team had knocked out six trained shooters without breaking a sweat. He’d been warned about the team’s skills but this amount of loss wasn’t part of the deal.
Rich Stapleton shifted his weight from foot to foot. “You said there would be one, maybe two of them. We’re looking at a full team with a lot of firepower and impressive training.”
“We still have the advantage.” Bruce Harding’s flat tone rang out in the still night. “This isn’t their turf.”
Rich scoffed. “You think we’re winning this thing? I have a bunch of dead bodies that suggest otherwise. Bodies of good men who were told this would be a quick stint.”
Luc decided not to point out the obvious, about how those so-called experts died without putting up much of a fight. Truth was, the lopsided battle surprised him. He’d studied the files of all the hires for this job. All but Bruce. He was the boss’s pick and he acted as if he was untouchable. Probably because he was.
But Rich and his crew operated on another level. They didn’t have the boss’s protection or his trust. If he wanted them gone, they’d be terminated and that meant quieted so they couldn’t talk. Bruce had made it clear that was one of his duties. If the word came down, he’d handle it.
Luc had found Rich through contacts. Locating the right guy, one who walked away from the army edgy and frustrated, blaming the government for his failings, proved easy enough. With all the options out there, Luc had insisted on former military and disillusioned.
Turned out Rich knew plenty of the well-trained-but-done-with-rules and the so-called bright-lines-between-right-and-wrong types. Men whose loyalties could be bought. Rich had served with some of them and knew others by reputation.
Luc culled through potential additions to the group with Rich, framing just the right collection of men who had few ties to each other and a deep need for cash. Rich picked the squad but Luc had final approval. And now many of them were gone.
“Apparently Connor Bowen travels with reinforcements.” Bruce tapped the blade of his knife against his open palm but never lifted his head.
“Would have been nice to know that instead of being told he’d rush out here and make himself an easy target.”
One of the men offered the insight. Luc didn’t remember the guy’s name and didn’t intend to learn it. He preferred think about the men in terms of where they lived. That made this one Reno.
“How did they get the woman without any bloodshed on their side?” Rich asked.
That one was easy. Luc had explained the failure to his boss earlier and repeated it now. “Your buddies failed.”
Reno took a threatening step forward. “Watch it.”
Rich signaled Reno and another man to stay back. “Tread carefully.”
Luc watched a pickup truck ride the dirt road a few hundred yards away. When it turned and headed toward the town, or what qualified as one out here, he let out the breath he was holding. “Why? It’s not as if these guys can hit a target.”
“Why don’t I show you how skilled I am?” Reno asked.
“You think this is funny, Luc? That standing there relaying the boss’s orders means you’re safe from us?” Rich managed to squint and telegraph menace at the same time.
Luc’s hand slid to the gun slipped into his belt. He’d paid for their time but these guys weren’t exactly known for deep and abiding loyalty. “I think I paid for competence and I’m not getting it.”
“But we don’t work for you, now do we?” Rich’s men grunted in agreement with Rich’s comment. “Funny how you forgot to mention you were only the middleman—powerless—when you hired us.”
They didn’t have time for insubordination and Luc’s tolerance had hit its end. “You get paid from me, so I am your boss.”
“Nah,